Eight chapters ago, I mentioned that I was planning to wrap up this story at the end of the Beacon arc.

We're at that point now, and the plan remains the same. The fact that it's taken over a year to get from there to here makes me think it's the right call.

Without further ado, then, let's get into it.

"—that concludes our questions." Glynda Goodwitch said. "Thank you for your cooperation."

The sheaf of handwritten notes on the other side of the desk shimmered purple. Slowly, they levitated into the air and drifted over into Glynda's hand. Such caution must have seemed absurd to an uninformed observer. After all, three of the greatest Huntsmen on Remnant were gathered in this windowless interrogation cell. There was Glynda herself, the new headmistress of Beacon; legend said the glint of her glasses alone could scare Grimm to death, to say nothing of her Semblance. There was James Ironwood, a colossus of steel and muscle, intimidating despite the hasty weld holding his torso's split halves together. There was Qrow Branwen, his expression sober for once and his famed scythe ready to deploy at a moment's notice. Yet it was the petite girl slumped in a chair across from them who was the most dangerous person here. There were no handcuffs on Neo's wrists in spite of the threat she posed, nor irons on her legs, nor even a lock on the door. None of those would even inconvenience her if she truly desired to escape. Yet this entire time she had barely moved except to write down her confession. Had barely even looked at her interrogators, instead staring at the battered walking stick in her lap.

"So what will you do now?" Ironwood had one more question, as it turned out. The table creaked ominously as he leaned his weight upon it. "You don't like us, Neopolitan, and to be frank I don't like you much either. Were you not the Fall Maiden, I'd happily see you shot for what you've done."

"James!" Glynda hissed.

Neo lifted her head to meet the general's gaze. The prospect of capital punishment would have inspired fear or defiance in most people, but not a flicker of emotion showed in her mismatched eyes. "However, you are, so I think we can help each other out." Ironwood continued. "Cinder Fall may be dead, but she was just the tip of the iceberg. There's a whole network of people like her out there. They stay in the shadows, using people like you and your friend to do the dirty work, then throwing them away. Unfortunately they've proved beyond our reach so far, but with your newfound powers, perhaps..."

He trailed off, leaving the implications to linger. The renewed gleam that entered Neo's eye made Glynda and Qrow exchange nervous glances. This was all highly unorthodox, to say the least. Maidens were normally hidden safely away, not used as frontline shock troops. "As such, I strongly suggest you come to Atlas." Ironwood finished.

Qrow groaned in exasperation. "Seriously, Jimmy?"

"What's the alternative?" Ironwood snapped at him, before turning back to Neo. "There's another like you living there, as it happens. Though she may be old, her knowledge of magic is second to none." Second to one, to be precise, but Neo didn't need to know that. "She could teach you much about using your powers to their full potential. So what say you?"

Glynda and Qrow could only look on in sullen acquiescence. They could ill afford to display disunity in front of a wild card like Neo. And besides, loath though they might be to admit it, Ironwood had a point. Beacon was in ruins, Haven's reliability was in question based on what they'd learned, and Shade was in Vacuo. If they wished to keep Neo under close watch, there was no other option. Plus if she did end up going rogue, the Winter Maiden should still have enough firepower to put down a cocky young upstart. Of course this was not how Ozpin usually handled Maidens, but the ones he normally dealt with were idealistic young Huntresses—not hardened killers who needed to be placated by the promise of revenge.

Neo sighed heavily, tightening her grip on Roman Torchwick's cane, then gave them a single nod.

The sun came up on Thursday morning.

This, on its own, should not have been a revolutionary event. The sun had risen on Remnant every single day of the week for gods knew how many years. And yet as the first rays peeked over the Emerald Forest, it couldn't help but feel like a minor miracle. All across Vale, civilians peered cautiously out of barricaded windows, and weary Huntsmen in the streets paused to catch their breath. There was joy at witnessing a dawn that they all had to some degree feared they would not live to see, and there was sorrow mixed in too, for those who the sun had shone upon yesterday but never would again. Fewer lives had been lost than might have been, but still, too many. Every single person had been the protagonist in their own story of survival; there were a thousand tales of heroism and heartbreak to be told, of life and death separated by the mere flap of a butterfly's wings.

"—really sorry again." Pyrrha said, as case in point.

"It is quite all right." Penny accepted her apology with a gentle smile. In a different world neither girl would be alive right now, but here they were, chatting amicably in the morning light. Well, not literally. No light reached the basement of the Vale Council building, where the Atlas Military had set up their temporary HQ. "In hindsight, it is obvious that there were machinations afoot. And besides, I have suffered no permanent damage. I will merely require some, ah..." She rubbed her neck, which was still copiously wrapped in duct tape. "...minor repairs."

"Minor." Sun snorted from his spot next to her. It wasn't entirely clear if he had the security clearance to be here, but the General was far too busy to personally evict him, Penny had insisted he could stay, and the dog faunus soldier on duty wasn't keen on arguing with her, for some reason. "That's, uh, good to hear." Pyrrha said tentatively. "I, um, I assume you're heading back to Atlas now?"

Penny tried to nod, realized she physically couldn't, and settled for a thumbs up instead. "Naturally. Dad would trust no one else with my care. He'll want to review my live combat data as well, to identify potential optimizations." Here she shot Sun a sidelong glance. "And I'm sure he'll be curious to meet my—my first friend."

"Are they even going to let him on the ship?" Pyrrha wondered.

Sun shrugged. "No idea, but that's not stopping me."

"Fair enough." Pyrrha allowed. "I ought to go home myself. I'm sure my mother's worried sick. Then...I don't know." she sighed. "To be honest—after last night, I feel a little lacking in purpose."

"I hope you find it again." said Penny. "I've been looking forward to our rematch, you see."

Pyrrha blinked. "Rematch? You still want to—even after—"

"But of course!" Penny leaned forward, sticking her face uncomfortably close. "No one has ever made me feel defeat before! What a fascinating emotion! It is like, like—" she struggled for words. "—well, I have never needed to eat in my life, but I know what hunger is now. Like a burning that no amount of coolant will quench!" She gripped Pyrrha's hand in her own. "So, yes. If there is no next time I will be gravely disappointed."

Pyrrha at once smiled in relief and winced at having her hand crushed. "I'm glad then. It was honestly really fun for me too! Until, you know." She bit her lip guiltily. "Still, the fact is I did promise Sun I'd be careful with you, and I broke my promise."

Sun flicked his tail dismissively. "Hey, if Penny forgives you, I'm def not gonna hold a grudge."

"Even so, I pride myself on being a woman of my word." Pyrrha stood, turned her back, and bent over. "For honor's sake, I must demand that you kick my ass."

"You're back!" Nora called out, looking over her shoulder as Pyrrha rejoined them. "How'd it go?"

They were holed up in a conference room on the Council building's upper floors. It had been haphazardly converted to a dorm, cots strewn on the floor amid the office furniture. Most of them had woken early from uneasy sleep, and arranged themselves in a rough circle to swap war stories. The sight was almost normal, like teenagers gossiping at a slumber party, but the marks of battle were impossible to miss. Ruby still lay unconscious on her cot. Nora's arm bore a fresh lightning-patterned scar. The strip of gauze around Sable's head failed to completely hide the burned skin underneath. And of course, one of their number was missing entirely. Blake was alive, that they knew. Yang had delivered her safely to the medics, but that had been hours ago and no one knew where to look for her now. Or, for that matter, whether they should look at all. Her team leader, for one, had been...less then happy to learn the truth. Even now, whether out of pity of fear, the others largely avoided speaking the forbidden name.

"As well as could be expected." Pyrrha rubbed her rear end gingerly. Even when holding back, it turned out Penny had quite the leg on her. "I got us some food while I was out. No pancakes, but they had these." She reached into the paper bag she carried and started tossing plastic-wrapped sandwiches at people. Sable reached out for one. He'd misjudged the depth, though, and it bounced off his fingertips, rolling out of reach. He stood with a sigh, brushing off Weiss's helping hand. "I've got it. I lost an eye, not my legs—ow!" Mid-sentence, he banged his shins on a low-lying coffee table. He would have fallen on his face if not for Weiss catching him by the elbow. She pulled him back onto the couch and offered him her own sandwich. Sable accepted with great reluctance, all the while glaring at everyone else as if daring them to comment.

No one did. No one except Yang, that was. "Can you even eat that?" she said.

Sable turned his good eye towards her. "What the hell are you—"

"Because I thought zombies only ate brains." Yang finished cheekily.

It took a second for the sheer audacity of what she'd said to sink in. Pyrrha gasped out loud. Jaune spat out a mouthful of bread and mystery meat. Weiss shot the blonde girl a look that would have induced hypothermia in lesser beings. "I'm glad you see the humor in this." she hissed, her voice practically dripping with icicles. It would have been more intimidating were she not dressed in a comically oversized "I (heart emoji) Vale" sweatshirt, her regular outfit having proven too bloodstained to salvage. Sable's had too, and his matching sweatshirt instead looked comically small. Yang grinned expectantly at him, but her cheer faded under his continued stony stare. "Uh, guess I fucked up." Shamefaced, she crossed the room to make her apologies. "I'm sorry, man. Didn't mean to hurt you, I swear. I just—I thought it might be okay to be funny again."

"Why start now?" Sable said drily. The corner of his mouth twitched. "And I think I'll stick with the sandwich. More nutritional value than your brain, for sure."

Yang rolled her eyes. "Tch. Had me worried there." She gave him a friendly cuff on the shoulder before heading back to Ruby's bedside. The doctors had assured them there was nothing wrong with her beyond severe exhaustion, but that hadn't stopped Yang from standing vigil. Now and then she would fiddle with Ruby's blankets or fluff her pillows in very big sister fashion.

Eyes shining, Nora sat up straight in the armchair she and Ren shared. "Ooh! Are we allowed to talk about this now?"

Ren shook his head. "Nora—"

"I mean, he literally died and came back to life! Does anyone else think that's, like, kind of crazy?" Nora chattered on, heedless. "Like, I thought it was cool how I got this scar but—"

"It'd be cooler not to die in the first place!" Sable snapped. "Besides, I didn't do anything! If anyone's going to brag, it should be Jaune!"

Jaune spat out another bite of his sandwich. At this rate, more of it was going to end up on the carpet than in his stomach. "M-me? But it was a total accident and besides I still messed up with your—ow!"

He was cut off when Sable reached out and smacked him upside the head. "I told you, quit apologizing for that shit."

"Yeah, who are you, Pyrrha?" Yang jeered good-naturedly.

"Indeed." Pyrrha added, tactfully ignoring that last comment. "You do realize Aura's literally life and death for us, right? Yet here you are just making more of it." She let out an incredulous chuckle. "And I thought my Semblance was strong." Poor Jaune could only blush and stammer incoherently in reply. A year as Sable's partner had left him quite unused to praise of such magnitude.

"I was wondering about that, actually." Ren allowed himself to join in on the convo, somewhat reluctantly. "Not to question your Semblance, but no amount of Aura should be able to revive the dead..."

"To be fair, it felt like I was only mostly dead." Sable said thoughtfully. He gave Weiss a meaningful look that suggested they would speak more on this later. "Sometimes you hear about people getting revived after a heart attack, things of that nature. So your soul and Aura, they must persist for at least a few minutes after—you know." he finished, fingers brushing over an invisible stomach wound.

"Plus it was you who unlocked my Aura in the first place, maybe that helped?" Jaune added.

Weiss scooted a bit closer to her brother. "Whatever it was, let's not test it again, shall we?"

"Probably for the best." Sable agreed. The conversation died out after that, no pun intended. The (perhaps former) Beacon students were left to finish breakfast without further spit-take inducing incidents. The sandwiches were Atlas military surplus, hard as stone and palatable as glue between two pieces of cardboard, but no one complained. After the madness of the past few days, it was enough to get a moment of peace and quiet. Plus fighting for your life worked up quite the appetite.

Of course, their lives being what they were, more drama was always around the corner. Scarcely ten minutes later someone knocked on the door. They then proceeded to open it right afterwards, begging the question of why they'd bothered to knock in the first place. Qrow stumbled in, looking somehow even more haggard than usual, with a mug of steaming dark liquid in his hand. "Qrow!" Yang exclaimed. "Wait, is that coffee?"

"Needed something stronger than usual." Qrow said morosely. He took a sip from the mug, then pulled a face. "Ugh. No idea what Oz saw in this stuff."

"Would you quit blocking the door?!" someone complained from the hallway. Winter shoved her way through without waiting for a reply either. Judging by her sweat-stained uniform and the dark circles under her eyes, she hadn't had a restful night. In fact, she looked almost as bad as Qrow, which was quite the achievement. Upon catching sight of her brother's wounds she gasped—a dismayed gasp, but not a shocked one. Someone had had the courtesy to warn her, it seemed. "Oh gods." she muttered as she approached. "Does—does it hurt?"

Sable shook his head. "No, it's pretty much healed. As much as it can anyways."

"That's...good to hear." Winter said, rather uncertainly. "Apologies for my tardiness. Things have been hectic, and news travels slowly with the CCT down."

"It's fine, Winter." Weiss reassured her. "We're just glad to see you. How are things out there?"

"Well, the city's still standing." Winter informed them. "Professor Goodwitch—Headmistress Goodwitch, I should say now—managed to seal the breach, and that stopped the Grimm flooding in. A lot made it through before that, though." She sighed, running a hand through disheveled white hair. "We've been mopping them up all night, and there's still at least a day's worth left. I've actually got to rotate back in soon—"

"School's clear though." Qrow chipped in. "The staff retook the grounds a bit after midnight. Wasn't much of a fight. White Fang mostly pulled out after torching everything they could, and the ones that didn't, well, Port happened to them."

Everyone who'd seen the Grimm Studies teacher in action shuddered at this. "So we won?" Jaune said hopefully.

"Won?" Winter and Qrow scoffed in unison. The sheer force of their disapproval made him physically flinch. "Look at this!" Qrow added. He flung open the curtains on one side of the room. Outside, the ruins of Beacon were exposed in the dawn's early light. Where once a shining castle had stood upon the cliffs, now was a graveyard of burnt-out buildings. The skyline looked naked without the CCT tower's silhouette. It was plain to see they wouldn't be going to class tomorrow, or anytime soon. Crossing the room, Qrow opened more curtains to reveal Vale's harbor, where Amity Colosseum was still half-sunken like a dead whale. It was hard to believe a bustling festival had once taken place there. Yet it was only yesterday that they had been playing at war, amid lights and cameras and cheering crowds. "And that! Does that look like we won?"

"...no." Jaune admitted.

"Yeah, everyone lost." Qrow said sombrely. "We haven't even gotten around to counting casualties, but there's got to be hundreds. Maybe thousands. Property damage is off the charts. And oh, communication between all the kingdoms is cut off—Atlas engineering, man."

"Hey!"

"Seriously, one tower goes down and we're back to Dark Ages. What bozo thought that was a good idea?"

"It's a complex technical problem!" Winter sputtered. "Let's see you build it next time, how about—"

"Buuut we're getting off topic." Qrow cut her off with a lofty wave of his hand. Continuing that line of discussion could have posed difficulties for him. He was a Huntsman, after all, not a network engineer. "Robyn's trying to get evac flights going for the tourists, so the rest of the world knows we're not dead and can stop crapping their pants. I managed to wrangle us a Bullhead back to Patch—any of you don't have a place to stay, open invite to crash at Tai's."

"Who's Robyn?" Yang wondered to no reply.

"Appreciate it." Ren said. "Nora and I might take up that offer."

"Same—" Sable began.

Winter coughed awkwardly. "Um, about that—I meant to warn you two, Father is coming."

"Already?!" Weiss exclaimed.

"Gods, couldn't you have started with that?" Sable complained.

"I was planning to, but someone distracted me." Here Winter shot Qrow a decidedly dirty look. "We picked up his personal ship on radar; he'll be here any minute. I'm sorry."

"Can't you just tell him I'm dead?" Sable suggested. That remark earned him a few raised eyebrows before he slumped back on the couch, pouting. "I know, I know. I'm just bitching." he grumbled.

"I—I'm sure it will work out." Winter told them, although she sounded not entirely convinced "Atlas might be better for your recovery, anyways. Bionic eye tech has advanced a lot thanks to the Penny Project."

Sable nodded. He had no intention of living the rest of his life half-blind, of course. Eyesight was generally pretty important for Huntsmen (with certain exceptions). Still, some of the older prostheses would have looked horribly unfashionable, as if wearing a thick monocle. Call him vain, but he would be glad to avoid such a fate. "Guess I have that to look forward to." he muttered. Yang let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like a repressed giggle. "Shut it, that wasn't a pun."

"And Atlas Academy will always be open to you. To all of you, in fact." Winter continued, raising her voice to address the room. "Any friends of my siblings—"

Qrow cut her off again. "Skip the recruitment speech, Ice Queen. We don't have much time and there's a lot to cover, so, um." he cleared his throat. "This is sort of awkward, but could you like, leave?"

"Excuse me?"

"Classified info, need-to-know and all that." Qrow flapped his arms vaguely about. "Look, you're a soldier, you should be used to this. If you want to complain take it up with Jimmy."

Winter sighed deeply. "Very well." She hugged the twins briefly, one with each arm. "Take care, all right? I'll visit when I get the chance." Then she was gone. Weiss and Sable could only wave at the closing door, a bit taken aback by the suddenness of it all.

Qrow sighed even more deeply. "Welp. Time for the Goliath in the room." He glanced at his coffee mug in distaste, then poured the contents of his hip flask into it and drank before proceeding. "I'm going to assume you told each other everything?"

"We did." Jaune confirmed. "Um, should we not have? I guess it is sort of a big secret."

"Oh, definitely, but fuck it." Qrow said. "Oz probably figured this would happen. So to sum it up: magic real, four Maidens, blah blah blah. The weird shit that's been going on lately all circles back to that. We're still trying to put the details together; Neo's cooperating, but seems they didn't trust her all that much. Rightly so, as it turns out." he snorted. "That girl's going to be a headache, I can tell already. Having a violent psychopath as the Fall Maiden isn't great, but the way things work we're stuck with her until she dies. And hey, at least she's our violent psychopath. Sort of. It's more like...we've got a common set of enemies, and hopefully we can keep her pointed their way."

Ren frowned. "What enemies?"

Qrow continued as if he hadn't heard that. "Otherwise, not much to go off. Cinder's too busy burning in hell to talk to us, ditto for Torchwick, and it'll take days to dig the other two out of the basement assuming they didn't get squished down there. We do know they entered the tournament as Haven students, though, but I'm not sure they ever attended a class there. Gonna have some, uh, questions for Lionheart next time I see him."

"To be fair, I think Sun only went to, like, one class all year, and no one cared." Jaune pointed out. "Maybe that's just how Haven rolls."

"Their academic standards do seem rather lacking." Weiss sniffed.

Qrow shrugged. "Whatever the case, they certainly got away with a lot they shouldn't have. We think the whole plan was just to cause as much chaos as possible, get Oz to risk a transfer on the fly. And as you know, Cinder got what she wanted in the end—for, like, ten minutes." He let out a derisive scoff. "I don't think she expected Ruby to do that. And yes, I realize none of you expected it either." he added. "Those silver eyes of hers, they come with, let's say, unique abilities."

"Ooh, is it more magic? Is my team leader a magical girl?" Nora blurted out.

"Uhh..." Qrow looked sheepish all of a sudden. "So I'm not sure if it's magic or not?"

"She's your niece!"

"I mean, yes, but Oz was the magic expert, not me!" Qrow said defensively. "It's a special power she has that's not her Semblance, so maybe it is magic? Just semantics." Another shrug. "Her mom could do it too, but after Summer, uh, went away there was no one to teach Ruby so she never unlocked it. Until now."

Yang was staring at her uncle as if she'd never seen him properly before. "Wait. Then how long have you been involved in—in all this magic stuff?"

"Oz told us right before we graduated—"

"That was twenty years ago!" Despite earlier insinuations as to her intelligence, Yang sorted out the mental math quickly enough. "Before Ruby and I were—and you never told us—"

"I didn't and I won't apologize for it." Qrow very bluntly cut in. "He was watching us, testing us for years before he decided he could trust us. And I think he had the same plan for you, but events forced his hand early. You all saw last night, you saw what can happen when the wrong person learns about this."

"So how did Cinder learn about it?" Sable asked pointedly.

"That's a hell of a question." Qrow paused to drain the vile caffeine/alcohol mixture in his mug before not answering. "Probably one for another day—"

If his intent had been to wrap up discussion here, he failed miserably. Hinting at yet further world-shattering secrets in front of a bunch of nosy teenagers proved about as productive as slathering his member in tree sap and sticking it in a nest of Rapier Wasps. He was drowned out by an awful lot of people trying to talk over each other at once. "Hold on, there's more?" Yang yelped.

"—we can't exactly wait." Weiss complained.

"Tell us now!" Nora demanded. "Now now now—!"

"...fuck me." Qrow groaned. Perhaps Ozpin would have handled it better, could have put the matter to bed with some half-truths and vague promises. Qrow was not Ozpin, though. Unlike his once and future boss, he lacked centuries of experience managing the flow of information. He went for another drink from his mug, but alas, he'd emptied it already. "Look, this is—Nora, shut up, I can barely hear myself—thanks. This is a lot to process already. If you want to back out and live normal lives—"

"I think that ship's sailed, man." Yang called out.

"Normal for Huntsmen." Qrow amended. "Go down too far down the rabbit hole and—well, I know people who wish they could forget."

Sable folded his arms, clearly unmollified. "If you don't want to tell me just say so!"

"It's cute you think it's about you—"

"Then what's the problem?" Sable demanded. "You talk about trust, but we've been loyal, haven't we? Fought the good fight, haven't we?"

"We didn't confront a dragon and a Maiden just for fun." Weiss said coolly.

"Plus Mountain Glenn." Jaune added with a little shiver. "I still have nightmares about those skeletons."

"I got stabbed!" Nora offered, a bit too cheerfully.

"An evil witch burned my eye out!" Sable finished, gesturing to his missing body part. "Hell, I literally died for you bastards, what more do you want?!"

"Okay, I hear you." Qrow held out his hands placatingly. "Now calm the fuck down and—"

"Don't act so high and mighty!" Sable tried leaping to his feet in dramatic fashion, only to trip on the same coffee table again. Weiss caught him by the arm, but this time he resisted her efforts to haul him back, pointing an accusing finger. "Trust's a two-way street! We trusted you to not let Beacon get destroyed and look how that turned out!"

Qrow's eyes flashed dangerously. "Oh, you're gonna go there?"

Yang practically launched herself between the quarrelsome pair. The odds of her uncle trying to beat up a one-eyed man didn't seem particularly high, but higher than zero. "Hey, both of you cool it—"

"Because you're gods-damned right!" Qrow roared. Everyone present flinched when the normally laid-back Huntsman raised his voice. "We fucked it up, and now I've got to live with that! You think I'm happy about it? Beacon—it was the first real home I had, you know?" He pushed past Yang's outstretched arm to point right back in Sable's face. "Newsflash, kid, you're not the only one with family issues! I came here with my sister all those years ago, same as you. She was—you remind me a lot of her, sometimes. Rude. Mean. Way too edgy for her own good. But still, we loved her and thought she loved us too. Until the day she showed her true colors and we wondered why we'd ever trusted her."

It hardly took a genius to figure out who he was referring to; he had only one sister any of them knew of, after all. Nor was it difficult to understand that the comparison was not a flattering one. Sable reddened in anger, though strangely it was Weiss who seemed to take more offense. She ceased her efforts to pull her brother away, instead stepping up right to his side. "That's not fair—!" she protested.

"But," Qrow said smoothly. "she wouldn't have done what you did last night." The twins blinked. A compliment, however oblique, was not the conclusion they'd expected from whole tirade. Qrow took advantage of their discombobulation to shove them firmly back onto the couch. "Perhaps you're not as alike as I thought."

"So then—" Sable began hopefully.

That hope was crushed in brutally efficient fashion. "No. I'm not doing this to you right now. Go home and recover first, for gods' sake. Then if you've still got the itch in a couple months come find me, or Jimmy, or Glynda, whoever's close. I swear you'll get answers then. And that's final." Qrow added as more than one student seemed ready to continue arguing. "Yell at me all you want. It won't matter."

Silence ensued. It wasn't a contented silence, more an exhausted one that simmered with lingering resentment, but Qrow would more than take it. "Anyways. Good talk." he declared, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. "Now let's go catch that Bullhead, shall we?"

The time had come to say goodbye.

The Bullhead to Patch was parked in the street, engines running. Qrow had gone in first with the still-sleeping Ruby, while the others lingered at the foot of the ramp, delaying the moment of parting as long as they could. The occasion could have been described as bittersweet, but without the ability the peer into alternate universes, the bitter rather outweighed the sweet. It was no easy thing to say goodbye, not when they'd expected to have so much more time together, and didn't know when or if they'd would meet again.

"—take care." Nora was saying as she bade Pyrrha farewell. "Maybe we'll come for a visit. Road trip across Mistral sounds fun, eh? How about it, Renny?"

"How about we just take an airship?" Ren mumbled.

"Probably for the best." Pyrrha chuckled. "I think it'd take over a year to walk to my house."

"—sure you're not coming?" Yang asked at the same time. She looked hopefully to the twins. "Come on, I've heard what your dad's like. You'd rather hang with us than him, right?"

"Infinitely so." Weiss said in resignation. "But I can't. It's—well, company politics, I'll leave it at that." She nudged Sable with her elbow. "Um, you could go with them, though. I'm sure he doesn't care if you come back home. Probably the opposite."

Sable shook his head grimly. "We stick together."

Yang sighed. "Welp, worth a try." She stepped forward to envelop him a hug. "I, uh...I'll miss you, dude."

"And I you." Sable whispered. If Yang thought his voice sounded suspiciously choked, she tactully avoided comment. And if she felt something warm and wet drip into her hair from his good eye, she resisted the urge to smack him. That would have been seriously bad form. "Hey. This isn't the end." she told him. "Don't know how, or when, but we'll meet again. We're still a team. And you're still our leader. Because you know what they say..."

Here she paused with a knowing wink, and Sable tensed. "Don't you dare—"

"There is no eye in team!" she finished gleefully.

"That's so bad!" Sable groaned. Yang patted him on the head (careful not to mess up his hair, of course) before moving on to the others. "Smell ya later, Weiss-cream." Weiss eye-rolled at the nickname, but made no objection to the hug. "And—wait, Jaune, where are you going?"

"Uh..." Jaune scratched his head nervously. "I—I think I'll head to Atlas too, actually."

"Sorry, what?" Weiss exclaimed in surprise.

"I'm serious." Jaune insisted. "It really sounds like you could use a friend up there. Plus I've never been before and, uh...it's that, or go back to living with my parents. And six sisters." He shuddered theatrically.

Weiss raised an eyebrow. "Is everything all right with your family?"

"I mean, there's nothing wrong with them." Jaune reassured her. "Just, it's such a small town and the house is so crowded and—well, Saphron and I moved out for a reason."

Hastily wiping his eye, Sable fixed his partner with a stern gaze. "I would like to say," he began. "that you're an idiot who has no idea what he's getting into, and if you did you'd run away screaming."

"Oh..."

"But it was the same at initiation, and I'd say that worked out pretty well." Sable clapped him on the back, now smiling. "Welcome to Atlas, partner."

"Just in time for winter." Weiss observed. "I hope you like the cold."

Jaune gulped. "I'm sure I'll survive."

"Good luck then." Yang hugged him too, finishing with a forceful thump to the chest. Once upon a time that would have knocked him straight over, but now he merely stumbled back a step. "Look after them for me won't you, Doctor Arc?"

"Doctor Arc?" Jaune sputtered.

"Hey, it beats 'Vomit Boy', doesn't it?"

"I guess—"

"Would you kids hurry up?!" Qrow called from inside the Bullhead. "We're on a schedule here! Ten—nine—"

"Shit. Anyways, take care and uh, don't die. Again. Bye!" With that final admonition, Yang ran up the ramp after Ren and Nora. The door closed. The Bullhead lifted off, rising vertically until it had cleared the level of the rooftops, then turned west, over the city and out to sea toward the sisters' island home. Pyrrha soon (very politely) left to find her own ride, but Sable and Weiss stayed put, watching in silence long after the ship had vanished from view. Understandably, they had much to reflect upon. Their Beacon days already felt like a dream, a wonderful dream that they were now waking up from. It was a bitter pill to swallow, working so hard to get here only to be forced back home so prematurely.

Jaune stayed too, but that was mostly because he had nowhere else to be.

"Hey, Sable." Weiss finally said. She reached out to take her brother's hand. "It'll be all right. You can always get a new sword, a new eye. The important thing is, you're still here..."

"We're still here." Sable nodded jerkily. "You're right. We can still make it—we have to—"

He trailed off when a figure stumbled out of an alley in front of them. This, on its own, wouldn't have been remarkable. The streets in the safe zone were largely deserted, owing to the early hour and the humongous battle that had taken place last night, but there was still the odd soldier or Huntsman on patrol. Seeing a random human being out and about certainly should not have caused all parties to freeze in shock. This was not some random human being, though. Or, indeed, a human being at all.

A dark-haired girl stared back at them in mute horror. Atop her head sat a bloodstained bandage and a single cat ear.

The gods were toying with her. That was the only explanation Blake could think of. Her time at Beacon had been cursed with awful luck from the start, and this was just adding insult to injury. Seriously, what were the odds? She had practically crawled out of the medical center as soon as she regained consciousness, the nurses too swamped with casualties to notice, then spent the night trying to rest and heal in an alleyway. It hadn't been easy to sleep in her hiding place, wedged between a dumpster and a brick wall. Still, she had remained undetected, before daring to venture out at the crack of dawn in search of transport out of town. Only—despite all her precautions to avoid this exact situation—to just happen to bump into some of the people (besides Adam) she least wanted to meet.

It was immediately obvious that Yang had told them everything. That stung a little, but she couldn't bring herself to begrudge her partner. Expecting Yang to lie to the entire group on her behalf was hardly reasonable. "Blake...hi...?" Jaune smiled and waved in a painfully forced manner. Weiss said nothing, but her cold, suspicious glare made it clear the heiress despised her. Neither of them were who she truly worried about, though. Many times over the year, Blake had wondered what she would do if Sable discovered her secret. Some days she thought it would be best to fall on her knees and beg for forgiveness. Others she fantasized about telling him how she really felt, of hurling the SDC's crimes back in his face in an outburst righteous rage. Yet funnily enough, now that the time had finally come she found herself unable to speak a word. She was transfixed by the sight of the bandage where his left eye had been. Under it she could make out the edges of a scar, dark red like a burn, a brand—

No. Blake recoiled, fresh pain flaring in her mangled ear. No, no, no! What had happened last night? Those fools, what had they done? Gods help her, history was repeating before her eyes, the vicious cycle between humans and faunus continuing as it had since civilization began. Hate bred hate, monsters bred monsters, and once again Blake had been too weak to stop the wheel from spinning. She had no choice except to flee, same as last time, but her legs felt heavy as lead. And running was pointless anyways, wasn't it? She hadn't been able to escape Adam in the end, and with the resources of the SDC behind him, escaping Sable was even more of a hopeless prospect. Blake was doomed—hell, faunuskind was doomed. Horrific images flooded her imagination. Her hometown in flames as Atlesian warships rained bombs from above. Masked goons indiscriminately cutting down White Fang and civilians alike, led by a demon of ice and snow. The dead rising again as pale summons, permanently enslaved to their Schnee master...

"So it's true..." Sable whispered. The unexpected softness of his voice jarred Blake from her increasingly panicked thoughts. His good eye was fixed upon her good ear, its white curiously bloodshot. Had he been crying? It was difficult to square that with her doom-laden imaginings.

"Um, yes." Blake managed to squeak, more mouse than cat. "Look—I'm s—"

"Don't say it." Sable spat with sudden vehemence. "Don't you dare fucking say it."

He turned his back on her and walked away at a brisk pace, down the street and out of her life. Blake sank slowly to the pavement. Her legs had gone from lead to jelly. She should have been relieved to get off the hook so lightly, but instead she felt strangely empty inside. The pain in her head grew steadily worse, and her field of vision seemed to spin like an amusement park ride. At this point, she was starting to think it was more than an emotional reaction. There were a bunch of little bones in your ear that helped with balance and such things which she'd probably royally messed up. Perhaps she should have rested for longer, or at least swiped some painkillers. She shut her eyes, and that seemed to help a bit. The wave of nausea and vertigo was ebbing away. In its place, a pleasant warmth pooled atop her head. Blake let herself relax as the comforting sensation washed over her and sank into her bones and scratched her behind the ear—wait a minute.

Her eyes snapped open. "Jaune? What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry!" Jaune yanked his hand away as if burned. Had he been here this whole time? It spoke volumes about her mental state that she hadn't registered his presence until now. "I know I should have asked first, but you looked like you were in pain and—well, I don't think I can grow your ear back but at least it doesn't hurt anymore, right?"

"Huh?" Blake said in confusion, before realizing he was in fact entirely correct. Gingerly, she slid a hand under her bandage only to find a ridge of hardened cartilage, as if her ear had been gone for many years. "But how—oh! Was that your Semblance?"

Jaune grinned at her. "Neat, isn't it?"

Despite everything, his childlike joy couldn't help but bring a weak smile to her face. "Congratulations." she said in all sincerity. "I'm happy for you."

"Yeah, me too." Jaune said. "It was really lucky I unlocked it when I did. I just wish I could have...eh." he trailed off, the grin slipping from his face. "Uh, Blake? What—what are you going to do now?"

Blake sighed. "Honestly, no idea. I was planning to going back home, for a start. To Menagerie." she clarified. It was oddly liberating to finally admit that aloud. "There's a lot of people I wronged, but my parents are top of the list. I...I just hope they're happy to see me."

"Er, I'm sure things will work out." Here, Jaune dithered for a long moment before crouching down to her level. "But, uh, whenever you're done with that—I think the team's transferring to Atlas for next year."

Blake blinked. "You're joking."

"Uh, no? Beacon is closed and there are only three other Academies so—"

"Not that." Blake interrupted. "There's no way I'm still on the team!"

Jaune frowned, seeming legitimately puzzled. "Why not? Sure, you did kind of lie about your backstory, but, uh, you weren't the only one." He gestured sheepishly at himself. "And besides you were still our fr—well, you were still on our side. You helped us fight the bad guys and you taught me a lot of tricks and..." he coughed, forcibly cutting off his rambling. "Uh, the point is, I want to get to know you. The real you. To try being friends again, properly this time. I'm sure Yang feels the same, and Sable...uh, okay, he's pretty upset right now but—"

Blake shook her head. "Don't sugarcoat it. He won't ever forgive me." Adam certainly wouldn't. Even though she had to admit Sable wasn't quite on that level (he hadn't tried to amputate any of her body parts), the two of them shared the same unyielding nature at heart. And Adam had once been a better person—or at least one with redeeming qualities—too, before he let the bitterness consume his soul. "Just tell him he should only hate me. No one else. Not the other faunus."

"Well, he forgave me in the end." Jaune retorted. He stood back up, favoring her with a encouraging smile. "Safe travels, Blake. And think about it, okay?" With that, he headed down the street after his partner. Blake remained watching for a few moments, before rising herself and turning the other way. Menagerie was far away, after all. She wouldn't get any closer to home by just sitting here.

His parting words replayed in her head with every step. The rational part of her brain told her it was all idealistic nonsense, that there was no way their respective deceptions were morally equivalent. Membership in a terrorist organization couldn't be overlooked so easily as a fudged transcript. Only a naive child raised on too many fairy tales would believe that. There lay the rub, though. Blake had been such a child once upon a time, and old habits were hard to completely kill. She just knew the faint hope would gnaw at her, all throughout the long journey east.

It had been a productive business trip, thought Jacques Schnee.

The devastation of Vale was rather inconvenient; in the short term, it would certainly disrupt supply chains and cause volatility in the global Dust market. Once the dust settled (no pun intended) however, the rebuilding process would lead to high demand for SDC products, so for the company it was a wash overall. But forget that. The really important thing was that Weiss was coming back home. He had to admit, he'd really been concerned when she forced her way out of Atlas, but her petty defiance had lasted only a year. Naturally, Weiss was a bit resentful about this. She determinedly avoided his gaze, instead staring silently out the airship window at the landscape of northern Sanus below. And yet despite her clear reluctance to return, still she had obeyed. She knew that if she tested his patience too much, all her future plans for the company could go up in smoke. After all he had Whitley—pliant, docile Whitley—waiting in the wings, waiting for the slightest excuse to disinherit her and install his favored son as heir.

It was imperative she continued to believe so, even though it wasn't actually true. The truth was, Whitley loved him little more than his other children did. The only difference was that he lacked his siblings' courage. Instead he'd chosen the path of appeasement and flattery, in hopes of evading his wrath and winning by default. It was comical, how he thought Jacques didn't realize this. Who did he think his father was? He'd spent enough of his life faking sincerity to tell when someone else was. No, Whitley could never be trusted with the company. Once Jacques was dead and gone, the sharks of the industry would tear that boy to shreds. For now, though, he remained useful as a bluff. It wouldn't do for Weiss to think she could do whatever she pleased.

Of course, he also had another son to consider. His eyes flicked over to the dark shadow sitting at Weiss's side. He'd always let Sable believe that his father simply despised him, but once again that was not the entire truth. Jacques still recalled the uncanny familiarity that had passed over him when he'd first seen the boy's black hair, Gelé hair. Later observations had only reinforced that impression. Despite being born into the richest family on Remnant, Sable had never acted satisfied with his lot in life. No amount of luxuries, it seemed, could curb his desire to have more, to be more...

It was funny how Jacques had fathered four children, but only one of them was truly his son.

He had resolved then, resolved that he would never let himself be usurped as he'd done to poor Nicholas. He would never let Sable learn how to play the corporate game and hide his true nature behind a kindly face. Let him follow in Winter's footsteps instead, become a brute who saw raw violence as the only means to power. Although, to Jacques's displeasure, he had dragged Weiss onto the Huntsman's path with him. His heiress would never have conceived of such idiocy on her own, he was sure. And now Sable was coming home too. Slightly damaged, yes, but a wounded beast was a dangerous one.

Well, in life one had to take the bad with the good. Putting family issues out of mind, he refocused his attention on the blond boy sitting across from him. It may have seemed uncharacteristically generous of him to allow an outsider onto his private ship, but he had his reasons. Jaune Arc had apparently saved his son's life, and it wouldn't do to look like an ungrateful father. Plus as a new, unknown player in the game, it behooved Jacques to get his full measure. What he had learned so far was reassuringly unimpressive. The Arc family was a line of petty soldiers from a backwater frontier town, with no connection to anyone of remote importance, and young Jaune evinced no ambitions beyond following his ancestors' example. By all appearances he was an earnest young man, but still Jacques remained wary. Some people were very good at pretending to be earnest young men. He would know. "So, Jaune." he said with feigned casualness. "Tell me more about how you met my children."

"Uh, Mr. Schnee?" Jaune had become steadily more pale and sweaty during the course of their conversation/interrogation. "I don't feel so good. Can I go to the bathroom?"

Jacques smiled nastily. Ah, did he have something to hide then? "Come now, young man. Surely you can stay and indulge a father's curiosity?"

Jaune twitched convulsively. "Well, I warned you."

He pitched forward, and vomited all over Jacques's very expensive trousers.

Weiss and Sable would cherish the memory of his horrified screams until the end of their days.

The missions...the nightmares...they're finally over. Part of me feels I should say something poignant. To steal a quote, though—last words are for fools who haven't said enough, and with 300k+ words I feel I've said plenty. Obviously there are some unresolved plot points, and I understand if that bothers people, but to steal another quote, stories never end, the author just stops writing. I'm happy that most people who reviewed seem to have liked the story, but if I've learned one thing, it's that this whole writing thing does not come naturally to me. The process has felt like squeezing blood from a stone from a while now. I have mad respect for people who can juggle multiple stories and post a chapter per week and still do things that actually matter.

I expect the decision to not have Blake and Sable reconcile will be a controversial one, but honestly, I don't see either of them being emotionally ready to sit down and talk it out. There have been 2 extra volumes for things to fester, they're coming off one of the most traumatic days of their lives, and honestly, even with character development Sable is still kind of a dick.

Qrow not spilling the beans on Salem is maybe another one. Again, I don't think he would given that he waited in canon until they were halfway across Mistral. It feels he's willing to drop hints but doesn't want to plunge his nieces straight into the conspiracy life, but of course, you're free to disagree.

Tried putting a bit of a twist on Jacques in the last segment...do want to stress that his opinion of Sable's character should not be taken as gospel, nor Blake and Qrow's for that matter. All of them view him through the lens of their own experiences and have their own biases.

Anyways, I don't know what happens next. This might end up being my first and last story, or I might come back to write something more lightweight if I feel the itch. Maybe I'll try a premise people actually want to read next time. People seem to like React fics, right...?

Goodbye.