Another Saturday another chapter.

Thanks for the reviews last chapter, and I had an interesting question posed.

What is Crue's real name?

He had a name before ending up in Remnant, something I've purposefully left unanswered. Though I have given some hints as to what it might be in EHL. I won't come out and say, because I think that might ruin the surprise. But don't worry, all will be revealed in time.

On with the chapter!

"One more step. One… More… GAH!" Pyrrha Nikos cried out in pain as she stumbled, gritting her teeth as she held onto the two railings on either side of her.

"Pyrrha!" Her mother quickly moved to Pyrrha's side, resting a hand on her shoulder as the spartan struggled to stand. Pelé helped her daughter to her feet, despite her requests not to. "You need to stop pushing yourself so hard."

"I have to." Pyrrha countered immediately, a glare that wasn't directed at her mother springing to life on her face. "I need to get better. I need to be stronger." She grabbed the rehabilitation bars once more and took another step, only to stumble once more.

"That's enough." A deeper voice instructed. Pyrrha looked up, as a formidable man approached her. "If you push yourself too far, you'll only make it worse, Peanut." The voice softened, as green eyes looked upon the form of her father.

He looked nothing like her. All of her genes she had gotten from her mother. Her father was a huge man with broad shoulders and muscles that were pocketed with various scars. He had tanned skin and a set of dark blue eyes that seemed to hold a whole ocean in their depths.

His normally sternly chiselled features were soft in the face of his daughter, and the dark blue hair and beard that stood up at odd angles. All of this intimidating persona was lost, however, when Pyrrha got a look at his shirt.

It was a chibified version of her own face, but it was stretched much too far thanks to the chest of the one wearing it. "DAD!" Pyrrha complained, blushing madly from a mixture of embarrassment and anger. "I told you not to wear those things!"

"And not show support for my amazing daughter?! Out of the question!" He stood tall, puffing his chest out, which only proved to worsen the already stretched cartoon version of her face.

The spartan could almost hear her image pleading for death. "Kill… me… please…" It whispered in her mind. "Moooom." Pyrrha turned to her mother, her previous anger at failing to walk now overshadowed by mortification.

"Now, Theta, dear." Her mother walked over and placed a hand gently on her husband's arm. "You know how Pyrrha feels when you wear those things." She looked up at Theta, a small smile playing on her features.

"Pride and accomplishment?"

"No, dear. Regret that she ever fell out of me." "MOM!" Pyrrha's face was red, the pain from before the furthest thing from her mind as her parents took turns making her wish she was never born. It helped distract her, as eventually she managed to laugh.

Her parents smiled at her fondly, as her father took a moment to bring over a set of crutches. Pyrrha gave a sigh as she accepted them, holding her injured foot above the ground as she made herself comfortable.

"You don't need to come to every session." Pyrrha murmured under her breath.

"Nonsense." Her father stated. "I would sooner jump off Atlas than allow my little girl to go through this on her own." He gently placed an arm around her shoulder.

"I'm not a little girl anymore." Pyrrha replied, looking to the side and pouting her lips together, looking remarkably like a little girl, in fact. The three started to make their way out of the room that contained various rehabilitation equipment.

Her mother exited first, quickly checking from side to side before giving the all clear to her family. The people at the hospital were respectful of their patients and didn't bother her or barrage her with questions that didn't have anything to do with her recovery.

A man in a long white coat looked up as they exited. "Ah, Ms. Nikos. How were your exercises today?" He had navy hair and a pair of halfmoon spectacles on the bridge of his nose.

"Not as fruitful as I would have liked, Doctor Ascel." Pyrrha replied politely.

The Doctor gave a soft hum as his dark brown eyes glanced downward to Pyrrha's leg. "That is to be expected. A torn achilles usually takes months to heal and considering yours was pierced through it stands to reason it may take a while longer."

"I understand." Pyrrha's green eyes were downcast as her eyebrows knit together in a soft frown. "I just hoped my Aura would speed up the process."

"Aura is… many things, Ms. Nikos. It can be a sword and shield, as you yourself no doubt know." The Doctor leaned down on his cane, an oxymoronic looking thing for a healer to have. A carving of a snake wrapped around the cane, coming to a stop at the head. "And it can heal, certainly. But it is better at healing minor wounds. Something as serious as this takes time."

Pyrrha nodded silently. She knew this. She had been told it all before, but still she dared to hope. That there was some sudden breakthrough in Aura or medical technology that would allow her to walk without issue once more.

"Thank you, Doctor." She said quietly, using her crutches to walk around the man and towards the exit. Her parents quickly caught up with her, after exchanging a few more words with Doctor Ascel. Her mother walked alongside her, ready to support her if needs be while her father walked behind them, acting as the world's most devoted bodyguard.

They made their way out of the hospital without much issue, but it was the moment they stepped outside that Pyrrha quickly felt her day get worse. Flashes of light blinded her, as she held up a hand to shield her eyes.

"Nikos!" "Ms Niko!" "Nikos, how is your rehabilitation going?" "Will you ever fight again?"

"ENOUGH!" Theta roared, stepping forward to shield Pyrrha from the photographers. "My daughter is still recovering and does not need you vultures hounding at her!" His words probably would have been a lot more intimidating if his shirt didn't have an awkwardly stretched picture of his daughter's face on it.

Pelé quickly moved her daughter forward toward a waiting car. There weren't as many paparazzi as there were when she had her first session, Pyrrha thought idly as she got into the car with blacked out windows.

She supposed her recovery was becoming stale news. Everyone knew that she had been injured in the Fall of Beacon. Everyone knew that she could barely walk without an aide of some kind. Everyone knew, which meant no one cared.

She wished that meant there would be no more pictures, but no, everyone wanted to be the first to report the Invincible Girl's return to battle. It meant she never got a moment of peace. She almost considered returning to Haven for her recuperation, if only so that the paparazzi couldn't get to her.

But, if she did that, she would be alone once more. Without family. Without friends. Her heart sank as she thought of her friends. Jaune, Nora, Ren. She missed them. More than anything. More than Beacon, more than the freedom from the press, she missed them.

Ren would have helped her with the rehabilitation. He knew Aura better than anyone, and would probably be able to help her channel it in some way to speed up the healing process. He would be patient, proactive, and probably make her some of those strange health drinks that were meant to help.

Nora would have distracted her from the pain. With her insane stories that always managed to get her to smile from the ridiculousness. She would tell her jokes, bounce around the room and more than likely swing from various pieces of equipment that she definitely shouldn't be swinging from.

Jaune… Her heart ached once more. Jaune would be there. That was it. He would be there, and he would smile that dazzlingly disarming smile, and everything would be fine. Everything would be fine, because he was there. With her. Together.

But he wasn't. None of them were. Pyrrha was alone. Well, not entirely. "Damn parasites." Her father cursed as he got into the car in the seat next to her. Theta made sure his daughter's seatbelt was in before putting his own on.

"Your mother is dealing with them now." Theta said with a smile. It managed to get Pyrrha to smile as well. She almost felt bad for them. Almost. The passenger side door opened and her mother entered, the distinct smell of burning plastic coming from outside.

"Well. That will teach them." She said with a huff, putting on her own seatbelt and nodding to their driver. The car took off, and Pyrrha got a brief glimpse of the paparazzi holding their cameras at arms length in anger, as the metal within smouldered and destroyed their components.

There was a reason her mother was who trained her at the start, Pelé being the one who originally brought the name 'Nikos' fame. Her father, who loved to recount the tale to anyone who would ask, and anyone who didn't, said that he fell in love with her mother the minute she kicked his ass.

Pyrrha often wished she could have a relationship like that. With someone who loved her for who she was and what she could do, instead of what she was known for. She nearly had that with Jaune. She swallowed once as her lips tingled, remembering their kiss.

"Probably my last kiss with him." She thought, eyes beginning to water. How could he want to have anything to do with her after she pushed him into a locker and sent him away. She had ruined her only chance at a relationship by literally pushing him away.

Just like she ruined her friendships. Push people away because they want to be friends with you, and you won't be disappointed when you find out it was only because you were famous. She was guilty of it in Beacon, trying to gently let down Weiss so as to not fall into the trap of believing they could actually be friends.

She wondered if she should have given her a chance, after seeing how well she adapted to her own team. Maybe Weiss was in the same boat as her, worried people would only try to befriend her or be on her team because of her name.

Maybe she was searching for common ground. Pyrrha let out a sigh as the thoughts consumed her. 'Maybes', 'what ifs' and 'buts', they filled her mind ever since she returned home. Maybe she could have been friends with Weiss.

But then she wouldn't have been friends with herTeam. And what if she had been strong enough to tell Jaune how she felt before everything went wrong. What if she had been strong enough to defeat Cinder. To save herself. So that Crue didn't have to.

Pyrrha stared at the passing scenery, as her mind flashed back to the night in question. She remembered the pain that came from the transfer, the failed transfer. The feeling of fear when Cinder had acquired the whole of the Maiden's powers.

And the despair when her arrow pierced her ankle. Even now, her foot throbbed in pain at the mere thought of it. She shuffled uncomfortably in the back seat as she remembered the feeling of fire washing over her.

Her father seemed to notice. "Is everything alright, Pumpkin?" He asked, gently reaching over and placing a hand on her shoulder. Pyrrha nodded numbly.

"I'm fine, Dad. Just, remembering." She said softly. Her father nodded in understanding, running a thumb over her shoulder reassuringly. Pyrrha leaned into the touch, her mind still miles away. The tower still haunted her nightmares, and so did the death of the one who saved her.

She had once told Crue that she was privileged, in never having known loss. Well, she knew the sensation well now. And she hated it. She lost her friends. Her weapon. She lost someone who saw her for more than her achievements. She hated the burning feeling in her stomach. The taste of bile that arose whenever she remembered the scream that came from Crue when his eye was pierced by an arrow.

She remembered his final words. "Fuck Destiny." "Pyrrha!"

Her mother's wide eyes turned around in the front seat to look at her daughter, as Pyrrha slammed a hand against her mouth. "I'm sorry!" She immediately apologised. "I didn't realise I was thinking out loud."

"It's fine, dear. I'm just, surprised." Pelé said. "I don't think I've ever heard such language from you."

"I think the worst word you've ever said before was 'darn'." Theta interjected, looking at his daughter with a surprised, if not somewhat amused expression. "I wonder if I should be proud."

"Theta! You should absolutely not be!" Her parents began to bicker as married couples so often did, the scene bringing a smile to Pyrrha's face. Their driver did not react to the scene at all, focusing on pulling into their house.

Pyrrha had never been so glad for her gated home, keeping the press well away from where she could finally be at peace. It was a fairly ostentatious house, nothing compared to the Schnee Manor, of course, but her family was far from starved for Lien.

Her mother was the most well known fighter in Mistral, before her at least. That meant they always had enough money, though a lot of it was spent on the best equipment and trainers for her. According to her mother, her fame came slowly, which is why it was such a shock when Pyrrha's name suddenly became all anyone in Mistral could talk about.

Her mother had told her, once they were back in Argus, that she was sorry for the pedestal she unintentionally put her on. Pelé already had friends she could trust before her fame, and handled it better than her daughter.

Which was also why she was so accepting of her choosing Beacon instead of Haven. The car came to a stop, directly outside the entrance to the house. "Thank you, Balius. Take the rest of the weekend off, I doubt we'll be leaving the home." Pelé thanked the driver, who gave a small nod as he tugged on his cap, where a pair of horse ears poked through.

The Nikos family exited the car, Pyrrha refusing any aid in getting up the few steps and into their house. Her father held the door open to her as she made it to the entrance and entered her home. A large circular foyer welcomed her, with a staircase that ran around the side and led to the upper floor.

"I think I'll just go to my room, if that's ok." Pyrrha said, making her way to the foot of the stairs.

"Of course it is, dear." Her mother said with a gentle smile. "But, please use the chair." Pyrrha came to a stop, looking at the stair lift that had been installed almost the day she got home. She hated the idea of using it, and tried to avoid it every chance she could so that she could build back up the strength in her legs.

But, her mother asked. "Yes, Mom." Pyrrha nodded, getting into the plush seat and pressing a few buttons so that she could travel up the stairs without straining her injury. Her parents remained on the ground floor, watching her rise, before she reached the top and quickly made her way through a hallway and to her bedroom.

It hadn't changed in the few hours she had been away for her rehabilitation, so she was unsurprised to see her red sheets still tousled in a ball at the corner of her bed. She had always taken care to make sure her bed was neat and tidy during and before Beacon, but lately she couldn't bring herself to bother.

And in the corner, gathering dust, was Akoúo̱, and her circlet. She hadn't touched either since coming back home. Her shield had betrayed her when she needed it most, and her circlet felt too heavy upon her head.

She hadn't found the remnants of Miló when she was brought from the tower, her weapon broken in two thanks to Cinder Fall the bitch. Pyrrha blinked in surprise, the anger surprising her, but feeling familiar at the same time.

The moment she was in the confines of her room, she let her crutches fall as she used her Semblance to bring a roller chair over to her. She fell down on it with a sigh of relief. She couldn't let her parents see this weakness, or they might not even let her out for her sessions.

Pyrrha just felt tired, as she used her Semblance to manoeuvre her chair over to a desk. Atop it sat a few notebooks, as well as some pens and stray scraps of paper. She had taken to writing out her thoughts of what she would say to her friends once she finally saw them again.

Her emerald eyes fell to the ground sadly. If she saw them again. If they wanted anything to do with her, after she tried to sacrifice herself without telling any of them. Pyrrha swallowed a lump in her throat, and pressed a pen to paper and began to write.

"I'm sorry…"

…

A training droid fell to the soft matted floor in pieces, as Weiss Schnee swung her rapier several times in succession, cutting down another as her breath came out in harsh pants. Three more droids rushed her, the Heiress dodging back and stabbing one through the head before ducking under the swing of another.

She went to rip Myrtenaster free, but one of the other droids had grabbed her hand and prevented her from retrieving her weapon. That was fine with Weiss, as it wasn't the only one she had. A blue blade swung upward, severing the droid's arm as Setanta whistled through the air.

The weapon was a blur as it separated the head of the droid her rapier was currently impaled in and used it as an impromptu bludgeoning weapon against another droid. Weiss had never wielded two weapons at once before, but her sister had given her a lot of advice and training.

Setanta's bladed form slammed against the dull blade of another droid, while Myrtenaster slipped under the blocked blade and through its neck. She removed the blades and turned to strike at another, as the red blade of Adam Taurus swung down on her.

"NO!" Weiss let out a scream, stumbling backward and shielding herself with both blades. The blow never came, and Weiss lowered her swords to see the droid that had been about to attack her still as a statue.

Her eyes flickered to its blade. The same dull steel as the rest of them, though it was shaped the same as the one that tried to kill her at Beacon. "That's enough." Weiss looked up to see Winter stepping away from the command console and approaching her younger sister.

Pale blue eyes frowned. "I can still fight." Weiss said, gripping her weapons tightly.

"You cannot." Winter looked behind Weiss, where the Aura monitor showed her Aura in the low yellow. "I understand your need to train, but if you burn yourself out, you will be unable to continue."

Weiss took a deep breath through her nose, before her weapons lowered. "Every time I close my eyes, I see his face. I see our company's atrocities bearing down on me with the intent to kill me." She whispered, hands shaking as she stared at the ground.

Winter held back on the comment of 'our' company, as she had long since given up on the idea of fixing the SDC. But, that wasn't what Weiss needed to hear right now. "Post Traumatic Stress can take many forms, and believe me when I say I have seen people handling it much worse than you, sister."

Weiss raised her head ever so slightly at the praise, as Winter reached out to take her weapons. "Your performance has been getting increasingly better, especially with a weapon such as this." She held Setanta aloft in her hand, before giving it a few swings.

It sang through the air as Winter held Myrtenaster behind her back. "It's surprising to find a blade that works this well, especially given its lack of a guard." She recognised the weapon, of course she did, considering it was used against her.

"Crue managed to use it just fine." Her sister said defensively. Winter held back on rolling her eyes. As much as she disliked the Faunus, and she was proud to say it was not because of his race, her sister loved him, and he was a good fighter.

"I meant no ill, Weiss." Winter stated. "Simply that such a weapon will take time to get used to. Especially given it's one that you are unused to. As well as having two forms." Her thumb pressed the small button on the side of the grip, as the blade suddenly popped out into a curved edge.

"I myself have never seen anything like this, so I am afraid I will be of no aid in training with it." She held the weapons back out to Weiss, who took them both gratefully. Winter noticed how she treated Setanta with more care than her own weapon, though she justified it due to the fact she lacked a holster for it.

Winter examined her sister's choice of attire a bit closer. "Have you been, talking with Whitley?" She asked carefully. Her sister wore a similar vest and shirt combo that she had often seen on their younger brother, albeit with a flowing blue and white skirt underneath that came to just below her knees.

"Yes." Weiss nodded. "I've been trying to reconnect with him. The loss of a brother is something I never want to experience again. And I refuse to allow any petty games of Father's to excel that." Her face was set into one of determination, her eyes like chips of ice.

Winter was proud of her sister, though she kept the thoughts to herself. She had already praised her for her improvement with training, to give more would spoil her. Plus, she had some unfortunate news to share with her.

"You will have to continue your training by yourself soon, Weiss." Winter stated, causing her sister to look up with wide eyes. "I am to be dispatched to Mistral on orders of General Ironwood. I am afraid I cannot tell you more."

"You're, leaving?" Weiss asked, sounding hurt. "But, you've been on leave for barely a week."

"I know. But, the General needs people he can trust for this mission. And I consider myself honoured to be among those few." Winter explained, though her words did nothing to help dull the blow to her younger sister.

"I see." She said quietly, her head low to the ground. Weiss didn't. Winter knew, but there was nothing to be done about it. The General needed her, and so she would follow her orders.

"I'll, see if I can pick you up something from Mistral." Winter suggested, almost surprising herself with the words. Weiss' head perked up almost immediately, her pale blue eyes practically sparkling. "A trinket, of sorts. I shall be all over Mistral, so I'm certain I can find something."

"That, that sounds wonderful. Thank you, Winter." Weiss smiled genuinely up at her sister, who felt her heart warm from the sincerity.

Winter nodded with a small smile. "You are welcome, Weiss. Now, I need to be off." She turned to leave, before stopping. "May I, escort you to the Bullhead?" She asked, looking to her younger sister.

Weiss looked like she would like nothing more. They left the training facility of Atlas Academy. Weiss had not accepted General Ironwood's offer to join the curriculum, as from what she had heard steady progress was being made in reclaiming Beacon from the Grimm.

But, she was still allowed to use the training facilities. Ironwood found her refusal to sit idly by commendable and gave her full access to the Academy's halls. At least, until classes started back up. Weiss was glad for it, because she refused to sit around doing nothing.

Doing nothing was what caused this in the first place. Freezing, when she should have defended herself. If she'd have been able to, Yang would have been ok. She wouldn't have lost a part of herself because of Weiss' weakness.

She had to get rid of that fear. The shock. She had to do something, to make up for when she did nothing.

The two Schnee's walked silently through the empty Academy, and Weiss was glad for the company, just to have someone with her.

They exited into the chilly landing bay, where Winter's personal aircraft was awaiting them. Along with another person… "General." Winter clicked her heels together, immediately bringing her hand to a salute.

The salute caught the General's attention, having been in the middle of talking with another person. "Another time, Lieutenant Colonel." He gave a small salute to a much smaller woman with tanned skin, who returned it and marched away.

"At ease, Winter." He nodded to his specialist, causing her posture to ever so slightly relax as she lowered the salute. He turned his attention to Weiss, and the Heiress immediately thought the General had seen better days.

He had a rather rough five o'clock shadow, and his eyes held more than a few bags. "Ms. Schnee. It is good to see you. How are you finding the Academy's facilities?" His face softened somewhat, a smile on his face that Weiss might compare to 'fatherly' if she had anything to compare it to.

"They are amazingly advanced." Weiss answered honestly. "The training arena especially." Her words brought a smirk to Ironwood's face.

"I thought you might say that. I can respect your drive to better yourself, especially in these uncertain times." His head turned, briefly lingering to where the Lieutenant Colonel had just been standing.

"Is everything alright, General?" Weiss asked. Winter's eyes widened and darted to her sister in shock that she would ask such a thing.

"It will be. Things are just going to become a bit more… crowded. Unfortunately." He took a moment to rub the bridge of his nose as his shoulders fell ever so slightly. "Atlas, or at the very least Galug will soon be host to a few more occupants."

"The prison?" Weiss blinked in confusion. She had heard of the prison before. A concrete monstrosity out in the tundra. Terrifying stories of people being left out in the freezing cold of Solitas to atone for their crimes.

"Yes." Ironwood nodded. "I've been able to get in brief contact with the council of Vale, and things are not as well as we would hope. With the death of Roman Torchwick, the criminals of Vale have been remarkably bold in trying to claim territory."

"Thankfully, there are still several able-bodied Huntsmen and Huntresses within the city, so they aren't providing too much of a problem."

"Then, what is the issue?" Weiss tilted her head, trying to figure out why criminals would be brought to Atlas.

"The issue is space, or lack thereof." Ironwood explained. "Vale's prisons are already full to the brim with criminals, and they are quickly running out of cells. So, to help make up for the travesty of our robots going rogue, Atlas has offered to take some of their more dangerous criminals off of their hands."

"Lieutenant Colonel Harper is overseeing the operation and will personally assure the criminals serve their sentences." He said, referring to the woman who he had been conversing with before. "But, it is because of my focus being on Atlas, that I need those I can trust on the ground."

His eyes returned to Winter, who stood a little taller at the praise. "I am sorry to steal your sister away from you, Weiss." He did sound genuinely apologetic, but Winter was needed.

"I understand." Weiss nodded, and she did a little bit better now. The General had his hands full with this and needed someone he could have faith in to carry out whatever mission they had been tasked with.

"Please take care of yourself." Weiss turned to her sister and requested, somewhat unnecessarily.

"Of course, I will." Winter stated. Weiss' eyes stared up at her like a lost puppy, and Winter felt a chink in her armour suddenly make itself known. "I won't be alone, Weiss. I will have a team of Specialists like myself."

The words did wonders to ease Weiss' anxiety. She had fully believed Winter would be by herself in Mistral's wilds. "I'm glad." Her head lowered in relief, as she let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding.

"Come, Weiss. Let's return to the manor. We might be able to have some tea before I leave." Winter suggested, giving a salute to the General, before making her way to her aircraft.

Ironwood nodded, before smiling warmly to Weiss. "Enjoy the time you have." He said, before giving a small salute of his own to the younger Schnee. The Heiress returned it, smiling herself before she ran to catch up with Winter.

The smile on Weiss' face was wide, as slowly, things seemed to be getting better.

…

"So what was the best and worst place you've had sex?" "Jesus fucking Christ." Crue sighed against the headrest and bringing a hand up to slide against his face, already regretting his decision to escort Vermillion to the other side of Vale.

"Hey! Huntsman relationships are always super interesting! I'm curious!" Vermillion said, keeping one eye on the road. If you could call it that. There was no asphalt or pavement, simply worn dirt roads with the occasional sign that said where they were going.

"I know a certain Cat Faunus who would argue that's a bad thing." Crue said, rubbing his temple. But he knew Vermillion wouldn't leave the question be. She had been proving surprisingly able to squeeze information about his relationship with Neo from him. Not that he made it easy, she would have had an easier time trying to draw blood from stone.

"The top of Beacon tower." He answered. He couldn't see Vermillion turn to glance at him incredulously due to his eye patch, but he could imagine her look of surprise. "And yes, that's an answer to both."

"How?!" She asked, returning her eyes to the road but repeatedly glancing to the Faunus in the mirror.

"My Semblance, lets me change my centre of gravity and walk up walls and shit." Crue explained with a gesture of his hand. "And hers, lets her make illusions around her. Changing her appearance, turning herself and someone close to her invisible. Stuff like that."

"Getting up was easy. But Holy shit did we misjudge how windy it would be up there." He chuckled somewhat, remembering the scenario. The two of them together atop the highest point in Vale sounded like an amazing idea when they discussed it.

Then, reality came through. The biting winds kept flinging Neo's hair into Crue's face, and there was nowhere to properly sit or lie down. "She gave it a ten out of ten for romanticness, but a four for comfort." Crue just hoped there was no student walking below the tower who suddenly wondered why some bird droppings landed on them when there was none in the sky.

"Oooh. How sweet. Two lovers, atop the highest peak, joined together in mind and body." Her eyes were distant, as if she was imagining writing out an entire chapter of a book based entirely on the scenario Crue had described.

"I still don't want you using me for inspiration. I've already been part of a story, and I hated it." Crue growled to himself, sitting back in the seat and crossing his arms as he glared out at the passing scenery.

"Oh really? Was it a good one?" Vermillion asked innocently, completely unaware of what Crue was referring to.

"Fuck no." He answered immediately. "The main character was a stupid Gary Stu and thought they had no free will of their own, with constant mental rants and a bunch of fourth wall breaks."

Vermillion felt like she had hit a sore spot, though she had no idea what might have caused it. So, she decided to change the topic back to one she was interested in. "An illusion Semblance, huh?" She said with a sly grin.

"That must have been fun in the bedroom." Crue rolled his eye at Vermillion's words.

"I guess?" He answered, figuring she meant how Neo would make it look like they were both fully dressed and casually hanging out if anyone happened to catch them. Which happened more than he would care to admit.

"You guess?" Vermillion replied with a disbelieving laugh. "A Semblance like that, you could be with anyone! Celebrities, Teachers, maybe even a female version of yourself." Her mind was running a mile a minute with ideas for her own writings.

"Oh." Crue blinked. "Yeah, I guess we could have done that, couldn't we? Huh." He stared out through the windshield, as if the idea had only just crossed his mind.

"You never did?" Vermillion asked, turning to look at Crue with raised blonde eyebrows.

"No." Crue shook his head with a soft frown, turning to look at the driver properly. "I mean, why would I want her to be anyone else?"

It was too much, as Vermillion brought both her hands into fists just below her chin and let out an ear-splitting squeal. "THAT'S SO ROMANTIC!" She cried, as Crue's one eye widened dramatically and he leaned across to grab the steering wheel, shouting fruitlessly to try and get Vermillion to regain control of the car.

The Faunus predicted a long, and not very enjoyable ride ahead of him.

Pyrrha has survived the Fall, which means a few things. One, Mistral is not as distraught as it would be if their most loved figure had been lost. Two, her parents are probably very glad for her to be alive and want to keep her out of danger.

Which is a difficult thing to do for someone as selfless as Pyrrha. Especially how she's in the know now with regards to the idea of magic and maidens. The only reason she isn't literally marching down to Haven to talk with the headmaster is because she physically can't.

Pyrrha's parents are based on the parents of Achilles, Peleus and Thetis. And with Pyrrha being a genderswapped version of Achilles it only made sense to do the same for them. Visual wise, however, I drew the idea of a very buff and lovable father from Iskander from Fate. Albeit with the main colour being blue rather than red.

Things are moving in the background in Atlas. Because the droids managed to 'fight' the virus, things are, not amazing, but not as bad as they could have been. Communication between the Kingdoms is cut off, but considering Winter was able to send reports to Ironwood while she was in Mistral, along with the fact Taiyang was able to get in touch with Ironwood, there's reason to assume he has the ability to do so with Vale.

A good bit longer than the previous chapter, surprisingly. I'll try to keep them about this length for the foreseeable future, but I'm only human. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, let me know if you did, and as always…

Until Next Time

-Friday