Pyrrha was learning to walk again.
It was a difficult process, her new limbs often refused to work the way she wanted them to. Sometimes without warning, they would decide to give out entirely. On those days she would be left collapsed on the floor, often waiting hours until any sense of feeling returned. But she was determined, and Pyrrha had always been a stubborn girl. Any form of control while in captivity was like a lifeline to her; even if it was just being able to stand on her own two feet.
Her cell had no bars, the laboratory door was always unlocked. Regardless, it was still a prison. She tried to slip away exactly twice. The first time, she was confronted by a large man with a gruff voice. He had quietly guided her back to the laboratory, ignoring the many frustrated punches she threw his way. A few hours later he had returned and introduced himself as Hazel, awkwardly handing her a book before leaving. A quick glance at the cover revealed it to be a silly love story, the kind of thing adults presumed teenage girls to be into.
The second time, she wandered the many halls until she was lost. It was there, leaning against a wall and breathless from nothing but walking that she realized. They didn't care. In her current state, Pyrrha was nothing. Lack of aura left her constantly fatigued, and her semblance still showed no sign of returning. Doors were left unlocked because there was simply nowhere for her to go. The only hope she had was whatever escape attempt Emerald was planning, but the thief hadn't shown her face in days. Pyrrha was beginning to wonder if she had already left.
Several hours later she found her way back to the laboratory. The Atlesian man, Watts- was fiddling with something at the end of the room. He didn't even spare her a glance.
She sat on her cheap hospital bed and stared down at her feet. The Grimm parts of her body were as far as she could tell, beowolf. The new limbs left her at least a foot taller than she used to be, and the strange plating always clanked when she moved. Pyrrha ran her hands down the natural armor, feeling the rough edges beneath her palms. It was a hard surface, but still pliable. Scratching from her nails left sizable dents in the material- but it didn't hurt. Attempting the same process with darkened skin led to a dull feeling of pain. Nither wound bled.
She sighed and held her head in shaking hands. Where were her team? Did they even know she was alive? No, they wouldn't, why would they? Pyrrha had run headlong into a fight she couldn't win, and this was the price to be paid for her stupidity. Nobody would be searching for a dead girl. All that could be done was wait and hope that whatever destiny had in store wouldn't be too painful.
Manic laughter echoed through the corridor. Pyrrha tensed as it steadily approached, nothing good ever came from this place. Moments later there was a knock at the door, but it opened before anyone could answer. A pale faunus with an open jacket and scars across his chest clung to the doorframe. His eyes were wild and yellow, a terrifying grin split his face. A scorpion's tail swung by his feet as he stared around erratically for a second, then locked eyes with Pyrrha.
She froze, unable to look away. Insane cackling rang in her ears as he danced closer. The man smelt of death. Watts still didn't even look up from his work. Pyrrha acted on instinct, grabbing the nearest thing in arm's reach -an empty glass vial- and smashed it across the faunus's head. Blood poured down into his eyes, but that smile never left. Bits of shattered glass fell to the floor.
"Oh, you are a feisty one." His breath was hot against her trembling neck. Red dripped onto her lap. "But do not fight. For you have been chosen, chosen by our divine savior!"
Pyrrha tried to move back, but found her shoulders were held in a vice-like grip. She stared at him like a caught animal, terror gripping her just as this insane man did. "L-let me go."
The smile faded and he frowned, his erratic movements coming to a sudden halt. "Her grace has called, you must not keep her waiting!"
A fist slammed into her head, and suddenly everything was spinning. Pyrrha felt herself being pulled to her feet. She was still reeling from the blow when she was shoved, stumbling, out into the hall, then into another room.
She swayed, falling to her knees as the door closed behind her. A moment later the loud thunk of a latch was enough to jolt her into alertness. Pyrrha was in a wide chamber. Pillars extended up into a beautiful glass ceiling, sunlight shining through stained panels and casting color across the floor. In front of her was a throne made from the body of a tree, its ancient branches curled as if had grown in that shape from the very beginning.
Atop that throne was a woman. Although, perhaps woman was the wrong word. Red eyes regarded Pyrrha in deafening silence, the cold stare of this ghostly being peering through every barrier she put up. Black veins contrasted impossibly pale skin.
Pyrrha stood. There was a terrible weight in her chest, but she vowed to die fighting. Whatever torment she was subjected to, she would never betray her ideals as a huntress. Her back straightened and she squared her shoulders, willing herself not to flinch as she met this Queen's gaze.
A haunting, bitter laugh echoed throughout the chamber. The woman stood, her black dress flowing as she walked towards Pyrrha. "So brave.." She hummed as she reached out a hand, black fingernails grazing the underside of her chin. "For what it's worth, I am sorry Ozpin dragged you into this war."
Before the young huntress could even consider what that meant, she felt her body go numb. A presence took over, and suddenly Pyrrha Nikos was nothing more than a speck in an ocean of consciousness. She watched with mild disinterest as Salem's (how did she know that name?) body crumpled to the ground. New aura flooded through her, more than her human soul could handle. She felt herself being pushed into a tiny corner of her mind, oblivion closing in on all directions.
And then, there was a spark.
A tiny piece of stolen aura. A fraction of the Maiden's power, hidden so deep it was undetectable until the space was invaded.
But it was enough. The void recoiled, screaming from its exploding light. Pyrrha screamed too, the firey magic ripping her from the collective. She fell to her knees, feeling a sense of separation in her mind. That presence, that aura though. It never left. She felt it inside her, pushing at the barrier that had been created- desperate to merge with her soul.
She breathed. Long, shaky breaths as she tried to contain the bile that was quickly rising in her throat. The empty shell that lay before her crumbled to dust; whatever had been inside that body had a new home now. Her.
Pyrrha curled in on herself, the only sounds she made were the broken sobs of someone who had almost been erased. What was this? Surely, whatever she had done, she could not deserve this much pain.
"Poor child." She snapped her head up, looking around the empty chamber before realizing (horrified) that the voice came from her own mind. "No, you deserve none of this."
"So get out of my head!" Pyrrha screamed at nothing. She covered her ears in a vain attempt to silence the presence that had settled like a dead weight in her mind.
"I cannot do that."
"Please.." She trembled.
"I cannot."
"Then at least be quiet." Pyrrha snapped, standing up making her way to the huge doors. She rattled them once, feeling the thick metal bolt that held them shut. "They're locked."
"Not to you."
She frowned, "What do you mean?"
"Have you forgotten your semblance girl?" The voice sounded almost irritated, not that she cared how it felt.
"It's bl-" She paused. No, it wasn't. The sheer amount of aura surging through her body right now had overridden any blockers put in place. "Oh."
Pyrrha reached out a hand. She could feel it, the metal. There was so much of it, all throughout the building. With a practiced motion, she brought her arm back- pulling the metal towards her. But it wasn't just the bolt that moved, everything did. Every scrap of metal in a hundred-foot radius melted and flew towards her arm. The pieces acted like they were molten, but no heat radiated from the floating liquid she had brought to herself. The redhead stared at them, mesmerized.
The spell was broken a second later when the two now hingeless wooden doors crashed to the ground in front of her. Pyrrha jumped backwards in surprise, her concentration broken. The blobs of metal solidified and fell to the floor. "What was that?!"
"That my dear," Salem sounded smug. "Was power."