Chapter 14: Broken Dreams

"Soaring Ninja Wins! Total Annihilation!"

"AGAIN?" she shouted at the game, clearly frustrated with her inability to defeat Uncle Qrow at this game, let alone an AI-controlled opponent. Her normally golden hair was now emanating a bright, almost fluorescent white color. For the moment, she was under control. Those deep, lilac eyes were enough of an indication of that. Maybe this isn't the best way to unwind for an evening, she thought, before deciding to throw a pillow at her game console to try to switch it off.

The throw was terrible. The pillow was, in fact, not a pillow at all. It was a dog. Zwei! Mistakes were made, she joked.

Zwei let out an almost comical yelp as he landed on the bookshelf below the projection display, which was still mocking Yang with her defeat. If her throw had been a few inches higher, her Corgi would probably be flying towards the ground right about now, several stories below them. "Sorry Zwei! Didn't realize you were laying next to me." Her dog cocked its head slightly to the left, and seemed to acknowledge the apology with light panting and his adorable tongue hanging out.

"I'm done with the TV if you want to watch something else," she said to her dog. Yang lay back on Blake's bed with an exasperated sigh. She had told her team that she just needed a little rest. It was enough to get them to give her a little space, but trying to sleep had been pointless. Too many thoughts were bouncing around inside of her head. Eating didn't do much for her either, considering that the only edible materials in the room were a pop tart that had been on the floor for a month and a lifetime supply of dog food. Unable to concentrate on anything else for the past two hours, Yang had done nothing but think about the previous night's events.

I'm NOT lying, she reassured herself again, but the evidence to the contrary was all around her. Every conversation in the past day, every video replay of the match, all of it pointed to what she'd done... or not done. Yang wasn't really sure any more. As she stared at the bottom of the bed frame balanced precariously above her, she began to recount the last moments of her fight in great detail… in the way she remembered them.

Mercury was clever, and the way that the fight started didn't favor him. His fighting style was based on kicking, which meant that fighting within arm's length was ideal for me. He needed more space than that. Even though he was an exceptionally skilled fighter, his strengths were mostly built around his ability to move unexpectedly through the bursts created by his gun-boot things. We're actually pretty similar in that regard. Firing Ember Celica at range was almost totally pointless, even though I did catch him with it a few times, he could almost always dodge the shot. Using it as a boost to my punches was much more effective.

And so we traded blows for a while until I was worn down enough to make it worth activating my semblance to turn the fight back in my favor. After that, five or six solid hits took him down, and the match was over. Maybe it wasn't my finest display of sportsmanship. Maybe "Better luck next time" was an arrogant thing to say. But regardless of what I said, it brings me to the divergence. I distinctly heard Mercury say "There's not going to be a next time, Blondie." in a hushed sort-of under-his-breath cadence. I'm honestly not even sure how his words made it to my ears, now that I think about it. The crowd was cheering, I was cheering and he had landed across the platform from me after my last punch.

Despite that, I whipped around pretty quickly. I mean, that sounds a lot like a threat to me. It looked like… No. I saw him lunge at me with a kick. From behind. After the match was called. I did the only thing I could to defend myself. And then… the boo-ing. At first it made sense, like, how could Mercury do something so… underhanded? But the replay screen… it showed something totally different, yet eerily similar all at the same time.

Her flashback was interrupted by the holographic display being switched from its video game input channel to the CCTV channel. Yang made some vain attempts to block out the sound, before deciding that she'd have to get off of Blake's formerly well-kept bed to turn off the television. As she rose from her supine position, she noticed that the voices that were coming from the TV sounded familiar.

"Alright! It is now time to begin the randomization process for our next fight!"

The Vytal Festival Tournament was now on the screen, and culprit sat quietly in the center of the room. She looked at Zwei, who had been chewing on the remote control. "I don't think I want to watch this right now." She stood up from her seated position on the end of the bed and took two steps toward her dog. She intended to reached out to free the controls from the jaws of the tiny Corgi, but there was no reaction from her body.

Yang stopped to think about the strange lack of function. Did my arm fall asleep when I was laying on the bed?

She glanced quickly down at her unresponsive right arm, as if she had suddenly become unsure that it was even there. The normally vibrant huntress suddenly became pale. Her stomach twisted itself in knots so tight that it hurt to breathe. From just above her elbow, down to the tip of her fingers, there was no Yang. All that remained was a translucent, almost ghostly projection of what had once been her arm. She could not come to grips with the sudden onslaught of mental and physical confusion. She tried to move her ghost arm.

And then, the pain began.

A blood curdling scream filled every square inch of the pitch black room. Yang was sweating feverishly, her burning red eyes darting back and forth created the only light outside of her equally radiant hair. There was a commotion coming from somewhere else in the room, but the laundry list of uncertainties and physical maladies that had befallen her meant that she couldn't determine the location. She thrashed about under her covers making incoherent half-primal, half-lingual pleas for help.

Then, a pair of freezing cold hands fell upon her. One holding her left arm, the other resting on her forehead. Unable to see the body to whom these hands belonged, Yang attempted to bat them away with her free arm. Another scream filled the room. The pain was now incomprehensible. She had never felt anything even remotely like it… and on top of everything else, there was still no response from her right arm.

She squeezed her eyelids closed instinctively, as if it would make everything better, but it didn't. The noises coming from her mouth still didn't make any sense. Yang was breathing fast, heavy breaths through her nose and her now-clenched teeth. The cold hand on her forehead was now trying to brush her hair out of her face. She still couldn't process thoughts coherently enough to understand any part of what was happening.

The darkness in the room temporarily retreated as a light came, first from the hallway, and then from the lamps connected to the lightswitch that had been flipped. Yang noticed the change in illumination through her eyelids, and attempted to open them to a squint.

The hands now had a body connected to them. A young girl, probably around her own age. She had long, white hair that had been let down, to hang free. Yang knew this girl. She tried to address her, but the name only barely escaped her mouth in the form of a desperate, confused whimper. "Weiss…?"

She slowed her animalistic convulsions as best as she was able, calming down just enough to notice the person responsible for turning on the lights was standing just inside the doorway contemplatively. She attempted to vocalize her thoughts again. "Uncle… Qrow…?"

The familiar faces in the room helped to calm her down. She had forgotten about the pain until she attempted to reach out to Weiss for comfort. There was no response. Again. Just more incredible pain. Yang moaned in agony. For the first time, she shifted her focus to her right arm. Time froze as she absorbed the image into her mind. There was nothing. Bandages… and then… nothing.

The other people in the room were saying something, Yang could see their mouths moving, but she couldn't process any of it. After a few moments, she finally forced herself to turn away from her injury. Her eyes met Weiss's. She unclenched her teeth, letting her jaw hang opened. She wanted to ask so many questions, but suddenly, it didn't really matter to her any more. The darkness began to return to her peripheral vision. She relaxed herself on the bed, and let it overtake her.

"It looks like our first contender is… Penny Polendina! From Atlas!"

Yang reconsidered her previous statement to Zwei. "Well, I guess if it's Penny… we can watch. It should be… worth… our time... eh?" Calling it a lukewarm attempt would have been generous. It was hardly her best work.

Zwei was less than impressed. He turned away from Yang to face the broadcast, then dropped the remote on the floor, before laying down on top of it. Some combination of buttons were mashed underneath Zwei, because the display screen turned off. Oddly, the sound continued to play, creating a de facto radio show for the room.

"And her opponent will be… Pyrrha Nikos, from Beacon!"

This most recent announcement piqued her interest. Pyrrha, oh man. Poor Penny, she thought. Looking back toward Zwei, she spoke again "Pyrrha's going to win this tournament. I know you probably don't even really care, but that's my two cents…" I'll be here all week, ladies and gentlemen.

Yang knew that Pyrrha was the best of the best at Beacon. She had hoped to get a shot against her, but considering the disqualification, any fight between the two would have to wait until next year's tournament. While she fantasized about what a grand spectacle that match would be, the analysts from the tournament broadcast droned on in the background. They rattled off a detailed analysis of fighting styles and physical attributes. It seemed odd that Pyrrha's accolades were nearly endless, but Penny was a bit of an unknown.

Yang shooed Zwei away from the remote, intent on finding a way to bring the picture back. It's Pyrrha versus Penny. I'm not missing this, she mused. After a brief introduction to the two fighters for any newcomers to the tournament, Professor Oobleck prepared to give the countdown to start the fight. "Wait, wait, wait, I'm not ready!" she pleaded with the remote in her hands.

"Three!"

"Two!"

"I got it!" she exclaimed. Zwei had evidently put his paw on the button that controlled the opaqueness of the projection.

"One!"

Yang increased the setting, and the visual display returned just in time for the cue to commence the fight, "Begin!"

She stood in front of the display as Penny began to manipulate her swords masterfully, making the first move. Pyrrha's evasion was even more perfect. Yang was glad she was watching now. Her mood had been pretty depressing all day long, but this took her mind off of her own fight from the previous night. It was completely enthralling. The action was back and forth. One combatant would take the advantage, then the other. They were both skilled in all manners of both ranged and close quarter actions.

The analysts were giving high praise to Penny, and deservedly so. Yang estimated that she had never seen Pyrrha pushed this hard before. Well, other than that time in the Emerald Forest with the Death Stalker. But I don't think any of those are competing this year. The thought of a giant scorpion Grimm competing in the tournament made her smile uncontrollably for some reason.

The clash went on, each side trading blow for blow until Pyrrha was knocked off of her feet by a flying charge from Penny. "She dropped her weapon!" Yang was now shouting at the screen, shocked at seeing the four time Mistral-Regional Champion so helpless in a combat situation. And then it happened.

Just as Penny launched what should have been a finishing blow with all of her swords, Pyrrha reflected the blow with her semblance. This time was different though. She never overplayed the use of her polarity. The sheer force of this particular outburst was staggering and even, Yang thought, somewhat reckless. The force of the countermeasure sent the swords careening out of control in the opposite direction. The connective tethers, in some cases, wrapped around Penny and… literally tore her into pieces.

A stunning silence overtook her room. Yang was silent, the analysts were silent, the crowd was silent and Zwei was a dog. The cameras capturing the action from the fight were now focused on the carnage. The first words spoken were by Yang. "What in the world of Remnant…?" she asked rhetorically. Her eyes focused on the sparks and pieces of metal that filled the fleshy exterior of the… girl... she used to know.

Memories from the previous night now crept back into Yang's head. This is a whole separate mess, she thought. It hurt her to think that now someone else would have to share in her misery and depression. Actually, now that she thought about it, it wasn't a mental pain, she had begun to ache all over her body.

She turned away from the TV just as Professor Port pleaded in disbelief, "...no…" A few moments passed before he spoke again. "She's waking up!"

Wait, what? Who's waking up? Yang wondered, also still contemplating the sudden pain.

"She's waking up! Get the doctor... Quickly!"

The pain was greatly reduced this time, as Yang opened her eyes again to the same unfamiliar room as before. Her vision was blurry, but this time, she could tell that there was light coming from the lamps and also from an unknown source off to her left somewhere. She also saw another bed in the same direction as the mystery light, but her eyes weren't cooperating enough to be able to identify the shadowy figure laying on it.

"They've got you on pain medication kiddo, so maybe a little less screaming this time," a garbled voice said from the other side of the room.

The lag in her physical reaction times and movement made her feel like she was in a pool full of chocolate pudding. "I like pudding," she declared to her audience of blurs and scribbles. There was an audible laughter, but Yang didn't understand why. Suddenly, a face appeared within a few inches of her own. It was familiar, but the haze that had enveloped her brain was too thick for carefully chosen words. "Hey… I remember you, ice-hands lady," she babbled.

"Well of course, THAT, would be the thing she remembers," Weiss complained. Shaking off the unintentional insult, she spoke slowly and clearly, "How are you feeling?"

Without the ability to move much, or feel much because of the painkillers, she responded as honestly as she could. "Something hurts… and nothing feels good... I can't see much... and I'm still really tired."

The other voice spoke up from across the room. "All things considered, that's not too bad. Try to keep resting, Yang. When you feel up to it, we all need to talk to you about… a lot of stuff that happened while you were out of it."

A barely audible "Okay..." was the only response she was able to give before passing out again.

Qrow took up a position leaning against the wall next to her bed. "Sweet dreams, firecracker."