Jaune pulled up at the curb as the vehicle in front of him started off. He glanced at Pyrrha in the passenger seat. In her large sunglasses and with a silk scarf wrapped around her neck, she seemed perfectly at home in the sports car. It suited her in a way it would just never be able to suit him.

Pyrrha smiled. In many ways it was the perfect smile, lots of white, even her eyes appeared overjoyed. It was a smile that would be expected on the front of a magazine. It was a celebrity's smile ̶ ̶ or at least the smile of someone who didn't have to worry about finances. He supposed that was what they were going for.

The moment his hand reached for the door it swung open. The uniformed valets who'd approached as they arrived had just been waiting for them to decide to exit the vehicle. Leaving the keys in the ignition, Jaune did just that. On the other side of the car Pyrrha stepped out much more gracefully, keeping her legs together lest she give a waiting photographer an unexpected boon ̶ ̶ a habit that had been instilled in her from childhood.

"Thanks." Jaune exchanged the numbered chip the valet offered for a crisp fifty lien note. Perhaps too much, but Pyrrha had told him to be generous.

In a practiced motion the valet deftly pocketed the money. "Thank you, sir. Your bags will be delivered to your room." Their suitcases were already being wheeled away. All in all it their arrival had been the epitome of well-choreographed efficiency but, then again, you get what you pay for.

Pyrrha took his arm just under the elbow and, after a subtle nudge, they started to climb the stairs towards the brass-framed glass doors. The waist-coated doorman bowed them into the atrium of the hotel.

It wasn't exactly large ̶ ̶ the walls of the city didn't allow for extensive footprints ̶ ̶ but it was just as grand as the outside of the building suggested. The floor underneath was polished walnut, patterns spiralling between the planks. The sun streamed in through large windows, and where its rays couldn't reach the walls drew attention to artwork hung upon them. Pyrrha might have been used to this ̶ ̶ her family was rich even without her own earnings ̶ ̶ but he'd grown up with seven siblings. When they'd been on holidays, they'd stayed in the most cost-effective hotels they could find. Certainly none of the ones they'd visited had had a water feature.

Pyrrha stopped in front of the check-in desk. The woman behind smiled at them prettily; in her traditional Mistrali dress she was as much an ornament as the art on the walls. "Welcome to the Amanfayun. How may I be of service?"

"We have a reservation." Pyrrha pushed her sunglasses up into her hair.

"May I take your name?"

"May Zedong."

The receptionist's keyboard clicked, and a card slid from a slot. "Welcome. Your room has already been paid for. Two nights. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Might I enquire as to the reason for your stay?"

Pyrrha clutched Jaune's arm more tightly and leant into him. "It's our three year anniversary."

Jaune's stomach lurched, the terrible realisation striking him before his more rational mind took hold. Surely it couldn't have been. The date appeared in the corner of his vision. He let out the captured breath he was holding. It wasn't. Just another lie. He could only wish that Pyrrha had told him before dropping that bombshell.

"Congratulations. You two look fabulous together." The woman sounded completely sincere, but then she wouldn't be very good at her job if she didn't. "I'm sure you'll find the room much to your liking. Dinner service begins at half past five and ends at eleven in the room just to your left. Will you be requiring breakfast?"

Pyrrha rubbed up against his shoulder, a perfect impression of someone still deeply in love. Or maybe it wasn't an impression? Pyrrha did love him. "If we manage to find time." Jaune blushed at the not so subtle suggestion in her tone, but the receptionist must have experienced it daily.

"Well if you don't, room service is available twenty-four hours a day. Just dial seven from any internal phone. Your room is on the eighth floor, you'll need your keycard to use the elevators. If you have any issues or requests, dial zero for reception and we'll be happy to take care of them. We aim to make your stay here memorable! That should be everything." She passed Pyrrha the room card. "Thank you for choosing the Amanfayun, and have a brilliant day."

Pyrrha thanked her and the pair of them moved off. With their bags already whizzing towards one of the service elevators, they entered one of the larger ones. The attendant glanced at their keycard before inserting his own and pushing a button. Jaune barely felt the elevator accelerate, but his exact velocity appeared in the corner of his vision.

"Your room is four doors down on the left." The attendant ushered them out. This time it was Pyrrha who passed him a note. Jaune was just glad he hadn't been the one to book the rooms. If this was how much it cost just to tip the staff, he dreaded to think how much more expensive the two nights had been.

It might have been expensive, but Jaune had to admit that it was probably worth it. Despite being in a high-rise, the hotel sought to reclaim the traditional roots of the city's settlers. The room décor was a blend of dark, rich wood, and pristine white. There wasn't much in the way of technology, a TV flush with the wall and that was about it. With the wooden beams overhead that couldn't possibly be structural, it was almost as if they'd stepped into the past.

"What do you think?" Pyrrha ran her hands along the drapes hanging from the four-poster bed.

"Umm… yeah." Pyrrha's eyes narrowed at the ineloquence of his reply. "I mean. It's great. I love it." He could certainly see a couple celebrating an anniversary here. With the sunken stone bathtub that could have been a small pool, there would really have been no need for them to leave for the duration of their stay.

There was a knock on their still open door. "Where would you like your bags?"

"Just over there." Pyrrha directed him to the far side of the room.

As the bellhop neared her, his gleaming brass-buckled shoe slipped on the tiled floor. Weighed down by both their suitcases he collided heavily with Pyrrha, and it was only her strength that kept them both upright. Still entwined together they stumbled several paces to the side. Pyrrha came away holding her ribs.

"Are you ok?" Jaune started forwards, but Pyrrha kept him at arm's length. She sucked in air through her gritted teeth, her eyes screwed up.

"I'm sorry. I just slipped." As an entry-level position the bellhop was just a teenager; his expression was aghast as he saw the pain on his guest's face. "I'm sorry," he repeated, no doubt the possible grievous consequences of his mistake flowing through his mind.

"It's ok," Pyrrha hissed. From the pain present in her voice it was anything but. "It was accident. There's no harm done."

"I think I should call for a doctor."

"No." Pyrrha put on a shaky smile, the lines around her eyes still tight. "I'm fine. There's no need for you to worry."

"Are you sure?"

Pyrrha laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Please, don't think any more of it."

"Umm… ok." Still appearing unsure the bellhop backed towards the door, his body language contrite. As he left the room with a final apology, Jaune couldn't help but be glad he hadn't waited around for a tip.

The door swung shut and he turned to see Pyrrha smiling, all traces of pain forgotten, and a keycard rolling through her fingers.

"That was smooth." In many ways it scared him just how good an actress Pyrrha was ̶ ̶ he'd actually been worried for her despite being clued in ̶ ̶ and how easily she'd managed to steal the boy's security card. He'd been with her when she'd been forced to learn these skills after his death, but they'd only gotten smoother over time.

"Pretty good huh? With luck he'll just figure the card I gave him stopped working. I doubt he'll want to mention anything that happened here to his manager. So what do you think?" In complete light of the actual reason they'd booked into the hotel, she spun around gesturing at their room.

Jaune grunted.

"Is that all?" Pyrrha scowled at him as if she'd actually made a reservation for their anniversary, and his apathy towards it was a slight on her.

"I mean, yeah it's nice." He waved his arms around in a half-hearted way. "I'm just nervous that's all."

Pyrrha stroked the skin of his cheek. It was perfectly smooth, despite how he hadn't shaved for two years. A reminder that he wasn't human. A beneficial reminder perhaps, but a reminder all the same. Still, his nerves worked ̶ ̶ or whatever passed for them these days. The touch was so soft, so caring, so loving. Any of the ire that had leaked from Pyrrha moments before was gone. He knew that her mood swings was just another facet of the damage he'd caused her.

"It's ok to be nervous Jaune. It's all going to be over soon. Then we can do whatever we want with our lives." There was such hope in her voice, such optimism, and it broke him. They would never be able to get on with their lives. The lives Pyrrha wanted just weren't possible anymore.

He longed to say that. To confront her. But he couldn't. He couldn't hurt her any more than he already had. This was her hope. Her last few fingernails on the cliff of sanity that she perpetually hung off. He could let her have this. "Yeah. You're right."

Pyrrha pecked him on the cheek. "You'll see. I booked two nights for a reason."

There was no mistaking just what she intended them to do tomorrow. Jaune did his best to appear excited. He should have been. Even without knowing who she actually was most men and some women would have jumped at the chance of sharing Pyrrha's bed. She was incredibly attractive, her body toned and smooth, but most of all she loved him. Completely. Entirely. Anyone else would have called her the perfect girlfriend.

She was. It was he who wasn't the perfect boyfriend. He tried. He really did. It was just impossible to force yourself to love someone. At times, he felt his old feelings stir within him ̶ ̶ when they were just together watching TV, walking along the river, doing normal things. In those moments he'd remember the girl he'd met at Beacon, the girl who'd so completely captured his heart. But then maybe hours, maybe weeks later, something else would happen and the perpetuity of hurt would be restored. He did love her still. He felt that. Only the purity of what had once been their love had been corrupted by the cruel world they'd both dared to exist in.

Pyrrha took his silence for assent. Rooting through their suitcases, she tossed him a shirt right from the bottom. The hotel's logo was stitched in gold on dark silk. It was slightly old, once thrown out and thought destroyed, but the information broker that Pyrrha had gone to before had managed to source it.

Just as he'd managed to source the other information Pyrrha had politely requested. They hadn't chosen this hotel just because it was extravagant. The delegates from Enerdyne were staying here while the negotiations with the Mistrali government took place.

The discovery of what Pyrrha had been planning had originally filled him with dread. The nightmares that were oh so real resurfacing from their fleeting crypt. He'd pledged to have nothing to do with this. To not follow Pyrrha down the eroded path to ruin again. He'd sworn that to himself. And, like he so often did, he'd broken his promise. He might not have been human any longer but, with any vestige of good conscience, he hadn't been able to let her go into danger alone. He would be beside her, in the best of times, and, as it so often proved recently, in the worst of times.

The information broker hadn't been able to provide them with certain information that Joseph was here, but there would be people who knew where he was. They would find him, and perhaps find a resolution at the same time.

"Are you ready?" Pyrrha attached a name plate to her front pocket. She had changed as well, a pencil skirt and blouse giving her every appearance of a middle manager. With the pickpocketed keycard the elevators should be able to take them to whatever floor they desired.

"Yeah." Jaune bounced on his toes, attempting to psyche himself up for whatever they would encounter. It was close to impossible. He'd made only one bargain with Pyrrha; no one died today. She'd accepted. Whether she'd stick to her promise was another story altogether.

"Ok then. Let's go." There was no need for them to go over the intricacies of the plan again; they both knew it by heart.

The corridor outside was quiet, almost silent. Any errant noise was absorbed the thick carpets that maintained the tranquil sanctity of the hotel. Jaune mirrored the professional smile that Pyrrha had fixed on her face. He was a member of the staff. If anyone saw them, he was only too happy to help.

Rather than head for the main elevators they'd arrived in, they took a left out of their room and headed towards the ones meant for the staff. It was a risk. There was always the chance they'd encounter someone who could call their bluff, but it was the only option. The security and privacy that the hotel provided its, often famous, guests meant that the stairs were alarmed and only for use in emergencies.

The indicator on the elevator wasn't digital; floor by floor a hand on a dial indicated its progress towards them. Jaune couldn't quite keep his leg still. He didn't know how Pyrrha appeared so calm, so composed. All of this was so foreign to him. The deception, trespassing, everything. His mind wouldn't stay at rest. Stay focussed on what they were doing. Instead every single possible way that this whole thing could come crashing down around them appeared before him in a vivid kaleidoscope of catastrophes.

He imagined a staff member stumbling across them, a guest whom they simply couldn't deal with, even Joseph standing in the elevator when it arrived. As it was, the reveal as the doors slid open was anti-climactic and utterly desired. The pair of them stepped into the empty metal box.

Despite the minor success his stomach didn't stop squirming. As the doors slid shut he almost laughed at the realisation. His body always surprised him. He didn't even have anything approaching a normal stomach that he knew of, so just why did he feel just like every time he'd had to stand up before a class and make a report?

"What?" Pyrrha's voice in the confined space made him jump.

"Oh, nothing." He wouldn't be able to explain any of this to her.

As usual, the answer of 'nothing' didn't satisfy her. But at least here she didn't have time to drag an explanation from him. "Well, focus please."

Jaune attempted to pull himself away from the precipice of nerve-induced giggles. Pyrrha slotted the stolen card into the control panel and, for a brief moment, they both held their breath. The light went green.

It turned out that the Amanfayun spent the majority of its revenue on the well-being of its guests. The main elevators were quiet enough to have a whispered conversation and smooth enough that not a drop of a full cup of coffee would be spilt. The staff elevators were not. It was likely that they hadn't been renovated in decades. The one they were in juddered as it rose, the ratchets at the side clanked on the metal teeth, the gears overhead whined. It must have taken them three times longer to ascend half the distance, arriving at the penultimate floor.

They knew mostly what to expect. They'd managed to get the schematics of the layout of the building, but it was still a relief to see that they hadn't changed. If their information was right, three quarters of the floor had been booked for Enerdyne's representatives. The largest of the rooms was the best place to start.

"…look I don't know what he might have said, but I can only tell you what information I know. If you want more you'll have to get us both on the line. Fine… fine…"

Even through the walls meant to be soundproofed his enhanced hearing managed to pick up the conversation. He wouldn't have reacted if not for the slightly annoyed footsteps heading towards the door a few rooms ahead of them. Pyrrha halted at his touch.

The volume of the conversation suddenly increased and the man burst into the corridor, slamming his door behind him. His gaze ran over the pair of them, but their uniforms rendered them close to invisible. They may as well have been part of the décor.

Like an animal that had decided there was no prey in front of it, the tension left Pyrrha's body. She'd come to the same conclusions he had. The man striding towards them bore no resemblance to any of the delegates they'd seen. They moved against the wall, getting out of the way of the very annoyed, but ultimately irrelevant, guest. The frustrated clicking of the button for the elevator was their cue to speed up.

The layout and decorations of the corridor were identical to the one outside their own room. Deep blue carpets, cream walls, and money. Lots and lots of money. The doors displayed it in spades too. Be it the mahogany, the gleaming handle and hinges ̶ ̶ all bereft of slightest hint of any smudges ̶ ̶ or the ostentatiousness of the names.

They came to a halt outside of the Shèng Lǜzhōu suite. A news channel was playing inside. Jaune nodded, and Pyrrha rapped on the door with her knuckles. There was the soft sound of something being set down and then footsteps.

"Hi," the man sounded tired as he opened one side of the double doors. The other blocked Jaune from his view. "Can I help you?"

"Good evening," Pyrrha answered him with a slight bow of her head. "Mr Takeda I presume."

"Yes." At least that was a plus. He might not have been Joseph, but he was the most senior of the delegates.

"Excellent. I'm terribly sorry to disturb you tonight, but we've detected that there may be an issue with your water pressure. As you know the Amanfyun wishes to make your stay memorable, so could I be a dreadful bother and check?"

Her perfect smile and monogrammed blouse painted her every bit a middle-manager and that was exactly what Hagane saw. With a resigned sigh he stepped backwards. "Sure."

"Excellent. We won't be more than a few moments."

Jaune followed Pyrrha into the room and for the first time Hagane saw him. He might not have recognised the person who'd terrorised numerous Enerdyne facilities, but he recognised one of the creations he'd no doubt spent hours building. No amount of hair dye could mask who Jaune really was.

The moment they locked eyes the breath left Hagane's lungs and he half-staggered backwards a step. "How?" he breathed.

The door swung shut of its own accord, bringing a brief instant of commotion to the tranquillity of the hotel as it slammed. In a flash, Pyrrha moved behind him and clamped her hand over his mouth. In her powerful and expertly applied hold, few would have been able to break free. All he could do was squirm and grunt.

"We're just here to talk." There was a great implication behind the way she said it. They were just here to talk, as long as he cooperated.

The pair of them had their roles to play, predetermined and much discussed. Jaune couldn't say he much liked the idea of intimidating someone, or any of this really, but certain dynamics within an interrogation had been proven to work time and time again.

"We're not going to hurt you," Jaune tried to keep his voice comforting and soft. Given what Hagane may or may not be putting together about just who Pyrrha was, it was only appropriate for him to play the good cop.

Pyrrha had the bad cop nailed down. An expensive metal pen rose from a nearby table, it floated through the air, and came to rest hovering in front of Hagane's eye. With a dreadful slowness it rotated until the nib was inches from his retina. His eye darted around, scared and panicked almost beyond reason.

"Now I need you to listen to me," Pyrrha growled, her lips a hair's breadth from his ear. Jaune barely recognised her voice. It was cold to the point the humanity had withered away. "In a few second I'm going to take my hand away from your mouth. If you cry out, or make a noise, that pen will go straight through your eye. It won't kill you, but believe me when I say it will be exquisitely painful… And all that you will achieve with your brief moment of bravery is that you will never be able to see from that eye again. No one will hear you. And afterwards, we'll try again with your other eye. So… I think it would be best if you keep quiet. Do you agree?"

Listening to Pyrrha deliver that speech, in that voice, with that snarl on her face, was truly terrifying. It was almost as if a different person standing there. One consumed by hatred. Pyrrha had been that person at one point, when she'd been attempting to avenge his murder, but he'd hoped his presence over the past two years had banished her. It hadn't, and that Pyrrha was in this room. He could only hope it was mostly an act. That she would never blind him just for calling for help.

Hagane believed she would, and with the use of her Semblance he'd put two and two together. The blood that had been in his face when he'd struggled against her had drained away. The pristine sheets on the bed had more colour. He nodded against her grip.

"Good," in a complete contrast to before her tone was suddenly light and cheerful. Slowly she removed her hand. The marks of her fingers were cruelly defined on Hagane's skin. Her threat had worked. He barely dared to breathe lest he wake her ire. Pyrrha pushed him down into a chair, the pen following him still.

Seeing him sitting there, too petrified to even risk moving, his eyes wide and afraid, Jaune hated every part of himself that had led to this. He'd always believed he was better than this; that he would never sink to this level. That he would never become a criminal, and that he would always be able to look his younger sisters in the eye and tell them with pride about his job. He now knew he was no better.

Jaune crouched down in front of Hagane, getting on eye level, and swatted away the menacingly hovering pen. "We're not going to hurt you," he repeated, only wishing it was a guarantee he could make. "Do you recognise me? Do you know who I am?"

It was a sign of just how effective Pyrrha had been that he didn't dare to speak.

"It's ok. You can answer."

Hagane's whisper was barely audible as it escaped from fear-dried lips. "PPX-23."

Jaune would have been lying if he said he didn't mind be referred to as a serial code. It was too close to comfort to the books and movies about artificial intelligence. He was more than a numerical designation.

"Yes. But did you know this," he looked down at his hand for a moment and rotated it, before gesturing at himself, "was based on me? My original body. I died for lack of a better word, and then I was transferred. You gave me a second chance at life."

Hagane shook his head by a few scant millimetres. Interesting. So Joseph hadn't confided to his team just who PPX-23 was, and maybe not its original purpose. If that were the case, and Hagane felt aggrieved at the lack of trust, perhaps he might be amiable to working with them.

"How?" At least Hagane had started to take the initiative.

"It's a long story." And it was certainly one he didn't wish to go into, especially with someone they were holding under duress. "But it's true. I owe you my life." Jaune stressed the word, continuing in his attempt to draw Hagane onto his side. The tactic of good cop/bad cop might have brought him internal strife, but he couldn't deny its effectiveness. Between the ominous form of Pyrrha loitering in the room, and the person kneeling down and conversing with him softly, Hagane's loyalty was only going to be drawn to one of them.

"But, that's where we have a problem," Jaune continued. "Did Joseph tell you why he wanted this body in particular?"

Hagane shook his head again. That was good.

"You see, you gave me a second chance in life, but there's a problem. Joseph wrote a piece of code into my head. I think my head in particular. It's hard to explain, but it makes me want to kill the person I love." He didn't gesture at Pyrrha for fear of tainting the pure ideal of love, but he sensed her heart rate increase. Up to this point it had been steady, barely above normal despite what they were doing, but at the confirmation of his feelings it spiked.

"Did you know about that?"

Another negative.

"Then perhaps you can help me. I'm sorry about all this, but we didn't know who to turn to. You're a good man. I know that. You have children, a wife. Think about being forced to try and kill them. Imagine it. Imagine how horrific it would be to feel her throat beneath your hands. To feel your fingers dig into her flesh. To, in that moment, want it with all of your heart. Imagine the guilt of having to live after experiencing that, and knowing one day you will kill her." The strain in his voice was very real. No actor was that good. "That's what I have to go through. What I have to live with."

He broke off. The remainder of what he'd wished to say might have been trapped in his throat, but his words had had an effect. Hagane was still scared, but in his eyes was a hint of thoughtfulness, and maybe, just maybe, a trace of empathy.

"What form does it take?" his question was quiet.

"Umm…" It was so hard to describe. "A voice coming from everywhere. No, more a feeling, a need. I actually want to hurt her. I can't stop myself. It just takes control of me."

Hagane leant forwards in his seat, his weight resting on his arms. He peered intently into Jaune's eyes. It was impossible to quantify what the hazel-coloured ones deduced. He was silent for minutes. "Hmm… I wrote a lot of the background code that keeps your body functioning, but I didn't work on the interface with you so to speak. But, if I had to guess, it sounds like an override of the combat readiness subroutines."

To have an explanation, even a guess, after years of suffering meant more than he could convey. With that diagnosis, however vague, one of his deepest, most irrational fears was laid to rest. It wasn't all just in his imagination. He wasn't trying to kill Pyrrha because after witnessing every single crime she had perpetrated somewhere within him he believed that was what she deserved. His actions were actually beyond his control. He wasn't responsible for them.

"Can you fix me?" Jaune begged. If he thought it would have helped he would have prostrated himself in front of the chair. He was broken, and in front of him was salvation.

But it wasn't to be.

"No."

One word. A single syllable. That was all it took to burst the bubble that, against his better judgement, he'd allowed to inflate. He was doomed to this life until his body rusted and fell apart. His head sank onto his chest.

"I'm sorry. I worked on programming you, but only the basic parts. I wouldn't even know where to begin."

"Then who would?" Jaune may have accepted his fate, but Pyrrha wouldn't. Not while there was a solitary breath left within her lungs. Her question came out entirely flat. Hagane jumped, almost as if, despite her looming presence, he'd forgotten she was there.

"Umm…" he debated telling her, but the ever so slightly lopsided expression on her face was one which spoke of insanity. Only a much braver man than he would have denied her. "One of my colleagues, Joseph ̶ ̶ "

"We know who he is," she hissed, closing in with a step. Joseph. It always came back to Joseph. Jaune had known it would. It had been inevitable.

"Right." Hagane pressed himself as far away as he could from her. "Well he was the one who made it all possible. Who designed the Interface. He must have been the one who made the alterations."

"Where is he?"

"I can call him." Hagane even reached towards a nearby table. The handset exploded into a shower of white hot sparks. A lazy plume of smoke curled towards the ceiling.

"No phones. Where is he?"

"But ̶ ̶ "

"Now," she growled, the pen jumped from the carpet.

It had gone far enough. Jaune wasn't prepared to watch her torture for information. Again. "Pyrrha," he laid a hand on her arm.

"No," she twisted from his grip, sweeping his legs out from beneath him, and sending him tumbling to the carpet. He tried to rise, but a great weight kept pinned down. "I will ask you once more." The pen jumped towards Hagane. "Where is Joseph?"

Hagane began to tremble. How frightening for him that even her companion feared what she would do. Pyrrha's smile had frozen into a rictus grin. It was too much.

"He's probably still working."

"Where?"

"Our offices here."

"You're lying." Enerdyne didn't have any registered premises in Mistral. They'd checked. The steel nib of the pen pressed into the loose skin under Hagane's eye.

"I'm not. I promise." He pushed his head as far back into the cushions as possible. "I can take you."

Just like that Jaune was able to rise. The pressure pinning him to the floor vanished as the pen clattered to the ground.

With a hand on Hagane's shirt, Pyrrha hauled him out of the chair. Even without her heels she would have had about four inches on him; she manhandled him as if her were a child. "Then let's do that. You have a car here?"

"In the garage."

"The keys?" Hagane gestured at a hook near the door. "Jaune, go and find a suitcase. We're going for a drive."


Jaune couldn't say he was comfortable, but then he guessed that the trunk of the car hadn't exactly been designed with a passenger in mind. With every bump and pothole in the road he was thrown around in the enclosed space. He didn't really fit either. Balanced awkwardly on his side, legs pressed against his chest, he would be glad when they arrived.

Or would he? Arriving at their destination only meant they'd spiralled even further into iniquity. Not content with trespass and an act that could be construed as torture, they'd added kidnapping and grand theft auto to the list. The police would have a field day if they caught them.

All for what? A future. A future started with blood and pain. There hadn't been any yet, but in his gut Jaune knew there would be. Was it worth it? To allow them to live a life, a life more fulfilling than one they currently possessed? In one outburst, when attempting to persuade him to take part in this mad plan, Pyrrha had mentioned children. Could they really raise a little girl or boy knowing they'd done this? He wanted to be a dad. He wanted his sisters to be aunts, and his parents grandparents. It was a wish he'd always had, but was the price too high? He couldn't answer.

The car slowed and the vibrations from the engine ceased. The lid of the trunk opened. After the blackness the fluorescent lighting should have been blinding, but his eyes adjusted instantly. Pyrrha stood in what appeared to be an underground garage, smaller than the one they'd left, her hand gripping Hagane. A metal wire around his neck approximated a collar. The way she'd controlled him while he drove and she hid in the footwell of the back seats.

"Let's go. It appears that our friend here was telling the truth. At least so far. Now we just need to see if he's actually here." She turned her attention to the shaking form next to her. "Is there security? Cameras? Guards?"

"N… no."

"If you're lying to me…"

"I'm not. There hasn't been time. Just the gate we came through."

"Lead the way, and remember." The wire wrapped around Hagane's throat shifted, digging into his skin. Fingers reflexively grasped at it. Pyrrha gave him no sympathy, and merely sent him stumbling towards the stairs.

Jaune had lost all control of the situation. He hadn't lied back in the room. Hagane was a good man. As good as any of them were at any rate. Project Persephone had seen dozens of teenagers, some little more than children, ripped out of their bodies and cast either into new ones, or into the eternal abyss of nothingness.

The culmination of Project Persephone was evil. The souls of everyone working on it had been stained, but it had been started with good intentions. The scientists, researchers, and engineers, like Hagane, would have been attracted to those goals. To create a machine capable of generating an Aura, of hosting a soul? The possibilities were close to limitless. Who could say no to synthetic limbs for those lost in Grimm attacks, replacement organs, greater human-machine interfacing, and possibly… an end to death itself.

They were noble goals. Ones worth making a sacrifice for. No one would have been cackling over their bound test subjects, or overjoyed that they were unwilling children. Hagane was perhaps haunted by what he'd seen, but he'd pressed on, determined to make the cost mean something. Black and white morality was an ideal that didn't exist. All of them were tainted.

"We're on the second floor." The concrete stairwell echoed with Hagane's voice and the sound of their footsteps. As midnight ticked closer, the office appeared to be deserted. Jaune could only hope that Joseph was here. He didn't want to consider what Pyrrha would do if he wasn't.

The lights in the corridor flickered on as they moved into it. With enhanced senses Jaune scanned around. He couldn't see through walls, but he could hear through them. It helped that the office had likely been built by the cheapest contractor. The walls were thin but, even so, no noise originated from beyond.

"Where's his office?" Pyrrha asked. Hagane pointed and Pyrrha pushed him into a trot.

As they passed empty doors, more lights flickered on in response to their presence. There was an odd perversion to being in a building like this at night. It should have been bustling with people, with the noise of keyboards and printers, conversation, alive, not dead.

Hagane stopped at a door off the hall, light seeping out of the crack beneath it. The nameplate was blank. Jaune pressed his ear up against the dull wood. Taps came from beyond, light, but rapid, as if someone were using a tablet. He focussed in. Breaths. He nodded.

"You first," Pyrrha whispered and tightened her grip on the back of Hagane's shirt. Jaune readied himself. It was impossible to tell just what they would encounter. Just how whoever was beyond it would react.

Hagane turned the handle and Pyrrha pushed him through. Someone gasped. Jaune followed. The office beyond wasn't large. A window along one side, a sofa, and a desk with a man sitting behind it. He might have been wearing a suit instead of a lab coat like the last time they had seen him, but Jaune doubted he would ever forget Joseph's face.

"Jaune! Pyr ̶ ̶ "

With a cry, the voice from the side was cut off. Penny slammed into the wall so much force that the whole room shook and dust rained down from the ceiling tiles. Six feet off the floor she remained with nothing holding her up. Nothing apart from Pyrrha's snarl.

Pyrrha saw the thing that had almost killed her, had killed the person she loved, and so many others. Saw the thing that she had spent months fruitlessly hunting for in her quest for vengeance. She saw the android that had ripped her life apart, but she didn't see Penny. She didn't see the orange locks of hair, or the shocked green eyes that didn't understand what was happening. She didn't see the pain or the confusion as to why her friend was attacking her.

"Don't hurt my daughter!" Joseph rose, toppling his chair. His command contained power, but it was formed from desperation as well.

"Why?" Penny barely managed to vocalise the question she wanted answered most of all. Beneath the weight of Pyrrha's Semblance, which seemed intent on driving her through the wall, tears began to well.

"Leave her along! She's innocent." Joseph started to come to the defence of his daughter, but all it took was Pyrrha's outstretched hand to force him backwards. His belt digging into his waist.

"She's not! She's a murderer!" The sight of Penny again, after so long, had resurrected the ghosts that had once haunted Pyrrha so thoroughly.

"Listen to me. She knows nothing of Vale. That wasn't her. She's your friend."

"Bullshit!"

That wasn't her. The final piece of the puzzle slotted into place. For a long time Jaune had suspected given her behaviour on that fateful day. He'd always wondered how someone as seemingly friendly as Penny could have slaughtered everyone. Now he knew. It hadn't been her. Just like he was, she'd been a prisoner in her own body. She was unable to stop it from doing what its programming instructed. He'd almost killed Pyrrha and that had almost been too much. How on Remnant had Penny coped with the blood of hundreds on her hands?

"Pyrrha." Jaune put himself between Penny and her, grasping her wrists. Her tendons stood out. "Stop."

"She killed you."

"It wasn't her. She was being controlled. Just like me. She couldn't help it."

"No." Breaths surged up and down Pyrrha's throat. She was hyperventilating. Preparing to torture someone had barely caused her heartbeat to rise, but these revelations were too much. Deep down she knew they were true. The knowledge that it hadn't been Penny. That she could never get true revenge. That everything she'd sacrificed her once so promising life for was misguided. Her actions pointless. That she'd murdered all those people, perhaps even more than Penny had, all for nought. But worst of all, unlike Penny, because she'd wanted to.

The many pieces of the once bulging muscle in Jaune's chest shattered anew. The girl in front of him, the girl he cared about so much, was just as broken as his heart. Pulled in a thousand directions Pyrrha was coming apart. He wanted to hold her, to promise it would get better, that he would make it better. But he couldn't. Not here. Not in a room full of people they'd taken prisoner. Witnessed by a beaten man cowering on the floor, a desperate one behind a desk, and teenage girl embedded in a wall.

"Pyrrha, let her down." Jaune got close, until he was all she could see. "She's innocent. Let her go. Let it go." Pyrrha shook her head, her mouth a grimace, clinging on to the delusion that had controlled her for so long. "For me. Please."

Nothing would have persuaded her. Nothing apart from the plea of the person her existence was based around. Penny fell to the sofa, her knees crumpling under her, her chest heaving with confused sobs.

Jaune held Pyrrha to him as he trembled, the pent up aggression and anger of years seeping out. He cradled her to him as Joseph rushed to his daughter. They were all broken. All messed up. Almost beyond repair. Almost, but not quite. Even in this forsaken world there was still hope.

"Please," Joseph said, Penny's hand in his. "Don't hurt my daughter. I'll do anything you want. Just let her leave."

It was the right thing to do. Penny still stared at them aghast, as if she didn't know at all why Pyrrha had attacked her. They should let her go, but it wasn't the smart thing to do. Penny and Hagane were leverage.

"She won't call the police. I'll stay here with you. Just let her go."

To keep them was to ensure that Joseph kept his promise. That he would undo what was in Jaune's head. Make what they'd done here worthwhile. It was the smart course of action, the logical one, but Jaune had had enough of being smart. Of hiding behind the fallacy of logic over all else. Logic knew nothing of humanity.

"She can leave." Pyrrha almost spoke, almost contradicted him. But, for once, she ceded to his wishes.

Joseph breathed a sigh of relief. He might have masterminded Project Persephone, he might have possessed the greatest mind in the world, but Jaune saw him as only the scientist and father he was. Not a warrior. Not a hunter. He couldn't defend his daughter if they wanted to do her harm. He was a subject of their whims.

"Penny, look at me." Joseph turned her head to face his, wiping tears from her cheek with his thumb. "I need you to go with Mr Takeda. I need you to stay with him until I call you. Can you do that for me?"

"No…"

"Penny," his voice became sterner, more authoritative. "I wish for you to go with Mr Takeda. I wish for you to stay with him. I will call you later. Nothing bad is going to happen here. We're just going to talk."

Penny nodded.

"Good." Joseph turned to the man still cowering on the floor. "Hagane, get up. I don't blame you for any of this. You did the only thing you could, but I need you to look after Penny. Use my car. Take her back to your hotel room. Stay there. And do not call the authorities." The last was added with a look at their captors. "Promise me that."

Hagane hardly seemed to believe he would be allowed to simply walk free. He stood, keeping his eyes on the pair in the middle. When neither moved to stop him he spoke. His voice was dry and cracked. "Ok." He accepted the car keys.

"Remember, I'm trusting both of you. No authorities. We'll talk here, and then I will come to you. I'm sure this is all just a misunderstanding. You've done well. Now just look after my daughter. Penny, you look after him. Now go."

At no point did Hagane show his back to either Jaune or Pyrrha. He kept his eyes on them both at all times, even when he took Penny's small hand in his.

"Everything's going to be okay," Joseph promised his daughter. There was such a weight behind the ultimately futile words. He couldn't promise that. He could only try and appear strong for his daughter. As she disappeared down the corridor he crossed to the window. Joseph did show his back to them. His shoulders hunched in defeat, knuckles pressed against the sill as he leant with his forehead against the glass.

"So why did you do this? Why throw it all way?" The questions were tired ones. As if he was weary of the world.

"We need your help." Things might not have gone exactly how Jaune and Pyrrha had imagined it, but now Joseph had promised to help them. Perhaps there was a glimmer at the end of the tunnel.

Outside a pair of headlights sped down the road.

"And why would I do that?"

The hairs on the back of Jaune's neck stood up. The defeat in the voice had vanished. Instead there was power. Real power. Power that shouldn't have been coming from such an old man. As Joseph turned the room seemed to become smaller. The walls closing in. His sheer presence crushing them all.

In all his years, Jaune had never had an encounter with someone who exuded so much authority. Or danger. Joseph's jaw jutted, the lines around his eyes tight with rage. Instincts honed in combat caused Jaune to centre his gravity, deploy the weapons in his back. He hated using them, they reminded him of just who he was, but right at this moment he was glad of the subtle hums as they hovered behind him. He needed them. Pyrrha had readied herself as well.

"You come here. You threaten one of my employees. You hurt my daughter. And you expect my help." His body actually trembled.

Jaune was barely able to find his voice under the weight of Joseph's anger. "We just needed to talk."

"No. You do not make excuses. I gave you both a chance. I could have had you hunted down for what you did. For all the people you murdered. I do not know how you," he addressed Jaune in particular, "came to be here. At one time the mystery would have captivated me. Now I find myself not caring.

"I gave you that chance. I decided not to waste any more lives on trying to bring you to justice. I let you live in your flat. I let you get on with your lives. It was a mistake."

"We haven't been able to get on with our lives! You made him try and kill me every other week!" Pyrrha shouted.

"I don't care. That is more than you deserved. At least you had a life. The hundreds of people you killed don't. You had so much, and you decided to throw it all away."

"You have no right to lecture me. You're the one who tortured kids!"

"I have every right! I did what I must. You are but children who do not understand. If I am really the bad guy, what did you think was going to happen here? He spread his arms in disbelief. "That you would turn up, threaten me, and I would help you? That I would stand here, reveal all my evil plans and the way to stop them? That you force me to cooperate, and then what, the pair of you save the world? You are naïve and foolish. Nothing more.

"You think that this is a game. That you will triumph merely because you believe that you are right. I have heard that rational a hundred thousand times. And a hundred thousand times it has proven false. All people believe that they are right. And so many times, they are anything but."

Poised on the brink of combat Jaune had a hard time following the rant. It didn't make sense. A hundred thousand times? He'd never had the impression that Joseph was unhinged from anything he knew about him, but the reality was different. There was no chance of him helping them now. Still, even though Joseph's words were those of a madman, he didn't look like one, or sound like one. His words had the weight of truth behind them.

"We don't need to fight." Jaune decided on one last gamble. At his side Pyrrha was ready to do exactly that. He didn't want her to kill another man. No matter how much blood stained his hands as well.

"And say we don't. I suppose now you walk away and live happily ever after? You build a house in some tiny village somewhere and manage to forget all those who died. I suppose that would be the perfect ending to this sorry saga. But let me tell you one thing: This isn't a fairy tale.

"Kill her," god commanded Jaune, and he obeyed his god.

Even as his mind screamed in terror, his body acted. The swords hanging behind him shot forwards faster than any of them could react. The first blade clattered off Pyrrha's Aura, the second knocked her off balance, the third sent her tumbling to the floor, the fourth drew blood, the fifth rent bone, so did the sixth, and the seventh, and the eighth. Pyrrha's shattered form barely had a chance to twitch.

As quickly as that Jaune found himself in control of his body. He stood there stunned. He hadn't even had time to believe he'd wanted it. God had commanded him and his body had simply obeyed. He couldn't tear his eyes away. He didn't even know if he wanted to.

Blood stained the carpet, spreading out into a crimson ellipse seeping towards him. He wished his vision couldn't pick out every shard of bone within the numerous wounds, every eviscerated piece of flesh. He wished he couldn't smell the oil on his weapons mixed with her blood, taste it in the very air. And he wished couldn't feel the air leaking from her ruptured lungs.

Just like last time.

Like last time.

"Pyyrha!" He fell to his knees beside her, waves of blood rippling outwards, and he thrust the entirety of his Aura towards her. This was what he'd been born to do. What he'd been put on this planet to do. His Semblance quested out, and found…

Nothing.

No answer to the desperate calls from his soul. No resonance that he knew so well. No hook for his abilities to latch onto. It had never been like this. He was always able to sense the other person, identify them. He knew Pyrrha's soul. Where it should be. What it felt like. He knew it intimately in more ways than one. But now, right at this moment, when she needed him most, there was just an empty pit where she'd once resided. She wasn't there anymore. Her empty eyes stared up at him, frozen in a moment of shock and pain.

And he'd been the one who had killed her.

Just like he'd always feared. It was his fault. The guilt pinned him to the floor. If he'd just been stronger, stood up to her, he could have left. And then she would have been safe.

Safe from him. From the soulless perversion of nature. The monster who only deserved to die. If it were possible, he would have wished himself out of existence right at that moment. But it wasn't possible, and he wouldn't escape so easily.

He'd murdered the girl he loved. His agony escaped his body using all the power within in the machination of evil. The air roared out of his lungs as he turned his face to the heavens and shook the windows.

It was a wordless cry, but one that needed no translation. No matter what language the person spoke, whether they were human or animal, or even Grimm. It transcended language. The vocalisation was primal, heard thousands of years ago, and would be heard thousands of years in the future. It tore something within him, something physical, some part not designed to cope with the strain. His very soul was cast into the heavens as he railed against the cruelty of existence.

And as his rage built his eyes settled on the one who had caused it. The one who had built Penny, built him. Who had forced him to kill the person he loved. Jaune surged upwards, ripping a blade from the sheath of Pyrrha's corpse, not even caring that he didn't grasp it by the handle. He leapt over the desk and put his full weight of torment behind the blow.

Joseph caught it in his hand. As simple as that. The sword skittered off the strongest Aura Jaune had ever encountered. Stronger than his by orders of magnitude. His most powerful strike had no effect.

White pinpricks of light turned Joseph's skin translucent. He reached out and touched Jaune's arm. It fell limp to his side, the sword clattering from his fingers. He couldn't move it, sense it. It was as if it belonged to someone else. As if it was no longer capable of holding his soul.

"What is given, can be taken away." The lights flared again. Joseph touched his other arm, and Jaune's soul was rejected from that limb as well. Jaune stood there, impotent, useless. He'd failed in everything in life. The world was better off without him.

Joseph glanced back at Pyrrha's corpse for a moment. "I gave you every chance to avoid this. This wasn't my intention. But I could not allow you to hurt anyone else. I made that mistake before. I've made that mistake too many times.

The pinpricks of white behind his skin turned into candles. "For what it's worth, I wish the pair of you happiness in whatever comes next."

His hand pressed against Jaune's heart and darkness reigned.

A/N: Well… This isn't a fairy tale. Many of you thought this was getting a little too fluffy. There you go. After everything Pyrrha did, she was never going to get anything resembling a happy ending.