A/N: Yay, more Forge! As always, please let us know what you think. Any and all feedback gives us warm fuzzies!

~Angel and Hel

Chapter Seven: Emergence Part II

-.-.-

She didn't even realise she'd fallen asleep until she woke up. Her head hurt, a fuzzy kind of dry hurt that pricked at the back of her eyes. It wasn't pleasant. Not one bit.

"Hey," Helia greeted her softly from an arm's length away.

Winter closed her eyes. She'd - moon above she'd acted like a fool. And that girl had drugged her. And Helia had saved her, and she'd - oh she'd vomited all over her as thanks. She assumed that the berserker had been stopped. She hoped she had, at least.

"Why did you save me?" Winter hauled herself upright.

Helia looked down at her hands and twiddled her thumbs, mumbling something unintelligible. From the looks of it, she'd just finished getting her wing cleaned.

"Helia. You're - " Winter sighed, and tried to moderate her words. "Whatever favour you think I can grant you or your family, you're mistaken."

"Don't have family."

"Regardless. I'm - not my father. I have no influence over his policies. Less than none, now I'm gone. Whatever you - think I'm capable of, I can't do it. I want to repay you. I really do. But... "

Helia whispered something that Winter nearly missed. "It's not about what you can do. It's about what your actions cause."

"I don't understand." She cautiously rested a hand on Helia's own.

"You're… you're not meant to." Helia shook her head and pulled away. "You have more influence than you think." she said, grabbing her blindfold and slipping it down over her eyes again as she turned her back to Winter.

"I have no influence. That's what this is about! It's about - making a real difference with my actions, not my name, not who I know. Going out there and changing things."

"You, not you. From you. Outside, without. The impact not the fall." Helia mumbled, her voice sounding slightly… off as she rattled off her gibberish.

"That doesn't make any more sense." Winter frowned. "I do things and they do things? Is that right? That's the point of doing things, to have an impact."

Helia groaned and shifted, flopping down with her face in her pillow, muttering to herself repeatedly. "... follow the red path, don't follow the red path, don't follow…"

Winter's face shifted to an expression of concern. "Helia? Are you ok?" She reached out again for Helia's thin little hand, squeezed it. "I didn't mean to sound angry. This is something I feel strongly about, and I'm sorry I took out my anger with - my father and the girl who hurt me on my rescuer."

"It's… it's not your fault. It is your- no no no-!" Helia growled and shoved her face into her pillow harder.

Winter pulled on her hand, drawing her up and wrapping her arms around her. "It's ok. Whatever it is, it's ok. I'm here now."

"It's not okay it's never okay the more I say the worse it gets it's just endless." Helia cried, her tears wetting Winter's shirt. "Whether you know it or not you're the fucking lynchpin," she sobbed, hugging Winter in a tight yet still surprisingly weak grip. "It's- it's all on you. Can't - can't tread down the red path," she broke off into quiet, shuddering sobs.

Winter gently tried to pat between her wings. "I don't understand. But thank you for saving me. It was very kind of you. Especially after how - rude I was at first. And then the thing with my sister." She blushed. She hadn't meant to say that.

The sobs coming from her chest slowly turned to laughs. "You tried to eat my hair." she giggled.

"I was drugged! On - on snake venom! And you were lying on my - my torso!"

Helia giggled harder and smiled - wait. She felt that smile.

"Oh no you don't!" Winter scowled, trying to stop herself from smiling as she tried to push an enthusiastic Helia out of her bust. "Get out of there, you!"

"But it's so comfyyy!" Helia whined, squirming and trying to cuddle in again.

"It's not appropriate! And - what about this pillow, that's got to be more comfy than those are." She did her best not to blush.

"You're warm! And cuddly!" Helia argued, slipping out of Winter's grasp - her last utterances were completely muffled by her 'pillows'.

Winter was, by her estimation, likely the colour of a rather ripe plum. "Resting your head on them is, just about acceptable - burying your face in them like you're my - paramour, is not!"

"Fooff fad!" Helia mumbled, nuzzling her and seemingly determined to continue until Winter accepted that she was very snuggleable.

"Helia." She patted her head a little. "I'm only accepting this because you were upset."

Aaand she was asleep. Because of course she was.

Winter sighed, lay back, closed her eyes and tried to ignore the fact that there was a small girl pressing her face into her breasts. She wasn't very successful… Helia still reminded her of Weiss.

She missed home. But she was right when she said this was important. But - she wished Weiss could be here. With her sharp wit and voice and laughter. God, homesick already, already missing the long quiet halls and the library and the high arches of the training room. The… home.

She sighed again. She was doing this for Weiss. For Atlas.

That was the whole point, wasn't it?

-.-.-

You are not forgotten. You are lost. A shining soul the bulwark against despair the first flag to fall. You fight. You fight. You fall. You forge on.

They are not forgotten. They are not gone. You carry them on your shoulders but refuse to spread the pillars.

You fall.

They fall with you.

Alone.

Alone to the last breath. Even then you will not give up. Because you are the last. You are alone.

The furious bastion.

You raise them. Build them. You lead them.

An empire rises and you forge them. The bulwark has turned into a legion.

You are many.

You share your burdens. Many hands make light work.

The warrior empress.

It was taken. It was all taken.

Never forget. Never forgive.

Make them pay.

-.-.-

Yolona came to with a groan. Her first reaction upon consciousness was to grit her teeth and open her eyes. Can't let herself get lazy. If she was awake she needed to be moving. Be ready.

Her eyelids fluttered as she slowly adjusted to the bright light. Growling, she looked around for her helmet. Who dared take it from her?

What… what had happened? Why was she here?

Two grey and red mechs standing by the door, each flanked by a TSO in heavy combat gear.

"Oh, good, you're awake!" A woman stood over her, her silhouette blocking the light. "That shock you took was quite severe. You've got a powerful weapon there young lady."

In any normal situation, Yolona would have snorted and ignored the perky nurse. But since this most definitely wasn't a normal situation, she grunted dismissively and tried to heave herself upright but stopped when her armour stayed down.

"I'm afraid we've had to keep you still in case you become upset again. General Ironwood doesn't seem to think there'll be much more danger, but better safe than sorry."

Yolona growled, and started lifting her arm. It was a strain. She almost moved it before she heard a dangerous creak coming from it and stopped. Breaking the armour… that was not something she was willing to do just for a moment's freedom. "Let me out."

"I'm afraid we can't until we're sure that you won't… lose your temper again."

She gritted her teeth. She had not lost her temper for years. Testing something, she shifted her arm from side to side, getting a scraping noise. Magnets. Magnets were strong… She lifted her head to look, before giving up and letting it drop against the bed. The frame was much weaker than the magnets.

"Do you remember what happened? What you did?"

"No." Yolona rumbled, shifting her arm again. There was nothing to keep her armour contained by the magnets...

"You went berserk. Technically, not metaphorically - "

"NO." Yolona interrupted her, sliding her arm off the magnets and reaching over to grab her by the throat. "I KNOW what a Berserker rage is like and that was NOT it."

The TSOs drew their guns, the mechs arms transformed. Gnats.

"We - checked - your - system. No unnatural - traces. Just standard - endocrinal hormones. You went berserk." The woman did her best to pat Yolona's arm. "It's - fine. Happens - to the best - Berserkergang Hunters."

Yolona scoffed and pushed her away, reaching around to yanks the thick cables from the wall leading to the bed. "That was not a real rage. Sparring does not induce fighting to the last breath."

"You'd be surprised." The voice was soft, breathy, unexpected.

"If it were that easy," Yolona started, turning to glare, "The last bar brawl would have ended much differently."

The person who spoke was shrouded in grey, rags and tatters that completely covered their form. Neither the soldiers nor the mechs seemed to react to their presence. They took a step towards Yolona, head tilting.

"You've never fought Huntsmen in a spar before. The experience is different than a bar brawl."

"It came too fast, too hard, to be natural." Yolona argued, folding her arms and standing her ground.

"What is natural? The rage chooses when it comes. It is not a chemical process, it is a living, breathing thing and you have not been feeding it." Their last words are a hiss. "No matter. The General has sent me to you. I am Myrrha. Should you join this school, you will join the other students in class. But you will also join me to learn to control and unleash your strength. So that it comes, and goes, with every fight. Mm?"

Yolona shook her head. "That, whatever it was, was not natural. But I do look forward to controlling it," she stood up straighter, and stopped glaring. "I am Yolona. I never thought I would see another outside of family."

"I have seen a few others. Very few."

Looking around, Yolona finally spotted her helmet and reached for it. "There aren't many of us left," she said, securing it firmly over her head again.

"Mm."

"If you would let me go, I need to retrieve my gear," she growled, glaring at the guards by the door, who still seemed to have their weapons trained on her.

"You seem to be recovered. Go, then." The person gestured, and the guards reluctantly stood aside. "I hope to see you at the end of this."

Yolona grinned and nodded to her before leaving. "A worthy goal."

-.-.-

Like a flash in the pan, in every sense, a spark and silence.

Nothing more, nothing less. But maybe something in between.

Careless. Observant. Limited. Trapped. Rushed.

An oblivious smile hides a shattered soul. Laughing and laughing as the blood washes higher to hold back the dark until he's laughing at the darkness, laughing with it, letting it consume him to stay sane on second longer.

Or maybe it pulls back together. The fracture reverses, entropy lifts the egg from the floor, scooping the broken yolk into a whole and then into a sealing shell. Tick tock goes the clock.

How long. How long until the wrong moment, the wrong joke, the wrong fight?

How long until you break?

How long until you crumble to pieces?

How long until you scatter, like ashes in the wind?

Loose cannon. Be wary of the spark.

-.-.-

"Now we've all finished chuckling." Heavy bootsteps. Deathstroke must've been be pissed. "Let's talk about why what you did was stupid."

Maverick raised his hand to give Slade a thumbs up. "Nah, I'm good," he said, continuing to blankly stare at the ceiling, that one goddamn rock digging into his back.

"I - I know it was stupid. There's no need to tell me. I tried to attack another applicant - "

"Fucking hell, that's not it. It's that you attacked one who was helping take out the berserk lunatic. What. Were. You. Thinking?!"

"I - "

"If I may interject," Maverick started, lifting his head to lazily look at his pal, "As a self-confessed master of doing whatever the fuck seems like a good idea at the time, we don't really give it much thought. We just… do," he said, waving his hand a little, before shrugging.

"That's - that's not a good reason to do anything at-fucking-all!" Man, Deathstroke was very pissed. "She could have killed us all. She might easily have done it if you hadn't done… moderately well at distracting her."

"Eh, it's probably one of those wrinkles we came here to smooth out." Maverick shrugged, reaching under him to pull out that damn rock and lay back down. Damn, that was much better.

Ash frowned and opened her mouth for a moment, obviously searching for words. "Wh- did- does he actually have a point?" she asked incredulously.

"No!" Necrogirl's voice was firm, but anguished. "W-what I did was wrong, and he's right. It was inexcusable. I - I let my personal feelings get in the way of the safety of my teammates. That's the least Huntsman-like behaviour ever."

"Not Huntsman yet!" Maverick reminded her, pointing at the ceiling before letting his arm flop down again. Damn, he really needed to stop overdoing it on his Semblance. At this rate he was going to feel lazy and lethargic for like… ages.

"And I won't be if I do that again. I can't deny that I want her to pay for everything, but I won't exact that price on the field of battle. That's unacceptable."

Maverick groaned and rubbed his forehead. "What exactly is the bad blood between you two anyways?"

"It's none of your goddamn business." Ash growled at him. He swore that voice gave him a buzzing headache for some reason…

"Ash." Aphoth's voice was gentle. She sighed, then said, "I can't say. I can't. If I do, they kill me, my mother, Ash, all of you, and probably my extended family as well just in case. And yours."

Raising his head, Maverick looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "So… are you two like long lost sisters or something…" he trailed off, mostly because of several angry glares in his direction. "Or something. Got it."

"Dumbass." Ash grumbled.

"Hey, at least I didn't get faceplanted through a pillar!" Maverick shot right back.

"Is this really the time?" Deathstroke was being such a killjoy - good thing guitar girl wasn't listening to him.

"At least I'm up and moving." Ash smirked. "You've got zero stamina if you can barely even last one fight!"

"At least I didn't sleep through it."

"Will you shut up!?" Ash shouted at him.

Maverick smirked. "Make me."

Ash got to her feet with a scowl and stomped over to him, looking pretty damn pissed. Which was the moment Titian entered, ducking her head to step through the doorframe.

"Hey," Maverick gave a little wave in greeting, completely throwing Ash off. "What's happenin'?"

"Wh- how can you just- ARGH!" she stamped her feet in frustration before going back to Aphoth and sulking. Maverick smiled to himself. One bruising, happily avoided.

Titian frowned a little, though it was hard to tell behind that collar. "Little. Some of our comrades have received injuries too grievous to continue with the Trials, but the majority are in acceptable health."

"She reeealllly did a number on some of 'em, huh?" Maverick grimaced, before lying back down. "I think I'mma just take a nap or something."

A boot prodded him in the side. "No. We must discuss our response to Bastion."

"Who now?" Necrocutie was clearly still kinda out of it. And he had to remind himself not to call Necrocutie… Necrocutie. He liked his ears where they were, thank you very much.

"If I had to take a guess… the giant berserker girl?" Maverick supplied, shifting a little in his rock pile.

Titian nodded.

"She's dangerous." Ol' grumpy Deathstroke was firm. "Berserkers aren't safe. All the stories make that clear."

"I uhh…" Ash stopped her sulking for a moment, "Haven't… actually heard any of them," she said nervously. "I kinda regret that now."

"They're cursed." Titian's arms fold as she leaned back against the wall. "They have the rage of the Grimm in their veins. The remnants of a beast that was so violent, so full of hunger it turned against its own kind." Maverick raised an eyebrow at that.

Slade rolled his eyes. "That's a myth. There's no hint of grimmstuff in any berserker blood."

"To be fair, grimmstuff tends to… y'know, fluff off after death and I don't think a live dissection of a berserker is even possible." Maverick piped up.

"They're cursed. Humans who made a pact with the Grimm, who turned on their kind for power and became outcasts among both. Like Grimm, they get stronger as they get older. Smarter, faster, more able to control their rage. It's said that the oldest and strongest berserkers are in that rage, that state of heightened perception speed and strength all the time, that they never leave it, only tempering and directing their rage to other sources."

Ash fidgeted on the spot. "Well that sounds… pretty grim, to be hon-"

Maverick snorted.

"Oh you little shit-"

"No, no, ignore me, continue," Maverick waved her off, suppressing his laughter with shaking shoulders.

"I'm guessing that from that you're not keen on her." Aphoth's voice was dry.

"On the contrary. A curse is not its bearer's fault, especially as it's unlikely she was one of the first-bearers. And her capability in combat will certainly be useful. I merely want to make sure that this is understood, that despite her bearing the taint of Grimm this is not her fault."

"There are other theories out there," Maverick reminded her, still unable to keep that smirk off his face at Ash's pun. "Like that uhh… who was he…" he mumbled, trying to remember.

"Dr. Klaus Schwartz." Slade's expression was cautious though - why would he… oh, a Schwartz, and Titian's little rant earlier.

"Okay, just wanna say, while I don't support their morals, they do have some pretty good theories," Maverck interrupted quickly before Titian could follow up on that glare.

"Theories based on torture." Tallgirl was growling, hands unfolded and held at her side, spiked gauntlets trembling.

"Regardless. He theorised that it was simply a form of hereditary semblance - a sub semblance, as it were, tied to a number of bloodlines. Or aura transfer or hereditary souls or something. The technical terms went over my head."

"Huh… I guess they don't like publishing their methods then, cos I hadn't heard of that until now," Maverick did his best to apologize. It was a pretty sobering moment after Ash's… yeah. There went his good mood again.

Aphoth shrugged. "It makes sense. Even if Klaus is a vile little prick."

Ash looked confused. It was a really adorable look on her and it didn't look like something he'd see often. "So… they got cursed by Grimm and it… went with their kids?"

"Applicants, please finish preparations for the next Trial. You will be collected and guided to the area within an hour."

A chorus of groans arose from around the Atrium.

-.-.-

Cold. Cold.

Ice.

A man smirks cometakeit. Her sister learns/does not learn/never learns because she is dead, torn apart by unnatural steelflesh. She returns/does not return/never returns detonated by a bloodfeud. A woman wreathed in fire kills her. A giant wolfen beast kills her. A man with shimmering boots kills her.

All these paths into darkness, and so few into light. Weave the threads. Make her live.

Make Winter live.

Don't- don't tread the red path.

-.-.-