Invalid search.

Weiss hummed thoughtfully to herself. She typed in, "Search 30 feet."

Invalid search.

"Search radius 30 feet."

Invalid search.

"Radius 30 feet."

Invalid search.

"30 feet radius."

Invalid search.

Weiss huffed and turned off the Skeleton Key. She couldn't imagine how Ruby had the patience for this. Weiss already knew what the Key was looking for and she still couldn't guess the correct command. It was just as well. She couldn't be tempted by the device if she didn't know how to use it. One momentary indulgence of curiosity was enough for now.

A few minutes later, Ruby finally knocked on Weiss's door and poked her head inside. She was wearing a fresh set of clothes and her hair was damp. She'd recently come back from a jog. Weiss had turned down the offer to join her, opting to stay inside where she didn't have to do anything that reminded her of her time spent held captive in a ruined parking garage.

"You're cutting it close." Weiss stood and joined her in the hallway.

"We've still got five minutes," said Ruby.

Together, they made their way to the nearby canteen where Penny hovered around an outdoor table while Pietro sat in his wheelchair. He was busy with something on his scroll, but Penny noticed them immediately and waved them over. The two girls sat down, unsure of why he'd asked to meet them here.

"Ah! Good evening." Pietro greeted them as he put his scroll away. "Could we have a moment alone, sweetheart?" he said to his daughter.

"Of course." Penny stood and gave him a brief squeeze on the shoulder. "I'll get some coffee. Would you two like any?"

"Sure," Weiss said. "Black, please."

"Milk and four sugars," Ruby requested.

With that, Penny bounded off and the two girls turned their attention to Pietro.

"So what did you—?" Ruby started to ask.

"'It is in passing that we achieve immortality,'" said Pietro. "'Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all, infinite in distance and unbound by death.' Do either of you fully understand the meaning of these words?"

"That's the quote in front of Pyrrha Nikos's statue," Weiss recalled.

"That is true, but those words originate not from the Protector of Vale, but from another vigilante who devoted her life to the city of Styx in my home country."

"The Grim Reaper?" Ruby said, intrigued.

"Indeed."

"Wait," said Weiss. "Isn't that just an urban myth?"

"Certainly not," said Pietro. "The Grim Reaper has fought crime for decades and saved countless lives, as anyone from Styx could attest to."

"She's been around even since my uncle was a kid," said Ruby. "He used to tell me stories about her when I was a little girl. She was one of the first superheroes I ever looked up to."

"Superhero?" Weiss repeated, still dubious. "So she's a paragon. What's her semblance?"

"No one really knows," said Ruby. "That's part of what makes her so mysterious."

"There are many conflicting rumors," said Pietro. "It keeps her enemies on their toes. But I'm afraid we've veered off track. Now, you know the dogma and where it stems from, but you haven't answered my question. What does it mean?"

"It means we live on even after death through the legacies we leave behind," Ruby answered readily. "And Pyrrha . . . well, with what she did, she left a pretty big one that's not going anywhere any time soon."

"That's right," said Pietro. "Now, I wanted to ask the both of you this: What legacies do you hope to leave behind after you're gone?"

Neither woman said anything at first. Weiss could tell Ruby had expected that question about as little as she had, and was just as unprepared to answer it.

"Might I ask why, Dr. Polendina?" Weiss finally said.

"It's important to put our goals into perspective," said Pietro. "I've done a lot through my years—made my contributions to science and left my mark on the world of technology. But when my time comes, the only legacy I'll care to have left is that my daughter gets the chance to create hers. We all aspire to do great things, and sometimes we succeed. But that's often not enough. So before you go spending too much of your life focusing on the wrong things, ask yourself whether they'll make the legacy you truly want to create. If not, then you need to find and pursue what will before it's too late."

A heavy silence followed. What kind of legacy did they want to leave behind? Weiss hadn't the slightest clue how to answer that. With Partridge actively hunting down her and her entire family, she wasn't even sure she'd live long enough to create any sort of legacy.

"But why are you asking us?" Ruby asked, seeming equally unsure of herself.

"Penny thinks rather highly of the both of you," said Pietro. "I wanted to see for myself the potential you have. Think about my question. You don't have to tell the answer to me. No, think nothing of it. All that matters is that you can find it for yourselves."

"Is . . . is that really the only thing you wanted to say to us, Dr. Polendina?" Weiss said doubtfully.

"For now, it is."

Weiss felt that there was almost definitely more to this than he was letting on, but it was clear he wasn't about to tell them what that was. So, she figured it best to move on to what she and Ruby had discussed earlier. "Well, then, if you don't mind, would it be alright if we ran something by you?"

"Why, of course."

"The thing is," said Ruby, "you're pretty well connected, right? Well, we were wondering if you could recognize any of the people in these pictures we have, or at least point us in the right direction."

"I can try, for sure," said Pietro, "though I must warn you, my memory isn't what it once was."

Weiss pulled out her scroll and showed him the screen. Through all her digging into the manor's security footage, she'd learned a few things. The last time Whitley was at the manor before meeting Weiss there had been the day of their father's attack. Before then, he had been living there for a brief period and had also met with a handful of people. A few Weiss knew, as they were either important in the tech industry or had some sort of past affiliation with the STC. The rest she and Ruby didn't know, so they agreed to ask Pietro whether he did.

"Hm. Well, this young fellow—" Pietro pointed at the picture of a man who looked to be in his mid-twenties "—I tuned into a ceremony where he won an award in engineering. Can't recall his name, I'm afraid. And I don't know any of the rest, but . . . Oh, dear. This woman—I saw her face a little bit ago on the news. She just died."


Megan and Marion Lachs, a pair of siblings, were found stabbed to death in their office earlier that day. They were the sole employees of their own small company that developed and maintained an obscure software popular among programmers. Megan had met with Whitley at the manor about a week ago. Since the security cameras didn't capture audio, it's impossible to say what they'd discussed, though it was a reasonable assumption that Whitley had simply wanted her to join his business. Why she and her brother had been murdered a short time after this was another question entirely.

Finding out how the Lachses' murders were connected to everything else that's been going on was a tall order. Weiss and Ruby didn't have any ideas other than trying to examine the crime scene—which was obviously impossible—so they had no choice but to pursue other avenues. They still couldn't identify most of the faces the Skeleton Key had revealed to them, but there were some they did know and even a few they could track down. So, for the third time, Ruby teleported them out of the base.

They started by visiting the main building of a smaller subsidiary company once owned by the STC. The company's CEO was among those who'd visited Whitley at the manor. That meeting can't have gone well, as the first mention of Whitley's name prompted his secretary to threaten to call security. The next two people they tried were just as fruitless—the head of an accounting firm and a data analyst, both of whose offices were closed when they arrived.

After three pointless cab rides, it was starting to get rather late, though it hadn't exactly been too early in the day when they started. Not wanting to push their luck too far, Weiss chose one more name to gamble on before calling it a night.

She and Ruby arrived at the home of Cooper Myrtle, one of the few STC board members who hadn't been convicted of any white-collar crimes. Weiss had spoken with him a couple of times when her father had invited him to the manor, but other than that she didn't know him. He seemed like one of the more genuine businessmen she'd met, which wasn't as comforting as she would have liked.

"Do you think he'll talk to you?" Ruby asked as they approached the front door. "I mean, we are just showing up at his house out of the blue."

"We'll see." Weiss rang the doorbell.

They waited, but no answer came. Weiss tried again. She hadn't heard anything, so, considering the possibility that the doorbell was broken, she tried knocking. The door, unlatched, opened at her touch.

"Hello?" Weiss called out. When there was still no movement from inside, she tried the doorbell again. This time she was able to hear it.

"I think something's wrong," Ruby said.

"He's just not home," Weiss said dismissively. "And he forgot to close his door properly. It happens."

"No, look." Ruby was looking through the window. She pointed at a doorway where a black liquid and shards of ceramic were spilled on the floor. "Who makes a mess and then just leaves without cleaning it up?"

"Perhaps he was running late. That'd explain why he didn't lock his door."

"I really feel like something's off," Ruby insisted. "We should go take a look, at least."

"Ruby, that's trespassing!"

"But it could be an emergency!"

Weiss bit her lip. She did have to admit the circumstances were rather odd. "Alright, fine. We'll just take a quick peek inside."

Ruby showed no signs of triumph over having convinced her, which meant she really was worried.

Weiss pushed the door the rest of the way open and stepped over the threshold, making sure Ruby was still close by so she could teleport them at an instant if need be. She kept her eyes open, looking around for any other oddities as they slowly headed for what she assumed to be a dropped mug of coffee.

The instant they could see through the open doorway, Ruby was proven right. Weiss gasped and stumbled backward; Ruby grabbed her to keep her balanced. Lying on the dining room floor, staring up at the ceiling as a crimson liquid pooled around him, was Cooper Myrtle. Ruby hurried forward, presumably to check his pulse or try to help him in some way, and then she stopped just shy of the blood. It was already too late.

"Ruby, we need to go," Weiss said in a hushed voice. She took several tentative steps forward until she could reach out and grab her friend's wrist. Now closer to the body, she could see several darker spots on his once nice white shirt—stab wounds.

Ruby said nothing. She simply continued to stand there in a stunned silence. Weiss was about to drag her out of there, now, but then a shiver ran down her spine as a sinister laughter came from across the dining room beyond its other entrance.

"Oh, what little birdies have found themselves in my nest?" The laughter grew louder, more maniacal, until its source entered the room.

Tyrian Callows was not a man who could ever be accurately portrayed through a screen. The sharpest image of him was like a badly-drawn cartoon compared to the real thing. A camera could not capture the aura of malevolence that radiated from his mere presence. A lens could not see the unbridled lust for sadism that Weiss saw in his golden eyes. No photograph could convey the terrifying image of death he truly was.

He entered the room at a leisurely pace, grinning sadistically. He jumped up and crouched on top of the table, looking down at them like a starving man beholding a grand banquet. His dark hair hung in a greasy mop, the back of it braided into a tight ponytail. He still wore the same red jumpsuit of a Little Sister inmate, the sleeves ripped off at the shoulders and the buttons ripped open to reveal his scarred chest.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose, somehow widening his smile even further. "The fear. I never grow tired of the fear."

"Ruby!" Weiss yelled, tightly gripping her wrist and desperately wondering why she hadn't teleported them to safety yet.

Tyrian looked stunned, and then a second later, outraged. He descended upon Weiss faster than she could process and pinned her against the doorframe. His thin build veiled the great strength he possessed.

"You dare?" he spat with absolute fury, inches away from her face. Weiss tried to turn her head away, but he grabbed her chin and forced her to look him in the eyes. "You think yourself equal to her? You're nothing! You're not her, you're not my goddess, you're not my goddess!"

"I-I never said I was!" Weiss pleaded.

"Liar!" he bellowed.

Weiss clenched her eyes shut, no longer able to bear the sight of him as she waited fearfully to become as riddled with holes as the man on the floor.

"No no no no no. No! Look at me!" said Tyrian.

Weiss refused. She couldn't open her eyes even if she wanted to.

"Look at me! Tell me, tell me how! You're not my goddess! Look at me!"

With the final words Weiss felt a sharp point pressed into her stomach, not hard enough to break skin yet but hard enough to send a message. With a great effort, Weiss opened her terrified eyes and saw not Tyrian Callows, but the severely scarred face of the man who'd sliced a gash over her left eye. She recalled how she felt on that day. It didn't even begin to compare to what she felt now.

She remembered Jaune jumping in at the last second to save her then, though she hadn't known who he was yet. No one was coming to save her this time, and she didn't know why. Ruby was right here, but she wasn't doing anything. Something was wrong. Perhaps . . . perhaps this time it was Weiss's turn to save her.

She concentrated on the contact of Tyrian's hand on her chin, and she prayed it was enough. She'd never done it this way before. Her eyes closed once again and she took a deep breath, then she felt herself leaving this world for another.


In the Emerald Forest, Weiss immediately dropped to her knees and took the time to catch her breath. Then she let out an anguished, furious scream.

Why? Why? Why did these things keep happening to her? Of all the things, of all the people . . . This hadn't even been a risk! All she'd done is try to talk to a man at his home. This wasn't fair!

Minutes passed, or what felt like minutes—in the real world, no time had passed at all. She tried to calm herself. If she was going to get herself and her best friend away from this serial killer unharmed—god, that's such a surreal challenge she had to face—then she needed to be thinking coherently. And, now allowing rational thoughts to cross her mind, she realized she hadn't taken even a moment to observe the mindscape.

Slowly, Weiss stood. She looked around and saw the trees of the Emerald Forest and no signs of movement from any direction. It was a miracle she hadn't been swarmed by Grimm already. It was night, and the weather was clear . . . Why was the weather clear? Every time she'd entered someone's mind against their will, she'd been met with a storm and a lightning strike that destroyed her rapier. But there was no voice from the sky demanding her to leave, and there was no faceless avatar trying to fight her off, either. Did that mean Tyrian wanted her here? Or was he somehow incapable of resisting her?

How do you go about curing a person who was this completely and utterly deranged? Was it even possible? If you take away the psychopathy, what does that leave? She'd be changing the very fabric of his being. Even if he survived the process, the man he currently was would be effectively dead. The world would be better off, but that wasn't something Weiss was prepared to do to anyone, even Tyrian Callows.

It didn't matter. She was thinking too big. She had two things she needed to accomplish while in here—to potentially learn whatever she could about who had broken him out of prison, and to cause some kind of disruption in here that could distract him long enough for Ruby and her to escape.

As she began to move amongst the trees, it was as if her semblance had sensed she was ready. A window appeared up ahead, and from a distance she could see only darkness through it. She approached slowly, alert for Grimm and fearful of what she was about to witness.

Tyrian stood atop a roof, looking down upon a woman traveling the sidewalk alone at night. It didn't look like anywhere in Atlas, which meant it was likely Vacuo. He followed her from his vantage point, leaping from building to building to keep up with her. When she finally turned down an alleyway, he began to giggle to himself.

Weiss knew what she was watching, and she didn't like it. This isn't what she was after, yet her curiosity kept her eyes glued to the window. She'd look away before having to watch this innocent woman get murdered, but this could at the very least give her an idea as to how his semblance works.

Tyrian hopped down to the nearest fire escape and nimbly descended toward the ground, his laughter growing more sinister and excited. He jumped the last two levels and landed less than twenty feet away from the woman, who finally heard him and turned around.

Weiss gasped. Tyrian's victim had blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin, and the shadow of a face that you could tell was once beautiful, but was now hollow and sunken and tainted by Weiss's knowledge of future deeds.

Tyrian giggled gleefully and took a leisurely approach toward her, in much the same way he had just done to Weiss and Ruby. He pulled out a knife which he twirled through his fingers, accidentally cutting himself with it but seeming not to notice. Salem made an upward flicking motion with her hand and the knife flew out of his grip and into the sky. Tyrian's laughter ceased immediately and he froze.

"Fear," he said, sounding genuinely confused. "Why have you no fear?"

Salem smiled coldly and took measured steps toward the serial killer. "Fear belongs to those who have yet something left to lose."

Tyrian drew another knife and lunged at her. This time, she ripped a ladder off the fire escape with hand movements alone and used it to pin him to the alley wall. She used her semblance to take the second knife from him, this time catching it. She walked right up to Tyrian, who was immobilized, and pressed the tip of the blade against his cheek. Weiss, looking through Tyrian's eyes, could not see it happen but she vaguely felt the memory of her slowly cutting him, and him grinning as a result.

"Who are you?" he asked, voice full of wonder.

Salem sent the ladder away with a wave of her hand, freeing him. He made no sudden moves, staying there of his own volition, entranced. She cupped his face with a single palm and looked directly into his eyes.

"I am your goddess," she said.

Tyrian dropped to his knees and prostrated himself before her feet.


In any other circumstances, a view inches away from Salem's face would be the most terrifying thing Weiss had ever seen. The woman's semblance wasn't even close to the scariest part, either. That eerie calmness, those eyes completely devoid of any soul, and the ease with which she was able to manipulate and bend a psychotic murderer to her will—witnessing it firsthand contextualized her wickedness in a brand new light. Weiss had heard and read a lot about Salem since the assault, as had most of the world, yet none of it had prepared her for what she just saw. That memory made her out to be an even more imposing figure than before, sure, but with that came the understanding that where people like Tyrian Callows never got the chance to be truly human due to their mental illnesses, Salem was a person who'd been broken and corrupted to an extent Weiss didn't know was possible. There was an innocent version of Salem that had died long before Pyrrha had sacrificed herself to kill what remained. That was the scariest part of that memory.

As Weiss continued to wander, pondering what she'd just seen while also getting more and more uneasy the longer she went without seeing any Grimm, the second memory appeared to her. There was something strange about this one. Where all other windows hovered in midair, perfectly unmoving, this one wobbled ever so slightly, and cracks spread across its surface.

Wary, she approached and looked through into some sort of meeting room. There were five chairs around a table, two of them vacant. Salem sat at the head with Tyrian across from her. To her right was a large and muscular man with slicked back brown hair and a beard unaccompanied by a mustache. He wore an unzipped green motorcycle jacket over a tight-fitting black tank top. His expression was perfectly impassive as he stared straight ahead.

A scroll began to ring on the table in front of Salem. She answered it in speaker mode and said, "I expect good news."

"All preparations have been taken care of here." A woman spoke from the other end with a cold yet familiar voice. "Our newest member has performed his task admirably."

"He hasn't!" Tyrian spat suddenly. "He failed! Because you betrayed us!"

"Well done, Cinder," said Salem. She—as well as everyone else—behaved as if they hadn't even heard Tyrian's outburst. "With the vigilante problem taken care of, there's nothing left stopping us from proceeding. We shall begin our march at dawn."

"Understood," said Cinder and the large man in unison.

"No!" Tyrian yelled. "We can't! We'll fail, you'll die! We must delay! My goddess, I beg of you!"

A strange warping effect crossed the room, and Salem turned her head in a stiff and robotic motion to look Tyrian in the eyes. "You are right. We will delay. Thank you, Tyrian. It is heartening to know that you, at least, remain loyal."

The glass shattered and the frame fell to the ground, the memory gone. Weiss didn't get nearly enough time to try to process this one, as she soon felt the ground trembling beneath her feet, ever so slightly. She held her rapier tight and prepared herself. A short time later, no less than six Death Stalkers erupted from the trees and surrounded her. Knowing she was far outmatched, Weiss dropped to her knees and closed her eyes. Hoping for the best, she returned to the real world.

The present Tyrian immediately let go of her and recoiled, collapsing into the puddle of Cooper Myrtle's blood. He sat in a fetal position and began to repeatedly smack himself in the head. "No! No! It's not true! She lives, she lives! We delayed, we succeeded! She lives!"

Weiss ran over to Ruby, who still hadn't moved an inch, and grabbed her shoulders. Ruby's face was completely petrified, frozen in such an intense fear that Weiss hadn't known she was capable of. This was the girl who'd infiltrated Torchwick's warehouse and taken a bullet for Weiss without hesitation. Yet here she stood, immobilized with complete and utter terror.

"Ruby!" Weiss shook her.

Ruby blinked and her expression turned to one of confusion. "Weiss?"

"Come on! We have to go!"

Ruby seemed to suddenly remember where they were and what was happening. A steely determination took over her. She turned her head to look out the window, grabbed Weiss's hand, and teleported them to safety.


A/N: Credit to my beta readers: Bardothren and I Write Big. They're great writers who are a huge help with making this story as good as it can be.