Chapter 4: A Place beyond Imagination

A/N: Yes! Another chapter posted, and hopefully this rate is okay for you guys out there. I'm serious, I worry that I'm not posting the chapters soon enough for you to enjoy (or at least read) them. It doesn't keep me up at night or anything (there's not much that does), but it still worries me.

Without further ado, here goes...


Yang stared through the window at the wintery scene outside. She heaved a heavy sigh, loathing how beautiful and serine the scene was. She had not moved from her bed in weeks, and within the past two, she refused to eat, getting thinner and scrawnier each day.

The loss of her arm was more than devastating to Yang. It would be months before she could be fit for action again… if she was lucky. She would most likely have to get a robotic prosthesis at this point.

She rubbed what was left of her right arm, now nothing more than a bandage-wrapped stump. Starting to shed tears, she desperately wished for a chance of her arm to return the way it used to be; then she scolded herself for clinging to a childish hope when reality proved otherwise. At that point, she broke down into silent weeping; this sadness that constantly crushed her into pieces. And she stayed in her bed, too depressed to move. Very few knew this side of Yang, now a broken down, depressed, and bitter shell of what she used to be.

She cried herself to sleep behind her closed door, the snow silently falling outside her window.


Winter walked out to the platform, the airship beginning to land as she did. Right as the boarding ramp descended, she walked up and boarded the ship, looking for the stowaway in the cargo hold. Then she saw her, wearing her conspicuous white dress, gathering her suitcase. "What on Remnant are you doing here?" she harshly asked, startling the stowaway, making her drop her suitcase. Weiss looked up and saw her older sister standing before her. "Winter!" she exclaimed, "I, uh, came to see you." Winter pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes.

"You ran away from home, stowed away in a cargo airship, just to see me?" she asked incredulously. Weiss opened her mouth to reply, but closed it again, looking down instead. "I thought so," Winter said. She started to pace, near-ranting, "Father will soon be after you now, you know that?" Weiss nodded. Winter turned toward her sister, stern worry in her eyes, "don't you know that you're a target here, the heiress to the Schnee Dust Company?" Weiss looked up, stating, "I'm not the heiress anymore."

That stopped Winter in her tracks, "Excuse me?"

Weiss explained, "Father revoked my inheritance and bestowed it to Whitley."

"He can't do that!" Winter exclaimed.

"He did it in My name!" Weiss countered.

They stood there for a moment, and then Winter took off her longcoat. "Come along," she said as she put it on Weiss, "you're going to stay with me." The two left the ship, and headed toward the safehouse.


Winter read her orders again.

Continue with current mission with subject.

She sighed and looked over at her sister sleeping on the bunk. "There's a lot you don't know, little sister," she quietly said, "things that will change your world forever." She looked out the window at the street outside.

It was empty.

She moved over and sat at a desk littered with papers and documents. From what she found here, the Ace of Spades was somewhere in northern Anima; question was, who was he? What did he look like?

And why did the General want him?

Weiss yawned, sitting up in bed, and stretched. Winter watched her as she shuffled her way to the bathroom, still in her dress. Winter turned back to the documents. She was very thankful for that recent tip that an odd, heterochromic young man lived up in northern Anima this time of year. The strange thing about the tip, was how the man who gave it to her remembered the man, "Come to think of it, you might be related, you both have the same hair,"

She heard the shower turn on, and she checked the street again; this time, a man briskly walked down the street, homeless and drunk judging by his grungy old coat and staggering pace.

She went over and knocked on the bathroom door, asking, "Weiss, do you require anything?" Weiss paused, and then answered, "No, not now, thank you." Winter returned to her desk. She looked over the papers again one last time, then decided what to do.

She gathered the papers and put them in a nearby portfolio. Weiss came up behind her and asked, "what's going on?" Winter turned around, serious, and saw Weiss, dressed only in a bathrobe, her hair wrapped in a towel. "Get yourself dressed," she said, "we're leaving."


Jaune walked the streets of Vale by himself. The others were gathering needed supplies, and Qrow was off getting them a transport. Although there were other people out on the street, Jaune wasn't registering them; he barely registered the street itself, too busy with his own troubled thoughts.

His time, however, they weren't focused on Pyrrha; rather, on the events of that morning. Specifically, on the look Blake gave him after the sunrise. On the surface, it was nothing; but with Pyrrha –her true feelings lost in Jaune's obliviousness– it seemed like nothing either.

Jaune kept walking. A man called out to him, but he didn't hear. All of a sudden, a hand on his shoulder shook him into reality. "Excuse me," the man said, "you dropped this." He handed Jaune back his scroll. Jaune thanked him and the man left. Jaune looked down at his scroll, and found Blake Belladonna's number entered, ready to dial. He stared wide-eyed at the screen in panic, and shut his scroll.

He decided to go back to the motel… quickly. He wasn't exactly feeling well. He decided then and there, as he hurried back, that, whatever intent her gaze meant, he would keep this to himself for now and wait to see what happens.


There was a knock on the door. "Yang, Are you okay in there?" the muffled of Taiyang said from the other side. She turned her head to the door and flatly said, "What do you think?" He sighed, "You've been very quiet lately." She opened her mouth to say more, but bit down on her tongue before she could.

"There's something we should talk about," he said, "may I come in?" She blinked, and then answered, "Shure." He walked in and sat at the edge of her bed. She turned back to the winter scene outside. "Well," he said, "your uncle's gone to get someone to help fix your arm, or so he says." Yang's eyes flashed red. "Somehow," he continued, "I get the feeling there's more to it than just that."

She turned to him and said, "What do you mean?" He paused, and then shook off the thought, "Never mind, it's just a funny feeling." She gave him a quizzical look as he went on, "Thing is, Qrow wants to get you back on your feet again, we all do." She heaved a sigh, "what's the point? Everyone thinks I'm a monster, since what happened at Vital…"

Taiyang looked away, remembering what he saw that day. Yang saw him turn and walk away, not quite knowing what he saw in her, but her guess, It's exactly what everyone else sees, was wrong. What he really saw in her was her mother, and it hurt. Raven had his heart before, and now her daughter was becoming more and more like her.


The five of them headed for the airship where Qrow was waiting. It looked like it belonged in a scrap heap. Simply put, it was an overly modified bullhead; complete with an enlarged cargo bay, and enough external Dust tanks to, in Ruby's opinion, get them to outer space and back.

Qrow came out and met them. "I know it doesn't look like much, but the pilot says she'll get us to Nefalhaymn Village in Northern Anima," he said, "from there, we'll be on our own."

"Are you sure about this Uncle Qrow?" Ruby said, eyeing the numerous scorch marks on the hull. "It's the fastest way to get there, Rubes," Qrow answered. They all boarded after that. Thankfully, there were plenty of seats for them: four seats were right behind the cockpit; twelve more lined both sides of the bay, six per side. Ruby took a seat behind the cockpit on the starboard side, the others took the bay seats, and Qrow took the copilot's chair.

After closing the bay doors and completing the pre-flight check, the pilot radioed for clearance. "How long," Qrow asked her, "exactly, is the flight?" She paused, then turned to her instruments and said, "If we're lucky, about seven or eight hours." He started to scowl. "If we don't get attacked by any Grimm, have excellent tail winds, and aren't forced down by Mistrali forces that is," she clarified. "If we're not?" he said. She turned to him, "realistically, it'd be more like ten to fourteen hours."

The bullhead got clearance for departure, and they lifted off for Anima.


She fidgeted as she stared out the window for the umpteenth time. Secretly, she was excited that someone would "fix her arm," but one fact made her uneasy: she didn't earn her arm yet, and she was too weak to do anything about it. She silently cursed her fortune that someone would help just because he owed her uncle a favor.

I'll have to decline, she thought, I can't get my arm until I earn it; but, then again, I'll do anything to get it back. If he does fix my arm, I'd be indebted to him, although I don't know how I'll pay him back for an arm.

She turned her gaze away from the window, and looked around her room. Her eyes settled on the solitary bracelet-form of what was left of Ember Celica; its mate had been disintegrated along with her arm. Her door opened and she looked up, and screamed at the vision she saw: Adam charging at her, crimson blade drawn. He turned to smoke before he reached her, but it still adversely affected her.

Taiyang barged into her room, seeing his daughter curled in a ball, shaking and whimpering. He went over and held her tightly, saying, "Ssh, it's okay, Daddy's here…"


The flight was remarkably dull. Ruby fell asleep an hour after takeoff, Jaune and Nora Followed suit, and Ren meditated in his seat. Blake, on the other hand, couldn't sleep; even though she tried, the noise of the engines kept her awake.

Then it happened. Right before they arrived in Anima, Blake nodded off. She dreamed she was back home in Menagerie. It made her cry. Walking down a hall, she heard a distant voice calling her name. Suddenly, she awoke, and heard, "Blake, it's time to go." She looked up to see Jaune sitting next to her. She blushed.


Ruby stretched as she got out of the bullhead. She looked at her surroundings; saw the snow-covered forests, the village buildings grouped together behind a stone-and-mortar wall, Jaune leading Blake out of the bullhead, and the mountain, jutting up like a sentinel guarding the lone village resting on it.

Qrow gathered them together and told them they'd retire at the village tavern. Tomorrow, they'd get up early and hike the mountain's trail to the lodge. Ruby walked around the village, sometimes greeting the really nice villagers, but mostly thinking about the man they were going to meet. The fact that Qrow said he was one of The Four Wolves, the last one, absolutely thrilled her. She had so many questions for him. She wondered how tall he was, what he looked like, and how he was able to defeat all those Grimm; but, most important of all, she wondered what his weapon was.


Many eons ago… in an entirely different universe…

He stood on top of a sand dune and watched as the last glimmers of the sun lit up the butterscotch sky. He glanced up, already seeing the two potato-shaped moons in the twilight sky, only to return his gaze to the horizon.

A figure approached from behind, one whom he considered his sister and close friend, Cynthia. "We're moving in ten," she said, her voice tinted with her Russian accent. "Hey, you okay?" He tilted his helmet toward her, and tried his best to shrug his shoulders in his pressure suit. "I'll live," he said.

She looked into his helmets faceplate, and through the engraving he chose for it. They both had decorations on their faceplates, Cynthia's had the face of a jackal… but his was a burning skull.

She triggered a private two-way commlink with him and said, "This godforsaken planet has taken its toll on all of us. The counsel gives us orders, and we obey them even though it makes us sick, and not because we're a different species." He sighed, "Keep in mind, Synth, we used to be Human, but we gave that up for this." He gestured to his body, before kneeling down and picking up a handful of rust-stained sand. "Nothing but monsters," she stated.

"Monsters made by monsters," he concluded, letting the sand slip from his gloved fingers. He turned back to where she came, and saw the remains of the practically razed science station, the bodies already buried in shallow graves.

They didn't say a thing, simply staring at the ruin in front of them.


A/N: So, this was a big chapter. Although something funny comes to mind: I'm not entirely convinced the Author's Note (A/N) is or isn't a sneaky way of adding words to a chapter, to make it look bigger.

and now, me replying to review:

Emiliano773: I'm sorry If I insulted you, I just didn't understand, I thought you were talking about his death, not about the whole Hummingbird thing... Anyway, about the Wolves, you'll have to wait and see; but here's a hint: It's probably not what you think. Pyrrha... well all I will say is that she is in a vaguely similar situation to what Church went through after he "died" in Blood Gulch.

Thanks for -you- who commented, I really appreciate the feedback! Although now It seems either this work is so bad that you can't find words to use, OR it's so good you're too thunderstruck to type. *grins devilishly while chuckling*

well, Abyssinia next time!