"Our reputation is on the line with this battle, zoi mou, you cannot fail - not here, not now."

"I know, mother," a small demure voice replied, "It just, my Semblance has been going haywire – what if I hurt someone or-"

"Pyrrha!"

"I'm sorry!"

The metallic changing rooms felt a deep chill wandering through it. Muted cheers erupt like an auditory volcano in the arena. Quiet one second and then deafening the next, rising to a crescendo and then falling to a trickle before the same nervous tension commands silence once more. Pyrrha kept glancing towards the door, waiting for the obnoxious announcer to reveal that it's her time to perform. The older woman she was with noticed and shook her head. Her chestnut locks shifted with the movement. Emerald eyes unloaded heavy judgement and expectations upon the 13-year-old, and her face scrunched in disappointment at the weak image her daughter gave off. Pyrrha's birth mother, Pandora Nikos, studied her red-haired spawn. Dressed in a gold-brown Northern Mistralian armour and greaves, with a golden circlet and red sash to finish the look off – one could mistake the teenager for a graceful warrior. And they wouldn't be wrong – but the unease she projected tainted that idea. Pandora refused to tolerate it.

She knelt to the younger Nikos' level and sighed, "From the moment I looked at you, Pyrrha, I knew I had birthed a being destined to be a warrior – a hero, even," She grasped her daughter's gloved hands, "I have worked hard to make sure your skills could match that destiny – your Mom spent hours during the night helping you succeed at school and crafting weapons for you – we have given all that we are to make you succeed, and you want to give up the opportunity we gave you?"

Shame-filled tears pricked Pyrrha's eyes as her mother stood to present the two infamous staples in her life.

"Ótan den ypárchei epilogí, me to spathí mou - Miló." Pandora handed her a triple-shift xiphos that bore swirling etched patterns on its red and gold surface, "Me tin aspída mou – Akoúo," then Pyrrha was handed a golden Dipylon-style shield "Wield them well, your Mom worked hard on them."

The teen studied the tools in her possession. The weight was just as heavy as the expectations.

"Yes, mother."

The older Nikos raised her hand and struggled to place a comforting hand upon her offspring before settling for a cough.

"Good luck."

Pandora marched away as Pyrrha watched, face locked in a permanent frown. Once the door slammed close, Pyrrha stumbled onto a bench - small autumn coloured speck occupying a gigantic room, but the moon shone on her. Chunks of the celestial rock spread from its main body, but the light still blinded her with its own judgment and so much more. Metal rattled in the space, getting louder. It sounded more terrified than cold. Nikos snapped her head around to look for the source, to get it to stop because the noise of anxiety was more than enough to deal with! She clenched her fists until her nails dug into the palm over the weapon, but she barely noticed. The only thing she is aware of is the sound of her heart throbbing against the cage of her chest and that bloody rattling. Indecipherable noise refused to silence themselves and filled her ears, louder and lou-

"Good evening, Mistral!"

A tidal wave of screams and cheers rose, almost deafening all that heard it. The rattling got louder.

"It has been one spectacular tournament this year, with Miss Pyrrha Nikos being one of the Championships' youngest finalists ever - simply incredible, wouldn't you agree?"

Nikos couldn't help a smile at the thought her Mom would be the loudest fan in the front seats, reminding everyone in the vicinity 'that's my baby!' and her mother being utterly embarrassed but too in love with her wife to tell her to stop.

"However, the young Nikos must take on the veteran champion, Heracles Olympium, if she wants a chance to gain the title of 'Mistral Regional Tournament Champion'!"

She doesn't but-

"It's time to bring our warriors out!"

A security guard with the dark shades, earpiece and all, opened the door.

"Time to go, Miss Nikos."

The girl stood, albeit awkwardly. She paused and looked at herself.

"Oh."

The rattling was from her.

The spotlight was a brilliant path through the dark sky as if a hundred million stars had joined up to make it - a bright dream beamed upon the stage as if the future already knew she would win, hitting her skin as if it were greeting her inner fire. People filled the stadium to the brim although, the Faunus took the least space in a thin strip surrounded by humans. Pyrrha walked onto the stage, a graceful and approachable façade fixed in place, and waved to the crowds. In response, the audience members competed with the cameras over who could grab her attention first. She paid them no mind as she saw her Mom, Tessa Nikos, screaming in the front seats as she predicted. For once, a genuine smile appeared as she looked at her red-haired parent linking hands with her sterner one, celebrating her success. Guilt pricked her heart before the audience's tone shifted at the arrival of Heracles.

He was a northerner like her, the armour style and darker skin tone proving as much. But one apparel of his made him stand out, the helmet-mask of a Chimera Lion Grimm. The cloak it came with was fake, but the bones were real. Those types of Grimm were rare and deadly in Mistral. The only way he could have recovered the mask is if he killed the beast with his bare hands. Everyone knew that he lacked a Semblance.

Looking at them as they flourished an iron club, Kounáo, Pyrrha didn't doubt that he could have.

Soldiers surrounded the arena (an age-old tradition of forbidding opponents from leaving combat). They slammed their foot-long spears into the ground three times before pointing it at Pyrrha and Heracles.

"Are you ready, little one?"

His voice possessed an unnatural gravitas. Ladies somewhere probably collapsed at the sound of it.

"As I'll ever be."

"Combatants!" The announcer interrupted, "Get ready!"

The younger one bared Akoúo in front of her. Miló poised to strike.

The titan stood still.

"Begin!"

[I suggest you listen to Mirror Mirror in this bit]

The younger warrior dashed forward - her blade in spear form. Heracles deflected it with the flick of his hand and brought Kounáo overhead. She rolled away with barely any moments to spare. The club cracked the platform a quake upsetting the stage and Pyrrha stumbled to keep balance. Her opponent wasted no time to swing his weapon, forcing the girl to raise her shield. She slid back to the edge of the arena. The soldiers stepped forward when she looked at them.

Pyrrha knew that in just those opening moments that she couldn't win this fight with her honour intact. Not without her Semblance. But there was too much to lose to admit defeat. She wouldn't dare with her mother watching.

She motioned her hands to add extra weight to Heracles' swing and threw Akoúo into his exposed side. Miló switched into a rifle as Olympium recovered and took potshots at him. Confused but not put off, the giant stomped towards Pyrrha, hardly reacting to the bullet barrage, and swung again. The rifle couldn't endure the attack, and Pyrrha fell to her knees. Pain rippled through her body when the man kicked her to the side. She backflipped into a stand with a spear in her hand and skidded over to pick up her aspis. There was stillness on both sides. If conflict were visible, the air would have been scarlet. Then movement. So much force in every blow. Perpetual fear stiffened the younger's movements. Speed and agility should have overwhelmed the formers brute strength. But she was watching. She was expecting.

"You cannot fail, Pyrrha."

"After all we've done for you, you want to give up?"

"Enough!"

She growled to herself and she leapt towards her opponent. Heracles stormed towards her, missing as knocked Kounáo off course. But as she moved, Akoúo slammed into the Grimm helmet – cracking it.

Pyrrha landed and looked on in shock.

Some spectators hissed in pity.

Herculean fingers caressed the damaged armour – his hairy face still.

Then a scream.

Seismic quakes rocked the stage as Heracles hunted Pyrrha. He lost all sense of control and awareness. Kounáo as his guide through the madness. The girl couldn't keep up.

Left.

Right.

Flip back.

Block.

Her body could only move so much.

And with one miscalculated jump, Pyrrha went flying across the arena.

Pain seared through her abdomen better than a branding iron, her mind conceded to the torment, unable to bring a thought to completion. The teen's body curled into something fetal, something primaeval, and agony burned and radiated in her. Her Aura did its duty, but that didn't stop the anguish of receiving the hit, which felt worse than any wound. Miló lay beside her, urging her forward. She gazed at the Aura indicators overhead.

20% for her, 23% for the brute.

Achieving a clutch win wasn't impossible, but she couldn't even stand; why she should bother?

Judgment. Honour. Reputation. Destiny. Pandora's rising disappointment.

It gave her all the incentive.

And her Mom.

Worried and so full of love and support.

How could she consider defeat for an instant? This was not a battle she had to win. But a battle to prevent loss for another day. Pyrrha knew what she had to do.

Heracles cooled off and kept his distance. Honour-bound to let his opponent recover. As Pyrrha limped into a stand, emerald eyes stared into aquamarine. Fingers clinging onto the weapons.

Two entered the arena that night.

Both on their last levels of Aura.

Only one can be the victor.

And Nikos made sure that the victor was her.

4 YEARS LATER

"… and with another fantastic win, I don't think there're any parents prouder on Remnant." Pandora stood in an Atlas coloured gown, champagne glass in one hand and holding her wife's in the other. A crowd of the 'great and powerful' stood similar chutes in their hands, in a sleek white living room, red tiles and golden lights and décor.

Tessa couldn't help herself, "To Pyrrha!"

"To Pyrrha!"

The girl in question remained humbled by the praise (by some god-given virtue). She bowed her head, but her genuine smile didn't last when her parents looked away. Allowing herself to be paraded around as an attraction for the gratification of her mother.

In fear of her now.

She was stuck in a dream, struggling to get back to reality. She screamed out for help, but nothing came out of her mouth as she sank deeper and deeper within a sea filled with her expectations. As she reached the bottom, she knew no-one was going to save her; no knight in shining armour, no Prince Charming. So, she zoned out, answering and greeting guests on autopilot, forgetting about the world. This loneliness and autonomy was a vice on her heart, squeezing with just enough pressure to be a constant pain. The reason she struggled to breathe when a new shock comes.

'Where is the limit? When comes the point at which I call the dogs off and be normal?'

As she sunk deeper into her existential crisis she heard "Pyrrha, if you have a moment?"

A lion Faunus male – smartly dressed, crowned with a full tan mane and beard. He stood beside another man, an aura of mystery about him. It was… unsettling. His metal-white, shaggy hair framed his face, bringing out his brown eyes behind his glasses. One was the youngest Hunter Academy Headmasters of his generation and the other the first Faunus Headmaster of Haven Academy: Professors Willis Ozpin and Leonardo Lionheart.

Exhausted and miserable, Pyrrha smiled as she walked over to the duo.

"How may I help you, sirs?"

"No need to be so formal, my dear, I was just telling my good friend that you would be an incredible student at Haven."

Ozpin hummed and swirled his coco, "Is that what you were doing?" He glanced at the teen with a sassy smirk, "I believe you were begging me not to-"

"I did no such thing; you have no proof!"

The Valian Headmaster chuckled into his cup before continuing "You never know, Miss Nikos here might want to go to Atlas Academy," He squinted at her a flicker of a grin popping up on his visage – his dark eyes, too old for his face, betraying his wise sage persona "From your mother's speech, I assume you plan to follow in her footsteps and perhaps join her in the army, sounds like a grand plan, does it not?"

The girl gasped.

'Join Mother in the army; follow in her footsteps?'

Dread owned her, pushing against her like an autumn gale. Grasping, scathing, freezing, slimy tendrils of pure fear ensnared her heart. It had Pyrrha's stomach locked uptight. Nothing getting in or out. Teeth locked together.

Pyrrha snapped back into reality, swallowing "W-well, Professors, I think-"

"-Like that is a marvellous idea!"

The Atlesian matriarch of the Nikos household placed a gloved hand on her spawn. Oz raised his brow at the great effort Pyrrha took not to flinch and correct visible flaws before her mother could point them out.

"I'm sure that the General would welcome her with open arms."

"If she doesn't pick Haven first; who wouldn't want an aspiring huntress like your daughter here?"

"Well, zoi mou will have her hands full this year with the application season."

Once again, the younger Nikos zoned out, a habit she developed when her mother mapped out her life without her consent or input. She backed away with a sigh and strolled out to the balcony.

Feeling the cool wind in her hair, Pyrrha sighed – defeated.

"It seems like Pandora has everything planned for you."

Too tired to be stunned by his sudden appearance, the girl hummed.

Ozpin studied her, "You don't seem too keen."

"I gave up fighting her years ago, Mom has too," she almost wiped her face before realising that she was wearing heavy amounts of makeup and would risk looking like a monstrous clown if she did so she shook her head "I've resigned to the fact that my future is her choice now – so much for a great destiny."

They stared at the pale ¾ shatter moon. Whispers carried on the wind and chatter from the party sung in the background. Oz fiddled with his jacket's inner pocket before whipping out a white envelope, the Beacon Academy/Kingdom of Vale insignia waxed onto the front. Nikos looked at the older man, wondering if his age was catching up to him.

"That doesn't have to remain the case, Miss-" he halted and smiled "Pyrrha; you have already performed feats beyond what any entrance exam I could have given you so…"

Cautious but intrigued, she took the envelope.

"… I look forward to seeing you at initiation; until then, Miss Nikos."

The Headmaster sipped his cup, flourished his cane and walked back into the party. A great weight lifted from her shoulders. She stood taller. Her presence lighter, more carefree. She noticed how the white light of the stars in the sea of midnight blue streamed, twinkled. Hardly a competitor for the light of the moon that eclipsed them, but they tried.

'Like I will.'

As she made her way to the exit, she broke into a run to her bedroom. A girlish grin spread onto her pale cheeks.