Weiss shuttered in the cold. The fog was thick and damp, and she could feel the moisture on her bare skin. She waved her hand, attempting to fan away some of the mist, but to no avail. Everywhere she looked was fog. She squinted, hoping to see through the view, but again had no success.

For a few moments, all the sounds she heard were the faint sound of wind and her own heavy breathing. She decided she had to get her bearings. She had seen Beacon moments earlier, so she just had to figure out what direction it was in.

Just as Weiss began to pivot her head to scan for the correct direction to go, she heard a noise. It was faint, but different than any of the others she had been hearing. It was a shuffling of some sort, like something light dragging across the stone path.

"Who's there?" Weiss asked aloud, spinning her head in every direction. She backed up and nearly felt her heart leap out of her chest and out her throat when she felt something brush against her back.

She yelped and jumped, spinning around in midair and landing to face the figure behind her. She almost lost a slipper and tripped doing so. Panting heavily, she took a few more steps backwards from the looming presence that now stood before her.

It was a tall figure with a feminine shape, almost entirely clad in a dark black cloak with a deep hood. Its face was invisible; shrouded in blackness and shadow from the hood. The cloak came down like a long dress over its feet, the swaying of the fabric being the only indication that the garment was not attached to the ground. Across the figure's chest and arms, black ribbons crossed and wrapped, with a little black bow tied over the figure's left breast like a macabre Holiday gift. The only indications of the figure's true appearance were a pair of pale hands emerging from the sleeves of the cloak, and two black, cat-like ears extending from the top of its head and out two small slits in the top of the hood.

Weiss gulped. "Am I addressing the Ghost of Holiday Yet to Come? The Future, that is?"

The figure said nothing. There was a gust of wind that made her cloak ripple and sway.

Weiss took a deep breath, but took a step forward. "I'm more afraid of you than any of the other Ghosts I've met tonight," she admitted. "But if you're here to help like the others, then I'll go with you willingly. Will you please speak to me?"

The Ghost did not say a word. Instead, she turned slightly and extended one of her ribbon-wrapped arms, pointing in the direction Weiss was facing. There was another gust of wind, and the fog parted with it. Weiss saw Beacon, no more than a few minutes' walk away.

"Alright, Spirit," Weiss conceded. "Lead the way." She began walking, rubbing her arms to both warm them and to hold them down and keep them from trembling. The Spirit waited until she was beside her, then they walked side-by-side towards the school. The only sounds the entire walk were Weiss' footsteps. The Ghost seemed to simply glide noiselessly over the stone.

As they grew closer, the fog began to dissipate, though not completely. Weiss glanced at the arches and pillars that surrounded the entrance path and gardens. She raised an eyebrow when she saw them cracked and a few crumbled. Though she thought to question it, she doubted she would get a response and just decided to assume that they needed better upkeep.

However, as Weiss and the specter drew closer, Weiss could see that the silhouette of the school, specifically the tower, was not how she remembered it. Squinting through the fog, she could see that the top of the tower was completely gone, and chunks of the buildings had been destroyed or otherwise opened. Something catastrophic had happened here.

"What… what happened?" Weiss asked. Again she received no reply, but she did hear a new noise above, like loud bursts of air. She glanced up to see a giant Nevermore Grimm flying above, its raven-like wings flapping loudly. It screeched as it passed overhead.

"What's a Grimm doing this close to the school?" Weiss asked, panicked. "Spirit, what happened?"

Suddenly Weiss heard another noise. She turned around to see a Beowolf charge out of the fog directly at her. She screamed a bit, stumbling back and falling on her rear. It stung as she landed and backed away. The Beowolf ran right above her, its powerful claws falling just shy of her legs and head as it galloped past. Weiss huffed and regained her composure, standing up and watching the Beowolf's trek. It parted the fog as it ran, and soon Weiss could see where it was headed.

The beast was joining a crowd of dozens of other Grimm. Ursai, Boarbatusks, a King Taijitu, and a Death Stalker were spread across the campus grounds, and were almost all converging on one point: a raised bit of stone, where three figures were perched on.

"What is happening, Spirit?" Weiss asked.

The Ghost of Holiday Yet to Come pointed at the commotion, then the fog began to grow thick again. Weiss glanced around and shuttered as her vision was once again obscured. Then, with a strong bought of wind, the fog dissipated, and Weiss found herself at the base of the raised stone looking up at the figures. Her eyes widened when she saw them.

Yang cocked her shotgun gauntlets, then fired a steady steam of fiery projectiles into the crowd of Grimm. A Beowolf growled and roared as it was hit and flew backwards.

"Yeah! Get some!" Yang shouted, though she was not wearing her typical excited smile that she usually wore when out fighting. Blake was on the other side, where she fired a few rounds from her weapons pistol form at an Ursai, driving it back.

On top of the rock was Ruby, her clothes torn and with a sizable gash on her forehead, which leaked blood. Most notably, her right leg had been mangled; only shreds of her typical back stocking were left, the rest was either bare and covered in gashes and bruises or messily wrapped with red and black fabric, a metal rod serving as a piece to a crude tourniquet. The limb was bent unnaturally, and it was swollen and twisted from the thigh to the foot. Ruby had her large scythe underneath her right arm, the handle collapsed enough so that it reached the ground without issue, and leaned on it as a makeshift crutch.

"Careful, Yang!" Ruby cried. "We need to get out of here so we can go get-"

"Leave her!" Yang snapped at her sister, whirling around, her eyes red. "She's not worth it." Then she turned away from Ruby and back at the Grimm. "You want a piece of me? I'll make you pay!"

Ruby clumsily limped forward and tried to reach to Yang. "Yang! No!" she yelled. "Listen to me, please!"

"You're gonna pay for everything you've done!" Yang shouted at the Grimm. With a mighty yell, she leapt off the stone and into the crowd of Grimm, punching and firing at everything she could.

"Yang!" Ruby cried. She tried to move forward again, but almost stumbled down the sheer surface of her platform. She instead turned to Blake.

"Blake! I need help!" she cried.

Blake was obviously panicking. She fired a few more shots as she backed up, hyperventilating and pivoting her head around. She clearly did not know what to say.

"Blake!" Ruby called, tears in her eyes. "I need you to talk to me, please!"

Blake lowered her weapon, then turned her head to Ruby, tears streaming down her cheeks as well. "I'm sorry, Ruby," she muttered before she sheathed her weapon and jumped as far as her Faunus legs would allow. She cleared a swarm of Grimm before she began to run.

"Blake!" Ruby screamed as she watched her friend flee into the distance, never turning back.

Meanwhile, Weiss watched all of this in shock and fright. She shook her head in disbelief, to stunned for any words or even reaction other than her eyes wide and her mouth ajar. She began to hyperventilate as well, her heart pounding in her chest. She watched as Ruby, her eyes full of tears and her spirit broken, turned to face the Grimm that were climbing up the stone. She slowly lowered herself into a seated position, then extended her scythe and transformed it into its sniper rifle mode. She pulled back the lever on the chamber and bean firing at every Grimm that approached, swerving and spinning her torso to fire at every angle she could. Even though she managed to hit and push back most of them, even managing to kill a Beowolf, they closed in quickly.

As Weiss watched, she noticed the fog closing in again. The image of Ruby's last stand was becoming hazier and hazier.

"No!" Weiss called, reaching towards her partner. "Stop! No!" Her pleas drew no response, as the fog closed in and once again Weiss was surrounded, unable to see anything but the fog, herself, and the Ghost beside her. As the fog finished moving, the sounds of the battle, the gunshots, the snarls, and the thudding, went quiet.

Weiss whiled around and tuned to the Spirit. "What happened?" she demanded. "How did they end up like that? What happens to them?"

The Ghost remained silent, again pointing into the fog. It parted where the Spirit had pointed, albeit a small amount, and Weiss saw what appeared to be the inside of a warehouse. Inside were a group of members of the White Fang, Faunus terrorists who had opposed her in the past, both in her life as a Schnee and in her training as a Huntress. One, who wore a white mask over his eyes and a pair of glasses over that, was sitting in a large wooden chair. He clapped his hands and rubbed them together as he addressed the others.

"All right!" he cheered. "Show me what you got me for the Holiday!"

One, a man dressed almost identically minus the glasses, stepped forward with a small case and handed it to him. The man with the glasses opened it up.

"Dust crystals," the giver explained. "Found them all over the place. I figured they're already worth something, so they might be worth even more considering where they came from."

"Nice, nice," the man in the glasses said. He closed the case. As he set it on the floor next to him, another White Fang goon stepped forward, a porcupine-like tail swaying behind him.

"Check this out," he said, revealing what looked like a long blade. "It's one of their weapons."

"Ooh, shiny," the man in the glasses said sarcastically, earning a disgusting laugh from the rest of the group. He took it and handled it. "Forged by the stiff themself, I'll bet." He set it next to the case.

Next was a woman with deer antlers protruding from her mask. She dumped a wad of familiar-looking crimson fabric on the man's lap.

"What is this?" the man asked, holding up part of the fabric.

The woman smirked evilly as she leaned in. "Bedsheets," she sneered.

"Bedsheets!" the man exclaimed in surprise and sadistic glee. He cackled. "You honestly went there and stole some dead students' bedsheets?"

The woman shrugged. "They don't need them anymore."

Weiss scoffed loudly and backed up. She was disgusted. These creatures had looted Beacon after it fell? What kind of monsters were they? Her stomach churned as the fog closed in again, and she turned to face the Spirit.

As soon as Weiss turned, she found herself on another side of the Beacon campus. Her feet were now buried in the snow, chilling her entire legs. She pulled her slippers out of the drift and shook the snow off of them, attempting to warm them. She looked out and saw the open fields of the Beacon grounds coated in deep snow. The Ghost of Holiday Yet to Come stood a few feet ahead, pointing down at a raised lump of snowfall.

Weiss shivered as she trudged through the snow over to where the Ghost was pointing. She glanced down at the snow, and though it took her a moment, she saw that the raised portion had the outline of a humanoid figure. Though this would be frightening enough, she nearly seized up when she saw a pale, fair hand poking out from underneath the mound, unmoving and lifeless.

"Spirit," Weiss stuttered, both from cold and from fear, "what is this?"

The Spirit simply extended her finger, continuing to point at the mound.

Weiss knew how easy it would be to kneel down and brush the snow away from the face, but was far to afraid to do so. She trembled.

"Spirit, t-t-this is a bad p-p-place. Please t-t-take me away from it; I'll make sure I r-r-remember it and learn f-f-from it."

The specter kept her finger on the mound.

"Please," Weiss pleaded, inhaling deeply. "Please just show me what happened to my team. That's what I want to know."

The Ghost hesitated a moment, then pulled her hand away from the snow. She drifted over to Weiss and stopped. Fog filled the area again, this time becoming so dense that it almost clouded Weiss' view of the Spirit right in front of her. The Spirit then shifted a bit further and extended her arm again, pointing at a separation in the fog. It was too dark to see what was there from where she was standing, so Weiss slowly walked over and peered through.

It was a dark room, save for a single hanging light overhead. In the faint light, Weiss could see crates and boxes lining the edges of the room. However, most predominantly, she could see Blake on her knees in the center of the light, with a tall man in a black blazer, jacket, and pants. He had a sword sheathed on his waist and a smaller variation of a White Fang mask on his face. Bright red hair almost covered up two black, bull-like horns on his head.

Weiss kept her focus on Blake, who wore a somber expression and had tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said to the man. "I thought I could do things differently. I was wrong."

"Of course you were," the man growled at her. "The others won't take desertion well, Blake. And neither will I."

"Please," Blake asked, looking up at the man. "I won't try it again. I know my place now."

The man seemed to react to her statement, though his expression was not entirely visible due to his mask. He pondered for a moment, then leaned down closer to her.

"I'll tell the others that you were on a secret mission that only I knew about," he said. "In return, you'll swear your allegiance to the White Fang and, most importantly, me in front of all of them. After that, you'll do whatever I say, or they'll learn that you betrayed us, and I won't stop whatever they decide to do to you."

Blake hung her head sadly. "I understand," she muttered.

"Good," the man snapped, straightening back up and looming over her. "Come along… my darling."

Weiss stared, waiting for Blake to rise or fight back, but instead the light above her dimmed, and soon all she could see was blackness. She squinted to try to see through it, only for the image to distort and vaporize in front of her eyes, transforming into and mixing into the swirling fog.

"Oh no," Weiss whispered to herself. She turned to see the Ghost of Holiday Yet to Come standing in the same spot, but this time pointing in the opposite direction. Weiss saw no parting in the fog, so she hesitated waiting for it, but when nothing happened and the Ghost remained with her arm and finger outstretched, Weiss gulped loudly and slowly wandered into the fog.

She could barely see. She would keep glancing down at her feet to make sure she was not going to trip over anything. Snow crunched beneath her slippers, and the powder that got in chilled her toes. She again waved one of her hands to try and part the fog as she walked. As she did this, a figure suddenly appeared before her, whom she almost slapped with her flailing. She yelped and stepped back, her arms dropping to her sides.

The fog at first looked like it was dissipating, but only thinned a bit, allowing Weiss to make out the figure of a muscular man with a thin beard and faded blond hair. He wore long yellow pants and a thick beige coat with a pair of fabric pieces tied around his left arm: one orange, the other red. In his hands he held two flowers: a rose and a sunflower, though how he had them so vibrant in wintertime Weiss could not say. His eyes were sad and low, and Weiss watched as he bent down and took a knee. Her heart stopped beating briefly when she saw two rounded headstones protruding from the snow in front of him, though the fog over the ground was still too thick for her to read them.

"Happy Holiday, girls," the man said in a low, sad voice. He gently placed the rose on the snow in front of one of the gravestones, and set the sunflower on the other. He hung his head and remained motionless for several minutes. Weiss did as well, though she noticed drops falling from the man's face and onto the snow. Suddenly the man inhaled sharply, startling Weiss. He stood up slowly, wiped his eyes, and walked away from the tombstones and into the fog, where he vanished from view.

Weiss was not prepared for what she was about to read, but stepped forward and did so anyway. All of her worst fears came true as she read the gravestones: RUBY ROSE and YANG XIAO LONG.

"Oh no," Weiss repeated, this time falling to her knees in front of the headstones. She ignored the cold as she lowered her head. She thought back to the last time she had seen them, and what had happened.

"I understand now," she said aloud, not caring whether the Spirit was listening or not. "We need to be a team. Ruby needs to learn how to be a leader. Yang needs to learn to listen and control her impulses. Blake needs to learn how to communicate and open up. But none of that happens unless they lower their defenses and start to trust each other. And that trust…" she looked up at the names on the tombstones, "…starts with me. I need to change. I need to learn to be kind and accepting, both of them and the Holiday I've held so much animosity towards. If I don't start the cycle of change, it will never happen."

Weiss raised her head and saw the Ghost looming above her. "Please," she said, a tear running down her left cheek, "take me home."

The specter did not answer. Instead, she turned and pointed again, past the headstones and into the fog.

"No more, please," Weiss asked.

The Ghost kept her finger pointed, insistent. Weiss wiped her cheek and shakily stood, slowly following the Spirit's direction. As she walked, the fog became thinner and thinner, until suddenly it was gone entirely. Weiss gasped as she saw what the vanishing fog revealed. She was standing in a mass gravesite in a large field, gravestones lined symmetrically for hundreds of feet in every direction. In the nighttime sky, she saw giant flying Grimm unlike any she had ever seen before, and too many smaller ones to count. She did not understand what she was seeing, but thought she could vaguely see a humanoid figure standing on top of one of the large Grimm.

As her eyes fell back down, she saw the Ghost standing over a grave a few yards away. Weiss inhaled deeply as she began making her way over, careful to avoid tripping or stepping on any of the other graves. She finally reached the tombstone the specter was pointing at, which was covered in snow an illegible. However, Weiss could not bring herself to uncover it now. She fell to her knees, looking around her morbid surroundings, thinking of her team and allies, and knowing that she needed to do better.

"Oh Spirit," Weiss whimpered, tears coming to her eyes again. "Please tell me one thing. Are these things you've shown me going to happen, or could they only maybe happen?"

The Spirit did not speak. She kept pointing to the headstone.

"Please tell me these events can be changed!" Weiss cried.

The Ghost remained motionless.

Weiss, now sobbing, leaned forward, her spine aching as she did so. Her knees felt frozen solid, and her cheeks and eyes already stung. She placed her hand on the tombstone and slowly brushed away the snow, revealing her own name: WEISS SCHNEE.

Weiss wept as she recalled her hand. "I'm the one lying dead in the snow, aren't I?" she whimpered. "The one who, because of no one's actions but my own, was left alone, untrusted and uncared for." She dipped her head down again. "No… no, no, no!" She remembered that only Ruby had wanted to return for her.

"Spirit!" Weiss sobbed, reaching forward and gripping at the Ghost's dark cloak. "I'll be better! I'll keep my promise and be the best teammate I can be! Why show me this if all hope is lost?"

The Ghost of Holiday Yet to Come did not gesture or speak.

"I won't forget what I've learned!" Weiss wept, shutting her crying eyes tightly as she gripped harder on the cloak. "I'll live in the Past, Present, and Future, and will honor the Holiday and all who celebrate it! Please tell me that I can save them! Please tell me that I can save my team! My allies! My companions! My friends!"

As Weiss opened her eyes to look on the Ghost of Holiday Yet to Come again, she saw that the Spirit was no longer there. Her hands were gripping tightly on red bedsheets. In front of her was not a dark sky and foggy graveyard, but Team RWBY's dormitory room, warm and empty, with rays of morning light peeking from behind the curtains.