(A/N) *Checks date* Oopsie woopsie. I made a fucky wucky UwU.

Lol seriously tho, I blame exams. On the bright side, no more exams.

It was brought to my attention that the upload before last might have gone unseen by some because I uploaded the next chapter just a little while later. If you're unaware of the "interlude" chapter, it's there. Seriously, I called it an interlude but it's the lead-in for the first arc of the story. I don't know how legible the stuff after it is if you haven't read it, but I can't imagine the answer is "very".

Again, sorry for taking over a month to update.

Anyway, here we are. The competitors gather themselves, and the tournament of power is almost underway! Can Jaune or Pyrrha beat Jiren?

Find out next time, on...

Nevermind.

XX

The two program anchors –a man and a woman– sat across from each other at a sleek, circular table. A large screen behind them displayed the stylized channel name, Mistral Live, with Dorothy and Morado.

The man, referencing a printed sheet in front of him on the table, spoke, "Event insider Andrew Wojnarov posted the final bracket just minutes after the slightly-behind Vacuo conference was decided. What's your takeaway, Dory?"

The digital Mistral Live lettering disappeared with a quick transition. A simple two-round bracket took its place on the digital display.

First Round

Vale vs Mistral

Vacuo vs Atlas

The woman got up from her seat and slapped the electronic board theatrically. "There's nothing to say, Mory. This name right here changes everything. It means there won't be much of a competition either way."

The man sighed. "Yes, Pyrrha Nikos is a very good–"

"Very good?" she repeated incredulously, as if she were in awe of the magnitude of the understatement. "Nebula Violette is very good. Ciel Soleil is very good. Arslan Altan, who's also on the Mistral team, is very good. Pyrrha Nikos, on the other hand, is head and shoulders above everyone in this competition. She's one of the best professional fighters in the world. You're asking a bunch of school kids –huntsmen in training as they may be– to go up against the girl who threepeated at the MRT. That's rough."

Mory looked at his co-host amusedly. "I guess I don't have to ask who you favour in the first round, then."

Dory scoffed. "The only remaining question is whether it'll be a clean sweep or not. Vacuo can't beat Atlas–"

"Agreed. Nebula Violette has a pretty solid record with a plus-eight hundred winning percentage over three years. Unfortunately, she doesn't have much help on her end. Up against another great Atlas team, with Flynt Coal, Cobalt Blue, and Ciel Soleil as their lock? Not a chance."

"–and frankly, I feel bad for Vale," she finished, content to let the man fill in the blanks.

He didn't want to take her words at face value alone, though. "Why is that? We haven't seen much of them until this year, but Yang Xiao Long and Jaune Arc have been nothing short of fantastic in their conference. They have yet to lose a match, actually." He had to double-check his notes to make sure that was right.

Dory shook her head. "I don't deny that, but the two of them won't come away with two wins. They're the only sixth-years on the team. The others simply can't keep up. Altan and Ayana –who I'll bet will be playing that match for Mistral– are top-of-the-line competitors. If Vale isn't careful, they won't even get a lock match out of the whole thing."

"Let's say they do. What then?"

The woman crossed her arms, finally choosing to sit back down. "Nothing. Jaune Arc is not beating Pyrrha Nikos. End of story. It's not even remotely possible."

XX

Jaune frowned at the livestream on his scroll before deciding it would do nothing more than psych him out. He put it away and chose to wait for the rest of his team in silence.

Everyone from Vale was already here, so Taiyang had scheduled practice days for them. They were able to rent out Keii Colosseum for that purpose– a right shared with the other two visiting teams.

He was the first to arrive, and the only one so far. Not to say that they were late– he was just early.

About thirty minutes early.

Was he nervous about the match? Maybe a little. There was a lot of pressure on him to win.

Not from the general public, though. In fact, they expected him to lose. Pyrrha had it much worse than him in that regard. Even his own team wouldn't mind terribly if he lost, since they weren't all that competitive, to begin with.

Yang excluded, of course.

No, the pressure was entirely self-imposed. He could still remember the day he told his father that he'd be the best. Would the man be angry if he didn't reach that goal? Honestly? Probably not. He wanted his son to be the strongest he could be, not win some televised event.

Still, that didn't matter. If he lost, then it would mean his resolve was only good enough to make it to a first-round exit. It would mean that his promises to his late sister were nothing more than empty boasts.

He couldn't have that.

A hand slapped him on the back, startling him. "Hey."

"Wha– oh. Hey, Yang."

The girl propped her hands on her hips and soaked in their surroundings. She whistled. "Fancy place. Pretty nice of them to let us use the actual arena for practice."

Jaune shrugged. "Sure, but it's not like Mistral would try to stop the competition from staying in shape. They've got a fancy training facility all to themselves, so I'm pretty sure they still have the upper hand here."

She eyed him. "Do they, now?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I was working out with Pyrrha a little while ago, so she showed me around. Really high-spec equipment. Didn't know how to use most of it."

His fellow blonde had him in a headlock faster than he could react. "Fraternising with the enemy!? Explain yourself!"

"What do you mean, 'enemy'? She's my friend!" he squawked.

Yang's grip tightened. "Treason! Mutiny!"

"How can that possibly be–"

She removed herself from his person and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders. Their eyes met, and Jaune could see the intense fire in hers. "Listen. The walk over from the hotel was fifteen minutes. In that time, I feel as though I overheard at least half the city talk about how the Sanctum kids are gonna wipe our asses with the back end of a sponge. I will not be disrespected like that."

Slowly, Jaune raised his hand to her wrist in an attempt to get her to let go. Just like that, her arms shot back down to her sides.

"It's not a great feeling, is it?" asked the Arc boy.

A reluctant nod was as much as she was willing to entertain the question, though she seemed to relax a little. "….So you really do know the invincible girl, huh?"

He looked at her strangely. " That's what I've been saying."

"It's just, you know…"

"Hard to believe?" he offered with an amused quirk of the eyebrow.

"Yeah, that," she admitted. Pyrrha Nikos was such a high-profile individual that she would've had an easier time wrapping her head around it if he'd told her he was best buds with Spruce Willis instead.

Jaune felt the need to paint the Mistralian girl in a better light. "I'm sure you'd get along if you met her. She's a very nice person."

It didn't have the intended result, however. Yang's frown deepened, and she flinched. "Yeah."

"Is something wrong?"

The blonde girl's shoulders slumped, but she didn't give him a straight answer. "It's nothing."

Jaune wasn't convinced, but didn't pry further. He trusted that his friend would share her feelings if she felt it was necessary.

"So… where's your dad? I would've thought he was coming with you, since –you know– he's our coach."

The change in topic was appreciated, if the sudden shift in her mood was any indication. "Bah. He was too slow getting ready, so I went ahead."

Jaune checked his scroll for the time. "But… we still have fifteen minutes?"

A shrug. "Whatevs. That's fifteen minutes that we'll be spending on warmups. Let's go in."

She dragged him into the building by the side of his collar.

It didn't make much sense that Yang would be ready to leave before her father. Tai was a generally low-maintenance individual who could wake up and be out the door in less than ten minutes. Yang? Not so much.

She'd been out of character this morning. Something was wrong.

"You're nervous too, right?"

Her feet were suddenly planted under her. She didn't turn around, so he couldn't get a read on her expression. "Maybe."

He tapped his knuckles on the side of her head.

She whipped around. "Hey!"

"Let's win this thing."

She stood there and stared for a moment.

"…Yeah."

XX

With the whole team gathered in front of him, Taiyang Xiao Long clapped his hands encouragingly. "Congratulations everyone, we made it. Signal hasn't been to this stage in over twenty years. Be proud."

The five competitors smiled back. Yang added a quick "Damn straight!"

While he appreciated her enthusiasm, he should remind her to be mindful of her language later.

Close by, in the first row of the empty stands, his youngest jumped to her feet. "You guys are awesome! Don't worry, we'll be back next year too! You'll have me, after all," she announced, her words of encouragement being more of a boast than anything.

The man shook his head. At least neither of his daughters lacked in confidence. "Will we, now? Let's see if you can finish making your weapon in time."

A scarlet blush ran up Ruby's cheeks. "Phooey! My baby is going to be a masterpiece! You can't rush art, dad!"

He chuckled. She was right, he supposed. That scythe she was trying to make was definitely an ambitious project, which was why the teaching staff gave her an extension. Nevertheless, she didn't have a weapon yet, so she couldn't compete this year. She was definitely a marvel in combat training, however, so he fully believed Signal could make it back to the World Tournament at some point in the near future.

Mocha, who stood next to him, crossed her arms with a huff. "You're not done yet, though! The first-round match is with Mistral; they're the favourites to win the whole thing. Did you all watch the tapes I sent you?"

Yang rolled her eyes. "Yes, we watched the tapes. Pyrrha's a bigshot. We get it."

"Don't worry about Pyrrha Nikos! That's Jaune's problem," she chided, pointing at the blonde boy who shuffled on his feet awkwardly after being singled out. "There are four other people on that team, you know. Did you see the–"

"Spreadsheets? Wouldn't miss 'em," was the blonde's dry reply.

Mocha was nothing if not meticulous. The girl went through most, if not all the footage she could get on the team's opponents before every match, and documented what she felt was important to remember. From there, she made measured guesses on who could fight who, and even put together some basic statistics such as wining percentages and matchup tendencies. All in all, it was something the coach should be doing, but Taiyang had long since accepted that she could do a much better job.

She wasn't much of a fighter, but there wasn't a doubt in anyone's mind that she had a bright career ahead of her.

Mocha nodded, ignoring Yang's flippant attitude. "Good. Then let's talk strategy."

Tai took it from there. "Our best bet is to go for the sweep– if we win the first two matches, then we won't even have to worry about the invincible girl. Mistral realizes that this is what most of their opponents go for, though, so expect nothing short of their best fighters the whole way through. They'll probably put Sage Ayana up first as a power move, and have Arslan Altan as the second-rounder to clean up in case Ayana can't win. Getting past either of them will be tough– especially Altan, since she was one hell of a lock before Nikos joined the team."

He placed his hands on Zhang's shoulder. "You're going to fight the first match."

The boy blinked. "Me?"

It was Mocha who explained, "Sage Ayana is strong and explosive. His losses are usually a result of someone out-speeding him, but that's easier said than done. If anyone can do it, it's you, though you'll have to be careful to not let him land a blow on you."

"Yang," her father addressed her, "you've got Arslan Altan."

She grinned and smashed her fists together. "Gotcha. I hear she packs a punch, so I'll have to show everyone that I pack an even bigger punch."

Mocha went on to run the team through hypotheticals while Tai pulled Jaune to the side. "Look. There's a real possibility that we won't be able to take both matches, and you'll probably have to go up against Pyrrha Nikos."

The boy smiled in response. "I understand. I'm ready."

"I just want you to know, no-one will hold it against you if you lose. There's a reason they call her the invincible girl. We're all proud of you, and we couldn't have made it this far without you. Just do your best, and don't worry about anything else."

"Oh… okay."

The man slapped him on the shoulder encouragingly. "Okay. I want you to focus on sparring with Zhang today. You're similar enough to what he should expect from his opponent, so the more he can get used to fighting you, the better his odds."

"Got it," he agreed easily.

He walked off towards Amethyst and Taka– likely to give them their own instructions.

Despite himself, Jaune clenched his fists.

…No one expected him to win, right? No one would hold it against him if he lost, since that's what was going to happen either way.

What a terrible feeling.

A deep breath. He slapped himself on the cheeks.

"None of that," he whispered to himself, forcing his body to relax.

If no-one thought that he could do this, then he'd have to prove them wrong.

XX

Their session progressed smoothly. Jaune didn't even realize their booked time was up until the Atlas coach came in and kindly asked them to leave.

Yang wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. "Well, then! Shower time."

"Wrap it up, everyone," her father spoke to them. "Get some rest. We'll have one more practice the day after tomorrow, then I want you all to focus your efforts on staying healthy until the first day of the tournament."

He received a chorus of agreement in return. As they moved out to make room for the incoming Atlas team, Yang herded Mocha and Jaune.

"You know, I'd ask you two if you'd want to hang out tonight, but I'm spent."

The brunette nodded sympathetically. "I know what I'm doing tonight. My parents let sis loose on the city, so it'll probably be up to me to drag her back home before sundown."

"Not fun."

"Terrible."

"I know, right!?" she cried pitifully. "She'd always beg mom to let her stay home alone whenever we went on family vacations. Why the sudden change of heart now?"

Jaune shrugged. "Maybe she wants to be here for moral support?"

"…"

"…"

"Sorry. Silly me."

"And you, Jaune?" asked Yang. "You've got like, what, six sisters with you back in the hotel? I can't imagine that's any better than having to deal with Coco."

He shook his head with a smile. "No, they can be rowdy sometimes, but they're well behaved for the most part– at least when we're on trips where we can't get away from each other. I'd say my night's going to be fairly easygoing."

"Smooth and uneventful? Luck you."

He laughed. "Yeah, lucky– hm?"

His scroll buzzed.

"What is it?" asked Mocha.

Jaune took a moment to read the text he received from his mother.

"Thetis and Pyrrha are joining us for dinner tonight. Will you be home soon?"

"Ah. My mom just wanted to know how long I'd be. We're meeting up with Pyrrha's family again later."

Just like Yang earlier, it was Mocha's turn to act up. "I know you said you knew each other, but it's just… strange to think about. She's our biggest hurdle, and yet you two are having a family get-together with the tournament right around the corner."

He could see where they were coming from, in a way. They would be fighting each other soon, and he was acting as if it wasn't a big deal.

And yet, the contrary was true. This was a big deal. He had to beat Pyrrha, for his own peace of mind if nothing else.

Pyrrha didn't think that way, not that they knew that.

If I win, then I win; if I lose, then all that really happens is that I lose. People will be mad, disappointed, all of that… but no matter the outcome, this is just entertainment. Nothing more.

It made him angry to be on the receiving end of that way of thought. It sucked that she probably wasn't thinking about the match anywhere near as much as he was.

It was for the same reason that he couldn't bring himself to be angry at her. She was an absolutely pleasant human being, and her ability to look past their imminent confrontation shouldn't be held against her.

"Don't think too much of it. Trust me, no one wants to beat her more than I do."

They seemed to accept that easily enough.

"If you say so. Just remember to give her hell," was Yang's eventual half-joking reply.

Mocha nodded sagely. "Yeah! Gotta get in the zone when the time comes. Your adulterous relationship with this woman will have to be put behind you if you want to come out on top."

…

"Adulterous?" was all that Jaune could say. Yang was equally confused, though she had a bad feeling about where this was heading.

"Hn. Poor Yang will feel like you don't love her anymore if you keep cheating on her with other– hmf!"

Yang's arm caught Mocha in the throat with a quick and efficient lariat, grounding her instantly. "Would you quit it with those shitty jokes already? No one's laughin'!"

Mocha was laughing. Very much so.

"Ahem."

The trio turned their attention to the fourth voice. They were met with the dispassionate glare of a beret-wearing dark-skinned girl. "You three have overstayed your welcome by thirty-three seconds. Please leave, so that our team may commence our practice."

"Oh. Yeah."

"Our bad. Sorry!"

"Good luck!"

Their words were ignored. The girl huffed, spun around, and walked back to her team.

Jaune felt the need to leave her with different parting words, "If we meet up next round, let's have a good match!"

She stopped. Without turning, she answered laconically, "As if you'd make it that far."

The three didn't know how to react to the statement.

Well, two of them didn't.

"Bitch," growled Yang.

XX

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Someone let them in!" called Isabelle from another room of the suite.

Jaune was quick to realize that "someone" was going to be him, as he was the closest to the door and neither his father nor his sisters were making any move to stop whatever they were occupying themselves with. With a slightly hurried step so as not to keep their guests waiting, he shuffled his way towards the entrance.

"Welcome," was the simple greeting he settled on as he opened the door.

Pyrrha Nikos smiled at him with a wave of her hand. Jaune returned the gesture easily. She was well-dressed as always, though this time her wardrobe allowed her to escape with a simple red pencil dress.

Relatively simple, at least.

"Good evening, Jaune," spoke Thetis from behind her daughter. She wore fitted jeans and a turtleneck: nice, doubtlessly, but much more normal apparel compared to the younger of the two.

The pair was ushered in, and the rest of the Arc family had them settled shortly. They all sat around a long table with Jacques at the head. Only Isabelle and Saphron were missing.

"It was kind of you to have us over tonight," Thetis thanked them with a polite nod in Jacques' direction.

He grinned. "Think nothing of it. You've been treating us often these past two weeks; it's about time that we returned the favour."

And it was true. The Arc family often found themselves in the company of the two women during their stay. Thetis had brought them all to all sorts of local hotspots, be it a restaurant or a historical landmark. Even when Pyrrha and Jaune were busy training with their respective teams, the woman would spend time with the rest of the family.

They got along swimmingly, so to say.

Isabelle and her daughter joined them with two large roasts in hand. "We're less than a week away from the main event now. Do you two feel prepared?"

Jaune and Pyrrha both answered her with a smile.

"Certainly."

"Very much."

Garnet, ever the shit disturber, patted her little brother on the back. "So, think you can win or nah?"

A silence engulfed the table. No one knew what to say.

Jaune was looking straight at his soon-to-be adversary. He was looking for something, not that anyone knew what that something was.

She was staring right back.

Hah. He was wrong, then. How relieving.

He broke the tension first. His blank expression slowly melting into a good-natured smirk, he looked Pyrrha right in the eyes. "You bet."

To the Arc sisters' surprise, she matched it with a simper of her own. "Oh? I'd love to see you try."

Known only to them, they understood each other a little better that day.

XX

A cloaked woman rode through the forest on horseback. Tapping her mount gently on the side, she urged it to slow down.

"So this is the place, then."

There wasn't much in front of her– quite the opposite, really. No trees no grass, nothing. Just a wide clearing of dead earth.

She had been trying to convince the professor to give her directions for the longest time, but he had always refused until just recently. He kept prattling on about how it was too risky for her to go alone, and that they couldn't afford to lose her.

Not that she cared.

This was something she had to do. Her partner –her best friend– died, and she wasn't there for her. Why would she be? Her partner wasn't in any danger. She was on a simple relief mission. If her little brother was allowed to go with her, it couldn't have been anything more than that.

And yet, she died anyway.

It wasn't a freak accident. It couldn't have been. She wouldn't believe it. That's why she had spent the last few years of her life trying to understand what had really happened.

She could admit, albeit regretfully, that her efforts had taken over her life. She didn't keep in touch with her old team –what was left of it, at least– and she hadn't been able to look after her partner's family when she passed. The father was a respected huntsman in his own right, and had handled the situation admirably, as she understood it, but that didn't lessen the sense of obligation that ate away at her.

Maybe one day, once she could leave behind her regrets. Once she learned the truth. Only then could she face them and look them in the eye.

She got off the horse, crouching down to run her fingers through the dirt.

"It is burnt. Was there really a town here? There's no rubble."

Towns were lost frequently to the grimm. Whether the people escaped or perished along with it, the sights were usually similar. Collapsed houses, remnants of destroyed properties, and the like.

Ruins, in a word.

But there was none of that. It was as if everything simply… disappeared.