NOTE (March 3, 2018): Here's a quick one. Written on the spot, unedited, and thrown out here because I'm currently feeling high from RWBY and Madness Combat. Had to get my fix, man.

Inspired by "CHASE . fla" and by "SACRIFICE . fla" Krinkels. Check 'em out on YouTube.

Pyrrha Nikos gasped awake.

Instinct made it that her hand reached up to her chest to yank on the shaft of the arrow that had gone through her. But there was no arrow. And neither was there a hole nor any blood.

Rather, she found herself whole and unblemished albeit ruffled, scraped, and dirtied. Her mind, previously addled, now cleared and the first thing that she registered was the cloudless crimson sky. The ground was rough, cold, and hard. She made to stand but her body was still stiff and she only managed to sit up. Through labored breathing, she took in her surroundings.

The world around her was a void. A sort of broken afterlife where chunks of earth and grey matter floated over the abyss. No sun, no celestial bodies, no other living thing she could discern... She was alone.

"Am I... Am I in Hell?" she fearfully wondered.

The last thing she could recall was her duel with Cinder Fall atop the ruins of the tower of Beacon Academy. It was hazy but the details slowly filtered in. Her weapons breaking, the arrow piercing her heart, the fire that would have consumed her...that would have ended her... She was supposed to be dead. Was this the afterlife then? Has her soul been damned by virtue of her life? Had she become the plaything of whatever twisted deities that still existed, passing arbitrary judgment so they could relish in her tribulations?

Then something happened.

Pyrrha couldn't quite explain it. But given that she was no longer on Remnant, she guessed that she had woken up in Hell...or at least whatever version of the 'bad place' that many of a fanatical preacher she had heard scream out the top of their lungs. The atmosphere shook, as though someone had swung a sledgehammer against a structural foundation, causing a large fissure in reality.

There it was again.

The shockwave rippled through...everything. She straggled to her feet, absorbing the force that caused her heart to skip a beat, and stumbled back onto her rear when the air in front of her literally shattered open.

And a man who had been through much worse leapt through, rifle in hand.

He stiffened as their eyes locked. He was filthier, adorned in a tattered overcoat, dirty bandages wrapped around the back of his head. A bent communicator hugged his right temple, hanging off his weather visor cap. He was panting, sweating, tense with adrenaline pumping through his veins. It was clear he had just been through something. Most likely something harrowing, exciting...

Pyrrha opened her mouth to speak when he turned on his heels and shot several bursts into the darkness he emerged from. After he seemed satisfied, he looked back at her, studying her. She could see his lower jaw bore horrid scars. Like they had been shredded and put back together.

"Wh-who..."

"The name's Deimos. You?"

She gulped. "P-Pyrrha. Pyrrha Nikos."

Deimos grunted. "Dead?"

"I... I think so."

"Welcome to Purgatory then. Just got here?"

"I... I don't know... I'm s-sorry..."

The man sighed. "It's alright, kid. It can be a bit overwhelming but you get used to it. Sort of."

"You... You died?"

Deimos stared at her. "Why else do you think I'm here? Been shot a whole lot but some lucky bastard got me with near half a clip. Nine bullets, I remember. Five hit got me in the back, a couple coming out my chest. Four went right here"—he pointed to the splotches of dark skin covering his chin—"ripped right through my skull."

Pyrrha gawked. She was definitely dead if this person so casually explained how he was brutally expelled from the world of the living. How long had he been here? Maybe he could help...? Help her with what though? She was dead. A soul forever cursed to wander this afterlife. What was she supposed to now?

It took her a while to recover her voice. "I...was shot in the chest."

"... Right. Okay."

"With an arrow."

The man studied her, confused, until his gaze settled on her breastplate. Then he sighed again and shook his head. "Of course. Sure. There's always an unlimited number of ways to kill someone."

"I'd rather...not think about that."

"I don't blame you, kid."

Deimos peered again into the hole he came out of. After a while, he peered a third time. He caught her inching away, giving him odd looks. "Just...paranoid. Carryover from when I was still alive."

"You were...a soldier?"

"Was. More of a contractor, actually. Operator."

"Operator?"

"Mercenary, you could say. My last mission cost me as you can very well see."

Pyrrha sat back down on the ground, feeling a tad bit more comfortable in this uncomfortable world. She waited for him to stop pacing in front of the hole, looking in, looking around, aiming his gun in several directions, wiping the sweat from his brow, then repeating the whole ritual.

"Did you fight for Atlas?" she asked.

"... What?"

"Atlas. Did you report to General Ironwood?"

"Ah, no." Deimos slouched. Not as relaxed but still. "We...worked for a...non-government organization...that was, uh, indirectly subordinate to a...much larger government organization."

"I see." Pyrrha could understand why he was apprehensive. "I...I was a student."

"Huh. Murder?"

"... Yes."

The man studied her again. Then he sighed again and sat in front of her, his rifle on his lap. "Listen, kid. If it makes you feel any better, I've been looking for a way out."

Her green eyes lit up. "B-but we're dead!"

"And I've seen men break out of Hell after having their bodies gibbed to molecules. It's possible. Trust me. I've been working on it for...I don't know, years maybe... Felt a lot like years... Time isn't a thing in the afterlife."

"How can you be sure?"

Deimos offered her a wry grin. "The people who killed me... They've been sending their goons here. To really finish me off. I don't know why. I'm already dead but I guess they're either crazy or really want me not to come back. Makes you think, really. We're already dead but we can make others here more dead than us. Where then do they go? Or do their souls, if they have any, stop existing?"

Pyrrha sputtered like a fish out of water. That sounded as senseless as it was terrifying. The destruction of a soul? Then again, that explained his behavior, his outlook. Constantly looking over his shoulder, checking for pursuers, finger resting on the trigger of his rifle.

"I know," he continued. "Hard to believe. But if you stick around, put your two cents in, maybe we can get out of this together."

A multitude of thoughts clouded her brain. She felt a little dizzy but steadied herself. Her physical body may have ceased to exist but if what Deimos was saying was true... She had to take that chance. She had to get back to the surface. She needed to see Jaune again! She had to get back to her friends, her family, the people she cared about, the people she loved! She could actually cheat death, cheat fate, cheat destiny. This was not how Pyrrha Nikos should go. She went down fighting but this time, should she go down fighting harder—she would be taking Cinder with her.

After a long pause and a resolute nod, she took his hand as he helped her up.

Deimos smiled. "You've got a good grip there. Got experience?"

"I was a tournament fighter."

"Right. Guess that explains the get-up. Can see some muscle on you, too. Your name as well, I suppose. Birth name?"

"Yes."

"That so? Sounded more like something the papers call you after you win enough fights. You Greek?"

"Huh?"

"Eh, never mind. Got your head in order, at least."

"I do. So...where do you think we should start?"

The man pointed to the scattered chunks of earth floating around them. "We get off this rock. No doubt the pricks coming after me are going to follow up with that hole you saw me crawl out of."

"How do you suppose we do that?"

Deimos flashed her a smile that hinted at insanity. "We jump."

"Wha—" Pyrrha nearly bit her tongue when he snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her towards him before immediately sprinting towards and leaping off the nearby ledge.

She almost screamed but didn't. Rather, she felt her heart race up to her chest as they fell. Or floated. Or glided. Hovered? It didn't matter. They drifted unevenly in the abyss, eventually landing roughly on their legs atop a much larger chunk of floating earth. A towering structure stood in the distance, like a cement block propped up on sand.

Deimos pointed to its front doors. "We go there."

"H-how can you be so sure...?" she asked between gasps.

"Only one way to find out."

So far, she had felt completely deprived of her most valuable innate assets. Her Aura was unresponsive to the point of being non-existent. Her Semblance as well did not manifest. Obviously, there was no Dust around. And no familiar weapons that she could use other than what Deimos carried. Pyrrha realized glumly that she only had her base physical strength to rely on now. But at least she could hold her own in a fist fight.

"How old are you, kid?" the man asked.

"Seventeen, sir."

"No need to 'sir' me, Pyrrha. Do you know how to use a gun?"

"I do."

"Formal training?"

"Yes?"

"Good enough." Deimos reached into his coat and handed her a pistol as well as a couple of magazines. "Make every shot count."

Pyrrha gulped. Killing people? She hoped it wasn't people. She had enough of that experience, thank you. She slowly took the weapon, feeling the groove of the handle and pulling the slide back. She slid in the magazine and flicked off the safety. She shut her eyes. Breath in, breath out. Then opened them to see Deimos nodding at her sagely.

"Get used to it, kid. There's no other way."

"I'll try. Lead on."

With an unnerving grin, the man raised his rifle ahead and marched towards their new objective with her following closely behind.

ORIGINALLY DRAFTED: March 3, 2018

LAST EDITED: August 31, 2023

INITIALLY UPLOADED: March 3, 2018

NOTE (March 3, 2018): I might edit this later on. Perhaps add some more stuff. If any of you have been following Krinkel's animations recently, you might understand the setting here. This idea has been going around in my head for a month now because I kept listening to the soundtrack to and watching RWBY on the side. Funny how the mind can mesh together two completely different niches into a workable cross-over.

Anyway, hope you guys like this one. This was just a quick fic, written in less than an hour, and posted immediately thereafter. Nothing serious, really. Just a random idea, random one-shot.

Have a nice day, folks.

-~oOo~-

NOTE (August 31, 2023): So I came back to this and made some rewrites. Added some flavor text and expanded on the interactions a bit more.