A/N: so, this story is coming to end soon. I can't say how thankful I am for all the reader I've had so far, and all the reviews, this hobby of mine had been a really good and fun experience. So, a lot of things are reaching a climax now, many thread I tried to imply and seed earlier on, boy oh boy, I sure hope I handled this well. Well, let's get to it!

Chapter 18: Until I Collapse

You were forged in the crucible of Remnant.

The unruly child squirmed beneath Salem as she should. So unaware of how deep the chasm of Vale's darkness ran, she'd believed in her ability to crawl out of it, how youthful naivety she almost envied. She'd instructed the parasite to deliver pain and it did so beautifully, a complex system of transmissions and stimulation could cause pain of the likes a human would never experience without first falling into shock, all without causing damage to tissue. The living machine was a marvel of her bio-engineering, it followed her will and her will alone as all things did, eventually. She felt the mental impulses that fired within Cinder from the unbearable pain, for someone with as much power as Salem the ability to hear a human's thoughts was but a casual, if uninteresting technique. It removed the charm of maneuverability, to the point she'd nearly forgotten the uses of it.

She hadn't been put in a position to use it in centuries now. Surprising.

The choices Cinder made… The freedom Salem had given her… It did not warrant her wrath, no, but it did demand punishment even as the plan unfolded in all of its splendor. Yes, yes! The machines of Atlas were under her complete control. She never needed Cinder to do so, only Arthur Watts and his expertise. Surely it would have been easier if the girl was loyal to do as she was told and simply hack the transmission tower. I would've caused less turmoil so early in this age, she preferred not showing Ozma her cards so soon. But alas, it was necessary, Cinder forced her hand, made her do this.

The Atlesians, in their folly, believed they could fight her with anything but the epitome of perfection, anything but the warriors and the defenders that dear Ozma cultivated over millennia. They were arrogant, believed they were safe, so much so they even completely neglected in insulating their machines, once they were taken over all of their forces were hers, she could even send commands to the guards. To compartmentalize was something Salem figured early on her dominion, when humans almost found a way to tame Grimm, and yet these shameful imitations of humanity, who held barely a drop of her sentience, merely a shadow of Ozma's wisdom, they believed she could be matched. That her forces could be defeated by things. Objects.

Oh how wrong they were. For their hubris, they would pay in blood shed, especially the General, oh she had her plans to make him suffer, but not before the girl. She was supposed to be loyal, chosen. Every event that led to where she stood now marred her otherwise perfect-

Their champion, Pyrrha, was it? She almost broke free of her influence. No. It would not happen, she would stay where she was, paralyzed by fear, not one that belonged to her, one injected insidiously into her mind. Such was the grip of magic, that even the most basic, primal instinct was under Salem's complete control. She could do more, she could do so much more.

Such as mutating and remodeling the seer into a near complete copy of hers, a perfect puppet. She sent the impulse from the comfort of her hold, her timeless castle, and half a world away the creature responded dutifully. Happy to satisfy, it sacrificed itself at her whim, melting down to the barest of essentials. Gone was the outer shell, leaving only the skeleton, and the primordial ooze that formed it. From the materials Salem could paint, as reality itself was her canvas and in it she materialized, manifested a simulacrum of herself, a puppet. It mirrored her form in every way one but one: her immortality. A small loss, it wouldn't need it.

The display horrified both girls. It genuinely horrified Cinder, even through the pain. Amusing.

She ran a hand over Pyrrha's face, but nevertheless addressed Cinder, the one who truly mattered to her, "You can still apologize, I will always accept. We all make mistakes after all, all that matters is that you move forward, ascend beyond your flawed, past self."

Salem continued, the fight within Pyrrha was fading too. Oh to have the red one join the fold, it would be marvelous, "I am truly sorry I must do this to you, but your life hangs on her hands now. You could be so much more, had we met under different circumstances."

The girl pleaded, pathetic. "Mom!" She appealed, almost invoking a deep memory from within Salem. Did she think her tears would persuade her at that point in time? She dared. Tried to bring weakness out of her. Enraging.

When the desperation hit it's climax within the girl, she managed to realize a torrent of flames from her arm, using the fragment of the maiden within. With a simple, almost nonchalant 'no', it ceased. Cinder believed, she truly believed she might have harmed that vessel with something like that. No matter, she'd see past the pain eventually, in time, a revelation would be made to her. She would return to her mothers side where she belonged, as would her partner, her sweetheart. Cinder was Salem's very own chosen one, she did not get to choose.

She was chosen, the die was cast long ago, the decision was made.

"This is not some cheap attempt at invoking mere emotion from you, Spring! I have given you a choice, so make yours. Join Ozma, and she dies. Return to me, and you will both live in bliss, forever after."

Cinder refused to do so, a temporary setback, she only needed to increase the pain, and soon the little, unruly girl would see. As she did so, Cinder howled in pain, screams that were usually made only by the dying, then nothing. Silence. Good, soon-

Pyrrha's fear vanished. The girl broke from her spell. Her will was not great enough to rival Salem's, it had to be something else. Was she not capable of feeling it anymore? Avoiding it?

At the very least it was a good display. Heroic, even. She had no Aura protecting her form, hurt to a point where death could've been preferable to normal humans, yet she still held strong, forced herself. Yes, it was charming, how she sharpened her sword using her shield, a challenge, the sound echoed across the tunnel. She was like war incarnate. Enough to give Salem chills, both of her.

She could indulge until Cinder awakened.

Pyrrha was versed in fighting with weapons, correct? If Salem's memory was still perfect as it should be, the stance she took, protecting herself as the sword pointed forward, used the Mistralian Phalanx as a basis. Adorable, one of Ozma's creations. She remembered some fighting disciplines from the time before time, but they wouldn't have quite the spirit, the gusto these Grimm Hunters could devise. In her times fighting was fighting. It was more practical, direct, and in the words of common, modern men, boring. How could she not put a spectacle here, perhaps if Cinder woke to a glorious showdown between her mother and her love she would find revelation even sooner.

Salem scoured her recollection, in it she could find the discipline of the Royal Guard; It could make for an inspiring display, and failing that, perhaps it would taunt Pyrrha, awaken the ferocity within her, she was cultured, dedicated to her studies as much as she was to the art of fighting. With a touch of her will Salem materialized a splendid pair of twin metal axes, adorned with the most intricate of royal patterns down their handles. This would be one fight the champion could not back out of after all.

She took her stance, both axes crossed above her head, provoking. It was the emblem of Beacon and in the times of old a warning, a declaration of intention, of an unyielding and impregnable defense that needed no shield to withstand any war, one that would always, and forever be the last one standing. Pyrrha roared, launching her shield at Salem as she charged forward with surprising skill.

Let us see how far you can go.

Deflecting the shield was trivial, and hooking the blade on her axe even more so. As she used the second axe to try and cut at Pyrrha's stomach, where her wound was, the shield bounced off the wall and into her shoulder, then back to Pyrrha's hand. It created a short opening, enough time for an attempt at kneeing Salem's own stomach. Good, she made proper use of feints, even predicted Salem would attack her wound, and made plans to counter it within a moment, she had potential. Salem could not allow the girl to have the upper hand so easily, and turned the knee strike aside with but a single movement, by raising her own knee.

She kicked Pyrrha backwards ten paces, to commence the fight again. Only ten paces because Pyrrha stabbed her weapon into the ground to brake the push. With her trick exposed, how would she fight then?

Pyrrha elected not to throw her shield as she charged once again, instead she held it high with both hands, as she met her foe head on like a bull. The charge had such force behind it that blocking with both axes was necessary, or else Salem would've ended on the ground, butt first.

Seeing her opportunity, Pyrrha seized it between seconds, extending her sword into a javelin, just enough to scratch Salem's simulacrum.

She could not contain herself, a smile crept across Salem's face, ecstatic. Oh the defiance, the ability to push herself past the limits again and again! This could make her heart beat once more, it was enough to rival the divine. Of course it was truly human. Humanity in its purest form was above the divine, above the callousness of the all-powerful who saw them as nothing more than mere creation, something to be toyed with. She allowed the Pyrrha to continue this time, it would've been uncouth to re-start the duel again after this. Salem mustered strength beyond what the girl's shield was capable of enduring, digging both axes into it. In a single, perfectly executed movement she opened her arms, splitting the weapon in half.

As expected Pyrrha did not waste her one chance, when she saw a vulnerable spot she took it, grasping both halves of the shield out of the air she dug them into Salem's chest. Like the warrior she was, Pyrrha didn't stop to admire the damage, she continued cutting and thrusting with her javelin, fierce like a wild tiger.

Deciding to up the stakes, Salem countered by swinging both axes downward at the same time, with such blinding speed that even Pyrha was unable to react, she split the javelin in two. While it would've been a sign of defeat to anyone else, Pyrrha simpy grasped both halves and wielded them as batons, parrying Salem's flurry of strikes and countering at blind spots simultaneously.

She struck both weapons out of Pyrrha's hands, then cast her own aside. Pyrrha punched immediately after, and when Salem grasped both hands and refused to let go, she then headbut her again and again, a mighty and desperate effort, but one that diminished with the time. Her strength was starting to fail her. She slowly collapsed to her knees in front of Salem, hacked and coughed, blood cascading from her mouth. Yes, she likely opened her wound, leading to internal bleeding.

That would be no good, "Not until I say so," Salem said, as she couched in front of her and placed a hand on Pyrrha's stomach. The girl grunted as her wound sealed shut, not by any form of healing magic but a forceful stimulation of her Aura. In a second, one of Pyrrha's hands broke free of her grasp and clutched Salem's neck. It was a moment of carelessness, Pyrrrha had been pretending.

"You called me Spring," came a voice from behind, not too far away. Cinder's voice.

She'd done it, she no longer felt any pain, there stood Cinder, renewed. Good, she had likely seen the error of her… No, no, she had not used that name.

Salem spun her head a near one hundred and eighty degrees to face her while Pyrrha attempted to choke the life out of her, "I called you Cinder, as I always have." She reached a hand out to her, "You must be confused, here, let me-"

The second after she offered her hand, Cinder unsheathed her bow and let loose an arrow, one that extended several daggers from its length, enough to kill just about anything. Salem batted Pyrrha aside, sending the girl flying towards the nearest wall, then walked Cinder's way, towering over her. Now she'd done it, the clone wouldn't last, but she provoked that piece of her past, one she'd buried with the ages.

Cinder sheathed the weapon again, "I've made my choice."

Salem stopped, perhaps she had seen things more clearly now, and luckily for her, Salem was a staunch believer in sweet and sour going well together, "Do tell."

It had to be done.

Cinder looked over at Pyrrha, who was just done sitting up. She couldn't stop it, but she knew what Salem really wanted now. What she always wanted, the maiden. She knew she could do what had to be done to escape her. It happened before she passed out from the pain. her semblance was different. It felt familiar, even if everything about it told her it wasn't.

Pyrrha was… hurt by the fight, but she still had enough strength to talk, "Cinder?"

It didn't matter. It was not yet time to use it.

She walked towards Salem, serene. One by one, she removed her arrow with a click to it's stabilizer, retracting the daggers, then the two halves of Pyrrha's shield, she let them fall, clanging on the ground below.

She opened her arms, inviting Salem closer, "I will return, mother. I have made my decision. We will be by your side."

Salem took the bait, approaching and embracing her, "Oh, my child, how I've waited to hear those words."

When Salem tried to release her, Cinder refused to let go. Instead, she raised her own temperature, through her semblance. Rapidly. The parasite within her contorned and squirmed as she expected, and Salem scrambled in surprise.

"What are you doing?"

For years now, her Semblance had been one that could melt down anything she touched. It was nothing new, it worked that way so she could forge what she destroyed in her own vision. Unfortunately it failed to kill the clone immediately as she initially hoped, somehow Salem protected the clone against her touch. This was extended to herself, and so it was what she was doing, igniting her own skeleton. It was killing the parasite inside, and the parasite she hugged, at the cost of her own well being. But Salem was not invulnerable, only tough, so it turned into a battle of endurance. To see who would have more stamina, her, or the immortal in her grasp.

It was do or die in the most literal sense, foolish at best, a hindrance at worst. But she had to try it. She had to, if she wanted to free everyone she'd come to care for from this. From the monster she became, and the consequences she almost thrust on them.

Salem snarled, angered for the first time since Cinder had come to know her, "You'll lose your arm!"

Cinder smiled, this was much more important than a simple limb. For she had the ability to choose for herself, to forge her own future, one without Salem. She survived before, she could surely do it again.

"Even aura has its limits, girl."

The smell of sulfur assaulted Cinder, Salem's clone was starting to burn, twisting in her grip.

Increasing the heat a step further, It was enough that Cinder could feel the parasite panic inside her muscles, across her bones it tried desperately to crawl its way out. then it finally stopped. The Maiden's powers had left her, presumably returning to the original wielder. That was good, she couldn't feel her arm after that, so she locked her grip using her other hand, holding her now useless left wrist. It didn't hurt, she thought losing the powers would hurt a little more, maybe they were never hers to begin with. She'd finally done good. All that was left was killing the simulacrum.

No good, the puppet regenerated too, Salem was probably trying, unlike anything she ever did. Trying to keep the imitation alive to 'teach Cinder a lesson', putting effort into it. It was time then.

Now.

Before, when Cinder woke, she knew there would only be one chance to use this. Her semblance had changed, developed. She didn't know why or how, but something had pushed her past the edge, to a point similar to when her semblance first awakened.

She had touched the shield before, as a calculated effort. As she willed it, the halves brought themselves together again with the sharp sound of metal striking metal and a magnificent glow. It worked in retrograde, reforging the weapon to its previous state.

It was completely new to her semblance, yet, at the same time it was always a part of her, difficult to wrap her own brain around it. It was similar to Glynda's ability to fix any object and it surprised Salem for a moment, a vital moment she knew Pyrrha wouldn't waste. She called her name, and with renewed strength Pyrrha jumped to catch the shield, then plunged it down on Salem's neck like a guillotine, severing the copy's head from its torso.

It wasn't enough to kill it. But Cinder had prepared for similar eventualities. Under Glynda's suggestion, she had an arrow that carried fire dust. It was the best possible time to use it, she couldn't have done too soon or Salem would simply put out the fire, with powers like hers she could do anything, and it was the only arrow of its kind. Given how scarce the resource was in that boat, Glynda gifted Cinder her own dust, then moved to battle armed with nothing but a combat knife.

Would Salem ever have done that for her? Cinder didn't think so.

Before the copy could compose itself, she stabbed the arrow inside her ribcage. The impact itself was enough to trigger the mechanism, the chemical reaction that enveloped the body and burned it in a squall of fire. It wouldn't stop there, that much dust could burn for hours, and such a dangerous arrow was meant only for foes that could have proven too much for her alone.

As the body fell to the ground Pyrrha let off a triumphant, victorious roar. Cinder would have done so too, has she the strength to. Alas, she could only fall to her knees, aura depleted, one arm useless and the other hurting from the effort that had her now exhaling smoke.

After a huff, Pyrrha looked at Cinder, a smile, a heroic smile still gracing her face, "I didn't know you could fix stuff with your mind."

Cinder laughed, "I couldn't before. Something changed while I was out."

Pyrrha nodded, trying to catch her breath, "I've heard about stuff like that. Was this it, did we... kill her?"

Cinder shook her head, "No, that was just a puppet, a weak one, because it used a weak Grimm."

"Well, I've got a lot of questions, but we should probably go before that," she pointed at the bonfire, "gets back up." Pyrrha hooked an arm around Cinder's waist, to prop her up. Already, it was as if Pyrrha had never suffered a life-threatening wound.

Cinder nodded, and so, difficult as it was, they moved. First to find and fix both pieces of Pyrrha's weapon, then they moved . So little time had passed, and the fighting above seemed to have stopped. The sun was still setting, and it was a beautiful golden sunset.

"By the way," Pyrrha said, "We need to talk about your stepmother."

They jumped out of the tunnel, but what Pyrrha saw wasn't anywhere close to comforting.

To one side, a torrent of flames spewed forth from Professor Oobleck's thermos, his trusty flamethrower. That, in itself , wouldn't have been surprising were it not for the fact he was burning an entire platoon of androids, about fifty of them. To the other side was Glynda, surrounded by scattered pieces of the robotic atlesian knights, she had just finished digging a combat knife into another robot's head, then she cut downwards, splitting it from head to crotch. The atlesian dropships had been crushed like soda cans, and no students seemed to have joined the fight, Not Team Coffee or Team Ruby, they simply stared in awe, much like Pyrrha herself. Cinder noticed it too, though there wasn't much surprise in her eyes, she only asked to sit down for a second, to recompose herself..

One student broke from the small group nearby, a short, red headed girl Pyrrha quickly recognized as her friend, Nora Valkyrie. As Nora ran her way, before she could even properly greet her dear friend, she released her war hammer, letting it crash into the pavement below, all she could leap into Pyrrha's arms in a hug.

Nora dug her face into Pyrrha's abdomen, a consequence of her short stature. Moments later, she finally spoke, "We were almost worried about you."

That was Nora alright, filled to the brim with affection, even though hours ago Pyrrha had been nothing more than a shitty friend. She hugged back, "I can see you were busy up here. I'm sorry."

"About what, not being in two places at once?"

"About the things I said."

Nora released her. Her face was smeared with some of Pyrrha's blood, though as she wiped her hand it disintegrated like fine black soot, "Come on, I can't be mad at you for that."

Pyrrha grinned, "So we're cool?"

Nora crossed her arms and looked away in the usual, over-exaggerated way, "Well I wouldn't go that far."

Pyrrha rolled her eyes, she knew exactly what Nora wanted, "I'll give you the last tub of ice cream from my secret stash."

Nora swallowed thickly, "Yeah, about that…"

Pyrrha was about to ask Nora when, and how she managed to take such a precious, scarce delicacy, but Glynda's voice cut through the crowd like a knife, "Students of Beacon, listen up!"

In a second, every student stopped, straightened up, and listened. Even Cinder got up just to follow suit.

Glynda spoke some words to Oobleck, who nodded in approval, "We just got word that our atlesian androids have been compromised. Additionally, a Guard battalion is attacking Beacon as we speak. That's seven hundred and four guards who we do not know why they have done so."

Glynda paused for a moment, letting the statement sink in. They were just done hunting Grimm, Grimm that likely had similar numbers, now they were supposed to fight allies.

"You will disable them and free Beacon Academy, that is your next quest."