A/N: Well, here I am again. Late, as always these days. Once again, I'm sorry for the delay, but, well...
Life with one useable hand fucking sucks. I kinda get why Yang was so depressed after the end of Vol. 3 now. Everything is such a pain in the ass. Getting dressed, eating, showering, and writing... good god. I can't even type like this, I have to henpeck each and every key individually, using fucking capslock every time I want a capital letter because I can't reach my one working shift key and my keyboard at the same time. So that's why this is late. And if this is a bit more incoherent than usual, blame the painkillers I've spent practically the entire month hopped up on.
Anyway, here I am. Three days behind schedule, but better late than ever. Anyway, for anybody who cares to know life still sucks and money is tight right now. Forward relentlessly, moving on rentlessly...
Chapter Seventeen: Asserting Dominance
Well, that could have been worse. I mean, the Fallen could have spontaneously invented stellar-scale teleportation and warped into the middle of the classroom, or a Vex planet assimilator could have crashed into the school. Compared to that, detention isn't so bad. Just an hour of reading.
So why the hell do I feel so… ashamed? I'm the fucking Speaker, for the Traveler's sake. I shouldn't feel embarrassed about getting in trouble at a school for children.
"Wipe that slimy grin off your face." I snap, scowling at Jaune. Asshole. Of course, he fucking knew the answer. Bastard could at least stop rubbing it in.
"It was an easy question, Urs." He says breezily. "I mean, didn't you do the required reading last night?"
"He was too busy getting his ass kicked." Yang crows, slapping me on the back. Traitors, the lot of them.
"Hm," I grunt. Change the subject, now. "So…" I begin, "Ready for combat class?"
"Yes!" Ruby cheers. "Oh, it's going to be so cool! I'll finally get a chance to see everybody's weapons, and –" And it's time for me to stop listening, that's what. By the Traveler, this woman could give Oobleck a run for his money.
Ignoring the buzzing in my ears, I march down another endless corridor towards… somewhere. Honestly, who the fuck knows. Of course, the next class would be halfway across the school, as opposed to, I don't know, two doors down? No, that'd be insane. Building code states there has to be at least six empty rooms between each class. And a half-mile of hallway.
"…So that's why I'm so excited!" Ruby gasps, before tugging on a pair of doors. "Hey, we're here!" Finally. Only took us ten minutes to walk here. No wonder people are always late.
Pushing our way inside, Ruby and her team gravitate towards the large… arena, the classroom is built around. Honestly, it looks a little like a gladiator pit I'd seen in a Cabal firebase, where Legionaries would go to practice hand-to-hand fighting. For all the good it did them. Most Cabal are about as useful in melee as the Spider was. Too fat and slow. Psions, on the other hand, fucking cheat. They're fast, slippery, and have crazy mind powers. Truly, a dangerous combination.
Goodwitch steps up to a podium and introduces herself, yes, yes, deputy headmistress of Beacon, combat instructor, I've heard it all before initiation. Boring. Glancing over at the rest of the class, I can see their eyes similarly glazed over. Maybe the abomination's powers of boredom aren't a semblance, then. The entire school seems to be under a soporific spell. Perhaps the building itself is cursed? I should probably have Ghost scan the place again, or Traveler knows I'll end up stumbling onto some horrific ritual chamber where the staff sacrifice poor, unsuspecting students to the Grimm.
Honestly, I wouldn't even be surprised at this point. Everything else about this place has been so Traveler-damned retarded, I doubt I'd even bat an eye. Anyway, where was I? Right, back to mindlessly daydreaming.
"…Izanagi Urs." What? Did she just say my name? Craning my neck, I can see Goodwitch scowling at me.
"Sorry, could you repeat that?" I shout, arm raised.
Goodwitch huffs, annoyed. "Please try to pay more attention next time, Mr. Urs. In any case, you will be sparring with Pyrrha Nikos today, so that I can judge your skill level." Hm. On the surface, it seems legitimate. But I know Ozpin instructed her to keep an eye on me, mostly because I suggested it. Wouldn't have thought this is how she'd do it, but, whatever.
"Fine, then." I say, standing up and stretching. "So, how does this work?"
Goodwitch snaps back into 'teacher' mode, turning back towards the classroom. "Spars will last for no longer than five minutes, or until one combatant's Aura reaches the red…" Okay, same rules as the spar with Yang, but with a time limit to keep somebody from sandbagging the whole class. I can understand that. Too bad mine won't take a fraction of that time.
After all, I still owe Pyrrha one for initiation. And a Guardian always repays their debts.
"Good luck!" Pyrrha says, raising her shield. I can't help but scowl. What's with that attitude? From her, and everybody else. It's like her victory is a foregone conclusion. Maybe it's foolish pride, but it's fucking infuriating to be dismissed so easily, after all I've done. What's a teenaged girl compared to the monsters I've fought before? I can feel my already-inflamed temper rise with every cheer from the crowd.
"You may have been a big fish in a small pond," I say, stepping into the arena. "But I'm the largest Traveler-damned shark in the ocean. Surrender now," I snarl, leveling my sword at her, "I won't take it easy on you." Ominous, edgy pregame speech, check. Next up, mid-fight trash-talk.
Her eyes flash, as she adjusts her grip on her sword, but she says nothing. Both of us wait for the signal, bodies tensed. I can feel my muscles twitching in anticipation, adrenaline flooding my body.
With a sharp cry, Goodwitch brings her crop down, and we… just stand there, like idiots. Fucking amazing, we're both playing the 'no, you go first' game. By the Traveler. No, this is fine. So, we both clearly favor a defensive approach, at least when it comes to unknown enemies. All I need to do is bait her into attacking. But how? A sudden movement draws my gaze upwards, over her shoulder. Jaune, whispering something to Ruby and Weiss. Hm. Might be cheating, but who cares?
"Jaune!" I say, muting my external speakers and opening a channel to his Ghost. "I need you to make a disturbance on my mark. Shout something at me, whatever. Just give me a reason to be distracted."
He doesn't reply, he can't, in fact, without his helmet. But I can see his eyes lock onto me, and he nods his head slightly before standing up. I turn my gaze back to Pyrrha, as I slowly circle around the side of the arena. Pyrrha matches me, step for step, as I slowly maneuver myself until I have the audience at my back.
"Now." I whisper into my radio.
"BEAT HIS ASS, PYR!" I hear Jaune shout. "TAKE HIS FUCKING HEAD OFF!"
"Mr. Arc, language!" I hear Goodwitch yell.
I make a show of whipping my head around to stare at him. Maybe a little too obvious, but it gets the job done. On my helmet cameras, I can see Pyrrha's form blur into motion the moment I move. Springing forwards, she brings her sword around for a blindingly fast slash, shield raised to ward off a potential counterblow.
It doesn't do her any good. With the prenatural grace of a Hunter, I lean under the blow as I flip backward, putting several meters between us and landing in a crouch. I take a knee, pausing for a single beat as I pretend to recover. Pyrrha takes the bait again, leaping forwards again to keep up the pressure. Too easy.
In a single, fluid motion, I surge to my feet, using the momentum of my rise to fuel the strike. Phoenix Uppercut activates, Raze-Lighter bursting into flames as it carves through Pyrrha's armor and sparks off her Aura. I complete the arc of my slash, bleeding off the excess momentum and bringing Raze-Lighter back into guard. I hardly need to, however. The force of the blow was enough to throw Pyrrha completely off her feet, nearly to the other side of the arena. She unsteadily rises to her feet, one hand probing the ragged gash in her armor. A quick glance at the meters over her head shows her shields at just over 50% from that blow alone.
"Hm." I snort. "I thought you'd have more fight than this." I didn't, honestly. Unlike my spar with Yang, I've decided to bring out the big guns right from the start. Skilled as she might be, I have the advantage of overwhelming speed and better equipment. She can't dodge my strikes, and given how easily her armor folded to it, her weapons wouldn't survive an attempt at blocking my Phoenix Uppercut. Metallurgy on this planet must have regressed significantly, any decent nanomaterial would stand up better than that.
Regardless, she doesn't give up, instead settling into a new stance. Shield raised, sword held close to the body, ready to be used to deflect any attack to her exposed side. Taking me seriously, I see. Pyrrha must be feeling cautious after that first exchange.
Once again, it won't do her any good. Swinging my sword up into the air, I can see her tense as she braces for an attack. With a grin, I complete the motion by simply sheathing it on my back. I nearly burst out laughing from how flabbergasted she looks – nearly. Instead, I thrust my hand up towards the ceiling, as Solar Light bursts out of me, coalescing into the form of a golden hand cannon.
Drawing back, I aim my sights at center mass – she's fast enough that I don't dare try for a headshot, and one might kill her outright, which would be unfortunate. As much as I dislike her, she clearly doesn't deserve to die. She bursts forwards, desperate to close the gap. Smart girl, but I'm ready for her. Pulling the trigger, a beam of golden-orange light streaks towards her. She manages to bring her shield up, but the shot just melts a hole through the metal and punches straight into her sternum.
Pyrrha flinches, dropping the shield as red-hot drops of metal splash onto her forearm. Her shields hold though, sitting at 25%. Still, a shot like that would have dropped a Guardian easily, especially at this range. I open my hand, letting the Golden Gun fade away – too risky to try another shot at this point.
Instead, I flick my wrist, sending a golden knife spinning towards her head. Pyrrha ducks, letting it soar harmlessly over her. It's too late, though – the half-second it took is more than enough for me to close the gap, leaping over her. This close, I can see her eyes widen as she tries to bring her guard up.
"DYNAMIC ENTRY!" I scream, as my boot makes contact with her forehead. The Bones of Eao jingle as she flies backward, head colliding against the ground with a sickening crack. 20%. Five to go. Maybe I should have gone Titan, I probably would have finished her off with that move alone.
She climbs to her feet once again, one hand clutching her forehead while the other shakily holds her sword in front of her. As I draw close, she launches into a flurry of quick swipes. No technique, just a desperate attempt to ward me off. Looking into her eyes, I can see genuine fear – whether of me or something else entirely, I don't know.
I reach out with my left hand, slapping aside the blade with my gauntlet as I step into her guard. Her sword skitters off the steel wrapped around my forearm. Unlike Yang, her weapon relies on slashing and penetrating, and even Hunter armor is too resilient for the fragile metals of this world. She lashes out with her offhand, but without any space to wind up, her blow barely manages to chip my shields. I punish the attempt anyway, trapping her arm at my side and seizing the handle of her sword.
Before I can even attempt to rip it out of her grasp, I feel… strange. My HUD glitches, colors scrambled as the screen dissolves into static. I can feel myself rise into the air and fly away from her, almost like I'm being dragged away by my armor. A second later, my viewscreen stabilizes, and I see myself midair, careening out of the ring. A flash of her face appears out of the corner of my vision, and I can see her expression – shocked, afraid, and most infuriatingly of all, relieved.
The Bones of Eao rustle again, as I simply spin around and jump off nothing, landing back inside the arena. "Didn't think it'd be that simple, did you?" I taunt, flinging my arms out to the sides. "I said I wasn't going to make it easy."
Her expression, once a mix of confusion and frustration, morphs into quiet anger at my words. Reaching out, her sword and shield both fly back into her hands as though by magic. "Then I won't, either!" She yells, before raising both arms.
I freeze as my armor seems to clamp down on my limbs, trying to drag me backward out of the ring. I strain with all my might not to simply topple over. Raze-Lighter rips itself free from its sheath, before flying out of the arena. My visor beings to glitch and freeze once again. "GHOST!" I yell. "Engage protocol, social zone!"
With a hiss, the pressure seals on my helmet pop, before the whole unit disappears in a flash of light. Rapidly, the rest of my armor follows suit, leaving me clad in only my matte black voidsuit. The pressure vanishes immediately as my armor disappears; whatever ability she was using to restrain it unable to affect my voidsuit.
Pyrrha stumbles slightly, visibly exhausted from the effort. She stares blankly at me, uncomprehending. "What?" She mutters. "How…?" I can hear the rest of the students in the room whispering to each other as well, seemingly ignoring Goodwitch's strident cries for silence.
"Space magic." I say, grinning widely. Before she can even reply, I snap my left hand forwards, slinging a tripmine grenade at her feet. She stares at it for a moment, and the laser emitter flashes and beeps once.
She has the presence of mind to launch herself backward, away from the grenade, which probably saves her life. As it is, the blast is strong enough to knock her the rest of the way out of the ring while finally breaking her shields. She collapses immediately, her chest rising and falling rapidly. As the Aura meter wails, the entire room breaks out into a confusing mess of yelling and random chatter.
"Victory by Aura exhaustion, Izanagi Urs!" Goodwitch calls, silencing the crowd. "Mr. Arc, please escort your partner to the infirmary for a physical examination. You will both be excused from your next lesson."
Jaune rushes down the stairs, giving me an unreadable look before trying to get Pyrrha to stand. She mumbles something unintelligible before slumping back against the floor. Grimacing, he awkwardly tries to figure out how to pick her up, before giving up and slinging her into a fireman's carry.
I watch him stumble awkwardly out of the room. Poor bastard probably has no idea where the infirmary is. Maybe Oh will take pity on him and give him a nav point. A sharp cough from Goodwitch brings my attention back to the class.
"Mr. Urs." She says, glacially. "As you seem to have a solid grasp of your semblance, I would suggest you focus on your swordsmanship. Your stance is ridiculous and your sword form unbalanced. A solid performance, but this is not an exhibition match. Flashy techniques and light shows will fare you poorly against the Grimm."
I bite back my urge to point out the sheer hypocrisy of that statement, given her own peculiar choice of weapon, but I really don't need more detention right now. Letting Goodwitch rant on about how shitty my form is, need to practice more, have I ever even blah blah blah. Tuning her out, I cast a curious glance at the audience. A lot of them have left their seats to chat with each other, and I can see the telltale flash of pre-Golden Age photography. Goodwitch doesn't notice, too focused on tearing me a new one for some reason. Yes, yes, I get it. Clearly, I have no skill and my victory was a fluke. Can I leave now?
Finally, she breaks off her tirade, eyes flashing as she points her crop at me. "So, I will see you in my office at six PM sharp, Mr. Urs." Wait, what? Are you fucking kidding me?
"Wait, you're giving me detention for winning?" I say incredulously.
"Yes."
That's… it's bullshit, but can I even argue? They already don't particularly want me here, so pushing back will get me the boot faster than the first Dreg of the strike. Better just to buckle down and deal with it.
"Traveler." I sigh. "The things I do for you…"
A/N: Quick update, but I just wanted to let you know that the weird, short-chapters-at-random-points-in-the-week thing will probably continue for the next... well, it'll be a while. Poor humans like myself aren't quick to heal broken bones. So while I beg for your patience and understanding, this is a difficult point in my life and writing has frankly slipped to the bottom of the 'shit I need to do' queue. The story will continue for anybody who cares enough to read it, but updates every Monday on the dot are going to be difficult, even if I'm working less.