Chapter 3. Reunion, Reconstruction, Recreation

Morning on Patch. The smoking ruins of Vale, and of Beacon Academy, were for now only a memory, but the wounds and the damage and the memories were still there, still haunting. At least none of their friends had died.

Had Jaune been anyone else, he would have been furious. Pyrrha had effectively abandoned him, forcing him to flee the battlefield—did she really think he'd miss her that little?—before marching like some selfless hero to what was sure to be her untimely demise. But when he'd seen a brilliant figure, wreathed in flame, raining devastation on the Grimm that surrounded the tower, the terror and adrenaline that had sustained him through the preceding fireworks display had given way to desperate, incredible relief, and he had collapsed against a ruined building. Pyrrha herself had reached him not long afterward, the Mendicant's arrival alone preventing them, exhausted as they were, from falling asleep in a tangle in the middle of Vale.

The Mendicant. Jaune hadn't spoken to him much yet, although Ruby maintained that he was an alien from a distant time and planet, an assertion he supposed was granted some credibility by the stranger's long disappearances into his giant-clock box, which he insisted would help repair the Cross-Continental Transmit System. Whoever he was, Jaune owed him the world. For now, he sat on the roof of Ruby's home, staring out at the forest and the sea.

"Pyrrha?"

"Yes, Jaune?"

"Why did you do it? I don't know what I would have done if you'd left like that. I don't know what any of us would have done. I just need to know why."

Pyrrha put her arm around Jaune, leaning into him as she replied. "I had to do everything I could to protect you, Jaune. To protect everyone. I knew that even both of us together couldn't succeed where Ozpin had failed. We needed help, but someone needed to slow Cinder down, to keep her from winning then and there. I thought—I hoped—that you could get help fast enough—"

"And I failed." Jaune's gaze was hollow, his eyes focused on nothing as he stared ahead and down. "Everything you did to help me, and I still wasn't good enough to help you."

"Don't say that, Jaune," she insisted. "None of us were good enough. Not me, not Ozpin. I have no idea how the Mendicant did what he did. You performed admirably, and I'm very, very proud of you, Jaune. I'm proud of how far you've come, I'm proud of everything you did last night, and—and I love you."

"So then why did you leave me?" Jaune pushed himself out of her half-embrace, gripping her by the shoulders. "I—I heard everything you just said, but I still can't understand why."

"Jaune." It was Pyrrha's turn to look distressed again, as she stepped back and looked down, as if searching for the spot where sea and island met, hidden beneath the cliff's edge. After a moment, she turned back to him, taking his hands in hers, meeting his eyes with her green ones that were filled with emotion. "Do you remember when I asked if you believe in destiny?"

"Uh, yeah. But what's that got to do with this? I thought you said it was your destiny to become a Huntress, not to die when you're still in training."

Pyrrha pulled Jaune in close and hugged him tight. She held the embrace until he reciprocated, and then for a moment more, before she again stepped back.

"I—I asked at the time what you'd do if something completely unexpected happened, something that seemed to stand in the way of your destiny. Only I was wrong about what that something was. When Professor Ozpin offered me the Fall Maiden's powers, it was to protect the part of those powers that the woman we battled had not yet stolen. Our very life forces would have been bound together. But last night, I realized that, if I were going to be a Huntress, I couldn't let anything stop me from trying to help people, even if that meant my own death. Most Huntsmen and Huntresses don't live to a peaceful retirement, Jaune, and in the world we find ourselves in now, that's even more unlikely. I would never want to leave you, Jaune, but more than that I had to do everything I could to protect you."
"I don't want you to protect me!"

"I know. I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry, Jaune. But if that situation ever happens again, I still won't hesitate to place your life above mine."

"I—I guess I understand. As long as you know I'd do the exact same."

"I suppose I can live with that."
"You'd better, because I'm staying right here. And as far as I'm concerned, we both have long lives ahead of us, and I'd really like to face them together."

"That sounds wonderful."

Downstairs, Ozpin, Qrow, Ironwood, and the Schnees were locked in a heated argument while Ren quickly vacated the kitchen, platter of pancakes in hand, to make room for the vicious quarrel.

"She is my daughter! I will not allow her to remain in this kingdom! We are returning—all of us—to Atlas, where it is safe."

Qrow snorted, taking a sip from his flask. "Safe? It's not safe anywhere, Stark. Half the damage that was done last night was the fault of your crazy robots."

Stark Schnee cast a dark look at Qrow, his flask in particular, but Ironwood stepped in before he could respond. "Qrow is right. I don't know how they did it, but someone got on board one of our ships last night and was able both to destroy all of our other cruisers and to take control of the androids and the Paladins. With our technology at risk and the other kingdoms having seen nothing more or less than Atlesian military assets being unleashed on the citizens of another kingdom—in the middle of the Vytal festival, no less—and the revelation of our experiments into artificial sentience, Atlas is neither particularly safe nor in good standing with the other kingdoms. If you want to return, that is fine, and someone does need to in order to take action against future security breaches. But your daughter is safest, both physically and developmentally, if she stays with her team, and stays here."

"I'm right here," Weiss spoke up for the umpteenth time that morning. "And for the record, I agree with the general. There's no reason to believe that Atlas is any safer than here, and at least here I have my friends with me. Yang and Blake are both badly hurt, and we've all been through a great deal in the past few days. I'm staying."

"Listen here," Stark frowned, his mustache quivering in anger.

"Miss Schnee is right," Ozpin interrupted him. "And so are Qrow and James. Our priority now has to be the restoration of the Cross-Continental Transmit System, and the priority of our students should be their full emotional and physical recovery. Your daughter herself has said, and I am inclined to agree with her, that here, with her team, is the best place for all of them to do that."

Stark sighed. "Very well. Winter and I will return to Atlas and begin work on securing our technology from hostile takeover. General, I trust you will follow once the CCTS is restored. Gentlemen, daughter, good day."

With that, he swept heavily out of the room and allowed the door to shut just as heavily behind him. Almost as soon as he was gone, Ozpin's scroll rang.

"Miss Schnee," the headmaster said kindly, "why don't you go join your friends for breakfast and share the good news."

Weiss would have preferred to see how someone was calling Ozpin's scroll with the CCTS down, but she accepted her professor's dismissal, anticipating that any significant news relating to the CCTS would soon be common knowledge.

When Ozpin opened his scroll, the Mendicant was on the other end.

"Hey, Oz. I'm making a direct call from my ship to your scroll for the moment, but I think I've figured out a way to temporarily restore the CCTS. I'm going to need some help to get this old thing upstairs, but if Glynda or Miss Nikos has the energy, we'll have communications back online across the planet as soon as they can get to the vault."

Ozpin nodded. "I believe Glynda remained in Vale overnight, and she is likely exhausted. However, Miss Nikos should be able to reach Beacon fairly quickly, and Miss Nikos and Mister Arc are already aware of the vault and its location. I take it this means you will be staying with us for some time?"

On screen, the Mendicant gave a dithering shrug. "For a while, at least. You're probably right about Glynda; she's been working nonstop since the battle ended, and I'm not sure how she's still on her feet. Alright, send the kids over, staying cooped up won't be any good for the ones who aren't badly hurt. Repairing the actual control tower will take more than just Glynda having a rest, or I'd never have given a thought to this, but I suppose I'll actually be making myself useful around here. See you later, Oz."

The image on Ozpin's scroll winked out. The headmaster nodded to Qrow, who turned headed up after Ren.

"So, how exactly did you do that thing with the fire and the changing faces?"

The Mendicant laughed at Jaune's expression. Since the previous night, he had managed to change into a dark, vibrant, flower-print shirt, a long, blue coat (in contrast to his previous long, black one), and buckled boots beneath rolled, suspendered pants. "There's more things scattered across the folds of space and time than are dreamt of in most philosophies, kid," he answered. "I may look human, but I'm not really. My people are from a lost planet, far away, called Gallifrey. We are known across the universe as Time Lords, and one of the things that makes us most remarkable is that every one of us has thirteen lives. Cinder Fall was a dangerous fighter, but we remain incredibly good healers for hours after we die and regenerate."

"So when you allowed her to shoot you, you took away her ability to actually harm you," Pyrrha marveled.

"More or less. There are ways to kill a Time Lord, but they aren't quite common knowledge, and as powerful as she was, there are more dangerous creatures out there. The real trick was the sword. A crystal-metal lattice composed in the time-flux forges of Canavis Major, capable of piercing almost any energy shield or psionic defenses. The people it was made for were not nice ones, but I've put it to good use on a few occasions since I met them. Yes, I stole it. Much like the Tardis here. Now, just a moment."

He ducked inside, and the beacon atop the hexagonal clock chamber lit up a brilliant blue-green. Jaune glanced at Pyrrha.

"How much of that do you think is true?" he asked her.

"After what I saw last night? I honestly can't think of any other explanation."

Before they could continue, the Mendicant reappeared. "Excellent. Lines of communication are back up across Remnant, which means your headmaster and General Ironwood—and I don't envy him—are going to have some explaining to do for the frightened, ignorant masses, especially the frightened, ignorant masses of Mistral and Vacuo, plus the leaders of those particular kingdoms. Anyhow, you two get on back to your friends—give my regards to your teammates, by the way—and I'll just put the finishing touches on restoring a few minor conveniences around here."

The Mendicant drew a metal stick fitted with buttons, lights, and a weapon-like emitter end—his electrostatic spanner, he'd explained, whatever that meant—, saluted the students with it, and vanished once more into his strange machine. Jaune and Pyrrha shared another glance at one another; looked out over the city, the bay, and the morning sun; and headed for the elevator they'd repaired on their way up.