The attack happened in the Schnee Manor, a few days before Weiss' thirteenth birthday.

Late into the evening, after Klein and Winter had put Weiss and Whitley to bed, an explosion rocked the manor. Winter's head snapped up from the sabre she was polishing before bed, and darted out into the hallway. Cries of alarm and bellowed orders echoed through the halls, along with the impossible to mistake sounds of violence.

Cursing under her breath, Winter began sprinting towards the sounds. A cold pit formed in her gut as she quickly realised that the sounds were leading her in the direction of Weiss' bedroom. She rounded a corner, coming up behind a pair of guards hired by Jacques, with Klein huffing and puffing as he ran two paces behind them.

"Ah, Miss Schnee!" he huffed out, glancing at her briefly. Winter noticed his eyes had turned red, something she rarely saw from the usually-jovial butler.

"Klein, what are you doing here? It sounds like the manor's being attacked!" she asked as she fell into pace with the group, another guard joining at the rear from another hallway.

"The explosion came from the direction of young Weiss' room. I will not allow anything to happen to that child," he huffed angrily, wringing his hands around a cane he had found from somewhere. Winter simply nodded after a moment, tightening her grip on her sabre. As the sounds of fighting got closer Winter started to smell burning, and an orange glow began to warm the corridor walls. Coming around the final corridor, Winter and her entourage entered the scene of a desperate skirmish.

The explosion had ripped a hole through one of the manor's outer walls, and had brought down huge chunks of the ceiling. Around the holes and rubble roared an intensifying fire, smoke billowing thicker and thicker. Two of the guards already fighting were firing through the flames at the unidentified attackers, doing their best to cover another pair of guards trying to break through a door. The door to Weiss' bedroom.

"Help them!" Winter shouted at the guards she arrived with before sprinting ahead. A single leap took her over the flames, aura protecting her from the head, and she landed amongst three of the attackers. She barely registered the grey masks they wore before one levelled a pistol at her. She grimaced as she let her aura take the first shot, closing the distance and slamming her shoulder into the attacker. The blow drove the air from their chest and Winter felt a couple of their ribs crack before the masked assailant was thrown against the wall, pistol dropping from their hands.

One dazed, for now. She rounded on the next, a slighter figure wielding two knives who rushed Winter. A series of sloppy jabs and cuts were easily deflected by her sabre, and a quick slash to the hand caused one dagger to fly from the second figure's hand. Winter closed in and followed up by cracking them across the side of the head with the hilt of her sword. The figure dropped like a stone, leaving Winter free to engage the third attacker.

This one came at her with a sword of his own, a broad falchion that carved through the air at Winter's head. She ducked under the swing, stepping into his guard before slashing across his chest, cutting through his underdeveloped aura and throwing him back a few paces. She followed, keeping the distance between the two of them close. Her sabre opened a long cut up his leg before her fist connected with his jaw, rocking his head back and slamming it against the wall.

As he dropped, Winter heard the first one she attacked rush behind her. As she turned she caught the glint of a knife, before a trio of gunshots rang out. The attacker fell forwards and landed on their front, bleeding from three wounds in their back. One of the guards lowered his pistol, nodding to Winter. In the time it took for her to deal with these three, the guards had cleared the rubble in front of Weiss' door and were trying to break it down.

Winter raced back over to help, and the group quickly brought the door down. A wave of heat hit them like a fist, most of the guards recoiling back from the flames. Weiss' room was a burning ruin. Most of the ceiling had caved in, and fire was everywhere. The pit that had formed in Winter's stomach developed into a yawning void as she saw the debris that had fallen onto the bed, which had collapsed under the weight.

"Weiss!" she screamed, racing over to the bed. Heedless of the heat and smoke, Winter started desperately trying to dig Weiss out. Klein and two of the guards joined her, whilst the rest did their best to battle the fires long enough for them to rescue Weiss. Winter didn't even notice the tears streaming down her cheeks as they quickly worked, straining against a beam that had fallen across the bed.

"Miss Schnee!" Klein shouted over the crackling flames, coughing from the smoke. "You and the guards lift this beam, I'll retrieve Weiss!" Winter nodded, and wordlessly she and the guards hefted the beam, grunting with exertion. As the beam lifted a few inches, Klein's hands darted out and swiftly, carefully extracted Weiss from the wreckage. "I have her!" he shouted, wrapping his coat around her still body to smother the flames clinging to her.

"Out, now!" Winter commanded, ushering everyone else out of the room before following behind. The group raced for the manor's small sick room, one of the guards falling into step next to Winter.

"Authorities are already on their way. Ironwood's scrambled a medical team, they're coming by Bullhead." Winter nodded to the guard to indicate she'd heard, an iron-like tightness in her throat preventing her from speaking. As she ran, she desperately tried to avoid thinking about how limp Weiss looked in Klein's arms, or how awkwardly her limbs were bent as she was carried.


Less than an hour later, Winter was sat in a hallway outside one of the operating theatres in Atlas' best hospital. Ash and smoke still stained her hair and clothes, and she'd barely given the staff enough time to patch the burns and cuts she'd received before demanding to know where Weiss was. For Klein's part, he had been admitted to his own room, having suffered worse from smoke inhalation and the heat. Her shoulders were slumped, normally-perfect posture abandoned as hopelessness and fear wracked her body, foot tapping rapidly as Atlas' best surgeons raced to save Weiss' life.

She lifted her head at the sound of approaching footsteps, looking down the hall to see Jacques Schnee approaching, escorted by no fewer than eight guards. Each of the Schnee siblings had learnt to quickly gauge the man's emotions, and Winter read barely-restrained rage. He came to a stop in front of Winter, clenched fists trembling. "Winter," he said, voice carefully level.

"Father," she said with a nod, too tired to stand to greet him.

"Weiss?"

"Still in there," she said, lethargically nodding her head at the theatre doors. He nodded once, sharply, before reaching into his jacket and tossing something to the floor at Winter's feet. A White Fang mask, coated in soot and unmistakably one that Winter had seen during her fight. "Those animals attacked us, attacked Weiss," he hissed out, fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned almost transparent. "A bomb, right outside her room. Ironwood's men are combing through the wreckage now to try and learn more." Winter stared wordlessly at the mask on the floor, new emotions added to the turmoil.

"Where… Where are Mother and Whitley?" she asked, voice croaking thanks to the smoke she'd inhaled.

"They're on-board Ironwood's airship for now," he said. Winter nodded. She didn't ask why he wasn't there with them. She knew whatever answer he gave would be a lie. She knew he was only there for the benefit of the press, who would have had a field day if Jacques hadn't rushed to the hospital where his daughter was fighting for her life.


Winter wasn't sure how long she'd been sat in that chair when the operating theatre doors opened, a surgeon who looked just as tired as she felt stepping out. "Schee?" he asked.

"Yes?" Jacques asked, sitting up in his chair. "How's Weiss?"

"Well, the good news is she's alive and stable. However…"

What followed passed mostly in a haze for Winter. Words like 'extreme trauma', 'extensive burns', 'amputation', and 'life support' filtered into her mind. The torrent of emotions finally broke, and she began weeping quietly in her chair, body shaking as she crumpled inward. Weiss… Oh gods, Weiss…


It was days before Weiss woke up. Winter had spent almost the entire time sat in a chair by her bed, watching over her injured sister. Bandages covered her, IVs running into her body, and an oxygen mask sat on her face. The only unbandaged part was her face around her right eye and mouth. Over the past few days, Winter had received the full picture of Weiss' injuries. Third-degree burns, traumatic injuries to most of her body, organ damage, loss of her left eye, and multiple amputations, most of them near-total amputations of an entire limb.

The rest of her family had been to visit. Jacques was still the image of quiet fury, whilst Willow had lost herself even more in the bottom of a bottle or two and was inconsolable. Whitley was beside himself, unable to internalise much of what had happened beyond the fact his sister was hurt badly. None of them stayed for very long, leaving Winter alone with the unconscious Weiss and the nurses doing regular checks. Winter found herself hating herself for it, but she could never muster the strength to look as they changed Weiss' bandages, a sick feeling settling in her stomach each time it happened.

"W-Winter..?" Winter's heart skipped, head snapping up at the small, croaky voice.

"Weiss!" she gasped out, tears already starting to form in her eyes. "You're awake!"

"W-where am I? What happened..?" she asked slowly, in a bit of a daze.

"You're in the hospital. We… There was an explosion," Winter said after a moment, "right outside your room, and it started a fire."

"Oh… I-I can't move my hands..? O-or my feet?" she asked, squirming weakly under the sheets of her hospital bed.

"Oh Weiss…" Winter gasped, hot tears starting to run down her cheeks. "You got hurt… V-very badly hurt…" She broke off, sniffling and wiping her eyes.

"Why can't I move? Winter, why can't I move?!" Weiss began crying as well, desperate for an answer. Winter couldn't bring herself to answer as she began sobbing, reaching over and carefully embracing her sister.


A doctor was soon summoned. To say that Weiss took the news of her injuries well would be a lie. As the doctor gently explained what had happened to her and what she had lost, Weiss emotionally collapsed into herself. What remained of her body shook badly and she wept until her eye turned red and puffy and her already-hoarse voice turned to a scratching whisper.

Winter wasn't in much better shape, sniffling miserably in her chair as she tried and failed to keep a brave face for Weiss. After Weiss once again slept thanks to her emotional and physical exhaustion, the doctor quietly informed Winter about the caretaking and support Weiss would need if and when she was cleared to return home from the hospital.

The next few days passed in misery for all involved. Weiss' world crumbled around her, leading to her swinging between despair and verbally attacking everything around her. She'd even lashed out at Jacques during one of his short visits, revealing a startlingly sharp tongue, and to Winter's astonishment the man had been stunned into silence, awkwardly leaving without a word a few moments later.

Through it all, Winter remained by Weiss' bed, weathering her anger and trying to support her through her pain. She'd skipped so many meals to remain at her sister's side that the nurses had been bringing her sandwiches and other food from the hospital cafeteria to make sure she didn't starve herself. She was dimly aware of further crackdowns on White Fang activity, as the news of the attack and Weiss' injuries had fanned outrage across Atlas and Mantle.

A week after Weiss woke for the first time, the door quietly opened to reveal Jacques, slowly stepping into the room. Winter sat a little straighter in her chair as he entered, whilst Weiss remained staring despondently at the bedsheets. Trailing behind him in some kind of ambulatory wheelchair was a man with dark skin and grey hair, dressed in a brown cap and a red vest over his cream shirt.

"Weiss? This is Doctor Pietro Polendina," Jacques began, gesturing to the now-identified doctor. At Weiss' lack of response, he continued. "He is Atlas' finest when it comes to prosthetics." At that, Weiss perked up a little, lifting her head to look at Doctor Polendina with one haggard eye. He returned a kindly smile and nodded.

"So they tell me. With your father's permission I've had a look at your file, and I believe I can help you," he said confidently.

"Help me how?" Weiss asked after a few moments' silence.

"Well, my prosthetics have helped blind people see again. I've replaced lost limbs and more for soldiers and huntsmen! Whilst, hmm." He paused for a moment in thought. "Whilst your case is severe, I should be able to make you a functioning body. We're still figuring out the exact details, and obviously we would need your agreement before we can actually do anything. But we would be able to let you move around under your own power again."

Weiss was silent for some time after that, considering Pietro's offer. She looked to Winter, who gave her a tired but encouraging smile, and to Jacques, who looked expectantly at her.

"Could I become a huntress?" Her question drew a sharp intake of breath from Jacques, the man's opinions on yet another one of his children running off to join an academy already well-known.

"Why certainly! It will be hard, very hard. You'd already have to work to get used to the prosthetics properly, lots of physical therapy, and to add that sort of training on top? It would take a very strong girl to do that." He leant forwards a little to catch Weiss' eye, still smiling. "Are you very strong?" Weiss swallowed, looking down at her bedsheets again, before looking back to Winter. She stared into her sister's eyes for a while, before looking back to Pietro and nodding once firmly.

"Okay. I want to do it." Pietro's smile widened at that, leaning back in his chair.

"Excellent! We'll get started right away?" he asked, glancing at Jacques.

"Of course. I will cover any and all expenses for this project."


A few days later, it was time for Weiss to leave the hospital. Repairs to the manor had been completed, though the decision had been made to move Weiss' room elsewhere. Her new room had been fitted out with all the necessary medical equipment for her physical condition. As the hospital staff were carefully moving her onto a gurney for transportation, there was a knock on the door before a uniformed man stepped in. Tall and fair skinned with black hair, Weiss instantly recognised him as General Ironwood. Trailing behind him was Jacques. As Winter quickly stood from her chair to salute him, he forestalled her with a hand. "At ease, Winter," he said quietly.

"General Ironwood?" Weiss asked, looking up at him from the gurney.

"Weiss Schnee," he replied. "I'm here to escort you back home, I have a bullhead waiting. Your father raised security concerns, and I'm of the mind that there's no such thing as being overly cautious in this case. That, and there's an awful lot of reporters out there currently and, well," he paused before rolling his left sleeve back and undoing a button on his collar, peeling clothes back slightly to expose grey metal where skin ought to be. "I've been in a similar position, and I had people to keep the press away. So, consider this me passing the favour along." Weiss managed a smile after a moment, the idea of hordes of reporters at the hospital doors briefly terrifying her.

With Weiss safely on the gurney, she was wheeled out of the room. In the hallway outside, Ironwood's soldiers were keeping watch on the doors in the hall to block any members of the press that had managed to sneak inside the building. The entourage made their way to one of the hospital's elevators, and onto the roof where, as promised, an Atlas military bullhead was waiting. The gurney was carefully lifted into the hold, and Winter, Jacques, Ironwood, and his soldiers all piled on after. The flight to the manor went mostly in silence, with Winter sat right next to Weiss gently trying to coax conversation out of her.

Eventually the bullhead landed within the Schnee Manor grounds, a private medical team waiting to wheel Weiss into her new room. Jacques and Winter disembarked with her, but only Winter followed Weiss's gurney. She was once again transferred, this time from gurney to bed, and she grimaced in discomfort as her IVs were swapped over.

"Doctor Polendina will be here tomorrow to start the process on getting your prosthetics sorted," one of the orderlies explained. "It'll be some time before you can actually be fitted with them, we need to make sure you've healed up enough first, alright?" Weiss nodded silently, fatigue already setting in again as she was settled into the much more comfortable bed. "Alright. We're all going to be set up nearby, at least one of us up around the clock. That," he pointed to a small box by her bed with holes for a microphone, "is if you need us. Just say 'help', and it'll let us know you need something." With that, Weiss was left alone with Winter. Both stayed quiet for some time, before Winter spoke.

"Weiss? What you said to Doctor Polendina… You want to become a huntress?" Weiss turned to look at her for a second, before nodding. "Alright then. Once you've recovered enough, I'll teach you." For the first time since the attack, Winter saw a tiny bit of light return to Weiss' eyes. "I won't be able to be here all the time, but the General has worked 'Weiss Schnee's security detail' into my responsibilities. So, when I'm not getting trained, I'll be here to help you, ok?" She smiled at Weiss, and she felt like her heart was going to burst at the tiny upwards twitch of Weiss' lips. "I love you Weiss, ok?"

"Love you too Winter," she quietly replied, before yawning. "'m tired. Can you get the light?"

"Of course," Winter said, tearing up a little again. She quietly moved to the door, flicking the light off before slipping outside, closing it behind her. On either side of the door stood two security guards, both of whom she recognised from the attack. One now sported a burn scar across his cheek, and freshly healed pink skin dotted both guards' hands. She nodded silently to them before slowly walking away from the room.


The time between that conversation and the day she could walk again was hell for Weiss. Beyond the already-arduous process of recovering from her injuries, the physical therapy and additional surgeries to make her ready for prosthetics added significantly to the physical and mental strain. Without Winter there to support and encourage her, Weiss was certain she'd have given up or spiralled downwards even further.

As time and healing went on, it quickly became apparent that simply strapping replacement limbs on was not going to be a workable solution, not if she wanted to pursue a career as a huntress.

"To put it simply, the injuries you sustained are going to interfere with your growth," one of Weiss' doctors explained. "Combined with other complications… If you were looking to live a normal life, replacement limbs would make that mostly possible, barring most physically demanding tasks. We would need to limit the strength of the new limbs to prevent them from causing further injury to you. Unfortunately, being a huntsman or huntress is perhaps the most physically demanding career. However, Doctor Polendina has a solution in mind."

The solution, as it turned out, was to not mount any prosthetics directly to Weiss. Instead, Pietro outlined some sort of suit that would in essence replace her body from the neck down, keeping her torso contained within. "Without needing to attach prosthetic limbs directly to your body, we can effectively ignore those problems," Pietro explained. "Of course, this does have its own problems. The resulting prosthetic body would be more complicated, for one. The body would also need to be able to fit your actual body inside of it, meaning you would end up being quite tall and, unfortunately, would require more complete amputations."

He paused for a moment to let Weiss register his words. The girl remained silent, instead looking down and moving the small amount of limb she had left. "In the long-term, this would result in atrophy of your actual muscles. I'm not saying you would never be able to use more standard prosthetics again, but doing anything but moving you to a different 'suit' would be very difficult, for you and the doctors involved. I know this isn't what we had in mind when we first discussed the idea of prosthetics. We'll give you some time to think, ok?"

It didn't take long for Weiss to make her decision.


"Obviously we'll take care of all the mechanics of how it'll work. Servos, joints, electronics, all of that," said one of Pietro's assistants on Weiss' project, a scrawny man in a lab coat and thick glasses. "What you need to tell us is what you want from all the extra stuff. So, the outer appearance and all that. A lot of military personnel get weapons installed in their prosthetics, for instance." He then rolled back his sleeve to display his own prosthetic, pointing at the ball joint for his wrist. "There're some things we can't change, how the joints work for instance, but there's a lot we can do cosmetically."

"Hmm, what do you think Weiss?" Jacques asked, stood with folded arms next to Weiss' bed.

"I don't know… Not just bare metal," she said definitely, remembering the glimpse she got of General Ironwood's prosthetics.

"Perhaps white? It would be a good match for the family's skin tone," Jacques suggested.

"... Sure," Weiss said with a shrug after a moment, unable to come up with a better idea. "Is it possible to make the prosthetics softer?" she asked. "More like skin? Metal would be very hard…"

"Ah, I see what you mean," the assistant said, nodding. "I'll need to speak with Doctor Polendina about different materials. We'll see what we can do."


"So, have you decided what sort of weapon you want to use?" Winter asked Weiss, brushing the younger girl's hair as they talked. "I remember you asking about a rapier in the past."

"I was thinking something a bit bigger maybe?" Weiss said, peering up at Winter. The surgery to install her replacement eye had happened a couple of days ago, and Winter had to admit they had done a very good job. The wound she'd suffered to her face had scarred, leaving a darker gash on the left side from her forehead, across her eye, and to the middle of her cheek. The new pale blue eye stared out at her, a perfect match in shade for the still-organic one, though the light shining from within it and the seams surrounding the iris and pupil betrayed its artificial nature. "Doctor Pietro said the final version of the body is going to make me a lot bigger, probably taller than you, and a lot stronger as well." Winter nodded along, dwelling briefly on the idea of having to look up to talk to her younger sister.

"Hmm, something bigger makes sense then, though not just a bigger rapier?" Weiss shook her head. "Alright then, what were you thinking? 'Bigger' is a broad category, sister."

"Definitely a sword. Grandfather used a sword, and I want to follow in his footsteps."

"Alright, a big sword then. Something two-handed, then?"

"Mhm. Aren't there some really big swords? Ones as tall as the wielder?"

"Yes. Greatsword, zweihänder, montante, spadone. The difference is mostly where in Remnant you're from, so an Altesian greatsword would be called a zweihänder. Unless you go for something Mistralian." Setting the brush down, Winter got out her scroll and brought up a picture of a zweihänder, showing it to Weiss.

"Yes, that," she said, nodding enthusiastically.

"Alright then. Not exactly my area of expertise, but I know some specialists who I'm sure would be happy to help train you." She put her scroll away and resumed brushing Weiss' hair. "The big surgery is in a few days, isn't it?"

"Mhm. Then I'll finally be able to do something by myself," she said with an impatient huff.

"Hmm. I'm sure you've already been told, but you know it's not going to be that easy, right?" she said gently, patting Weiss on the shoulder. "It's going to take time to get used to the prosthetics. It can take weeks for some people, and that's just a new hand or a new arm."

"I know, I know," Weiss huffed out again, letting her head thump against her pillow. "But even if I am falling over and dropping things, I will still be doing something," she emphasised. Winter nodded, meeting Weiss' eyes to let her know she understood, smiling encouragingly at her.

"Well, if anyone can get it done in record time, it'll be you. I still can't believe you convinced Father to let you become a huntress, it took me years to convince him."

"I don't really know how I did it either," she said, humming.

"Well, regardless I'm sure you're going to do great at it," Winter said, kissing her on the forehead after setting the hairbrush on the table by her bed. "I need to go eat something. Want me to bring you something?" Weiss shook her head, smiling. "Alright. Love you, Weiss."

"Love you too, Winter."