The Random Hand of Fate

by TheMightyTeaRex

"Destiny is not set in stone. It only takes one grain of rice to tip a scale, one pebble falling into the sea to start a tidal wave; Every action, no matter how small has an effect on the future. So, tell me... do you believe in destiny?" Real-world SI. First-time fanfic. Rated M for violence, gore, swearing, smut (later on) and alcohol. Warhammer 40K characters in Remnant.

28. Testing the Waters

Considering my school work, several RPs on Discord and 16 hours of work each week, I'm amazed I made my target date this time around. Anyhow, here comes the chapter you guys were waiting for.

Enjoy...

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Chapter 28: Testing the Waters

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If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle. —Sun Tzu, The Art of War

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Cinder had a great deal of history fighting Huntsmen of all stripes and creeds; Professionals from Mistral, students in Vacuo who had gone too far astray from their mission, mercenary teams for hire deep in the forests of Anima, the odd Huntress here, a random drunk soldier there. All of them had been easy to remove, easy to clear with only her fighting skills and her Aura. She remembered several of their faces quite easily, their defeats and respective deaths either amusing or very detailed in her memory. She remembered the massive Bear Faunus Huntsman from Hanigura she found on the way to Haven to first meet with Lionheart, his massive punch daggers failing to hit her at all as she closed in and slit his throat open. There was that one olive-skinned girl outside of Mountain Glenn so many years ago that Cinder had long since forgotten exactly when, only that it had been her first Huntress kill and that no kill after it had been quite like it. Cinder Fall was not inexperienced in the matters of combat, murder and assassination.

Why she had even been busy this morning reliving the memory of her fight with the Fall Maiden. Oh, how that memory was so fresh, so livid, almost a bit too exhilarating for her to mentally consume. She never could hae taken the girl on alone in raw power, of that even she was vehemently aware of; no normal Huntsman could go blow-for-blow with a Maiden and have any chance of survival unless the Maiden didn't seek bloodshed that day. But cunning always won out the day over brute force, and Cinder wanted that very brute force. To make it her own... to forge it and herself... to become something far greater, far more powerful, far more... divine, to put it modestly in her mind.

And the power of the Maiden—even if it did resist her on occasion—was truly divine-feeling. The heat that embraced her bones and—

"Ms. Fall, tell me: are you up for a spar?"

Cinder blinked in surprise at the mention of her name, her mind returning from its vacation in her memories. She had expected that eventually someone would attempt to spar with her and she would have to decide if she mopped the floor with them or she let them win to throw the Inquisition off her trail. Every action was a step on a tightrope, and while she was deft at working plans to her advantage no matter how poorly things were going otherwise. She never lost unless it meant she would win in the long run. If she lost, she got even fast; no one would ever be allowed to hold a victory over her.

Cinder cleared her throat as she looked down towards the auditorium. She recognized the voice, but she could swear to herself and Salem that the owner of that voice would have to be absolutely stupid or acting on Ozpin's orders—

She felt a twinge of a frown across her face as her amber eyes met coffee brown eyes. His focus on her was scarily sharp, as if his eyes would turn into throwing daggers at the first sign of her mask of normalcy dropping. Their lock on one another was ironclad even at such a distance, her eyes darting to check if his face yielded any semblance of deceit in its movement, any traces of jest in his eyes or his brows. But the look on his face—while still a smile—was enough to tell her that he was dead serious.

Who was he to challenge her to a duel in the ring, one part of her mind screamed in outrage, only to be snuffed in the velvet claws of her self-control and iron authority. She blinked as she allowed a polite smile to encroach upon her face. "Oh," she said with faux-surprise, "I would be delighted to, Mr. Muller. It's been quite a while since I've sparred for an audience; perhaps now is the time to rectify that."

While at face value a lie, she actually spoke some manner of truth; She hadn't sparred in front of an audience since she had shown up Tyrion in front of Salem and Watts some two years—or perhaps it had been three years—ago.

Muller's smile seemed to shift in some way, a hint of fear in his eyes manifesting that betrayed the widening of his smile and the furrowing of his brow. "Smells like a good, old-fashioned fight."

Cinder's jaw clenched slightly at his tone. This wasn't a coincidence.

Several of the students around him muttered things in such tones that they were clearly words of confidence, though the only one she could actively hear was the blonde and buxom girl comment, "Whoo! Go get her, tiger!"

Cinder suppressed the urge to scoff. As if he would be worthy of me. At the least, he is worthy of tasting my strength.

She stood up and began to walk down towards him, letting her steps remain calm and poised as she descended, a smirk at the likelihood the boys in the crowd were ogling the goddess descending the stairs. It took less than ten seconds to close the distance between them, the two of them standing within their personal bubbles. Cinder suppressed a contentious chuff as she realized that even for him being a twenty-year old man she stood almost 6 inches taller than him in her two-inch heels. If she hadn't known better, she would have called him a child digging too deep into the game of gods and monsters.

But there was dangerous edge to his eyes that spoke of knowledge she wasn't privy to, mired with that hint of fear, as if he knew too well what she held within her. Could he have seen through her disguise so easily? Did he already know she was the Fall Maiden?

"Alright then," she heard Goodwitch say from the auditorium floor. "Ms. Cinder Fall versus Mr. Jacob Muller. Would both combatants please head to the lockers to prepare their gear?"

Jacob nodded as he offered Cinder a handshake. "Good luck."

She smiled with a venomous coyness, countering with the same gesture as their last encounter; she offered the back of her hand daintily, as if begging him to kiss it.

He seemed to hesitate at first, only to drop a façade over his face and play her game, his tiny but squared hand taking her dainty but larger hand and bringing up to his lips. She felt the tiniest kiss on the spot just above her middle finger, a small pucker of air releasing and tickling her skin there.

She smiled with the tiniest traces of malice made visible to Mr. Muller. You dance to my tune, boy.

Around them, students whistled and cheered as they mistook their game of cat and mouse as a courtship. How quaint to her, in all honesty; then again, hormones addled the brains so as that everything that was remotely flirtatious in appearance would lead to someone bedding another. She would have let out a short and cruel laugh were she not attempting to remain undercover.

Mr. Muller came up from his kiss still wearing a cruel and knowing smile of his own, his face slightly puckered in pain as if his lips had been scorched by her very skin. "Let's give them a show."

I intend to, she thought as she let out a near-nonexistent snort in retort to his comment.

A few minutes later, Cinder was sitting down in the ladies' locker rooms, sharpening her swords and the tips of her arrows as she thought over what was to happen. Once upon a time, she had loved the sound of a grindstone against her steel and mithril-alloy blades, relishing in the sharp and fierce ring as the blade was made to a fine edge sharp enough to slice a throat in a single cut. Nowadays, though, it was a shallow reminder of when she was a lesser being, not imbued with the power of the gods and forced to fight as everyone else did. If she had her way, she would have scorched him with the powers of the Fall Maiden, simply flicking her wrist to incinerate him on the spot. She relished in her imagination's cruelty, watching the wannabe Huntsman erupt into a screaming mass of burning human.

A heat rising in her stomach punched her out of her daydream, threatening to make her double over. She growled as she clutched her chest, feeling the power lash out again.

"Son of a bitch," she hissed to the void, "it's getting worse."

She closed her eyes and breathed in a colossal breath, trying to quell the flame within her in the gust of wind she drew to her lungs. Somehow it began to work, though far more slowly than it should have by all account, the flames licking at the inside of her for a few minutes. It was like being boiled alive, the power refusing to submit to its rightful heir.

It bit at her, and she hissed in response. "You are mine to control," she said. "You will obey me."

She imagined an iron hand wrapping around the flame, cutting its air off to choke the life from it. The heat began to drop, her authority forcing it down. It was weakening, yes, but if she let her concentration slip, it would be back to Square 1.

BEEP! BEEP!

Cinder startled at the ring of a shrill buzzer, the heat returning to her bosom. She looked up to see an alarm and a lighted sign, requesting of her to enter back into the Auditorium proper.

"Fuck," she roared quietly to herself, slipping back into her thoughts. If she could just... suppress it...

The fire was in her mind's eye again, dancing playfully, viciously, as if mocking her. It aggravated her, embarassed her, enfuriated her. She would not bow to this at such a moment as this.

She took a deep breath again, closing her eyes as a thought crossed her mind.

Perhaps an iron hand won't work...

The hands appeared again in her mind, threatening the renewed fire again. But this time, the hands suddenly fused together, the mass it formed encircled the flames; from the mass, fingers grew long, sharp and pointed like teeth, the form of the hand itself bulking with unseen power, both mechanical and of something else. Energy crackled from the claws, blacks, reds, oranges and violets that reminded Cinder of a midnight fire. From the back of the wrist came shapes like gun barrels and ammo belts, glaring the flame down with cold fury, the kind that extinguished stars and rattled hearts with fear. The talon encircled the flame like a great cage, squeezing itself around the flame with slow, encroaching horror of oblivion.

SCHLIK!

The talon closed, and the heat seemed to settle. It was not fully gone, but it was at least back to some manner of normality.

She grinned maliciously, letting out the breath slowly, methodically. "Like I said... I'm the one in control here."

She alighted to her feet, her duro-glass slippers clacking with reverb throughout the room as she walked out towards the auditorium. Every arrow she had was loaded, her blades Shade and Shock now sharp and the energy cord between them when in blow form empowered and ready for use.

"The Maiden will have to wait to come out and play, I'm afraid. Today is Cinder Fall's day in the spotlight."

---

"Do you guys really think he could handle her?"

"In all honesty... I have doubts, I'm afraid."

"Ren, how could you?!"

"I mean, of course I'm rooting for him, but by what we do know of Team CMNE, Cinder is quite the strong fighter. Jacob is entering a fight far more advanced than he really should try for."

"Well, if he doesn't get out of his comfort zone, he'll never get better, right?"

"Guys, let's just root him on, okay?"

Pyrrha blinked as her partner's voice reached her ears. She turned to look at him, catching the gaze of his sapphire blue eyes as he watched her. He looked poisitively radiant to her, his bid dopey smile giving her pause as she felt those same tickles of metaphorical butterflies in her stomach.

"He'll be alright," Jaune said calmly, a mindset he reinforced with the brightness to his eyes. He flashed smile. "He's been training with Pyrrha and I, right?"

Pyrrha blinked again, feeling the slightest tinge of physical wear from her battle with Cardin and his goons. "Uhm... of course," she replied, "he should do well against her. I mean, my training isn't as intrinsic as it should be, but he knows enough of the basics that he shouldn't have a hard time..."

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Pyrrha began doubting that she had been the best teacher for him thus far as she thought more and more about Jacob's comment from a few nights earlier. At first, some part of her had felt a little bit betrayed by the action, only for her common sense to slap that feeling out of her. At this point, the most she could do was continue to teach him in regards to using Cadia's sword form rather than its chainsaw form; Professor Cain, on the other hand, was well known in Atlas and to some degree in the other Kingdoms for his skill with the very same weapon, having carved through hundreds of Grimm during his career as an active Huntsman in the field. Was it so wrong of him to look for other tutors where she couldn't be of help?

BRZZT!

Pyrrha jumped as a bell rang from up in the rafters of the auditorium. The bell to clear the center ring; the fight was about to start.

It was Jacob who stepped out first, coming in from the opposite side of the auditorium from where JNPR and RWBY were. He seemed to walk out with a sharp focus in his eyes as he watched across the way, taking small, slow steps as his hands sat in his jacket pockets. Cadia and Titan hung from his belt, the gunmetal weapon still in its sword form as it remained in its still plain and monotone scabbard. He seemed less like he was about to fight and more like he was about to take a leisurely stroll around the campus. His mouth was crinkled up in a grimace as he ran a hand through his thick pelt of hair, giving him an unsure look to his every move.

But Pyrrha didn't need to look too hard and too closely to see there was some manner of fire in his eyes, as if he was sure he would win—at least at first guess as to what it meant.

Then came the tiniest sound that Pyrrha could still audibly hear.

Click, click, click, click, click...

Around the room, wolf-whistles echoed about from several of the boys, and even that one girl Piniona from Team PINK as well. Pyrrha watched the entrance to the locker rooms as the sound of heeled boots meeting the floor

A single leg entered into the light with a quick step, long and toned, the foot at the end in what looked like dressy date-night boots as the leg itself was clothed in olive-grey, tight pants. Another step and more of her came into the light, Pyrrha immediately noticing the seductive swagger to her every step, as if she was enticing every boy in the room to root for her. Her bare midriff and the odd wrapping of bandages on her hips beneath her pants gave her a rogueish air as she strutted into the light. Pyrrha still couldn't get over the risqué sarashi that she wore beneath her light tan leather vest, as if she was a bordello girl from Mistral's undercities. Her hair left free and a bang drawn over her eye as there was a confidant, nearly-arrogant smile across her face, intensified by... a true fire in her eyes.

Pyrrha blinked. Had she not known that Ms. Fall had bright amber eyes, she would have thought that her eyes were really made of flames.

"Break a leg, Jacob," Nora cried out, having manifested a tub of popcorn for her and Ren to share.

"Sweep her off her feet~!"

Pyrrha looked over at Yang as she finished saying that, the blonde bruiser unable to hide her teasing smile before Pyrrha could see it.

Pyrrha cocked an eyebrow as if to say, 'really' to her.

Yang shrugged. "What?"

The two combatants stepped onto the platform, Jacob popping his knuckles as he approached the center of the ring. There, Professor Goodwitch stood with her crop and Scroll, ready to referee the match.

Cinder met him at the center, her face away from Pyrrha as they listened for Glynda's rules.

"Alright, you two," she said loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, "I want a good fight; additional gear is usable, first one to 10% Aura loses. Bring out your weapons and tap them."

Jacob's gaze never left Cinder, a noticeable tightness to his stance as he reached for Cadia and brought it out with a clean draw, bringing it up to his face in a military salute. Cinder returned the gesture, reaching for two scimitars at her side and drawing them with lightning speed, spinning them like a whirling dervish of steel as she brought them up and across her torso, looking to all the world as though she was emulating a pirate's flag. The two leaned their weapons forwards, the blades clacking together like the crack of lightning.

In the back of her mind, Pyrrha started wondering if there was more to this fight than at first glance.

"Alright," Glynda said, "take positions across the way. Good luck to both of you."

Glynda turned and began to walk, but neither moved away at first. Jacob looked like he wanted to say something at first, only the words seemed to stop in his throat. He shook his head and then seemed to finally decide against it, pulling his blade away with a twirl and the sound of the blade signing as it cut through the air.

Pyrrha now could see the look on Cinder's face; it was ponderous and amused all at once, as if something had clicked in her mind. Maybe she had finally noticed that he liked her?

They stopped on their respective ends of the auditorium and turned. Cinder spun her blades about and twirled on her feet in a fine-tuned dance, not unlike a Vacuan belly dancer with her silks and sashes. She stopped with her blades crossed as she was poised to spring forwards and charge him point blank. Jacob retorted as he spun Cadia ferociously, the sound of metal shifting and an engine awakening as its chainsword form revealed itself. He stomped once and turned sideways, spreading his legs out and bringing Cadia back behind him and yanked Titan from his belt thrusting it forward. It was a simple opening stance, but it was smart to open with his ranged weapon; though, now, Pyrrha couldn't help but notice the quiver of arrows on Cinder's back.

Swords that change into a bow. That's not good.

"Huntsmen, ready," Glynda said as she tapped her Scroll. Overhead, the defensive energy shielding that protected the bleachers buzzed to life, enwrapping the stage in a blue, faint light before fading and becoming invisible.

"Get set... Fight!"

BRZZT!

Before the echoes of the sound have even finished reverberating through the building, Cinder had leapt forwards into the air, bringing her blades together as gunshots rang out to announce Jacob's volley at her. Pyrrha had to bite back a shocked gasp as she watched Cinder fly high overhead, to heights Pyrrha only reached when she drew upon her Semblance to yank her towards her opponents. She saw the swords reconnecting as Cinder brought an arrow to nock in the bow—no, scratch that, three arrows. Cinder drew back the string as she began to descend again within the span of a second, a whistle heralding the three arrows' flight. The black and steel, artistic-concave arrows soared in a spiral around the center one, looking to catch Jacob in the forehead.

Jacob ducked out of the way with milliseconds to spare, rolling and spinning back onto his feet as Cinder landed and followed suit, only for her to slide into a kneel and bring her bow-swords up into Jacob's face pommels-first. The attack slammed into the patch of Aura surrounding his nose, sending him back a step as he swung wild with Cadia. Cinder leaned back onto her legs and kicked outwards as the legs became free, catching him in the knees and sending him to the ground. Jacob didn't take a moment or even a stunning like that to stop him, rolling on his side and coming back up onto his feet with a few steps of backpedaling. Cinder vaulted back upright, like a cat chasing its prey. She began following him as he backed away, the fight lulling after that brief second of fighting.

Pyrrha let out a small hum in her throat as she watched them; Jacob's posture, the wildness in his eyes, the wobbliness to his stance, all of it were bad signs by Pyrrha's consideration; he needed to calm down or he would risk losing the fight. Granted, he was playing it safe as she clearly was following him along rather than forcing him into a corner; he was moving first before she would follow suit.

Cinder, on the other hand, exhumed the confidence akin to the most veteran of Huntresses. She seemed at ease as she followed him, her arms relaxed as she held her blades close to her. Pyrrha couldn't deny that by her behavior alone she was well-versed in man-to-man combat. It was almost... unsettling, in all honesty.

"She's good," Jaune said as he continued to watch their battle.

"Really good," Yang replied as Team RWBY scooted in beside their sister-team, sans a very tired-looking Blake. "You'd think she regularly fights in tournaments or something. Have you ever seen her before, Pyrrha?"

Pyrrha shook her head. "She's never been in the Mistral Regionals as far as I've been aware... come to think of it, I never saw her at Sanctum either, as one of my classmates or as one of my upperclassmen."

"Perhaps she was home-schooled," Weiss offered as she looked over, only for her gaze to dark back at the sound of metal clashing against metal, "and by extension... she was... good enough that Headmaster Lionheart let her in... on merit?"

Pyrrha's gaze snapped back up to the fight as Weiss' comment had been interrupted by a stream of melee attacks by Cinder. She had darted in close to Jacob, becoming a graceful tornado of steel. Jacob could barely stop her blades with Cadia, gunning its engine as he swung into the blur of a warrior. Just as before, she slinked under the blade like a bending reed, the chain-teeth breezing her chest and nose by inches. This time, however, he was ready, kicking his foot out to catch her heel. She saw it make impact, but Cinder didn't go down in a tumble; rather, she was quick to hit her back and then somersault backwards, the Huntress bringing her blades up as she performed her vault.

Pyrrha cringed as Jacob went seven feet into the air, lobbed into the air by Cinder's attack. He audibly screamed as went up, only to be juggled as her swords morphed back into a bow to lob several arrows in rapid succession. Each hit Jacob just off center, sending him into a spin as he crashed back down stomach-first onto the cold, hard floor.

The sympathy groans echoed across the room, only voided by Cardin and his team, as well as several others cheering Cinder on. "Show 'em how it's done, hot-stuff!"

Cinder tossed her hair as she turned to Cardin and the rest of the audience. She seemed to smirk, striking a small pout of her hips to her pose as she brought her hand up over her mouth. Pyrrha didn't know whether to be irked or impressed by her as Cinder feigned a kiss into her hand before blowing it out into the crowd, getting several whistles in reply.

"Get up, Jacob," Ruby cried out, bringing Pyrrha's attention back to Jacob. Cadia and Titan were both strewn about in front of him, the Huntsman trying to return to his feet but failing horribly. He was clutching his head as his line of sight bored into the ground, his body stuck in a kneel as he seemed to fight off the dizziness he was clearly feeling. With a shake of his head and an unsteady rise, he picked up Cadia and Titan, turning about to face Cinder.

He revved Cadia, clearly trying to get her attention. Cinder payed him no mind.

Now Pyrrha was unsure whether this battle was actually good-natured or not. Jacob's grimace tinged with anger only seemed to prove her point more.

He lunged forwards, the engine roaring to life as he brought the blade up to slash diagonally. Pyrrha winced as she noticed his poor footing. His left foot was too low, blade too far back, chest was open to attack despite his arm being in front of it; he was committing too much into his swing and not enough into being able to change.

Cinder didn't even seem to flinch or balk, spinning on her heels to catch Cadia with her blade. The two swords ricocheted off of one another, Jacob's blade sending him wheeling backwards. Cinder closed in and stabbed at his chest, catching him right beneath the left side of his ribcage. With enough force to send him tumbling back onto his back. He didn't stay there, though, using the momentum to roll back into a crouch, Titan now back in his hand as he brought it up. There was a retort of 380s as he snapped off an entire clip of shots in close range, Cinder only managing to weave between four of the seven shots. The last three slammed into her one after another; her leg kicked out behind her as her Aura caught the first bullet of Lightning Dust, catching her off as she landed in a crouch, before the other two slammed into her head, sending her into a backflip as her red and gold Aura flared in reply. She managed to resume control of herself, continuing her backflip before she vaulted high and twirled in a flourish mid-air, coming down in a kneel as she brought back her blades as if the maw of a large insect opening wide.

Now the crowd was actively starting to root for Cinder, cheering at her recovery. Pyrrha applauded nonchalantly at the admittedly-impressive control Cinder was showing as she fought; She must have been trained by one of the many professional Huntsmen before she was enrolled in Haven, no doubt about it.

"She's amazing," Ruby said, staring at the fight with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

"Her control is almost professional," Weiss replied.

Pyrrha nodded. "She could probably beat any one of us in a battle," she said aloud, "maybe even in a fight like mine with Team CRDL."

"You can do it, Jacob," Yang cried out, "show her who's boss!"

Jacob reloaded Titan with a few motions, chambering by pulling back the slide back with his belt. He clicked the button to change Cadia back into a saber in his other hand, leveling Titan at his side as he yanked it free of the belt and let loose another volley. Cinder wheeled around the cone of fire in a graceful dance as her blades rebounded and redirected the Dust rounds away. She righted herself and launched forwards in the same motion, clearing a huge distance with a few steps.

Jacob audibly growled at Cinder, taking off into a charge of his own, how own blade drawn back in a similar gesture as before. "Courage and Honor," he roared out as he swung down, catching Cinder's blades as the two closed the distance in the center of the platform. Cinder vaulted over him with no effort again, only to crest over Jacob's gun arm.

"Ooh boy," Yang snickered from beside Pyrrha.

Pyrrha winced as another Dust shot slammed into Cinder's back as Jacob thought fast, bringing his sword around and slashing in the same spot. Cinder flew forwards about ten feet, only to spin and stab the ground beneath her, redirecting her momentum to launch back at him. Jacob had no time to duck out of the way, taking the brunt of her boots in the chest, sending him backwards as she launched off of him in the same attack, her swords changing them back into a bow. Before Pyrrha could blink, Cinder had fired two arrows at her opponent, both slamming into his chest and sending him crashing to the ground in a rolling heap.

The room seemed to be conflicted between cheering for the engaging fight that it was or being in silence as they watched Pyrrha's friend and student. Pyrrha leaned forwards and shifted forwards beside her partner, her mind registering that her hand now rested on Jaune's but her mind focused on her friend, laying there on the ground.

A second or two later, there was a stir of movement. He budged slightly at first, a small groan escaping his throat as his arms slowly pulled them under his body. He tried to rise at first, only for his arms to very clearly buckle. He tried again, getting a lot more inertia on this attempt and managing to raise himself off the floor.

The silence in the room was deafening, only punctuated by his groans. After a few seconds, he had staggered to his feet, still clutching Cadia and Titan tightly in his grip.

Cinder stood, looking curiously at him, as if studying him. "My, my, you're a determined one, Mr. Muller," she said with a chuckle as she absently spun her blades. "It is a real treat fighting someone as spirited as you, but I don't want to push you too far. You sure you can keep going?"

Pyrrha looked back at him, a distance in his eyes for a few seconds as he looked down towards the ground. He looked back up to the crowd, the Huntsmen and Huntresses in the bleachers calling for him to call it quits; Even Pyrrha knew that he was well and outmatched against her. It was apparent even on the overhead, as his Aura was dropped to 46% whereas Cinder's was only down to 83%. Gods, even looking at the two of them side-by-side said a lot in comparison; Jacob was looking tired and well-winded despite his Aura supercharging his endurance, while Cinder... she hadn't broken even that much of a sweat, perhaps a drop or two that made her brow shine brighter.

Pyrrha glanced back and forth between them, stopping as she realized that his eyes had trained on her now. It was a simple stare that seemed dazzled, as if he was remembering something by seeing her sitting there. Part of her felt... unnerved by his stare, admittedly. But another part of her felt like he wanted to project something to her, like... like a shield.

Just what is going through his mind?

That distance seemed to clear up a few seconds later, the fire and focus from before back again. "Sorry about that," Jacob said, his voice tired but strong again as his voice reached the bleachers. He brought Cadia back around, bringing it up in front of him as he thumbed Titan's side. His feet were apart, his back hunched as if he was ready to spring. The smile on his face seemed tinged with some hidden humor, as if there was an unspoken joke between the two of them. "But in all honesty, in regards to fighting you, I think I could do this all day."

There were a couple cheers from the bleachers as he puffed out his chest. Pyrrha appreciated the sentiment, even letting a small smile slip out.

Cinder let out a chuckle, one that Pyrrha swore sounded both amused and a tinge dark in its tone. "Well, I suppose we should finish this, then?"

Jacob bowed his head. "Ladies first."

Cinder said nothing, only spinning her blades again before leaping forwards into a sprint. Jacob backed up and began firing, flinching as if expecting her to do the same move again. Instead, Cinder slid low, riding her momentum like an ice skater as her swords became a bow again, the bullets skimming overhead as she closed the distance; twenty feet out, fifteen, ten feet, the gap closing fast. She launched another two arrows at Jacob, the arrows coated in some kind of Fire Dust if the fact they were catching fire was any indicator. Jacob yanked himself aside as the first arrow slid through the air where his should had been, the second one following in close pursuit. He snapped off two more rounds, the shots pinging off the floor beside her as she spun backwards, leaping up in the same motion to lunge at him, as if she were a sentient cyclone.

Jacob's eyes went visibly wide as he ducked, Cinder's bow-blades nearly giving him a raider haircut as they zoomed by. He rolled forwards and tossed an IED from his jacket pocket as she hit the ground, Cinder somersaulting away from him as the IED exploded into a shower of Lightning Dust. Jacob skidded onto his rear as he rolled away, rolling about to empty the last few shots at her. Cinder twisted and spun like a dancer again, all of the bullets missing her and pinging off of the bleacher shielding behind her. Another arrow was loosed by her, flying like a black and fire-red shrike, Jacob not even moving to try to dodge it.

Pyrrha winced yet again as the arrow smacked him chest first, sending him tumbling backwards again. He recovered from his roll, wincing and holding his chest tightly as he recovered. His ammo spent, he started charging back at her, looking to get into a melee fight. Cinder obliged without hesitation, engaging her swords again and sprinting forwards to honor his proposition. The two clashed in the center of the auditorium, saber meeting cutlasses in a single, monolithic crash. They stood that way at first, a shoving match to decide who was stronger. Around them the crowds grew louder and louder, cheering both parties on; it was a polarizing mess.

Teams RWBY and JNPR watched on in rapt intensity, their own reactions varied. Jaune and Nora were openly cheering Jacob on, Yang and Ruby joining them while Weiss and Ren watched in silence, their eyes refusing to leave the battlefield. Pyrrha herself was cheering him on in her head, not wanting to become too much of an external force.

At first, Jacob seemed to be holding his ground, his more stout and squared form giving him a decent anchor to hold Cinder at bay. But a quick glance at the board told Pyrrha that he was pushing his limit; he was down to 24% Aura from those two volleys of arrows, each one clearly having a massive effect despite the gradual strengthening of his Aura. It showed as well in how much his Aura was augmenting his body, his strength visibly waning compared to the start of the fight, the faint glow of a failing Aura permeating his body. He was breathing heavily and his neck, forehead and cheeks were starting to sweat fairly openly. Despite holding out longer in the field and against Weiss, something about this fight was throwing him off, making his Aura drop quicker. Maybe Cinder's arrows packed a lot more punch than both he or Pyrrha herself had expected?

Speaking of which, Cinder, by contrast, didn't even seem winded. The faint shine of sweat wanting to build on her forehead, but otherwise there was nothing that really was Jacob's doing, nothing that had been incited by his attacks or his efforts; Even the shots from Titan had done little to her. If anything, she seemed to have redoubled her energy, now striking against Jacob with even more force behind her. It didn't help that her Aura must have been amazingly high in the first place, as with all the hits done to her she hadn't even lost a full quarter of her Aura yet.

She must have a Class-8 Aura, maybe even a 9, Pyrrha realized with some degree of shock. Not even she had an Aura that strong, hers only reaching Class-7. Pound for pound, Cinder could take twenty times as much damage.

About then Jacob's Aura was at best a Class-4 when last assessed. He had wandered into this fight with a clear disadvantage and probably didn't even realize it.

That disadvantage began to manifest as the fight started to turn. Jacob started twitching, his arms avoiding caving as much as they possibly could, Cinder starting to apply force back at him. His head dipped own, as if trying to draw from some inner strength to push back. But the metaphorical wall he was acting like was collapsing, and Cinder was pressing the advantage even further. He roared defiantly, the sound almost drowned out by the cheering from the bleachers.

Finally, with a solid push, Cinder pushed forwards, Jacob's legs buckling in reply. Jacob spun to the left, swinging into her, the schwing of Cadia's teeth coming out just audible over the crowd. She saw the teeth come down into Cinder's side, a roar like an animal calling them to action. Metal teeth bounced off of Cinder's Aura, Jacob leaning into the swing and pushing back into Cinder's side, the two falling as Jacob's push became a tackle.

Jacob had no time or way to block as one of Cinder's blades caught him across the face with a massive swing, one that would have gouged his eye out and left a huge scar across his face had his Aura not taken the brunt of it. Jacob cried out as he recoiled back, the pain-absorption of his Aura starting to fail as it dipped to 14%.

"You've got her, man," Jaune called out, "you can do it!"

"Finish her," Nora roared with a wide and vicious smile.

"Call it quits, you idiot," Weiss cried out, "Your Aura is too low!"

"Come on," Pyrrha heard one of Cinder's teammates—Emerald if she remembered right—mutter a few seats off to the side. "He's nothing to you..."

Jacob recovered from his reel quick, standing up and bringing Cadia up and over to slash down on Cinder. She brought her swords up as she laid on her side, blocking Cadia's blow with a cross of the two blades. Sparks erupted over the two of them as chain-teeth and swords ground against one another, the angry roar of Cadia's engine melding with the grinding shriek of metal scraping metal. The shoving match began anew, but now Jacob straddled Cinder, giving him the raw advantage of gravity and momentum. Cinder was pinned to the ground, her swords holding back as much as she possibly could, the two now fully locked in stalemate of an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object.

They stayed like this, one or the other weakening slightly with each second.

Finally, Cinder seemed to have enough, if the look on her face was any indicator. The fire in her eyes returned, a snarl on her face in tandem.

But rather than strike low like Pyrrha expected her to in that situation, she let a blade break loose, letting her other sword take the chainsword's bite. It failed without a second's hesitation, the teeth ripping at her Aura, only dropping it a paltry sum.

The other sword, however, struck true at its intended target, aiming to finish this fight once and for all; Jacob's chest.

With her stab at his chest, Jacob recoiled back as his Aura took the impact, reeling on his heels as the pain failed to be stopped by his Aura, despite the lack of damage. Cinder's legs and arms were free, and she put them to use, vaulting upwards and into Jacob's stomach. Cadia flew free of his grip as he fell backwards like a fallen tree, Cinder rising to stand over him.

The impact was a potent one, his body making a sizeable thud in reply. Over him, Cinder stood tall and proud, walking around and resting her foot on his chest. She drew one of her swords and brought it to his neck, Pyrrha noticing at a distance it seemed to be... glowing slightly red?

"Surrender," she asked, looking down at him with a coy smile. Her free hand pointed up to the scoreboard; 11% to her 76%.

Jacob seemed to think at first wanting to keep going, but his situation was completely against his favor. It was another second or two before his head finally went limp and thunked against the floor. "I concede," he said aloud, tapping the floor with a free hand twice.

BZRRRT!

"And that's the match," Professor Goodwitch said aloud. "The winner is Ms. Cinder Fall!"

There were cheers and claps around the bleachers, the student body showering Cinder with appraisal. She took a stage bow for them, her smile bright and calm, as if the outcome had never been in doubt.

Pyrrha couldn't pretend that she didn't want to applaud Cinder's performance; for as tense a match as it was, it was still rather entertaining. Jacob had done his best, but with a power comparison like theirs, there was no doubt that he would have needed to completely take her by surprise to win, and even then, it would be a monumental feat of stratagem and skill to best her fighting.

Speaking of Jacob, Cinder had just removed her boot from his chest and had pulled the blade a few inches back, just enough that Jacob could crawl away and catch his breath. Instead, he laid on the ground in the same spot, panting heavily and resting a hand over his heart. His eyes were shut in an angry squint, not even attempting to open to stare up at Cinder.

Pyrrha couldn't help but feel a bit downtrodden for him at a defeat like that. About then, she noticed her godfather-dash-uncle turn and look at another person who had joined him. It was Professor Cain, and both were wearing concerned looks as they looked down and surveyed the auditorium stage, discussing between themselves. Pyrrha couldn't help but wonder what it was they were talking about.

"That was a good fight, both of you," Professor Goodwitch said as she walked up onto stage, "and both of you will do you schools proud at the Festival. Mr. Muller, you might want to double down on your training before the Tournament arrives, just as a suggestion; otherwise, you did excellently in comparison to previous battles."

"Solid copy, Glynda," Jacob replied though his heavy panting.

Glynda turned to look at Cinder as both Pyrrha and Yang began to leave the bleachers, heading down the stairwell to help pick Jacob up off the ground. "And you, Ms. Fall," Pyrrha heard the Professor say, "are a remarkable fighter. I'd dare say that you would even give Ms. Nikos a run for her money in a one-on-one."

"Oh my," Cinder said with a tone that Pyrrha thought almost too sweet to be sincere, "I've gotten many a glowing review of my performance before, but I doubt I would fare well against Ms. Nikos."

Pyrrha felt that urge to slink away out of the new growing limelight, but a need to help Jacob up overrode that urge. Overhead, the bell for class to end rang out, and the auditorium began to empty. She walked closer with Jaune and Nora by her side, replying, "Nonsense, Ms. Fall—or Cinder if you prefer. Fighting you would be an absolute treat! If not before, then certainly during the Vytal Tournament."

Cinder cupped her cheek like a schoolgirl and chuckled, a light sound that even Pyrrha couldn't deny put her at some manner of ease. "Please, Ms. Nikos. Just call me Cinder." She offered a dainty but genuine handshake to Pyrrha.

Pyrrha smiled brightly at Cinder, feeling a kinship to her. She seemed a natural under the spotlight, but that seemed to creep behind a mask of humility to those she saw as her superiors. She offered a hand back as Yang and Ruby helped Jacob up to his feet behind Cinder.

"Please, Cinder," she said, "Ms. Nikos is my mother. just call me Pyrrha."

---

"He never should have taken her head on."

"Weiss—"

"I'm serious! He struggles against anyone outside of Jaune's level of combat skill, and he decides to take on a homeschooler of all people? What was he thinking!?"

"How was he supposed to know that she was that good?"

"Can both of your please focus on what's important?"

Yang and Weiss turned around in unison. It was Yang who said something. "What's with you, Blake?"

"A stupid spar is the least of our problems at the moment," she said back to Yang, her eyes glaring daggers, only for those daggers to be weighed down by the bags under her eyes.

Yang huffed as she felt her temper start to simmer. "Blake," she said, "the least you could have done was cheer him on."

Blake only seemed to glower at her partner. Yang didn't know whether to be angry or crestfallen by the Faunus girl's behavior as of the last few days; she had been obsessive about the White Fang and Torchwick before, but now... now it was starting to get disruptive.

In the sunlight of the early afternoon, the hallways of Beacon Academy were still a hodge-podge of grey concrete walls amidst painted white walls, each color matched to the columns that held the ceiling aloft. Now, after a hardy lunch, the girls of Team RWBY were now on their way to their History class with Professor Oobleck, all of them carrying their finished essays on the Themyscan Wars of Secession. It had taken them a while to research it all—not including the time they took to ask Pyrrha personally how her home region was affected by its aftershocks, much to Pyrrha's delight.

"Blake," Ruby said over Yang's shoulder, "You need to relax a bit. This Torchwick stuff if going to wear you out."

Blake seemed to only bristle more at the sentiment. "I'll be fine once we figure out how to stop Torchwick. The White Fang... I don't know, but I can't dwell on that just yet."

"You're going to work yourself into the ground if you keep acting like this, Blake," Weiss replied. "Torchwick can wait."

"But he can't wait! I would almost say that the White Fang can't wait either!"

Yang felt herself recoil at the sudden outburst from her teammate. She knew that Blake had been anxious about the Fang and Torchwick before, but this... this was almost paranoia, and it was getting worrying.

Without another word, they continued walking, not a word shared between them as they traversed the hallways towards Oobleck's class. Yang found herself flanked by a nervous and worried Weiss and Ruby. Blake walked several feet out from them, her mind lost in thought by all accounts. Yang still saw the bags under her eyes from that far out, and she couldn't pretend that Blake's hair seemed a bit messier than usual; sure, it wasn't her gorgeous lion's mane, but it was starting to look slightly frazzled by comparison to her normally elegant and straightened locks.

Yang felt a burning urge to say something, but the word caught in her throat. As students milled about them, the three of them continued maneuvering around the other small groups and teams that they shared the hallway with. Blake, however, bobbed in and out with ease, as if being able to maneuver like this was second nature to her.

As they closed in on the class, the crowds seem to increase, and the din of voices seemed to increase. It was as though there was a massive snag in the foot traffic of the hallway, and it was enough that even Blake was starting to slow down.

"What's with all this foot traffic," Weiss called out, her and Ruby forced to hug close to Yang's sides, much to Yang's ire.

"I don't know," Ruby replied, "I can't see over the crowds."

Yang was now really feeling the ire build. "Hang on," she said, "I'll see what's going on." With that, she began pushing forwards into the crowds ahead of them, leaving her teammates behind to wait a safe distance from the crowds. With each step, she had to force herself farther ahead, a 'sorry' or 'beg pardon' or a 'heads up' leaving her mouth with tone that betrayed her annoyance.

She could recognize where the snag was coming from as she closed in on the intersection of the hallways; it was coming from Oobleck's classroom.

"Yang!"

The blonde bruiser's ears picked up her partner's voice. Her head turned on a swivel, scanning the crowd for a black bow or yellow eyes.

"Blake? Where are you?"

Something tapped her shoulder with some force, making her jump a bit. Anyone in the immediate vicinity would have felt a small jump in the ambient temperature as she jumped.

Yang turned with a curled fist at her side, wondering who was the wise guy to scare her like that. She was met with black hair, yellow eyes, and a little bow.

"Okay," Yang said with an annoyed tone as she took a breath, "how many times have I warned you about spooking me?"

Blake seemed to ignore the comment. "What's going on?"

"That's what I'm trying to get to the bottom of!"

She turned and began to surge forwards again, her temper rising again as she continued to push forwards. The crowds seemed to go from sharing a look of confusion on their faces to looks of concern. Now Yang was the one wearing her confusion on her face as she cocked her brow.

Finally, she rounded the corner to the sight of Professor Peach standing outside the door to Oobleck's class, blocking students from entering. Her long, blonde hair was a bit unkempt, not unlike Blake's, and her pink dress looked a bit distressed; she looked like she had been in a seriously stressful situation. Her arms were out, inciting the students to keep their distance. "Please, please," she said, "I'm sorry, but class is delayed for a bit, if not cancelled.

Yang turned back to meet the gaze of Blake, both of them confused by the sight before them.

Somebody's got to ask what's going on.

With that, Yang pushed forwards, reaching out to try to get Professor Peach's attention. "Professor," she called out. 'Professor!"

Her voice was drowned out by the rest of the din of confusion from her fellow students. Peach made no move to answer her, her attention taken up.

Yang grimaced. She pushed forwards further. "Professor Peach!"

The professor's hair seemed to move before her head did, her aqua eyes meeting Yang's violet eyes.

Yang seized the opportunity. "Professor," she asked over the din, "What's going on? Where's Oobleck?"

Peach visibly grimaced as she heard Yang's question. "Professor Oobleck has... been called up by Professor Ozpin to discuss... please, keep back! Sorry," she said as she juggled answering Yang's question. "Oobleck has been called up by Professor Ozpin to discuss the matter of your first missions; Ozpin has some concerns in regards to... your safety, knowing what's happened."

Yang swallowed hard as she retained the professor's answer. She didn't need further explanation as to 'what's happened' to know what Peach meant.

"Class is either delayed until he's back or is canceled for the day," the professor replied. "I'm sorry, Yang."

Yang only nodded. "I'll let the others know as I head back," she called out, "that might thin the herd."

"Thank you," Peach said, a tone of tire in her voice. "crowd control is a lot harder than it sounds like."

Yang nodded again and turned around, beginning to duck and weave back through the crowds back to Blake. Behind her, the frazzled professor continued her task of crowd control against the concerned student body amassed before her.

Yang's mind, however, was occupied on the idea that they may very well lose the chance at their first mission. She remembered Summer and Tai had both spoken greatly about their first mission, that it was almost a rite of passage for any and all Huntsmen. To have it delayed was a worrying prospect, and Yang couldn't deny that this was something she had been looking forwards to even more than the dance. Her first time in the field, actually ragging on real Grimm, or maybe dealing with crooks in the center of the city, or a counter offensive against bandits on one of the outlying towns. This was the first big test of her mettle under the eye of the school; now they could see her and her team for their real skill.

Now, it could very well be delayed for weeks, months, perhaps even delayed until next semester.

After a few minutes, the surge of people began heading in reverse as she informed more and more people, making her return to Blake easier. She said nothing, only pointing back in the direction of Weiss and Ruby. Blake nodded in agreement, the two of them forcing their way through on the way back to the rest of them.

"What's happening," Blake asked over the din, her voice close to Yang's ear if her volume and tone were any indicator. Yang glanced back to confirm that she was less than a foot behind her, her eyes boring into Yang.

"Oobleck's at a meeting with Ozpin," Yang replied, her brow now furrowed. "He's cancelled class."

Blake made no comment, though a levity seemed to grow across her face.

Yang made no comment, only turning to look for Weiss and Ruby.

A few minutes later, they finally found the two, still hanging out against the door of another classroom. Ruby was twiddling her thumbs as she sat on the floor, while Weiss stood at attention, her arms crossed in mild annoyance.

"Well," Weiss asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice as she walked up to them. "What's going on up there?"

"Looks like class is cancelled for today," Yang replied. "Oobleck got called up to Ozpin's office. They... they might be talking about delaying the first missions."

At that, Ruby sprang to her feet like a coiled spring, crying out, "Wait, what!?"

"They can't seriously do that," Weiss cried out.

"Not like I like the idea any more than you do," Yang replied with a sigh.

It was Ruby who immediately jumped in. "Well, look on the bright side," she said, "We have a free period at the end of classes for the day! We've got an early start to our evening!"

Yang couldn't deny that Ruby was right, in her usual way of looking at the basics. "That's true," she said, offering a small smile. "We've got the afternoon to finish up that other paper for Port, and then we can just relax for the rest of the afternoon."

Weiss looked at her with a look of befuddlement. "Who are you and what have you done with Yang Xiao Long? When have you been up to getting an essay done before the last minute?"

Yang shrugged. "I just thought maybe I'd give it a go this time around. Maybe things won't feel like a scramble anymore?"

"Your brain is what's scrambled, Yang."

Yang couldn't stop the laugh that rose from her belly and forced her to double over, Ruby joining in not a moment later.

But as she looked up, Blake had disappeared. The laugh died as quickly as it had arrived. "Blake?"

Weiss and Ruby looked up too, now confused as well. "Where'd she go," Ruby asked.

They looked up the hallway towards the dispersing crowd, wondering if she headed off to study alone or read alone. Or maybe brood alone, Yang thought slightly bitterly.

About then, there was a small, dull sound, not unlike something hitting the ground. Another one, not even a half second later, and another, and another. It had started out a low beat, but Yang could hear the change in strength. To top it off, there was the tiniest quake in the ground with each tie the sound went off. It was not unlike a machine dremel hammering metal into shape, as far as Yang was concerned.

Several students rushed past the trio, tripping over themselves as if what they were headed to was beyond important. Rather than continue thundering down the hallway, though, they made a hard turn into one of the doorways leading outside of the building and vanished through it without a second's hesitation.

"What's that all about," Weiss asked.

"I don't know," Yang said as she started walking after them, "Maybe that's where Blake is?"

She didn't stop to hear either of them contradict that notion, only hearing their footfalls behind her. As she closed in on the doorway, the thundering sound increased in strength, the earth beneath her feet now shaking just enough to be openly noticeable.

Yang reached the door as her mind started pondering what was going on, throwing them open as the early afternoon sun slammed into her eyes. She squinted them shut, only for her ears to be met with the sound, now magnified and clear as day.

It sounded like marching feet.

Ruby and Weiss gasped in awe. Yang forced her eyes open. The sight she saw almost forced them even farther open.

Hundreds of Atlesian robots marched in unison through the central courtyard of Beacon, their boots striking the concrete and tiled earth with such precision that it was less a couple hundred boots and more akin to one truly gigantic boot. Beside them marched Atlesian military personnel, several squads of them walking in tandem with the robots, a relaxation to their gait. Flanking them still were several Huntsmen and Huntresses, each of them armored and armed to the teeth, an air of... Yang wanted to say "well-earned arrogance" but that gave them too much credit. All of them seemed to bear some manner of badge that announced their loyalty to the Council of Atlas, the most common seeming to be a badge over the right side of their chest, if not pendants or even a tattoo on one's arm.

The three members of Team RWBY stood in silence as they watched this military parade thunder through the center pathway through Beacon, headed into the city. Students from all of the Academies had gathered on their peripheries, some cheering with delight—obviously the Atlas Academy students—while most of the other looked on in various degrees of impress or worry. The state-sanctioned Huntsmen waved back at the crowds, placating both them and their own selves in the process, while the Knights and common Atlesian soldiery marched on in silence.

But the footfalls kept getting stronger, and they weren't coming from the group that had already passed them.

Yang couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her mouth as two—Oh my god, two of them—Atlesian Paladins rounded the CCT Towers on their parade route, gleaming the same bright white they had seen weeks ago during their fight with Torchwick, albeit not dirtied with the scratches, dings and the mark of the White Fang hastily scrawled across it.

"There's more of them!?" Ruby growled angrily before she began pouting. "As if one wasn't scary enough..."

Weiss and Yang said nothing in response, only glancing at one another. Yang was greeted with a worried look on Weiss' face, though she couldn't deny that past that worry there was... hope? What was that doing there?

"Weiss," she asked, "What's up?"

"Oh," Weiss replied, "It's... uh, it's nothing to be worried about, I was just wondering if... one of my siblings was here."

Yang blinked surprise. Seriously?

There was a tap on her should and her train of thought was derailed before she could even think up the next sentence. She turned and saw Ruby staring off into the group of students a bit to their left.

A black bow stood out amidst the crowd.

Yang was moving in that direction before she had even thought through what she was doing. She reached into the group and tried to squeeze in, calling out, "'Scuse me, need to get through."

The second she sounded off, Blake turned to look at Yang. Where Yang had seen concern in Weiss' eyes, Blake seemed internally petrified and almost scornful, her eyes betraying her stoic face. This was something that must have struck home, though why was lost on Yang.

"You okay," Yang only offered, putting a hand on Blake's shoulder.

Blake gave no reply. She only looked back at the parade, her arms tucked over her chest in thought.

As the drums of several hundred feet rattled on, the two partners stood in silence, letting the marching beat echo across the city and into their minds.

THUMP, THUMP,

THUMP, THUMP,

THUMP, THUMP,

THUMP, THUMP...

---

Tick. Tock.

Tick. Tock.

Tick. Tock.

Tick. Tock.

Jacob groaned as he looked up at the clock over the auditorium. 4:10 in the afternoon.

"Of all the idiotic, hair-brained tactics I've seen in my days, Mr. Muller, that was almost as high on the list as when I let Jurgen charge my Salamander Tank into a squad of Plague Marines on Triares Secundus. I'm actually quite impressed."

Jacob rubbed his aching chest as he sat amidst the bleachers—although, in hindsight, he really considered them damn near premium stadium seating with how they were designed. "I don't know whether to say 'thank you' or grumble like a scolded brat," he said, finishing with a barking laugh. His left pectoral answered his laughter with a tinge of an ache, forcing him to rest a hand on it.

"On the one hand," came the booming, calm voice of Captain Titus—or, rather, Professor Titus as he preferred—as he walked up to Jacob and sat down beside him, "I can understand wanting to get a better idea of the opponent you seek to combat against. On the other hand, you may have very well revealed us and our plans prematurely, as well as set her sights on you."

"Better that I fight her and get my ass kicked than Mercury and Pyrrha fight and they find out about her little combat secret," he said, only to realize what he had said and spin his head around, looking in all directions for any signs of someone listening in.

"Her Semblance usage," Titus said with a nod. "I see the reasoning behind such a plan, now, but that doesn't excuse that it was too risky. Besides, how likely it is that Cinder will wear something metallic during their battle, should that battle even occur, now."

"I aim to avoid that battle, Titus," Jacob groaned in annoyance. "But it doesn't hurt to play it safe should I fuck up and that fight happens anyhow."

"She still observed Pyrrha's fight against CRDL anyhow," Cain said matter-of-factly. "She does have eyes, you know."

Jacob felt an urge to retort, only to stop the words in cold turkey on his tongue. "Yeah, but still... I mean it's not like she actually got the chance to fight her... right? Watching and actually fighting aren't... the same." He ran the whole sentence through his head, only to bring his free hand up and introduce it to his face with a loud slap that echoed about the room. His face stung like Hell's teeth in reply, inciting a groan.

"God, why am I so fucking stupid," he grumbled from beneath his hand.

"On the contrary," Cain replied, pacing back and forth in front of Jacob and Titus, "It was a well thought out plan that may fall apart only because we can't know for certain what info Ms. Fall may have picked up today. At worst, she knows Pyrrha's fighting style at cursory glance; at best, she's been fooled and may very well be a bit spooked. We can use that to our advantage... in theory, at least."

"Cornered animals are the most frenzied kind, Commissar," Jacob replied, straightening his back and dropping his hand from the offending pectoral. "And while Cinder is starting to be backed into a corner right now, I sincerely doubt she's gonna stay there for long. At the same time, she's backed us up too; we have to play much safer now, or risk getting caught."

"Like you were by Logan and Anders?"

Jacob only shot Cain an unamused deadpan.

"Just saying."

"Right, well, the point is that we're both now standing on a razor's edge, but I honestly imagine we're the ones who are losing balance while on that metaphorical edge."

Cain hummed aloud as he began scratching his chin. "I still don't fully understand why we do not simply reveal her and force her on the retreat. The plan is halted, the city is saved, the people are saved, Pyrrha is saved, we go on with nothing else to be concerned about."

Jacob sighed, very aware of Ciaphas' thought process. "On the one hand, you're right, it wouldn't make sense for standard strategy; capitalize on our intelligence and strike out against her, stopping the Invasion of Vale and the general threat to begin with. But... the other hand is where my eye is focused, so to speak. What happens if Cinder and Salem are not as keen on abandoning their siege, and only bloat their forces more before they engage? What happens then if, say, in that battle Ruby is killed, as well as her team?"

Cain shook his head. "Ms. Rose is a great fighter," he said in response. "she and her team would—"

Jacob hopped to his feet despite the protests of his body. "Would what, Ciaphas—sorry, Professor Cain—what would they do? We don't know what would happen under such a sudden deviance in the timeline. Perhaps Atlas and Vale and the Huntsman Corps could shore up enough defenses to hold back the Grimm, White Fang, and any of Salem's other allies... or maybe it will be paltry and everyone in the city—man, woman, child, Huntsman, Huntress, soldier, civilian, Silver Eyed Warrior or Champion Fighter of Mistral—will die and the Grimm will hold the city, destroy it, and move on to the next city unchallenged."

Jacob stood silent for a minute, watching their reactions. Neither Imperial gave anything away save for a glance to one another, apprehensive but seemingly understanding.

"I'm trying to take into consideration what I know thus far," he continued. "And I won't pretend that—no disrespect—the appearance of the men and women of the God-Emperor's flock doesn't throw a monkey wrench nerve-rackingly close to being a spanner in the works. But..." he struggled to get out what he wanted to say, his tongue now tying itself as he tried to get his thought across best. "But I have to at the very least go with the path that is most secured right now; if I follow canon and only perform small tweaks here and there, hopefully it will correct some up until the time is right for me to put my main goal front and center. I follow canon, I know what people will do; I follow canon, I know where I need to be to change things. I follow canon up until it's just right, and Pyrrha and Penny—hell, one can even dream that maybe I can body-block Amber—will live past what Miles Luna, Kerry Shawcross and Monty Oum declared to be her death-day."

They watched him closely as he began to realize he had gone off on another tirade again. He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry," he said dejectedly, "you guys shouldn't have to deal with my ramblings."

"No," Titus said standing up and placing a hand on Jacob's shoulder, "I get it. It's a safe, predictable path to traverse. You find comfort in it, know what will come to be."

Jacob let silence hold for a few seconds before he dropped his hand. "Yeah," he said quietly, "I've always struggled with winging it."

"And yet you winged that idea to engage Cinder in a duel."

"That's not the same."

"Not entirely, perhaps. But by comparison, it's something."

Jacob grimaced in response. "Comparison to who?"

"The person you were reminding me of from my days as a Captain," Titus replied. "Someone that you should have seen if that video game followed my escapades on Graia."

Jacob looked over at the Ultramarine with a disgusted look. "Really? Im really sounding like Leandros?"

"Take that as both a commendation and a condemnation in unison, Mr. Muller," Titus said, his grip tightening slightly. "Leandros may have been brash and too comfortable within the confines of what he knew, but he was of stout heart and convictions."

Jacob watched the Ultramarine Captain, unsure of what to say. At first, confusion plagued him; when the Space Marine game ended and Titus had been taken into Inquisition custody, he had dropped a burn on Leandros so passively vicious that Jacob thought even Roboute Guilliman had winced at it while he was still in stasis. "Didn't you lambast him about failing to live up to the Ultramarine standard by failing to see the Codex as something more than a rulebook?"

Titus' eyes seemed distant, as if caught up in a memory. "That I did," he said quietly. "Indeed, that I did."

Jacob couldn't really tell, but by tone alone he felt as though he had struck a nerve. He shuffled uncomfortably, no speech coming from any of them.

"Right," Cain finally said as he twiddled his thumbs, "we do ourselves no favors by sitting around and being regretful of the past. I've done that far too much for my taste, anyhow."

Titus blinked, the focus returning to his eyes. "Right. Now is not the time for the past."

Jacob let out a tiny scoff. "Ironic considering that I'm trying to rectify something sorta-kinda past tense."

"For you, perhaps," Titus corrected, "but future tense for us, and for you right now as well."

"Right," Jacob said, "Time-space continuum. Under the terms of Doctor Who, I should have caused a paradox the second I put my plan into action."

"Doctor Who?"

Jacob turned to answer Cain's question, only for the answer to die in his throat. "N-nevermind. Not important. What is important is our next step."

"Indeed," Titus replied. "But, while there is our next step in regards to the plan, there's one other thing to consider; you're still horribly-trained for your weapon. What fortune, then, that it's Tuesday night, and you had a lesson in chainswordsmanship with Ciaphas."

Jacob nodded. "As Tzeentch would say, all according to plan."

Titus and Cain both winced at the mention of the Chaos God, but were quick to agree. "Somehow, I doubt that was planned out," Cain replied, "but yes, quite timely. Now, let's get your Aura back to something at least mildly satisfactory in strength."

Cain reached out and grabbled Jacob's hand, reinvigorating Jacob's with a bit of his own. Once again, Jacob felt a difference in Cain's by comparison to both Ren and Pyrrha's Auras, the images coming crystal clear in his mind. Cold, crisp snowfalls contrasted by the smell of hot tea and a pungent smell beside it that was both appalling yet familiar. A surge of fearlessness and a desire to leave that behind for greener pastures. And then, a warm bed and soft blankets, the smell of peaches, and an image; bright blue eyes and a shade of blonde hair that does and yet doesn't exist...

Jacob didn't need to ask who that image was supposed to be. If what the books said were any indicator, Inquisitor Amberley Vail really was quite a person to remember. Meanwhile, his body began to feel reinvigorated again, his Aura spiking ferociously.

"I really need to get better at Aura stamina," Jacob sighed in annoyance.

"That will come in time," Cain replied. "There we are, we should be on equal terms, or at least as equal as our Auras can be for the moment."

"Alright, then," Jacob said with a nod. "So... how does a commissar fight with a chainsword?"

The next sound out of Cain's mouth was a bemused grunt, a sound that Jacob couldn't help but cock and eyebrow at. "Truth be told," he said to Jacob, "We need to get a few things out of the way, first. Obviously the most important piece of information is this; fighting with a chainsword is a bit different from fighting with a standard sword, obviously. You can't really jab with it, nor can you attack get a basic cut into small crooks and nannies in a person's armor. You can try, but at best they need to have it seriously open to your attack for you to get a good cleave in."

Jacob nodded. "I expected a problem like that. Really, my best bet is to treat it not unlike an axe, right?"

Cain smiled at that. "Close," he said, pointing a finger in acknowledgement, "but there's a bit more finesse behind it than you might expect... and yet not. It's hard to explain, actually, to those not familiar with seeing it."

Jacob was already a mental step ahead of him. "It depends on who's using it, right? A normal human mostly has to be fine-tuned and focused when using it, and then by contrast a Space Marine generally has the focus and control down to a science and goes and uses it in ways to let the teeth dig in, right?"

"Close, but no," Titus said. "Space Marines need some degree of finesse in using ours as well, though I do confess it's not a lot of it. However, that doesn't matter in regards to your training; last I checked, you are not an Adept in training."

Jacob returned Titus' bemused smirk with a sarcastic laugh. "Fair enough. So, what's lesson number one, gents?"

The two looked at one another before turning their gazes back on him. In unison, a single world left their mouths:

"Control."

Jacob blinked, his face concealing his confusion. "Huh?"

"Control is the greatest part of working with a chainsword," Titus said. "Without it, the weapon will go out of control and you will either go along for the ride or lose the weapon outright."

Jacob hummed and hawed with his words as he tried to come up with a sentence that wouldn't sound assanine. "Captain," he began after a good, long minute, "with all due respect, I have some degree of control over my blade by now. It hasn't exactly left my hand in... almost... 10 days of training and actual combat."

"Maybe," Cain replied, "but there's more to control than just holding onto the blade. Chainswords are by their nature not static and have their own ebb and flow in battle, just as axes and hammers do by comparison to normal swords."

Jacob had presumed something like that from day one, but how that was might as well have been with Leman Russ in the Warp with how unknown it was to him. "So, in that case," he said, clasping his hands nervously and fighting an urge to fidget with a tag or something, "What kind of flow are we talking here?"

Cain said nothing, instead walking around Jacob towards the bleachers. Down on the ground beneath the edge of the bleachers' wall was a case, probably plastic or metal as far as Jacob could tell, and it was a sizeable case at that. Cain kneeled down and undid the clasps on the case, an audible pop resonating from each clasp opened. He flipped open the case and reached in, Jacob unable to see what exactly it was.

When Cain turned around, Jacob felt his stomach clench up as a chainsword entered his line of sight, encased in gold, silver and crimson red and etched elaborately.

"I'll show you how it's done," Cain said, removing his Atlesian officer coat. "Pick up Cadia, Mr. Muller, it's time for lesson number one."

Jacob swallowed hard as he remembered back to Traitor's Hand and a myriad of other quotes from people about Cain's chainswordsmanship. This was going to make him feel very inadequate.

The two made their way to the stage and took spots about 15 feet from one another. It was small, but then again this was a simple practice fight. Jacob tensed up but didn't bring Cadia up to his chest, instead keeping it at his side. Cain, by contrast, seemed limber and loose, albeit perhaps a bit rusty as he seemed to gather his bearings. Overhead, the lights remained on rather than dimming to stadium level, and the ring didn't raise those two or so feet it usually did.

"Take a swing," Cain said.

The first word to enter Jacob's mind was the simple word 'trap'. Really, that was what he said was; a training exercise no different from a drill sergeant kicking a recruit's ass to breaking him down to basics... right?

"Come on," Cain said patiently, "Show me what you've got. Take a swing."

Jacob licked his lips and feathered the engine, Cadia purring in response. He stepped forwards hesitantly once, then twice, then a third one.

Cain rolled his eyes. "What, you stare down a Fall Maiden and now you're getting cold feet? Come on, man, show me that Terran fury!"

Jacob didn't hesitate now. He took a bolting step forwards as he gunned the engine, swinging hesitantly for Cain's chest.

Ciaphas didn't hesitate to swing, plunging his sword across his torso and deflecting Jacob's swing. Jacob felt the connection throw his step off, making him stumble aside and almost hit the ground. Cain made no return attack, dodging out of the way instead with a spin.

Jacob hit the ground on a knee, whipping about less than a second later to leap up and into Cain. He brought the chainsword around for another attack, but a backhanded slash from Cain stopped the blade in its tracks. Jacob reeled backwards, stopping himself as he assessed is situation. "Let me guess," he began, "'Stop trying to hit me and hit me'?"

"I was actually going to say 'good effort', but that too."

Jacob lunged again, going low, only to scramble out of the way as Ciaphas brought the sword down over his head. He couldn't clear and felt just how chainsword teeth felt against Aura; a sharp streak of pain that followed the blade's path up the back of his head. He couldn't help but let out a yelp of surprise and pain.

"You went Khornate there, Mr. Muller," Cain said overhead. "You bit off more than you could chew and you kept getting too aggressive."

Jacob couldn't see, but he was not surprised when he felt something metal tap his shoulder. He yanked his head up off the ground and was met with the teeth of Cain's chainsword, glaring coyly at him in the auditorium light.

"Balance is the key for a chainsword," Cain said. "Powerful strikes are good, yes, but you cannot throw yourself into an attack wildly. While Huntsmen fighting styles are indeed more aggressive, it suits you better to take a more cautious aggression to your every attack."

"Cautious aggression," Jacob said in confusion. "We talking about dodging about and striking at openings or something?"

"Not even close," Cain said as he eased his grip and the teeth retreated away from Jacob's face. Jacob looked forwards at Cain's legs, wondering if he could wheel about and kick them out if they were still sparring. "That's a good thing to keep in mind," Cain said, "considering that you don't really seem to have the strength."

"Oh, come on," Jacob replied, "I've got a lot more upper body strength since I left from home. I struggled to barely lift sixty pounds in total, now I can at least get forty or fifty with not nearly as much difficulty."

"Raw strength does great for a chainsword," Cain replied, "but it's the strength of your grip and your control over the blade that means a lot. When you fought Cinder, I noticed that you used only one arm for almost every attack outside of when you were straddling her. Then you used two hands, but that was when you had the advantage that she was working against gravity. With both of you standing, she could have easily gotten the better of you even if you locked your wrists up."

"So, then I need to lock my wrist?"

Cain shook his head. "That would only make things worse as you wrench your arm if they deflect the attack. Keep it loose, but keep it in control, that's what I'm trying to say."

Jacob rattled that about in his head as he returned to his feet. Loose but in control... how the blood-soaked, Protestant Hell... He shook his head as he tried to make sense of the sentence.

His confusion was visible enough that Cain grimaced, not in annoyance but more in expectancy. "The massive, blade-levered cleaves should only be when their guard is down," he said patiently. "You need to be limber in your arm and focus on using the strength in your shoulder to make that opening in the meantime."

Now it was starting to click. "Open with small slashes and jabs," he deduced, "and keep on the backburner to throw them off. Then, when the opening appears, let slip the blade into their side, or wherever."

Titus laughed from the seats up above. "Now you're getting it!"

Jacob nodded. "But that's not all, is it?"

Cain smirked. "One step at a time, Jacob. Come, let's try getting that mindset down, shall we?"

Jacob nodded, letting out a deep breath as he spun Cadia, revving her engine cautiously. This time, he took cautious steps towards Cain, feathering the chainsword's trigger delicately, getting a light purr in response. Cain, by contrast, stood almost as a monolith, his finger on the trigger but the engine making no sound.

Jacob stepped in closer, and Cain raised his blade, the engine growling to life. It was almost as if they were to duel with rapiers with how they were at this point.

Ciaphas stepped forwards and swung to the side, a small gesture that still translated into a very wide strike. Jacob braced his shoulder and blocked the swing, his chainsword taking the brunt of the swing. Without a second's hesitation, he pushed back, but Cain had a lot more arm strength than he did, and the blade only seemed to fall back a few inches. In the back of his mind, Jacob thought up a quick movement, instead rolling beneath the blade and swiping into his side. Cain had no time to block, but he did make two steps back.

Cain smiled. "Not the lesson we were going for," he commented, "but that was clever. Well done, Jacob."

Jacob let his guard drop as he let out an embarrassed wince. "Sorry," he said, "force of habit."

"No, no, don't be sorry," he replied. "That was actually a good thing to try and do. If there was one thing that Titus said you do well, it's that you use your stature to your advantage."

"Being short has its benefits as well as its setbacks," Jacob replied. "But still, back to strength."

Cain nodded. He brought his chainsword up again, ready to riposte another attack. Jacob approached again, this time less hesitant than before. He batted Cain's blade aside, jabbing inwards, only to be threatened with a slice at his head. He ducked back as Cain pushed in with a counterattack, swiping for his chest in a crucifix path. Jacob couldn't duck back, so instead he brought Cadia up, swinging with his shoulder to block the attack.

Sadly, it didn't do nearly as well as it should have. Cain's chainsword connected with Cadia, but the inertia the former commissar connected with was enough to force his arm to buckle, Cain's swing stopping in the patch of Aura over Jacob's arm. Jacob wheeled on his feet and almost tumbled over, clutching his arm as it rang out with pain.

Cain hummed in thought. "Normally, that would have been fairly blockable," he said, scratching his side burns. "Perhaps... Hmm, I'm really at a loss, actually."

"Maybe you're stronger than you think?"

Cain shook his head. "I'm not that much stronger than most," he replied. "Then again, you are kind of... well..."

Jacob nodded. "Yeah, that would explain it a lot," he said. "All my strength's in my shoulders and back, not my arm proper."

"And yet you got several good blows in, including that one at the restaurant."

"Does that really count, though? She didn't have an Aura."

"Counts to me," Cain said. "Not every fight is going to be squeaky clean and bloodless."

"Yeah, well, obviously," Jacob replied, "but outside of Grimm, I doubt most of our opponents are gonna be Aura-less."

Cain stepped forwards, revving his chainsword. "Then let's keep at it so you can go up against someone with Aura. Now, land a blow on me and don't get hit in turn."

So, it began. And they fought.

"Again."

And they fought.

"Again."

And they fought.

"Again."

And he kept falling ass-first onto the auditorium, Cain knocking him over with a good swing that hardly seemed to nick him, but still sent him back a few steps, if not on his ass.

All the while, Jacob's mind kept growling at his failure, some part of him losing heart quickly. Eventually, he looked up at the clock. 4:47 now. He had been getting his ass kicked for some twenty minutes now.

Jacob's body was aching from all of the strikes on his body, but the worst feeling was the exhaustion in his system. His brow was drenched in sweat, and his breathing was getting a bit laborious despite his Aura enhanced body. At this point, he would have normally tapped out by now.

Cain was also looking tired, but Jacob had yet to land a good strike on him. Sure a few nicks here or there, but there was a damned good reason Ciaphas Cain was named the greatest chainswordsman in the Commissariat, if not the entire Imperium. He was fast and strong, not necessarily nimble but his every strike was controlled and powerful in its own right, but never did he strike with the same intent that Jacob had with his strikes. It was as if he was corralling Jacob into a kill box with each swing, only to follow up with another that would knock him off his feet.

Jacob slowly stood up, groaning in aggravation and pain.

Cain nodded. "You have the heart of a Guardsman, or better yet an Imperial Fist," he said. "Most would give up by now."

Jacob nodded, shaking his head like a dog's. "If it's to save Pyrrha... I can do this all day." With that, he spun Cadia again, making the Obi-Wan opening pose again.

Cain smirked. "That's a new pose. Let's see if it works." With that, he lunged forwards, a horizontal slash in the works.

Jacob grimaced as he spun Cadia and countered with a spinning downwards slice, catching Cain's blade in the teeth of Cadia and sending it down to the ground. Cain tried to throw an elbow into Jacob's face, only for Jacob to pull back and spin to slice into his side, only for Cain to swipe up and knock it out of the way. Jacob was pulled along for the ride as Cain jabbed forwards, only for Jacob to fall towards and to the side, swinging to hit. This time, Cain didn't get his blade up in time as Cadia caught him in his tricep.

He felt a connection, and it was solid. Cain roared in surprise, wheeling back at the attack making impact.

The two sat in silence for a second, the air tense. Then, Cain smiled slightly. "Well done, Jacob. The first good strike on me in a spar in a while."

Jacob, however, was racing and roaring with surprise. I did it, he thought in exuberance. I got a hit on Ciaphas Cain with a chainsword. I hit Ciaphas Cain with a chainsword!

He stumbled off his feet, landing on his ass with an 'oof' before breaking out in a small laugh. "I can't believe I just did that. Then again, we're both pretty damn tired by now."

Cain laughed. "If you're tired by a half hour of combat, then I have some very bad news for you."

Jacob's smile dropped off. "Don't remind me. I doubt it's gonna be a one-and-done fight anyhow."

Cain hummed in agreement "Battle proper is not something that is done in a single quick flurry of battle. Sure, the peaks are fast and energetic, but a battle usually lasts for hours if not days on end."

"Terra had its fair share of wars and battles long before The Emperor stepped into the spotlight," Jacob replied back. "Waterloo, Thermopylae, Bull Run, The Somme, Iwo Jima, Hastings, the list goes on and on for—at least from what I was able to research—around 3000 years give or take a century."

Titus walked up to them from the bleachers, a curious look in his eyes. "With names like that," he replied, "I suddenly wonder how much of our cultures were inspired by your time's cultures."

"Past and ancient cultures alike, as well as fictional" Jacob said. "Each world in the Imperium is either some way a bit of a homogenous distillation or some breed of hybrid. Macragge is usually depicted as the Roman Empire in Space, Cadia is is the movie Starship Troopers but fighting demons rather than bugs, the White Scars homeworld of Chogoris are the Mongolian steppes of Genghis Khan. Only one we haven't actually seen as a world is Feudal Japan with its samurai and bushido and pagoda designs. Well, either them or something Mesoamerican despite the Crimson Fists hitting the Latino bell pretty solidly."

"Actually," Titus replied, "There is that one Chapter that fits that first description, the Emperor's Shadows Chapter from the Omotagari System in Segmentum Tempestus."

"Funny," Cain said afterwards, Jacob spotting him hooking his blade to his belt, "I was just thinking of them when I remembered Jurgen and I's encounter with them about 40 years before Abaddon's Black Crusade hit."

Titus' brow furrowed. "I don't think I've ever encountered them, but the Ultramarines had a few encounters. But I don't think I've ever heard this story before."

Cain turned to look at Jacob with a curious look in his eye. "By chance," he asked, "did they ever write anything about that?"

Jacob looked back in his memory for all the titles he knew from Ciaphas Cain's novel series. After about two seconds, Jacob shrugged and replied," not a clue, honestly. You've got a lot of books about you, but the ones I know do exist only have one Space Marine Chapter that you've encountered, and they're the... Oh Jesus, what were they called again... Revilers? Redemptors? Re-something, re-something, but what—"

"Oh," Cain said with a snap of his fingers. "the Reclaimers! One of the few Iron Hands successors out there, if I understand. So, if that's the only one that's been in a book, then you probably don't know the details of the Shadows either."

Jacob shrugged. "Sounds like a fun story, but first... let me get something to drink on the bleachers," he said, pointing to his mug sitting on the nearest seat." With that, he shrugged his shoulders and began walking over, his mind still a buzz with everything that had happened so far. On the one hand, he had failed to beat Cinder in a fight; that was something he was well and sure would have happened anyhow, so no real loss there. Also, he had been thoroughly waxed by Commissar Cain the last few minutes or so, but he did get that final strike off.

And on top of that, Cinder was none the wiser of Pyrrha's Semblance. Another boon should Pyrrha be forced to confront her... not that he was going to let that come to be, but it never hurt to play it safe.

He reached the bleachers and grabbed his drink, popping the cap off an upturning the steel cup with aplomb as the cool water came thundering down his throat. It was enough to give him a jolt from the raw cold since the room was still well-heated by the summer sun outside.

With a shake of his head to let the water pour onto his head, he righted it and set it down, a content smile on his face as he realized that despite the ass-kickings, he'd done pretty good today.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something flicker. His eye darted to it.

The tiniest bit of red fabric stuck out from one of the main doorways into the auditorium for but a millisecond before disappearing behind the plaster and concrete walls.

Jacob's stomach twitched with the urge to hitch in surprise as the smile dropped from his face. Only three people he knew had red fabric as part of their outfits, and none of them were necessarily good people to have listened in on their conversations or watched their sparring.

"Jacob," called out Titus with a laugh peppered in his words, "Come on, you need to hear of this! I think it will give you a good laugh."

Jacob nodded as he watched the doorframe, hoping to spot whoever it was. Nothing for a solid five seconds.

He turned his body, but his head and eyes kept trained on the spot until his neck could twist no more and his eyes couldn't stay on it. "Sorry," he replied, "thought I saw something. Now, what was this about Samurai Space Marines?"

---

For several minutes she sat in silence, able to hear the mumbling of the two men and their ward as they talked of something she couldn't quite discern. Stealth was not something she was accustomed to, but she was at least concealed by the structure of the building.

Eventually, their voices picked up. "Alright," she heard Jacob say aloud, "I kinda wanna go for one more round before we head off for dinner. Cain?"

"I'd be delighted," said the Professor. "I've been wanting to use Valhalla for quite some time now, and I've been having too much fun to quit now."

Pyrrha sat holding her breath and holding back a giggle from her hiding spot, a great big smile across her face. She didn't want to ruin his big moment, though she would no doubt talk to him about it later.

She had watched the entire thing from the same area her uncle had with Professor Cain, and she had more fun watching his fight with Cain than his fight with Cinder by leagues. Sure, the former had been more visceral, more passionate, but here... here he was starting to make progress. Bit by bit as she watched him, his form was getting better with each time he stood up, his strikes slightly surer with each time he swung, his swings becoming more strategic and each block he made slightly more successful in its intent. Now, granted, he had a long way to go before he could really do well in a one-on-one, but... something told her that Cain was perhaps a better teacher for him than she was; Afterall, she was a student, he was a Professor at Atlas Academy, and actually had history with a chainsword, whereas she was versed in the way of spears, shields and standard swords.

And as much as she enjoyed teaching him, training with him and Jaune almost every night for the past four months... she was happy that someone could teach him properly in how his weapon worked.

Her Scroll buzzed. She scrambled to grab it to silence it, walking away and out towards the exit doors, trying to stay hidden.

On the screen, the single word "MOM" blared at her in big black letters.

She smiled as she exited the building, the sound of chainswords revving once again as she walked out into the day, passing a few Atlesian soldiers. With a quick tap, she answered the call. "Hi, Mom!"

"Hi, honey! How have you been? I haven't heard from you in a week!"

Pyrrha giggled a bit. "I'm fine, Mother," she replied. "I've just been a bit busy with schoolwork and practice, that's all."

"Well, that's good to hear. By chance, has your father called you yet?"

Pyrrha's brow rose up in confusion. "No, actually," she replied. "Why do you ask? I thought he was on a mission from Headmaster Lionheart?"

"He called me just a bit ago to let me know he's coming home... and then we have a surprise for you."

Pyrrha was quick to start figuring out what she meant by that "Oh?"

"Well, we felt like maybe you should have some support from family as well as your friends when the Vytal Tournament starts up, soo... have two tickets for a flight out to Vale in a week's time."

Pyrrha gasped in excitement. "Oh my gods," she said, holding her chest. "You're coming here?!"

"We thought about keeping it a secret, but we couldn't wait to tell you. Your father should call you either sometime in the next few hours if not tomorrow with the same news; he's out on the borders right now, so his reception's a bit spotty."

Pyrrha almost squealed with delight. "I can't wait to have you guys here. I think you're going to like my teammates a lot."

"Oh, I have no doubt of that. I'm actually looking quite forwards to meeting the boy whose stolen my little girl's heart."

Pyrrha felt a blush. "Mother, please... he doesn't even know that I like him that much."

"Well, then. Perhaps we'll have to rectify that. And this Jacob boy sounds like he will be interesting to meet, especially if he's training under your tutelage."

Pyrrha laughed. "Actually, he might not be training with me as much anymore; Professor Cain is here and he's offering him some training with his chainsaw-sword."

"Oh, Ciaphas is there! I didn't even know! Anyone else?"

Pyrrha giggled. "Uncle Titus and the rest of Team VLAT, as well as the Lysanders."

"Oh, really now? And he didn't even bother to let us know he was there. I might have some words with him when we get there, if not over the Scroll."

Both of them shared a laugh through her Scroll. "Well, it will be fantastic to have you guys here. I can't wait."

"Neither can we, Sweetie. Your father has been looking forwards to some quality time with us for a while now. But I'll let you go; I imagine it's dinner time in Vale."

"And it's midnight in Argus," Pyrrha replied with a giggle.

"I know that perfectly well, Pyrrha. Anyway, I'll let you go so you can go and eat. Have a good day, my little Angel."

Pyrrha blushed again. "Love you too, Mom. Bye."

And with that, the connection ended and Pyrrha was left alone in the central courtyard, bouncing with glee. Her parents were coming to the Vytal Festival! Her friend had finally found the perfect teacher! She had qualified for the Festival with her team!

And maybe—hell, more than likely—she was head over heels in love with her partner and team leader, Jaune Arc.

At this point, nothing could possibly go wrong?

---

Damnit, Pyrrha, you just had to think that. Well, at least the episode ended with a nice pretty pink bow despite all the other things going on. Atlas is already stepping up their presence in the city before the Breach even happens, Cinder is more than onto Jacob even if she doesn't know what he knows, and now Jacob has begun changing things. How does this all go down?

Tune in next time to find out; same RWBYHammer time, same RWBYHammer place!

As usual, please send me any replies about the story, I really enjoy what you all have to say, especially any reviews or critiques so I can keep improving with each chapter. Any favorites or follows are greatly appreciated and I hope to see you all... in the next Chapter. Bye~!

EDIT: Changed the name of the city Pyrrha's from due to (potential) revelations from the Volume 6 Preview at NYCC.