Her morning routine completed, Ciel reviewed her revised daily schedule.
LOOP 5
0800-1000: Weapons practice
1000-1200: Semblance research
1200-1300: Lunch
1300-1500: Combat practice
1500-1615: Preparations and transit
1615: Meet Penny
1800: Fight
It met her approval. It was detailed enough to define her day and make sure her time was productively spent, while vague enough to allow some flexibility.
If she looped again… No, she decided. It was time to be realistic. A battle this terrible, a battle she'd only seen the very beginnings of, would likely kill her again and again. When she looped again, she'd refine the schedule further. She'd use what she discovered in one loop to plan what she'd do in the next. She would learn.
It felt good to think that, to have a plan, to feel like she had some control over her destiny. She might have been trapped in a cycle of trauma and death, but having it be scheduled, normalized, regulated, made all the difference.
Spirit bolstered, Ciel headed for the weapons range.
Having accepted the loops and understanding more how to use them, she began to experiment—and to compare notes across her lives and deaths.
Loop 5: Gunnery score 256.
Loop 6: Gunnery score 257.
Loop 7: Gunnery score 253.
Loop 5: "Hey, Penny. Can you tell me about that match-fixing scandal from the 34th Vytal Festival?"
"Oh, certainly, Miss Ciel! It was a very big story back in…"
Loop 6: "Hey, Penny. Do you think a match-fixing scandal like back in the 34th Vytal Festival could happen again?"
"It would be difficult. There were a number of reforms put in place to prevent such a thing happening again, such as randomized pairings."
"Okay, sure. So, if someone were trying to force a pairing they wanted, they'd have to go after the randomizer?"
"That would be one element they'd have to attack, yes. Why do you ask?"
"Oh, no reason."
Loop 7: "Hey, Penny. What would you say if I told you someone had hacked the randomizer because they were trying to fix matches, like back in the 34th Vytal Festival?"
"I… I would ask what evidence you had of that, and why you hadn't reported it up to General Ironwood. The General is in charge of security, after all."
"As if I could get to the General…"
"What's that, Miss Ciel?"
"Nothing. But you wouldn't be prepared to believe it?"
"It seems highly unlikely. With the amount of scrutiny that attends the Vytal Festival, the amount of gambling that depends upon its outcomes, and the number of people in attendance, maintaining the security of its systems is a high priority."
"Right, right…"
Loop 5: Ciel broke off from the charge of the students as soon as she debarked at Beacon courtyard. She knew a Bullhead and its White Fang fire team would be arriving—they'd been responsible for her second death—so she headed to their drop zone to intercept.
She got there just as the fire team was springing out and was amongst them instantly with Metronome in its mace form. Quick but powerful strikes clobbered them; she was too close for them to shoot her easily, and faster and stronger in melee.
She was feeling good about herself when an Ursa bounded up and crashed into her.
She realized, too late, that in her haste to engage the White Fang she'd neglected the Ursa she'd downed before, and attracted its attention with her fight against the Fang. As she rolled to a stop it pounced atop her, its enormous mass bearing down on her; she was only just able to interpose Metronome under its neck to keep its snapping jaws from her face. That couldn't last long, it was too heavy and strong—
The White Fang Bullhead unloaded a full spread of rockets against her and the Ursa and vaporized them both.
Loop 6: Fired on the Ursa while strafing to the White Fang drop zone. Hit it just enough to tear off a leg, slowing it down, buying time to dispatch the fire team. Then double back into cover, away from the Bullhead before its pilot decided to launch rockets, finishing off the Ursa in passing. Great!
Then a wave of Creep stormed in from the forest and were upon her before she could retreat to the main courtyard. She shot, crushed, or smashed a dozen before she was knocked from her feet, and then they were latching on to her limbs, and pulling, pulling, pulling…
Loop 7: Ursa—killed rather than maimed this time. Fire team clobbered. Retreated to cover until the Bullhead bugged out. Fell back towards the courtyard. Other students saw the Creep coming at her warning; collective engagement broke the wave. Better.
But then a squadron of Atlesian Knights approached and Ciel jogged towards them, intending to work with them like she had in some Atlas-specific exercises, only they were firing at her before she realized she needed to defend herself, and while an individual AK was notoriously soft-hitting there were a dozen firing at her on full automatic at point-blank range and she didn't have a chance to dodge or deflect, only soak with Aura and eventually with flesh.
Her eighth loop was the first she managed to keep from vomiting when she was thrown back.
Progress, she reflected as she took notes to the background noise of Penny's practicing. Very costly progress.
In one sense, looping cost her nothing—she got another attempt, free (as far as she could tell) of the consequences of the last. On the other hand, dying sucked.
She almost chuckled. It was a crude thought, and she wasn't given to indulging in crude language, but sometimes, the simplest way was best. Dying sucked.
It sucked on its own, but it sucked even more when it came with knowledge that made everything worse. She'd been gunned down by Atlesian Knights. AKs couldn't act on their own; Ciel didn't know the details of their command arrangements, but she knew that. They couldn't act without authorization. Without some sort of command signal they shut down. That meant the AKs that shot her had been acting under orders.
The AKs had been hacked.
That was supposed to be impossible... just as impossible as hacking the Vytal match randomizer. Lots of 'impossible' things seemed to be happening these days.
"The Atlas Military can't save me."
She underlined and bolded that statement. At this point, she doubted if the Atlas Military could save itself. It was a petrifying thought.
She shook her head. No. No, she wasn't doing this again. The Atlas Air Fleet might fail, but that didn't mean she had to. The General had mentioned a "vagabond" taking over his ship, meaning the Benefactor. Was that how the AKs had been hacked? But even taking over the ship shouldn't have been enough…
Ciel just didn't know enough, either about how the Benefactor had been seized or how the AKs had been hacked. She did think she understood how the General's shuttle had sunk when nothing had shot it: its cargo of AKs took it down from the inside. And she thought she could explain the pile of trashed AKs on the Beacon courtyard when she arrived. She'd thought they'd been destroyed by grimm or White Fang. It was just as plausible that they'd turned on students.
Students who were much better at defending themselves than Ciel.
Shame forced Ciel to look up from her notes. She saw Penny performing attacks and blocks in rapid succession, attacks and blocks Ciel wouldn't be able to match with years of training.
She was so out of her depth.
For now, she amended. She was out of her depth for now. She'd improve.
She'd probably improve more, she thought ruefully, if she lasted more than a few seconds once the fighting actually started. Paradox: combat experience was the best teacher, but it too often killed its students.
What was a way to last longer, to get more out of these loops?
Her eyes drifted to Penny as the program shifted. New drones deployed, simulating a champion from one of the other teams.
Ciel felt herself smile. She had an answer.
"Exercise complete. Please remove all unused ammunition and re-engage all safeties."
Ciel followed the instructions of the automated range. She removed the nearly empty drum from Metronome. Her weapon's submachine gun form was ravenous for ammunition. Which reminded her, she needed to get two extra magazines and load them into her rocket locker. There would be no time for that later and there'd be no other ammo sources once the fighting started. She hadn't lived long enough to burn through a whole magazine yet, but the plan was that she would.
As big as this battle appeared to be, she needed to gear up for the long haul.
Of course, she thought sourly as the screen displayed her results, it wouldn't matter if her shots weren't effective…
"Gunnery score: 260."
If she were being generous, she'd point out that this was above her average, and her highest result in the past few runs. If she were being cynical, she'd remember it wasn't even her personal best, but was well within the typical spread of her scores, which was 256 +/- 5.
Hopefully she'd see meaningful improvement soon.
Ciel counted down the moments in her head. Three, two, one, and turn…
With five books in her arms, she reached the end of the library's aisle just in time to collide with a dark-haired student.
"Sorry," she said.
"No, I was preoccupied," the other girl replied, backing away.
"Oh, I know you," said Ciel. "Blake… Belladonna, wasn't it?"
Blake blinked in surprise. "That's right. Have we met?"
"I watched your match from the teams round," Ciel said. And we've had this conversation three times and I'm starting to get the hang of it. "You're with Team RWBY?"
"Y-yes," said Blake after a moment. Ciel still didn't know why the hesitation was there. Either Blake was surprised to be recognized as part of that team instead of some other way, or she was embarrassed about it, Ciel couldn't decide.
"Ciel Soleil, Atlas Academy," Ciel said, and she did not offer her hand for a handshake—she'd made that mistake in an earlier loop. Blake had disengaged immediately. "I'm with Penny."
"Oh," said Blake, and that got some recognition. "I know Penny. Is she well?"
"Yes, but she's not the type to be in the library on a day like today," Ciel said, playing up a regretful tone. "Unlike us."
"Apparently," said Blake with… not a smile, but a hint of amusement, diluted though it was. "We look like the only ones. I'll leave you to it."
"I think we can help each other, actually," said Ciel—this chance had slipped away from her before, but she knew better now. "You're doing some semblance research?"
Both eyebrows went up—as expressive as Blake got. "Yes…?"
"So am I," said Ciel, displaying the books she'd picked up. "That's why we both ended up on this aisle. Why don't we help each other out? We'll get through twice as much content."
Blake looked hesitant, so Ciel pressed. "It'll let us get more done before we have to go back to our teams."
That was something Blake would respond to. "And you already have some books to look through?"
Ciel lifted her selection—five books on Auras and semblances, none of which she'd looked at in previous loops.
"Okay," said Blake, turning to walk towards one of the tables. They had their pick; as Blake had said, few of their peers were willing to waste a day of the Vytal Festival in the library. "So, what are you looking for?"
Ciel sat down across from Blake and handed her two of the books. "I'm looking for information about semblances that work without Aura."
That got another blink out of Blake, the only hint she gave of her surprise. "I thought semblances didn't work without Aura."
"I thought so, too, but I heard someone's might not," said Ciel, "and since I don't have one myself I'm interested in learning. What about you?"
"I'm looking for semblances that affect the mind or senses," Blake said. And stopped.
"Okay," said Ciel. "Of the self, or of others?"
"Others," said Blake. She hesitated, meeting Ciel's eyes before looking away.
"Okay," said Ciel, not actually interested in pressing Blake for a deeper explanation. Blake was skittish, she'd learned, and anything that seemed like prying made her flee. Anyway that would take time, and Ciel had a schedule to keep. "I'll look for anything like that."
Blake nodded and appeared relieved at Ciel's lack of curiosity. Soon the two of them were buried in their books, skimming through, occasionally getting the other's attention. There was, to their mutual relief (though not to Ciel's surprise), no need between them for idle conversation or babble. The books and the task were enough.
Working with Blake was strangely comforting. It felt better to be working with someone than to be doing this alone. This was odd to Ciel; it was not how she normally felt about these things. Then again, Ciel wasn't 'normally' trying to escape a deathtrap. Now, she'd take the help.
Lunchtime approached in seemingly the blink of an eye. Ciel had helped Blake find half a dozen references to illusionary or hallucinatory semblances; neither had found anything like what Ciel was looking for. "Thanks for helping," Ciel said.
"No problem," Blake said, and very nearly smiled. "I need to get back to my team."
"I'll put these back," Ciel said graciously. Blake made a polite departure. Ciel returned to the shelves.
There was no way to place a physical marker to show how far along Ciel had gotten in her search. It would reset along with everything else. The only reminder would be what Ciel carried in her own memories. She wrote it down in her scroll notes—not that those would carry over, either, but the process helped.
Fourteen books down, umpteen to go.
The search was going much faster with Blake's help. Even if Ciel had to spend some time each loop recruiting Blake, she more than made up for it with the extra eyes. And if the prospect of getting through all these books was daunting, even with help? Well, Ciel would have plenty of chances to do the job.
Beacon photographer faunus.
A sky like blood.
"Sal-u-tations!"
A horrible tearing sound.
"This was not a tragedy."
This time, Ciel's locker was one of the first to strike the Nevermore. She took dark satisfaction in the sound it made.
Ciel joined the crowd of her peers to get to their lockers and gear up. She pulled the extra magazines out of her rocket locker and secured them. She did it all without looking in the direction of Penny's body. No number of loops, she thought, could prepare her for that sight. Instead, she had a moment to spare to look at Pyrrha—perhaps the first time she'd bothered to really look at the Invincible Girl.
She didn't look that invincible, to Ciel's surprise. She seemed not only shocked by what she'd done, but distressed, pained, tearful even.
She hadn't meant to do it.
That lying voice had described Pyrrha's attack as 'merciless', but, as with everything else it said, the opposite seemed closer to the truth.
Someone walked in front of Pyrrha, breaking Ciel's sight of her, and Ciel returned her attentions to her gear. Maybe it didn't matter in the end. But… something about this was sticking in Ciel's mind. This was worth remembering.
Then everyone was running again, moving for the loading dock, and there was the General giving his little speech. Ciel looked nervously past him, peering into his shuttle. Sure enough, she thought she could just make out two rows of AKs in standby mode.
"No one will fault you if you leave," the General said, and turned to board his shuttle.
Now or never. Ciel pushed her way past her fellow students to get closer to the General. "General, sir!"
He paused on the ramp. "Yes?"
"Sir," said Ciel, trying to remember the words she'd prepared in anticipation of this moment, "isn't drone control out of the Benefactor? If it's been hijacked, can't someone take control of the AKs from there?"
The General shook his head. "We took more precautions than that. Drone control isn't just accessing the right console, it's a separate system that requires extra credentials, with an added layer of cyber security protections."
Ciel nodded. "I understand, sir. Still…" her eyes drifted to the idle AKs. "…watch your back?"
He smiled, and there was nothing patronizing in it. "You too, Trainee." Then he was up the ramp.
Ciel turned and hustled as fast as she could to rejoin the other students. She did understand. This mystery enemy, then, had something prepared in advance to hack the AKs. It was ready before they hijacked Benefactor.
That was something learned, at least. And maybe, this time, the General would be ready for the AKs turning on him? Or at least open to the possibility?
She chose a seat in the airship that let her look in the direction of his shuttle and watch it as it went. Would he make it this time?
No. If his shuttle lasted any longer before it exploded and fell, it was only because Ciel had delayed its launch. Her heart sank.
"Ruby! What are you doing?!"
Ciel turned. Sun Wukong was standing in the aisle, reaching backwards—at what, Ciel couldn't tell; all she saw was that the back ramp was shutting. Still, this was the chance she'd been waiting for. "Sun," she called to him.
He turned and tried to smile, but didn't manage it. "Yeah?"
"I don't have a team," Ciel said bluntly. "It'll be dangerous for me to fight alone. Can I follow you?"
"Huh? Oh, sure, strength in numbers and all that," said Sun, though he seemed distracted. He looked again at the open ramp and went to secure it.
That was fine, he'd given permission. This was what Ciel had hoped for. Sun was a finalist in the Festival, so he and his team had to be strong. If she was going to live longer and learn more, sticking with stronger fighters was the way to go.
Plus, she had thought correctly that he'd be approachable.
This was good. She was ready.
She was not ready.
Following Sun was like chasing a rubber bouncy ball thrown into a room made of mirrors. He bounded every which way, sometimes in multiple directions at once (stupid clones). In no time at all it felt like she'd run herself ragged trying to keep up with him.
"You get used to it," said a long-suffering voice next to her.
Bent over and panting from trying to chase after Sun, she looked up and saw the three other members of his team. They were sticking together admirably in the semi-absence of their leader. The redhead with the cutlass sighed as his eye flicked over her weapon. "Cover our left, would you?"
She nodded sharply. "Yes, sir."
"Atlesians," he said with a roll of his eyes, but there was no more time for repartee—another wave of Beowolves was bounding towards them.
Ciel did as requested. Metronome roared in her hands as the remaining members of Team SSSN charged forward into melee—and then Sun himself joined them, unbidden, crashing through the middle of the brawl.
With a giddy rush, Ciel realized she'd far surpassed her previous records for longevity. Secure for the moment, she emptied the last of her magazine into a boarbatusk skirting the outside of Team SSSN's fight; she didn't kill it, but she distracted it long enough for an electro-glaive to strike its side, knock it over, and stab into its—
The earth boomed.
Ciel froze mid-reload; her magazine slipped out from between her fingers. Her eyes rose from her weapon to the mountains that hemmed in Vale. The closest and largest sent out another boom. She felt it in her soles and her soul alike.
In an eruption of rock, a titanic grimm blasted open the mountain's face.
It was like nothing she'd read about. It was too big, too fast, too flying. Like an enormous winged lizard—the dragons of old myths—it flapped towards Beacon, covering the distance with terrifying speed.
Ciel's dread multiplied.
How could they fight that?
The beast roared overhead. Frozen in her terror, Ciel saw too late blacker-than-black droplets falling in the grimm's wake, including one right at her—
Agony, unbearable, everywhere, liquid torture across every pore, every inch of skin, in her eyes and mouth and ears, searing, acid, burning, flensing, Aura gone instantly and replaced by pain beyond pain, through skin and muscle and bone, torture tearing at her soul—
Bright!
Ciel fell and shook, clawed at her face, at her skin, shaking and rattling and heaving breaths. She itched something horrible.
How long she spent writhing there she couldn't tell. All she knew was that, when she came to her senses, she still felt aftershocks of pain and occasional twitches, and she was—once again—lying partially in her own vomit.
"I am contacting emergency services."
"Don't," Ciel croaked, trying to wave Penny off. "'m okay."
"Respectfully, Miss Ciel, you do not look at all 'okay'."
"It's over. Past. I'll be alright." Which was true. She wasn't being dissolved at all right now.
But she had a clear winner for "worst way to die". She would take a thousand giant gears to the face before she let that happen ever again.
Which meant, on top of all the other problems she had to solve, she had to figure out some way, somehow, to stop a dragon.
"I am dying and coming back to the night before my death, with the ability to change the circumstances of my death."
"I may have unlocked my semblance."
"The Atlas Military can't save me."
"I won't go with Team SSSN again."
That last was an unnecessary comment; Ciel's long-term plan was to work through the high-ranking teams to try and find which she worked with best, which meant trying a different one each time. Still, it felt good to be definite on this point. She couldn't keep up with Sun Wukong, and she wouldn't try again.
"A grimm dragon joins the battle."
Not just a grimm dragon, she noted: a grimm dragon no one knew was there, and which emerged from inside Vale's perimeter defenses.
Vale, Ciel knew, was no Atlas, military-wise. Still, its perimeter defenses were famously potent, especially since they could concentrate on the limited paths through the mountains. There was a reason even Ancient Goliaths kept their distance from the City of Vale. That any grimm were getting through the cordon to participate in the invasion of Beacon was a testament to just how massive the attack was.
A massive attack caused by the equally-massive negative emotion bomb that detonated in Amity, strong enough—along with the panic from the attack itself—to awaken a dragon Vale never knew was there.
Someone knew more about the grimm of Vale than Vale itself.
A sharp clang drew Ciel's attention. Penny was on the attack, sweeping against a new (simulated) foe—Ciel had lost track of which. She checked her watch. She still had plenty of time to think about this while Penny was practicing. Okay… where was she?
She reviewed her notes. The dragon. Right.
But Vale, even not knowing the dragon was there, should have had some tools capable of fighting it. They had their Bullheads, for starters, and Beacon's point defenses. And the Air Fleet was here!
Except the enemy had taken actions that neutralized the Air Fleet. And the only Bullheads Ciel had seen during the battle were in the possession of the White… Fang…
Ciel almost lost a hold of her scroll.
All of this was deliberate.
Any attack was planned, of course, but this was bigger. It wasn't just a bunch of attacks all happening at once; this was a meticulously orchestrated series of events, all bent for the same purpose, and all complementing each other for maximum damage.
Som had been right, those many loops ago: it was conventionally impossible to transport grimm. But these loops were redefining what Ciel knew as "impossible". This foe understood the grimm in a way the Kingdoms, with all their science and study, didn't. Understood them well enough to know about the dragon, well enough to know what they needed to do to summon it.
Was it out of the question that a foe with that kind of knowledge could get the grimm to cooperate with air transport? No, Ciel didn't think it was. Not anymore.
Air transport… there was something there. Another thread to be pulled. Ciel yanked.
Air transport… in Bullheads. Vale's Bullheads!
Of course. The White Fang had hardware, naturally, whatever they could steal, and Penny had mentioned the White Fang stealing Bullheads before. The size of this operation was something else, though. Not only the size, but the fact that it was unopposed, that none of Vale's air defenses struck back. Why was that? Because the White Fang must have seized the rest of Vale's own Bullheads to accomplish the attack. In all the confusion, those Bullheads never got tagged as enemies and were allowed free rein. Plus, this method took away some of Vale's best weapons against the dragon.
She didn't have direct evidence of it, but it fit the facts with terrifying neatness.
It was the same thing with the Air Fleet. Whoever this "vagabond" was the General had mentioned, they had to be part of this grander scheme. Taking over the Benefactor not only let them sink the other battleships, not only let them hack the AKs using a program they had ready in advance (maybe the same program that hacked the randomizer to deliver the Penny-Pyrrha matchup)… it removed from the board something capable of stopping the dragon. In every instance, this enemy was turning the Kingdoms' best weapons against them, turning every strength into weakness, and leaving nothing to oppose the grimm.
The point of this, of all of this, was for the dragon to destroy Beacon.
Ciel's mind had been rushing on, as elated by each successive revelation as she was horrified, but here she stopped. This, at last, was impenetrable. Because what kind of maniac saw profit in the destruction of an Academy?
Rooting for the grimm was rooting for annihilation. Who could want that?
There wasn't a person on Remnant who didn't understand that the struggle against the grimm was a daily matter of survival. It was reflexive. Ingrained. Grimm were a consideration for everything, so pervasive they were part of standard weather reports. "Highs around freezing, wind from the southeast, low chance of precipitation but a high grimm advisory, so if you're going to be out and about today, leave the umbrellas at home but bring your guns. Those of you with umbrella guns, just be yourselves."
What could possibly make someone take the side of the grimm?
It was a question she didn't know how to process, let alone answer, and it stalled her out until the console in front of her beeped.
"Simulation complete."
Ciel looked up to Penny, who was nodding to herself as she stowed Floating Array. "Excellent," said Penny. "I am pleased with how I performed."
"Me, too," said Ciel, which wasn't a lie. She may not have been paying attention this time, but she had on previous runs, and she had every reason to believe Penny had been just as impressive during this run-through. "I'll shut this down, and then we can head back to the cliffs."
"Yes, ma'am," said Penny chipperly. Ciel almost smiled at Penny's relentless good attitude. How had Ciel ever found it annoying?
She hadn't needed it before, she realized. Now she did. She had to have some counterweight to the horrors she faced, and Penny—unknowingly but sincerely—provided.
This had to be protected, if only she could figure out how.
Penny cocked her head. "Are you alright, Miss Ciel? You were staring."
"Sorry," said Ciel with a shake. "Just the nerves again."
"Interesting," said Penny, radiating honesty.
"I'm surprised you're not feeling nervous."
"Why would I be? What's the worst that could happen?"
Ciel could only manage a strangled hack.
"The… well." Some of Penny's brightness left her. "The incident tonight is the worst injury to happen in a Vytal match in years. Decades, even. It seems unlikely that anything as bad, or even close, could happen to me."
"What if you fight Pyrrha?" Ciel tried.
"Then I am sure it will be an excellent match."
"Hasn't she never lost a tournament bout?"
"Neither have I," Penny pointed out.
"She has a longer record than you."
"True," Penny allowed. "Well, I am just starting my streak, I suppose! In any event, I am not overly worried about what might happen to me. Friend Ruby says Pyrrha is very nice!"
That stumped Ciel. How could "very nice" Pyrrha Nikos kill very nice Penny so very viciously?
A thought bubbled up. "Does she have a history of brutality?"
Penny blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"There are rules against being too brutal in these fights. I wonder if Pyrrha's ever been cited for breaking those rules. Or if she's ever gotten close to breaking the rules in her fights."
Penny frowned. "I doubt it," she said, but with little certainty in her voice.
"Could you check?" Ciel said, and angled in for the kill. "It'd make me feel better, if I knew you weren't going up against someone with a record like that."
Penny couldn't help herself. "I will review Pyrrha's fight records to look for any citations for excessive force, or any performances that come close to being cited."
Of course you will, because you're just that nice, and I happen to know you can watch Pyrrha's entire tournament history in one night. "Wow, you'd do that for me?"
"Of course," Penny said. "I believe I will have the time before we meet up at Amity. Which will be at…?"
"1615," said Ciel, and she smiled. That's it. Help me save you. We'll get there.
Sooner or later.
"Bird strike."
Normal morning.
"Gunnery score: 259."
"You're doing some semblance research?" (Four more books down—no mention of no-Aura semblances, more than a few of hallucinatory/illusionary semblances.)
Beacon photographer Faunus.
"Sal-u-tations!"
"Hello, Penny," said Ciel. Half of her wanted to smile at Penny's exuberance; the other half wanted to cry at how that exuberance was about to be cut down. "Let's go get you registered."
"Let's," agreed Penny, and they started off along the concourse. "By the way, I checked up on Pyrrha's fight history like you asked."
Ciel knew without asking that when Penny said she'd reviewed it, she meant all of it. "Good for you. What did you find?"
"She has zero citations or near-citations for fight brutality. Quite the contrary! In several of her bouts, the horn to end the fight sounded while she was striking, and she redirected her attack to avoid connecting. It appears she is quite scrupulous about excessive force."
Ciel put on a sickly smile. "That's comforting."
"I agree," said Penny. She looked at Ciel, face as bright as a summer day. "So even my worst-case scenario does not seem very bad, does it?"
You don't know what your worst-case scenario is. "You may be right," she said instead.
Penny wasn't right.
"What a dazzling display!" crowed the announcer, who shared none of Ciel's dread foreknowledge of what was to come.
Ciel was forcing herself to watch. Knowing what was coming, knowing how horrible it would be, made it harder to face.
She liked Penny now, she found to her distress. The first loop had been horrible because it was so unexpected. The second was awful because she should have known better. The loops after that were grueling because they constituted failure.
Now, that terrible weight of failure hit harder because Penny was more than just a mission.
She was a bright, cheerful girl who just wanted to do her job and explore her world, and Ciel had to watch as she was torn apart by someone who didn't even want to do it.
But being certain of that last part was worth the pain of watching it happen.
Ciel watched Pyrrha's face exclusively this time. What she saw was surprising, but indisputable. It wasn't bloodlust or anger or anything aggressive on Pyrrha's face, either before the kill or after. Nor was it the battle-calm so many Huntresses exhibited and that Pyrrha herself was famous for. It was fear, followed by terror, followed by shock.
Shock so strong it kept her rooted in place when the Nevermore came. Only Ruby Rose's berserker bravery kept Pyrrha from dying without lifting a finger in her own defense.
Whatever Pyrrha had been trying to do, this wasn't it.
As she tried to master sorrow and pain reflecting Pyrrha's own, Ciel realized this begged the question: what did Pyrrha think she was doing? If this wasn't what she meant to do, why'd she do it?
If Pyrrha was characterized by restraint, why such egregious overkill?
Ciel's line of sight was broken by someone handing Pyrrha her weapons back. Oh, right, Ciel thought, and belatedly keyed her scroll for her own rocket locker. She had an appointment to keep with death.
It was important to stay on-schedule, after all.
By the time they were aboard the transport down to Beacon, Ciel was sure of Pyrrha's… innocence wasn't the right word, but she didn't know what was. Regardless, some blonde boy—probably a member of her team—was by her side, trying to perk her up and only sort-of succeeding.
Ciel couldn't watch Pyrrha forever. She had two things to do during the trip.
She counted down the seconds as she looked out the window. The General's shuttle would go down any moment… there.
It was all too easy to look away, to not watch yet again as the General sank with only a slim chance of survival—Ciel couldn't possibly live through such a crash, but the General's Aura, prosthetics, and stubbornness were all legendary; he just might…
As she put the shuttle behind her, a blur of red and black shot past.
It resolved for just a second at the transport's rear ramp: Ruby Rose. Sun called out to her, but she burst out from the ramp—sailing across the gap back towards Amity.
Ciel had no idea what Ruby was trying to do, but she knew she'd be making a note of this in her next loop. Something like, "No act is too insanely dangerous for Ruby Rose".
That seemed about right.
As Sun went to check the ramp shut, Ciel spotted her next target: Flynt Coal, leader of Team FNKI. His team wasn't as strong as some of the others, if their falling in the doubles round was any indication, but he was accessible and Atlesian. That had to count for something.
"Flynt," she said as she moved closer, "I don't have a team of my own. Could I fight alongside you? I'll watch your back."
Flynt regarded her impassively for a moment. "Like you watched Swan's back for him?"
The words were a gut punch. Flynt wasn't supposed to know about that.
Shame washing over her, Ciel started to move away, but Neon Katt bent backwards over her seat to look at both of them. "Hey, Flynt, I knoooow holding grudges is kind of a thing for you, but maybe this isn't the same sorta thing as Swan? And besides," her voice changed to be more sober and even, "looking out the window, I say we need all the help we can get."
"Thanks," said Ciel with a rush of gratitude.
Neon gave her a toothy grin. "If you're watching his flank, I don't have to, and I get to go play!" She brandished what was either nunchaku or a pair of glow sticks connected by wire. It was hard for Ciel to tell the difference, even from this close.
"Typical," said Flynt, but without much heat. "Alright, Soleil. In that case, I'll count on you to keep my left clear. Can you dig it?"
"Absolutely," said Ciel, brandishing Metronome's submachine gun form.
"Coming in hot!" shouted the pilot. Ciel braced herself to take the plunge back into the disaster area.
Compared to Sun, Flynt was a much easier follow. He fought like a turret, controlling areas with his Dust and semblance, freeing up his teammates to exploit disabled enemies or to have safe avenues of advance or retreat. Without having to worry about her position relative to her follow, Ciel was able to focus more on the enemy and on her gunnery.
She also, for maybe the first time, had time to think, to anticipate, to…
"Creep coming from the right," she said.
Her call came almost before the wave broke into view, but she knew it was coming, and sure enough they charged around the building there before she finished her sentence. Flynt pivoted, blasting Wind Dust to halt their charge, and then Kobalt and Neon were in the midst of them, each of their swings leveling a Creep.
Tick, tick, tick. "AKs coming from the Tower," she said, directing Metronome to that heading. A submachine gun was technically at a disadvantage compared to the AKs' rifles, but she had advantages in Aura and accuracy. She knocked down two of them before Ivory got to them and cleaned up.
"Keep it coming, Soleil," said Flynt, all traces of hostility gone.
She did, as best she remembered, and as she did, something amazing happened.
She felt like she had a handle on things.
It was still a desperate battle that strained her Aura and ammunition to the limit, and she could see her allies taking hits and a few going down and staying down, but finally, finally, she was in a situation that made sense. She knew enough about the battle and about her role to make a difference. She was able to contribute while staying safe; FNKI's side of the battlefield was reasonably secure. It was a welcome change.
Tick, tick, tick. "Now…" she started to say, but a boom interrupted her.
"What's that?" said Flynt, and for the first time he sounded shaken.
Ciel knew.
Dragon.
Her eyes swept the area, trying to remember where it had flown, where it had dropped that… whatever it was. "Ivory, get back here!" she called.
Boom.
He didn't need to be told twice, retreating rapidly back to Flynt's position. Even having seen it, Ciel's gaze went to the dragon as it swooped around, drawing all attention to itself. "Watch out, it's going to attack—" she began… but it didn't, not exactly. The black droplets came from it as before, but they weren't near any team (other than the aggressively out of position Team SSSN). They hit the ground, apparently harmlessly.
And resolved into grimm.
"Oh, hell no," said Flynt, which was the best summation Ciel could imagine. No wonder her last death had been so horrific: she'd been dunked in essence-of-grimm. Even worse, the students were barely holding their own against this level of attack. If the dragon could just create more grimm out of nothing, how could they hope to push them back?
"I don't have the Dust for this!" called Neon as she raced back towards Flynt, an Ursa loping after her.
"I don't think there is enough Dust for this," Flynt replied, but he readied his trumpet all the same.
Ciel belatedly realized she was supposed to be watching her sector—and nearly paid the price as a boarbatusk came spinning at her. She started to dodge—
-but it would hit Flynt if she did.
She braced herself instead, lowering her shoulder and leaning into it as it came. The impact sent her flying back, Aura sparking, but it stopped the boarbatusk cold, and Ivory had it on its back in moments.
With a groan, Ciel staggered back to her feet and returned to her position on Flynt's flank, giving a half-hearted salute at Ivory as she went.
"Sorry about the Swan crack," Flynt said in between blasts. "Y'all got nothing to prove."
"Not to you," Ciel muttered, emptying the last of her latest magazine into some approaching Beowolves. Eject, get the next drum, re—
Oh. There wasn't another drum.
She had enough wherewithal not to lock up at this unpleasant discovery; as the first of the surviving Beowolves swung at her, she ducked under it while converting Metronome to mace and answered with three rapid but crushing blows—ribs, back, skull—as it went past.
The other two met similarly swift ends, which meant Ciel was able to look up in time to see two Paladins approaching.
On the one hand, she'd never seen them join the fight before, meaning this was easily a new record for survival in this hellscape. On the other hand, shit.
"I definitely don't have the Dust for this!" Neon shrieked, activating her semblance to avoid a volley of cannon fire.
"Cover!" shouted Flynt, and he began to fall back, but the courtyard wasn't exactly rife with obstacles to hide behind, nothing at least that would stop Paladin main guns.
The statue was the best landmark. Ciel was a step behind Flynt in reaching it, only to find three other students sheltering there already.
"Ya know," said a short ginger with a grenade launcher, "I wish Pyrrha were here about now! She'd be really helpful dealing with those tin cans!"
That got Ciel's attention. "Where is Pyrrha?"
"Dunno," the ginger said as she grenaded an unsuspecting Beowolf, "she and Jaune went running off earlier—look out!"
Some combination of missiles and cannon fire turned the statue into flying gravel, with explosions and spalling tearing into the Auras of those hiding behind.
"Scatter!" yelled Flynt, and Ciel tried her best to obey, but as usual she was a step behind her peers-
An explosion near her feet sent her flying. Landing hurt more than it should have… oh, because her Aura was gone.
She felt the stomps as much as she heard them. Her vision still swimming, she rolled to her back. One of the Paladins was desperately close to her. No ammunition, so she'd have to get to her feet to fight, to swing Metronome-mace…
A fist attachment locked into place at the end of the Paladin's arm. Ciel raised Metronome to block, knowing she had no chance of success.
The fist fell, her guard broke, and—
Bright!
Ciel's hands flared to either side and she staggered to a halt.
"Miss Ciel?"
"Gimme a second, gimme…" Nope, trying to talk had been too ambitious, some vomit was able to escape. Not as much as usual, though. Partial success.
She was getting better.
"Are you alright, Miss Ciel?"
Ciel nodded as she collected herself. Yes, she was alright. She was. She'd learned a lot, she'd developed… why, if she kept at it like this, she'd be in decent position in… who knew, thirty loops or so?
Perspective was a wild thing.
"Just nerves," she said as she opened her eyes and turned to face Penny. She tasted bile. "I'll go clean myself up, I'll be right back."
"Of course," said Penny.
Ciel took several steps forwards, headed for the bathroom, and found nothing but a blank stretch of wall.
"What…" she began, but she couldn't put the feeling to words. Something was wrong.
"Um, Miss Ciel?" came Penny's tentative voice. "The bathroom is… back there."
The sense of wrongness was renewed. Ciel turned and looked and saw that what Penny said was right, but it also felt wrong, and Ciel wasn't sure why.
The rest of her stomach emptied.
Cleanup took longer than usual.
Next time: Glass and Flame
