Jaune woke with his hands wrapped around Pyrrha's throat.

"Kill her, kill her, kill her," god demanded of him and he obeyed his god.

His thumbs found the bulge of her trachea and he pressed down. He met Pyrrha's wide eyes with a snarl. Her panic only inspired him to squeeze harder.

"Kill her, kill her."

He couldn't feel her fist on his side or her body thrashing under his; his world had shrunk until it contained just his hands and her throat. Every second that passed was one where he came closer to appeasing god. Their voice was all consuming. Their will absolute.

They wanted one thing from him, and he would give it to them. Pyrrha no longer drew in ragged breaths, her fingers still weakly scratched at his hands, at his face. It didn't matter. Blood vessels ruptured in her eyes painting her sclera crimson. The blue of her cheeks indicated just how close he was. His weight smothered her until the springs of the mattress had no more give. A string of saliva from his rictus mouth fell to her brow.

His hands were ripped from her as his body lurched towards the ceiling. He hit hard, cracking the plaster, and tumbled back to the bed. He immediately scrambled back towards Pyrrha intent on only one thing.

He wasn't allowed to fulfil his desire. For the second time a great invisible hand picked him up and tossed him away. This time he was thrown laterally across the room, slamming into the wall near the door. His head bounced from the brick.

God was replaced by stars. It was an immeasurable improvement. When they'd cleared he saw Pyrrha on the bed. Her shift was torn and hanging from a shoulder. She held one hand towards him defensively, the other left protecting her throat. It didn't hide the dark bruises had already blossomed.

He rolled to his knees and she flinched. The instinctive reaction tore him in two. Mostly because he knew it was entirely deserved.

"It's me." He made sure not to move. Not to terrify her any more than he already had.

It was clear she had a hard time believing him. He didn't blame her. This wasn't the first time he'd tried to kill her, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

"I'm sorry." It was a hopeless apology. Nothing he said could ever make up the actions that were ultimately his own.

Pyrrha tried to drag down a deep breath, the rasping in her throat ripped at his ears. After what seemed an age she relaxed from her defensive posture, sitting back on the bed. The sight of her there ̶ ̶ legs drawn up to her chest, eyes running, nightgown ruined, bruises livid on her skin ̶ ̶ was one which caused the guilt to rear up inside of him. She did not appear to be a proud huntress, rather the victim of abuse. In reality she was.

For the hundredth time Jaune considered just leaving. Even a solution as drastic as that had to be better than this. He was destroying her; both of them. His experience could never compare to hers; he couldn't imagine what it was like to wake struggling for breath with hands intent on crushing the life out you, but it was hard on him as well. He had to live with the knowledge of what he'd tried to do. What, in those particular moments, he'd wanted with all his heart.

It would have been easier to just leave. Even just to disappear. Pyrrha could have gotten on with her life, and he could have tried to make the most of his second chance. He'd even voiced his thoughts and Pyrrha had always shut them down. She didn't want him to leave her again, no matter what he did to her.

Just as she didn't want him to leave now. He could see it in her eyes. They might have been red with burst vessels, but the colour didn't hide the almost bottomless pit of desperation within them. She needed him. He moved towards her as she started coughing. He couldn't quite bring himself to move into arm's reach, but he came to a stop beside the bed.

Blood sprayed onto the white sheets. It was too much. Jaune reached inside himself. He could feel himself there, the essence of his being, his soul. He'd watched Pyrrha die before and in that moment he'd changed. He'd Snapped as many referred to it. The gates of his Semblance had been unlocked.

It wasn't a flashy one ̶ ̶ some would have been disappointed with it, he wasn't though ̶ ̶ it had allowed him to save the woman he'd loved. He'd brought her back from the brink, and had been willing to sacrifice himself to do it. When he healed someone with his Semblance he pushed his Aura, his soul, inside of them. Working in tandem, they could heal wounds in a literal flash. But back in Vale he hadn't left any of his soul in reserve. He'd had a singular goal that had consumed him and had ultimately broken the bonds he'd held to his own body. Offered the chance, even knowing everything that would happen, he'd do it again. The mathematics of that particular equation had been easy to solve.

Now though, he had a little more finesse. He knew how to anchor his soul while he poured part of it away. In his time spent in the agony of purgatory he'd had plenty of time to practice. There was no way Pyrrha would have been able to survive her numerous injuries without him helping her. He could do that now.

"Pyrrha, if you want?" He reached out an arm towards her; contact made it easier.

He managed to catch the moment when she forced herself not to flinch. "N…" she coughed again, "No. Save it for later." Her voice was hoarse and broken. Much like his heart.

It was a good excuse. The injuries he'd inflicted on Pyrrha weren't life-threatening despite his intent, and healing someone else was much harder than doing the same to himself. It sometimes took him days to recover what he'd used up. It was true they might need it later, but it wasn't why she said it.

She didn't want to feel the touch of his flesh on her skin. It was understandable. He backed away. No matter how many times he'd promised himself this was the last, god always managed to speak to him again.

It wasn't really god; he could at least recognise that. It was just the only way he had come to think of the desire that came over him. Whatever subroutine Joseph had written into the code that ran his mechanical body was all-encompassing. The voice came from everywhere, inside and out; it echoed throughout his mind and from the vaults of the sky. When he heard it like that, he could only obey, only try and appease the deity that spoke to him. It wasn't even as if he could say he was a helpless passenger. It was he who wanted to kill Pyrrha, no one else.

If only he had more strength he could avoid it. The problem was he let his guard down. Right at this moment the voice was shut in a corner of his mind, but he had to sleep sometime. As he himself had found, in between a person's slumber and cognisance they were easier to manipulate.

For the most part he'd been a helpless passenger in Pyrrha's body. Watching through her eyes as she tore Atlas apart in her quest. She hadn't heard his pleas. At best he'd managed to whisper to her subconscious and persuaded her to spare someone whose life she would otherwise have taken. Those few acts hadn't managed to balance the scales.

His most triumphant moment had come when in Calypso when Pyrrha had fallen asleep with a scroll at her side. As her brain had broken from REM sleep for a few precious seconds he'd managed to influence her significantly more than normal. The short message to Nora hadn't been much, but he'd at least thought he'd managed to save Pyrrha from her self-destructive spiral.

It wasn't to be. He'd watched, almost felt himself, attack Ren and put a blade to Nora's throat. His desperate cries had been lost in the labyrinth of Pyrrha's grief-rent mind. His relief when she'd relented had been short lived. Rather than talk sense into her, his old teammates had joined her on her godforsaken quest. His last throw of the dice had failed.

He supposed he should have been pleased. Not only was he truly alive, but Pyrrha was as well. As much as he tried to change that. His android body was strong, much stronger than his old one had been. It was a cruel irony. He'd always wanted to be the powerful hero, and now he was helpless to prevent himself from using that power against his friend.

Her Aura had provided scant protection from his cybernetic grip. The bruise on her neck had spread almost all the way around its circumference. It was a clearly visible sign of his crime, and one which, even with the help of an Aura, likely wouldn't fade for days.

Pyrrha noticed him staring. "I know it wasn't you. It's fine. It doesn't hurt." She was lying, trying to appease him. If it didn't hurt why did she sound like a life-long chain smoker? She always did that, played off his attacks as if they were nothing. Even when he'd stabbed her she'd shrugged it off. He was just thankful her Semblance allowed her to marshal him easily.

He nodded; it was the only answer he could give. Pyrrha rose from the bed and worked up the courage to walk towards him. She took his hands in hers. The ones which a few short minutes ago had been intent on ending her life. From this close the remnants of his attack were much more vivid. He could see the bands of darkness where each of his fingers had pressed against her flesh, each burst vessel in her eyes. He hated himself, and he hated her for being able to forgive him time and time again.

"We'll work something out Jaune. We'll get through this," Pyrrha tried to sound convincing, but with her in that state she was anything but. He'd never be able to control god, and one day he would succeed in carrying out god's wishes. They both knew that it was only a matter of probability. "I'm going to go and freshen up."

Jaune let Pyrrha pull her hands from his. He hadn't gripped them anyway. He was too scared of hurting her again. Most of his time his body felt like just that. It was sometimes easy to forget he no longer had an organic one.

The scientists at Enerdyne had been intent on creating an android that was indistinguishable from a person and it was the little touches that really showed their intent. He sweated, in his sleep he drooled, he even got hungry. The food and drink likely didn't actually do anything, but it still had to come out the other end. He doubted anyone would know he wasn't real unless he told them.

He knew though. Most of time his body might have felt normal, but it wasn't. His strength, his reaction times, his speed, they were all far superior. And that was before he accessed the other function in his body.

With a thought he was able to track targets across a battlefield, change the spectrum of his vision, open up the hollow in his back and extract the weapons within. He could do things now that were truly remarkable. Things that he'd once dreamed about. But it came with a heavy cost.

Almost two years had passed since Pyrrha had transferred his soul to this body. She'd changed in that time. Grown, matured. As young as she was none of the differences were obvious, but they were there. Pyrrha had aged, he hadn't. Not in the slightest. He hadn't even needed to visit a barber. He appeared identical to the day they'd found his body.

That was what haunted him most when he couldn't sleep. Was he now immortal? He guessed not, not in the truest sense of the word. He was a machine, and without maintenance eventually machines would break. He didn't even know how he was powered. There was no easy port for Dust. No indicator. One day he might just run out.

In all honesty he would find that preferable to the alternative. Where he would be forced to watch, as year on year, Pyrrha and the rest of his friends grew older. He would see the lines on their faces grow, hear as their joints began to click, notice as the grey hairs multiplied, and all the while he would still be a teenager. He would have to watch his sisters mature, get married, have children, and eventually pass away. If his body didn't fail, he would be alone throughout eternity.

He had no clue how he was going to explain it to his family when the time came. They'd been too overjoyed to question his explanation as to why the reports of his death had been a mistake. His mother didn't know he no longer resided in the body she'd given birth to. The fewer people who knew what Pyrrha had done the better.

It had been a risk for him to visit his family anyway. Pyrrha wasn't wanted publicly, but that his body had obviously been designed with her death in mind showed just what Joseph intended for her. The pair of them were in hiding.

Atlas wasn't safe, and at the moment neither was Vale. They'd been left with two choices and in the end Mistral had won out. Being back in Pyrrha's native country had helped in her recovery, as did the fact her own parents were only a few hours away.

That had been another difficult reunion. It was clear to him that they loved her immensely ̶ ̶ he'd heard from Ren how they'd reacted to the news that Pyrrha had vanished ̶ ̶ but at the same time he wasn't sure just how much they'd mourned Pyrrha, and how much they'd mourned the loss of a perfect daughter.

It wasn't just good fortune that Pyrrha had grown up to be a champion fighter, it was what her parents had ordained for her. Pyrrha had once told him how she'd had to get up at five in the morning every day to train before school and then spend the rest of her evening doing more. By the time she was old enough to attend Sanctum she'd already had more combat experience than those who were graduating. It wasn't surprising she was able to break records.

Descended from one of the old Atlesian traders that had landed and subsequently settled on Mistral centuries ago, Pyrrha's family was well off, but her parents had made the most of their daughter's star status. Her limited free time had been taken up by photoshoots, fan greetings, and other marketing opportunities.

Her parents had grown rich off their daughter and they still expected to. They didn't understand why she'd withdrawn from the limelight? Why she'd changed her instantly recognisable appearance that they'd cultivated? Why she seemed content with mediocrity?

The arguments were likely why Pyrrha had refused their offer of a flat in Helios and had desired to move inland away from the coastal city. It was where most of the Grimm were anyway. Where people needed them most.

Ozpin might have succeeded in completely eliminating the White Fang and ensuring that no organisation would rise from its ashes, but the broadcast of the slaughter had also sowed seeds across the world. In the two years that had passed the Grimm were more active than ever, more numerous, and more dangerous.

With the newly founded Valesh Military, the hunters, and assistance from Atlas, Vale might have been winning in their war against them, but Mistral couldn't say the same. So far Atlas had refused to sell them military technology such as the Knights that could have taken the place of those on the frontline. The Mistralian Council was forced to play catch-up. They'd signed research agreements with Vacuo and had designated additional funding, but that wouldn't help them in the short term.

Entire villages had been overrun. Their inhabitants slaughtered. It was that which stopped Jaune from asking his family to join him. Vale might have been too dangerous for him and Pyrrha, but it was safer than here.

He'd done his best, they all had, and it was never good enough. They'd fought off an attack only to hear later that they'd been needed elsewhere as well. No matter how many Grimm he and all the other hunters operating in Mistral killed it didn't seem to make a difference. There were always more. The Mistralian people were scared and that terror drew the Grimm.

He and Pyrrha had only returned to Sānguó yesterday. They'd spent almost an entire week purging the area around a village of Grimm. It had been exhausting for her and mentally so for him. His body itself didn't get tired, but his mind still did. It was likely that which had lowered his defences enough to make him susceptible to the code buried within him.

Pyrrha emerged from the bathroom. Her hair was damp from her shower. He'd never tell her he'd preferred it crimson. The first time he'd seen her back in the hall at Beacon it had made her stand out. It was as if all the others in the crowd had been blank silhouettes. Pyrrha was still striking with it black and cut shorter, but it wasn't the same.

She'd dressed smartly in dark pants, a blouse, and a jacket. A silk scarf was wrapped around her neck. It hid the bruises, but not from him. He knew they were there.

"We don't have to go out if you don't want to," he said. He was only thinking of her and the trauma he'd caused, but she put her hands on her hips.

"Why wouldn't we?"

"Because… you know," he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"Jaune, I've told you, I'm fine. This is the first proper day off we've had in weeks. I've been looking forward to it. We've already paid for the tickets; we may as well enjoy them."

A smile took some of the sting from her harsh tone, some, but not all. She clearly wanted to put this morning firmly in the past just as she had all the other incidents. Any further conversation was curtailed as she began blow-drying her hair.

The noise of the small motor grated on him and he turned down the sensitivity of his ears ̶ ̶ being an android did have certain perks. In the last two years, while trying to restore a sense of normalcy to their lives Pyrrha had bought him numerous clothes. She was intent on improving his, self-admitted, lacklustre sense of style. He attempted to think what outfit would complement Pyrrha's before giving up and choosing his shirt and pants at random. He changed in the room; it wasn't like Pyrrha hadn't seen it all before anyway.

She was watching when he turned around. "Good choice. I was thinking we should go out for breakfast. There's that place on the river we always pass by. We could try it out."

Jaune shrugged. "Sure." He wasn't particularly feeling up to it, but, today of all days he'd agree with anything Pyrrha wanted to do.

"Great. Let's go then."


Breakfast hadn't actually been that bad. He'd never eaten all that much Mistralian food before Beacon. Ren had done his best to introduce him to some of the recipes of his ancestors, but living in the middle of Sānguó he was gaining a new appreciation for the food. Just like all his other senses, his taste was still there only enhanced. If he wanted to he was able to analyse every separate ingredient in a meal. It was normally a function that he left turned off.

Pyrrha had enjoyed the assorted diǎnxīn as well. It had been obvious that she'd had trouble swallowing the dumplings, but she'd struggled through the pain. He knew that mere physical discomfort wasn't likely to stop her from doing anything.

When they'd left their apartment the streets might have been close to empty, but they were filling up now. The outer villages around the city might have had the ever-present danger of the Grimm lying over them, but within the walls at this precise moment in time most of the shoppers were only worrying about where to get the best bargain.

Pyrrha was too. Her parents might have been paying for their apartment, but they still had to watch just how much they spent. Even without the need for combat supplies and repairs from their numerous hunts, food wasn't free. Neither of them wanted to have to rely on charity forever.

To Jaune's eyes it seemed as if everyone on the street was staring at him, or more accurately Pyrrha and then him. In the morning she might have got away with the scarf, but it was much too hot to be wearing one now. Coupled with her large sunglasses it led people to wonder just what she was hiding. Most thought they knew. His enhanced hearing was able to pick up some of the mutters from the peoplewho thought they should take the situation into their own hands and teach him a lesson.

At one point it would have horrified him to be thought of amongst such vile company. Growing up with seven sisters ̶ ̶ most older, a couple younger ̶ ̶ had ensured that he would never have thought of laying a hand on a woman in that way. Now though, he knew he fully deserved their angry remarks and more. In all honesty, Pyrrha did act like an abused spouse. She should have said enough was enough, but instead she just kept forgiving him.

For her sake he tried to match her level of enthusiasm. It was hard. The world had grown much darker in the last few years and he with it. He'd seen things which could never be unseen; been party to things which could never be undone. They constantly weighed on his mind.

It was a relief when Pyrrha turned to him after they left the latest in a long sequence of clothes shops. "Do you mind taking the bags back to our flat? And there's also a few things I need you to pick up from the store." She tucked a list of groceries into his breast pocket as his hands were full.

"What? What are you going to be doing?" He'd thought they were meant to be spending the day together.

"I wanted to get my hair done before tonight. It's a mess after last week. I hope you don't mind."

"No. Of course not." He didn't, this day was meant to be all about her. "Where do you want to meet?"

"Umm… Huánghūn Plaza. It's nearby. My hair will probably take over an hour so there's no need for you to hurry."

"Sure," he knew where it was. "Enjoy yourself."

"I will." She leant in and kissed him. It managed to raise a spark within him, but that was all. Jaune watched her depart. The reason why she was able to forgive him constantly was obvious; she loved him.

It saddened him to admit he wasn't sure if the opposite was true anymore. He'd definitely loved her once, true love, but then again she had been his first proper love. Not just a crush or an infatuation with someone well out of his league, but something which was infinitely more. A single moment with Pyrrha had once brought him more joy than anything else he'd experienced. Where had it all gone?

He was sure he still loved her somewhere, but at the same time even a kiss hardly managed to make his heart flutter. It might have been because he didn't actually have a heart in this body. At some points he wondered if that was it. That a machine simply wasn't capable of love. But he also knew that wasn't the truth.

The reunion with his family had been more than proof of that. Love didn't come from a muscle; it came from the core of himself. The issues between him and Pyrrha transcended mere biology. He'd sacrificed himself to give her another chance, and in doing so had unleashed something terrible on the world.

In his transient state he hadn't been privy to Pyrrha's thoughts just as she'd been unable to hear his cries. He didn't know just what had been going through her mind on her crusade, but he'd witnessed the results. Pyrrha had killed and killed again. She might have been able to justify some of them, but many had been innocents. Guards who'd taken a job to feed their families, scientists who were working to cure diseases. To Pyrrha it hadn't mattered. They'd all been part of the machine and equally culpable.

Witnessing that slaughter would have been bad enough, but he hadn't just witnessed it. He hadn't been an idle passenger. Pyrrha had used her Aura to power her Semblance and had instinctively drawn on his as well. He hadn't had a say in the matter. His soul had been as much a part to the murders as hers.

He'd never told her that. Never told her how she'd sullied him, but that was how he felt. He'd never killed anyone before, and now he had the blood of hundreds on his hands. His love for her had also been stained. It was his love which had saved her in Vale. It had continued to persuade him to heal her when she'd needed it. He could have let her die from her wounds numerous times, but he hadn't. He was to blame for the deaths just as much as she was.

From Pyrrha's point of view the impossible had happened. She'd believed she was avenging his death and instead he'd been brought back to her. It wasn't surprising she'd clung onto him ever since.

It was for her well-being that he'd stayed by her, pretended that nothing was wrong. He hadn't been privy to her thoughts, but he'd been able to hear her speak. Hear her confess to Nora that she hated him for what he'd done to her. It was just an additional layer on his guilt.

His decision to revive her had at the same time destroyed the person she'd been. The person who he'd fallen in love with. That was his fault and he felt obliged to fix it. His presence helped Pyrrha and though he wasn't sure if he loved her anymore he still cared about her immensely. Sometimes it was hard, but he pushed himself through it. No matter what happened they were still partners, and it was his hope that one day his feelings might return.


It only took him about half the time Pyrrha had suggested to do the shopping, so he decided to take the scenic route back to their meeting place. He liked exploring the city; it was just so different from where he'd grown up. Even the modern world had failed to entirely eliminate the traditional architecture. The materials might have been replaced by more fire-retardant ones, but the symmetry and flared roofs remained. When their busy schedules of hunts had coincided, Ren had taken them on tours. He might have only visited Sānguó when he was younger, but he knew almost everything there was to know about it.

Jaune had just crossed into one of the less reputable sectors of the city when he heard a voice. It was faint, but his ears picked it up.

"Is that really all you have?" Pyrrha said from some distance away.

That was another useful feature of his body. He'd been able to give the voices of Pyrrha and the rest of his teammate's preference. He was able to hear any words they uttered even across a battlefield full of roars and explosions, or through a maze of crowded alleyways. The words weren't entirely clear ̶ ̶ his body was only able to enhance what soundwaves came to it and there was a lot of interference ̶ ̶ but it was unmistakably her and this was not an area where he expected to find many salons.

He started to move towards the direction of the sound. He wasn't stupid. She'd lied to him. There hadn't been enough time for her to get her hair done, and there was no reason why she should be here, not unless she'd been taken by the same urge to walk. She was up to something which didn't involve him. That was what really grated; it was clear she didn't trust him.

A lone person walking through this part of the city might have been a tempting target, especially wearing smart clothes and appeared unarmed, but though many thought about it, something stopped them. He'd lost the slumped posture that many taller teenagers adopted; he walked with his back straight and without fear. He knew exactly what the outcome of any attempted mugging would be and so did anyone who met his gaze.

They would have seen the same in Pyrrha. He might have been strong, but she was terrifying. There was perhaps no one on the planet that was able to match her, but there were plenty who could enrage her; and someone was obviously doing their best at this precise moment. It was easier for him to hear her now.

"I paid you and you come back to me with this?"

"Don't raise your voice with me," a deep voice snapped back at her.

"Oh, and what are you going to do about it?" He'd heard that tone before. He started to run.

"Look miss you're all alone here. Keep a civil tongue in your head or you'll make me do something I'll regret."

"Try it." Jaune hit a dead-end and ran back along his path. Pyrrha was close.

"Fine. Have it your way, boys." Bones broke. Men cried out in pain.

Pyrrha's voice remained unchanged. "Now why don't we discuss what I expected for the money I gave you?"

"You're crazy." The man grunted in pain. "Shit that hurts."

"Maybe I am, but in that case it should give you an even larger incentive not to piss me off." Jaune finally rounded a corner and found the particular alley that they were in. "So tell me what you found out about Joseph. All of it this time."

Jaune skidded to a halt at the name. Joseph. Pyrrha hadn't given up her quest, and she was still prepared to do almost anything in its pursuit. Thankfully the information broker's guards weren't dead, but they were holding snapped fingers against their chests. Like so many before them, they'd made a mistake of drawing a weapon against Pyrrha.

Pyrrha herself had thrust the broker against the wall and he squirmed in her grasp. "Look I can't tell you anything more. The guy barely exists."

"Bullshit. I gave you gigabytes of data. Data you'll no doubt sell later. You're getting paid twice for this job so don't give me excuses. Where is he?"

"I don't know. Atlas maybe. You say he's the CEO of Enerdyne? Well he's not on any official listing. I might, and I stress might, have found someone who might be him, but I'm not certain by any measure."

"Then why didn't you tell me before?"

"What you've given me; if it's true it doesn't exactly make it appealing to get on their bad side. I'm a neutral. I don't make enemies. It's safer that way."

"So, you lied to me." Pyrrha's voice dropped into a very neutral tone. "You are going to have to decide which is more pressing: a possible threat in the future, or a very real one now."

Jaune readied himself to rush in. He wouldn't let Pyrrha kill again.

"Shit… Look just don't do anything else. Enerdyne's CEO, the real one, I mean the public one, has held several meetings with the Mistrali Council behind closed doors. It's all hush hush at the moment, but if my sources are correct, and they are, some scientists came to a few of them. One could be him. He matched your description."

"He's here?"

"Yes. Or at least he was. Do you see why I didn't want to tell you? If they're working with the government, I don't want to be anywhere near this. It's not worth the risks."

"You should have thought of that before you asked me to pay you upfront. I want everything you've uncovered."

For a moment it seemed as if he was going to deny her, but something made him reconsider. He might not have been able to see her eyes behind the sunglasses, but he could sense the madness they hid. "Sure." He gestured to one of his men, who reached into their pocket clumsily with his unbroken hand. The bodyguard tossed a small card to his boss. "Here you go. Everything I've got on him."

"Thank you." Pyrrha took it from him. "Now…"

"Hey," Jaune shouted. He didn't want to say her name as she was probably using a fake one, but he absolutely did not want her to complete her sentence. At one point he would have given her the benefit of the doubt. That point was long past. In his mind he only saw Pyrrha tying up loose ends.

"Ja… What are you doing here?" Pyrrha turned towards him with surprise. She's been completely oblivious to his presence and was obviously trying to work out just how much he'd overheard.

"I could ask you the same question." His voice was cold. After everything he'd done to try and restore a sense of normalcy to her life, she still insisted on all this.

Pyrrha turned away from him and addressed those watching. "You lot get out of here. And keep on digging. I will be checking in." They didn't need another chance. The woman had been bad enough. Getting in the middle of the brewing conflict between her and someone who could face her down without fear was much worse.

The two of them stared at each other; entirely unwilling to budge. Pyrrha cracked first.

"It's not what you think."

"Oh, and what do I think it is?" His voice dripped with sarcasm. "Because I happen to think this doesn't look much like a salon. I happen to think you lied to me. And I happen to think that nothing I've said to you has meant anything."

"That's not true. It means everything. I love you Jaune. I'm doing this for us!"

"And how is that? Do you think we can bond over killing someone else."

"I don't want to kill him," Pyrrha nearly shouted.

"What?" That didn't make sense. As soon as she'd met Joseph, Pyrrha had been focussed on little else.

"I don't want to kill him," she repeated. "Jaune. He's perhaps the only person who knows about you. About your body. He'd be able to help… unprogram… that voice in your head. You've said it yourself, we need to come up with a solution. Well this is the only thing I've been able to think of. Where's yours?" Pyrrha retorted.

Jaune couldn't answer. He didn't have one. Not really. Not one which would have been acceptable to her. All of his involved leaving.

She took his silence as his answer. "Exactly. This is our only option."

"What makes you think he'll even help us?" It might have slipped Pyrrha's notice, but Joseph wanted her dead as well.

"Jaune, I'm not stupid. I know he won't willingly. That doesn't mean this is a pointless though. He might lead us to some of the other scientists who worked with him; they might be able to help. Or if worse comes to worst we'll have to force him."

The thought of someone digging around in his head at gunpoint was not a particularly pleasant one, but Pyrrha's other suggestion did have some merit. Surely not every scientist working on project Persephone was entirely evil. Sure they had to be cold to be able to ignore the screams of their subjects, but maybe some got through it by telling themselves it was for the greater good. There might be a sympathetic ear to his plight among them.

Maybe Pyrrha had thought this through, but it still didn't excuse her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He was still furious about that.

"I knew you'd stop me."

"You're damn right I would have. We're meant to be in hiding. What do you think that guy's going to do after your demonstration? He's going to try and find out who just beat up his two guards. And you know that once he does he'll probably sell the information. I bet Enerdyne has deeper pockets than you do. You've put all of us in danger."

"Stop being so dramatic. I used a fake name and paid in cash. He saw what my Semblance can do, so what? It could be a dozen different things, and what it actually is still isn't in the public domain. I've checked."

That would have taken Pyrrha some time. She had something of an online presence. It wasn't just the page on the encyclopaedia site, there were numerous fan groups as well. There were sites that analysed competitive fighters, and she even had a profile on RHDB. The Invincible Girl was all kinds of famous.

"He won't be able to link me to what happened here. You don't have to worry."

"It was still stupid. The public might not know, but so far Joseph hasn't done anything in public. He might have put the word out on the underground. The underground that you've gotten involved with. Do you really think he hasn't been looking for us?"

"It's fine," Pyrrha said with exasperation. "He's not going to find us, and so what if he does?"

"So what!" Jaune reined in his temper. Whether he liked it or not, Pyrrha had changed from the girl he'd first met. They all changed. It was just that Pyrrha had changed for the worse. She could still be sweet. In those moments his faded love for her rekindled. But moments like this dowsed it entirely.

In his time spent in her body he'd seen far too much. Experienced far too much. The Invincible Girl would never have broken the fingers of two men just to make a point; whoever Pyrrha was now had. And the Pyrrha he'd once known wouldn't have sounded so nonchalant about someone they'd been hiding from finding them.

"Is that what you want?" He couldn't help but feel it was.

Pyrrha turned away from him. "No, it's just…" she turned back to him and met his eyes, "We're the only ones who know. Know it all. About him, about what he's doing, about the Tinmen… And we're not doing anything about it. We should be."

Jaune grimaced at the name popular culture had selected for those like him. Tinmen. Cold and unfeeling. He was anything but. He was sure the others were as well. They hadn't asked for this; they'd been torn from their old lives and thrust into another body. One in which choice did not exist for them. He was sure that was the only reason they were so content to be Ozpin's enforcers ̶ ̶ some were little more than children.

The problem was that they couldn't do anything about it. Not unless they desired to start along that dark path once again. They'd left war behind. The Grimm were bad, but at least he didn't have nightmares about killing them. If Joseph had founded new facilities they would not be guarded by monsters.

It was difficult. He was a hunter. He'd sworn an oath to stand against evil wherever he found it, but to do so he would have to commit evil. There wasn't any other way of looking at it. Killing was wrong, no matter the circumstances. Ultimately everything was a question of balance. Was it acceptable to commit a small evil to counter a larger one? That was a question that many faced, and few could answer. Pyrrha was one of the few.

"You must feel it too. He's not done with us. We can't hide forever. Especially with…" she clearly didn't want to mention his problems.

The worst thing was that Jaune had felt that. He'd known it ever since he'd seen the slaughter of the White Fang in Vale. Seen those like him take part. Joseph wouldn't be content to allow one of his inventions run around untethered.

"Pyrrha… haven't you had enough?" His question was heartfelt. No matter if it appeared that the universe was guiding him towards Joseph again, sometimes it was just one step too far. He couldn't live through that again.

His question may have been born of frustration and regret, but Jaune immediately knew that Pyrrha had misunderstood.

"Enough? I've had enough of you trying to kill me. Of closing my eyes and wondering if I I'm ever going to open them again."

"Then why do you want me to stay?"

"Because I love you! Because as bad as this is, I know it would be worse without you. I couldn't face spending my days alone knowing you were somewhere else. I lost you once. I'm not going to lose you again. Not to this. Not to anything."

There was a madness in her eyes. A deep-seated need that transcended a healthy relationship. Pyrrha was telling the truth. She wouldn't lose him again. No matter what. After everything she'd done, after knowing what she was capable of, Jaune pitied anyone who found themselves between her and her goal. Himself included. Even Joseph.

He'd stayed with her for her sake. To try and guide her along the road to recovery. To try and help her rediscover the person she'd been. The huntress who had once been a role model to so many. They'd made progress, but he could recognise that person was dead. She'd died alongside him in Vale.

There were still traces of her, flashes of the girl he'd fallen in love with, but then there were moments like this. Moments that reminded him of just how damaged they both were. In reality, even now, they were suited to each other.

"I know. I'm not going anywhere. But… I don't want to do this again. I can't." He really couldn't. His shoulders were already buckling from the weight of guilt.

She took his hand and squeezed it. "I know. I'm not asking you to. I will do this. I'll find him. I'll plan it. I'll make sure it's not… like last time. You'll only have to be there at the end."

Two years ago he would have instantly refuted the notion of allowing her to go alone. Two years was a long time. He could only nod. Pyrrha took it as assent.

"We'll work this out Jaune. I promise you."

It was an empty one. Nothing in the world was definite. But for Pyrrha, where she had the will, she would make it a reality. If she set her mind to it, she had the strength to move the world. And for him, Jaune knew that was exactly what she intended to do.

A/N: You should have known what to expect by now. I hope you enjoyed and please leave a review. Also remember to follow/favourite if you can.