The tundras of Solidas roared one night, gusts of wind carried thick plumes of snow and warped the landscape in a frozen haze. Flights outside of Atlas were not advised at the time, but that didn't deter one lone airship.

Inside, a unit dressed in yellow Atlesian armor sat alone in the passenger hull. Purple lights on her helmet faceplate scanned down at a white and yellow plated mechanical hand. She curled the fingers up and down, turned her wrist gently, watched the collection of artificial muscle fibers shift and contract. There was no flaw in any of its movements, as she closed her fingers into a fist. She wore thick golden cuffs around her wrists.

A sudden beep through her helmet caused her to raise her head. A man's voice came through and told her, "Alright, listen up. We should be a few clicks out from the objective. Do you need a quick refresh on the brief?"

"Sure, a refresher wouldn't hurt," she said, her voice garbled by a digital scrambler.

The speaker went on. "Happy Huntress groups ambushed multiple WK convoys in the area surrounding the dust drilling station nearby. Response teams have been silent for half an hour. We're assuming the ambush led to the capture of the facility and our boys got captured too. You may look for hostages, but your top priority is the HH's. Your orders are shoot-to-capture. Understood?"

"Got it."

"We're coming up on the drop zone. Get ready."

The yellow officer nodded and stood. She grabbed a hold of a handle as the airship made a soft bank turn, and the bayside door opened.

There, down below, a rainbow-colored flame roared ablaze, piercing the dense snowy winds. That torrent of fire and Dust marked the site of the drilling plant run by the White Knight Company, a radically revamped mining site formerly owned by the Schnee Dust Company.

"Aerial drop in three-two-one…"

She didn't wait for the one. She jumped and the airship whisked away like a bolt while she glided down in freefall. She rocked herself forward and folded herself straight diving headfirst like an arrow. Then she hurled herself frontwards and rolled into her landing, and her fist shattered the tarmac beneath her.

She ripped her fist out, looked up and scanned the rooftop around her. No one was to be seen.

She stood and stepped up to a guardrail overlooking the sunroof of the main building. She flicked a touch slider on her helmet and looked at the interior through digital-sonar vision—if the facility's CCTV system was working, the feedback data would make the entire building appear see-through—but all was dark.

"Huh…?" She turned off the filter and looked in plain view again after she spotted a speck of red disappearing into the dark. If her eyes were visible behind the mask, they'd be in a tight squint.

She lurched over the rail and dropped through the glass below, making the long fall to the ground floor. A loud thud echoed through the lobby as she hit the ground. She stood and looked around at her surroundings, but the floor was empty. She could hear the machines running in the east wing of the plant, but it was as though everyone inside had disappeared.

A few metallic clacks and her cuffs transformed into full gauntlets, and she racked her arms back and loaded shots into the chambers. Then she began her walk into the east wing, the belly of the beast.

Large machines cranked and churned loudly, working non-stop to mine, refine, and purify the Dust the massive drills dug up from beneath the surface. The whole room was raging with oppressive heat, and through thick sheets of hardened reinforced glass were the flames of every variety of Dust the earth had to offer, and out through thick metal pipes lined with glass went slurries of rainbow colored powder. To see it all up close was nothing short of remarkable—one station could produce Dust the output of three mines that was twice as pure. To hear about it sounded like a fantasy; to see it with her own eyes, it was just stunning.

On the far side of the room, she saw a small doorway with a sign that read in big bold letters SECURITY. She went to it to see if she could find out who her team was dealing with, only to find a wall full of blank monitors, and the main computer and hard drives destroyed.

"These guys are smart, good to know…" she quietly groaned. Knowing there wouldn't be anything more to see, she turned and left the room.

Clack! A metallic snap echoed through the enclosure, followed by all the machines powering down, their glow from the furnaces dimming until all was black.

The captain quickly turned on her infrared, but everything was still too hot for her to see much of anything. Until everything in the room cooled down, she was effectively blind.

But there was more than one way to find what she couldn't see. A trick from an old friend.

She lowered her head, stood perfectly still in the middle of the room. She could hear the wind howling outside, the storm was getting stronger as the night went on; the air around her hummed, some of the ores inside the furnaces were still molten hot; bump…bump…she tilted her head slightly at that sound…bump…bump…it was just behind her, a slow, calm heartbeat—someone short—another female—young. She felt the other girls' Aura too, it was active. Another Huntress? It was also…red.

"There you are…" she whispered under her breath.

She clenched her fists. Then quickly turned and slung her arm forward.

Floosh! In half a second, her HUD was filled with a red flare coming at her, knocking her off her feet and flying.

"Agh!" She struggled as she was carried an untold distance, surrounded in some kind of fluttery red cloud.

Seconds after, she was thrown against a wall, just barely able to catch her bearings while the sound of a large heavy door slammed shut.

Then her assailant flipped the main breaker again, and the lights flickered on. She was just as the captain sensed: a short young girl, who wore a black and red uniform similar to what the Happy Huntresses wore, including their signature pin, and a red cape with the hood up, something she knew only one person in the whole world wore.

"Ruby…?" Her voice could be heard quivering behind her mask.

Ruby dropped her hood and allowed her face to be seen: a young woman with long, red tipped hair tied back, and silver eyes that gleamed just as brightly as ever. However, her voice had hardly changed at all as she softly greeted her. "Hey, Yang…"

A moment of pause crept through the air between them as Yang brought her hand up to her chin, and pushed the release for her mask. She removed her helmet, and her golden hair fell as she stood up. Words could not describe the anger that welled on her face, facing down her sister with eyes flickering between purple and red. Her jaw hung slightly agape, but there were no words she could say.

Ruby shifted her feet as she leaned against the door, an awkwardness that precluded any notion as to how to carry on this reunion. She saw the look on her sister's face, pleading for her to say something, if anything probably just to hear her speak, but she felt as though anything she said at this moment might set something off, and that was the last thing she wanted. Even still, she let go a deep breath, and said the first thing she could think of slowly: "Looks like life in Atlas has treated you well. Last I heard, you single handedly turned the tides in Vacuo."

"I did what I had to do," Yang snapped, her anger physically present as her hair began to throw sparks. "You seriously think that's what I wanted to hear? After five years and not even a letter?"

Ruby sighed, calmy answering, "What could I have said? Hey, I know it's been a while, just writing to let you know I joined Atlas' most wanted 'Terror Organization'? Yeah…I'm sure that would've been great to hear."

"What are you even doing with them?" Yang stepped forward, her boots clacked against the floor, as she stood now a few feet from her. "I didn't believe it when I heard people talking about it. I thought it was someone else—I refused to believe it was you. But clearly I was wrong, and now I want to know why!"

"Like you have no idea?" Ruby snapped, tucked her arms while she remained composed. "Raids in the kingdoms; mass arrests; surveillance; force against protesters…do I even need to go on? I thought you wanted to help people, not control them! To become a Huntress and travel the world and make it a better place!"

"Atlas is doing what is necessary," Yang growled, her fists balled up tight as she started pacing back and forth. "The Academies aren't enough. Yeah, Huntsmen and Huntresses kept Beacon standing, but the attack just shows we're letting too much slide. You might not like it, but we are helping people."

"By putting the boot on the necks of anyone who speaks out?" Now Ruby stepped away from the wall, stepping in Yang's path. They glared eachother down with daggers for eyes. "The Happy Huntresses were formed because of what Ironwood is doing—what you're doing—and I joined them because I can't just sit back and watch people suffer. It isn't right!"

"You think you have any high ground here?" It was then that Yang's eyes became solid red, glowing with little flames now. As she spoke further, her hand began to twitch. "The Happy Huntresses aren't very far from becoming like the White Fang: stoking protests, robbing convoys and storhouses, concealing criminals. And now you're attacking White Knight. What I'm doing—what Atlas is doing—is meant to stop things like this dead in their tracks. To stop something from happening before it happens!"

"You can't possibly know that!" Ruby snapped, inching her face closer to Yang's. Then her tone went softer, her expression more melancholy as she told her, "That kind of thinking, that you can stop things before they start, that's what creates the nightmare like what the people of Mantle are living in, and in Vale, and Mistral, and Vacuo! You're using what happened at Beacon as an excuse to take control over people's lives! The Happy Huntresses just want it to stop! And the White Fang's wanted things like equality and freedom for years! Do you think Blake would want to see you doing the things you're doing? She'd be- ugh!" She was cut off as Yang shoved her to the ground, leaving her looking up while her sister's hair roared aflame.

"You have no right to say her name!" She threw her arms down, her gauntlets folding out and ready to engage. "We can have all the talk you want about what's right and what needs to be done, but you don't have any right to say her name like you cared about her!"

"She was my partner too! My partner and my friend!" Ruby quickly got back on her feet, still not ready to engage her own sister. She wanted to try and calm her down, among so many other things. But more and more she was finding it less of a possibility. "Please…I don't want to do this."

"What is this then?" Yang growled, her flames simmering from the wild flares they once were. "Why are you here? What happened to the response teams and the facility staff?"

"It's just a supply run…" Ruby told her. She chose to be honest. "It was supposed to be the convoys, but the storm came in and one of our groups thought we'd try and take some more form here too."

"So you admit to armed robbery," Yang spat, her flames not subsiding. "And what about the people sent here?"

"They're all safe," Ruby responded. "Just in a pocket dimension one of my partners put them in. We'll let them go once we have what we need, then we'll leave and you can say you drove us off."

"Not…happening…" Yang growled, her fires growing again, her trembling hand closing tightly into a fist. "I am going to take you in. You're going to answer for what you've done."

"That's not happening either," Ruby responded, pulling out her scythe and unfolding the blade. "I really don't want to fight you, Yang, but if I have to, I will."

Yang only glared down at her, jamming her arms back and loading shells into the chambers, holding her gauntlets out in front of her. In a voice as hot as red steel, she said, "You made your choice, and I made mine a long time ago."

Ruby reared her scythe back, stepping along the opposite side of a circle from Yang, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

"Hagh!" With a loud bang from her gauntlets, Yang fired at the wall behind her and sent herself flying, bringing her feet up to kick Ruby square in the chest—her sister brought her scythe up to block, but the kick was so strong it sent her crashing through the door. And Yang didn't let up. One after another she fired off a wild flurry of shots—her sister was fast though, using her semblance to zip around each shot fired and getting closer to her.

"Yaaaagh!" Ruby cried, swung her scythe down and jammed into the floor. Yang barely got away. She folded the handle up and used her scythe like a pole and swung herself around. She kicked Yang right in the face and knocked her away.

Yang shook herself out of it, looked at her sister with fiery red eyes, breathed fumes as she brought herself to attack again. She shot behind her, dropped to the floor and slid while she closed the distance like a bullet. She raised her leg up to try and hit Ruby, but was met by her sister's own foot, stopping her momentum entirely. No matter, she used her new obstacle as leverage and fired another shot at the floor, swung around and struck her sister in the side with her heel. Still spiraling through the air, she fired off two more shots, both hit their target and sent Ruby flying into the lobby—and more importantly, far away from her scythe.

"Aaaagh!" Another concussive boom from Yang's gauntlets echoed through the building as she came soaring towards where Ruby landed. A shockwave followed as she hit the ground, destroying the floor in a wild blast of fire.

Again, Ruby was sent flying backwards, but she managed to land on her feet and fly away with her semblance, zipping past Yang in a haze of rose petals.

"You can't run fro-"—Clang!—"Huh? Woah!" Yang was hurled backwards after something took her by the wrist with incredible force. On the floor now, she looked at what grabbed her and found a thin chain with a curved knife wrapped around her gauntlet. She followed the length to another young woman who stood raveling up the slack with her back turned—she too wore a Happy Huntress uniform, colored white and purple.

"Sorry, can't have you hurting my partner," the girl snapped. She turned halfway around to face Yang. She had deep red hair with a braid, and had the kind of look about her that seemed like a child at first glance, but also older than she looked. She gave Yang a pesky sneer, a hand on her hip as she said, "So, you're Ruby's big sis, huh? Funny, she always told me you two used to get along so well…"

"Well I don't really approve of her choice in friends lately," Yang snapped. She finally undid the chain and got on her feet, and found she practically towered over this girl, not unlike another girl she fought on a train years ago.

The girl whipped the loose chain and snapped the knife back into her hand. She flourished the blade around as she relaxed her arms. She too didn't seem like she wanted to fight, but all the same she could tell Yang really wanted to, like a wild animal being cornered—only she was the one with the wall behind her. She told her, "Tsk, I'm sorry, I can't help Ruby in that department. Some things are just out of our control—like the shipment we're taking, and there isn't anything you can do to stop us."

"Try me, short stuff," Yang growled. Her eyes glowed a roaring red blaze as she brought her arms up for another go.

That's when Ruby appeared in a burst of rose petals between them, scythe in hand and pointed at Yang.

"It's the two of us against you now," she told her, loading a round into the chamber. "If I were you I wouldn't like those odds."

Yang didn't answer. She popped her neck and pounded her fists together as she stepped in for another round.


Outside of the plant, a hangar door opened, and out came a small group of Happy Huntresses and Huntsmen, weapons ready for any unexpected guards they might have missed. Two among them, a short sheep faunus and a taller woman with a long blue hair braid, stepped out in front of the others.

"Now or never, Fionna, come on!" said the blue haired woman. "That airship will be coming around any second!"

"Just a sec…" said Fionna. She concentrated with her hands out in front of her. Out of thin air appeared a large truck, and loaded inside were all the station staff and those of the response teams, all bound and gagged. Sheepishly, she told them, "Sorry! We were hoping this would've gone smoother!" She got mixed responses, but that was to be expected. She turned around and looked back at the cargo bay, a bit worried. "Where's Ruby? She should've joined back with us by now."

"You heard the gunshots," said the woman. "She probably engaged one of the-"

BOOM! She and everyone else were drawn to a great explosion that erupted out of the wall beside the hangar door. Yang came flying backwards through it, and hit the ground on her back. She rolled and jammed her prosthesis into the cement, and slid some ways before she came to a stop—right in the middle of the Happy Huntress group.

"Ugh…Damn…that little bitch packs a punch…" Yang groaned. Her chestplate took some dents, but still held strong. By her estimate, she guessed the blast took out a good chunk of her Aura. But then she got a look around her and realized things just got a whole lot more complicated. The Happy Huntress squad made a circle around her, weapons aimed and ready to fire.

Yang got back on her feet, and by the time she was, two clouds of red and purple petals appeared in front of her, and there before her were Ruby and that red-headed girl.

"Told you your chances weren't good against Thistle and I," Ruby teased, though she was hoping to get a laugh from her sister.

Yang bobbed her head around and brought her gauntlets to bear. She told her, "I've taken out Ursa on my own, been in the mouth of a Nevermore, destroyed a mech in one punch…trust me, this is nothing."

"A Nevermore?" Thistle raised an eyebrow in Ruby's direction.

"Another story we can talk about later," Ruby replied. She turned her attention back to her sister and told her, "Look around, Yang, these are some of our best fighters, just let us go and you can still say you drove us off."

At this, Yang's fire subsided. However, her eyes remained a deep blood-red glow, and she didn't disengage her gauntlets either. There was some ferociousness about her tone that seemed at the point ready to scream, but reigned back by an equally powerful resolve that might kill without skipping a single heartbeat: "They better be your best—last time I was surrounded like this, a lot of people didn't walk away."

Some among the circle quivered, looked amongst themselves, shakily holding their weapons tight in their hands. It rang true, for they heard of what she had done in Vacuo—stories passed from person to person—and now they stood facing the woman who was the source of them all. Now she stood like a behemoth before them, and they were ants ready to be stomped.

BOOM! No time to react. Yang thrust her arms down and shot herself flying backwards at an unprepared opponent; she twisted and cleaved her foot down on his head, his face hit the ground with a painful crack! She lurched up and started firing shots around—one hit—two—three—four! Bam! Bam! Bam!

Those still standing fired arrows at her, but Yang thrust her arms back and shot herself across the ground. She slid under the volleys of arrows and closed the distance in a second! Her arms rolled forward and she sprang up, and her heel plowed straight into another's jaw and sent that one flying backwards.

Then came an oncoming karambit knife attached to a chain.

Yang only just caught it at the last second. But then there was a sharp hiss, and—BOOM! She was sent flying backward.

Thistle snapped her chain back in hand. She unfurled the other one too and spun it around. Aloud, she said to her comrade's. "Step back everyone," and to Yang, she said, "I'll take this dance."

Yang growled, struck the ground under her fists and got up. She marched heavily towards her. Thistle matched pace, twirling her knives around in large circles. The two circled around, eyes locked, faces hard as steel.

Yang attacked first, a fist raised and ready to strike—Thistle turned on a dime and leapt into the air, her whole body rolled and her knives became like a giant circular saw—Yang feinted, shot her gauntlets and rocketed around the impending blades—Thistle wound one chain around her leg and whipped her body around with the knife on the end, the blade came crashing down over Yang's back, and another burst tore the air asunder!—near miss, Yang escaped by the skin of her teeth with a somersault dive led into another burst from her gauntlets, and put herself high above Thistle—as Thistle touched the ground, Yang fired shot after shot like a shotgunning airstrike, and forced her opponent to duck and roll out of the way—Thistle traced Yang's fall and swung her knives right as she came down—a quick shot and Yang stopped her fall long enough for the chains to sail over and under her—touchdown, Yang faced her and rolled away from another oncoming blade that shattered the ground with a concussive blast, then she fired her own volley of shots, then she lurched up and fired another barrage, one after the other, a step closer with every shot.

Thistle stood her ground and blocked each oncoming shot with her chains. She waited until Yang was right where she wanted her to be, and she ducked and rolled the rest of the way. It was her turn to be aggressive now. Her chains snapped around Yang's arms and she drew her into close quarters. One punch to the chest—BOOM!; another to the stomach—BOOM!; a kick to one leg—BOOM!; an uppercut in the jaw—BOOM! Yang could not escape, for every strike Thistle made with her concussive blasts, the chains around her arms prevented her from falling back.

"Thistle wait!" Ruby called out, all too late.

Yang's boot jammed into the ground, and she pulled back against the chains.

Thistle gasped. She had pulled against the chains, but Yang suddenly felt too heavy to pull back. She looked, her hair roared ablaze.

"Gotcha…"

Yang took hold of the chains, and she pulled.

It was like a great beast had taken over, and Thistle found herself helplessly flying towards her. No time to think or act. One moment she was firmly in control, the next she got a face full of alloy-composite knuckles topped with a shot Burn Dust in her face. Her body flailed around to the ground, and her chains slipped from Yang's arms.

Free to fight unrestrained, Yang racked another round. However, just before she could fire a shot, her arm was knocked away while a haze of rose petals burst in front of her. And there she was looking Ruby dead in the eyes, the barrel of Crescent Rose aimed right at her.

Trigger was pulled. Yang backrolled under the shot.

Without taking her eyes off her sister, Ruby reached down and took Thistle's hand and helped her up. She told her, "No more heroics. We fight her together."

Thistle glanced, and knew she was right and nodded. A snap of her wrists flung her knives back into hand.

Ruby faced the others and told them, "The rest of you, gather what you can and get out of here. Go!" She turned, and saw Yang hurl herself their way. She brought her scythe up for a quick defense, but Thistle was faster and whipped her knife into Yang's oncoming fist—a thunderous explosion rocked the air between them, and Yang was knocked backward yet again.

Yang's hand ripped into the ground until her momentum died completely. She looked up at locked eyes on the two. Her eyes were throwing sparks.

Thistle snapped her knife back into hand, and she and Ruby went in for the attack.

Yang charged in turn, and the three were on the track to clash.

Ruby stopped short, bent and allowed Thistle to leap over her, her knives came crashing down just like their first bout—a circular saw attack that had the added benefit of greater height and speed, too fast for Yang to react to sufficiently. Last ditch, she raised her gauntlets and blocked the knives, tanking the subsequent shockwave blasts their user unleashed through them—the blast shocked her, forced her guard down and broke her focus briefly—the next she looked, she saw Ruby crashing down at her with her scythe!

Her eyes widened. She made another last ditch escape and sidestepped while Crescent Rose lodged into the ground just an inch from her. She expected her sister to lurch up and kick, but what came was Thistle's knife coming out of eyeshot. No choice, she shot at the ground and launched herself into the air—now she had a better view of the two, Thistle was a ways off Ruby's right where she couldn't have seen her. It hit her then, feint and pressure, Ruby was no close-quarters fighter, and Thistle was limited to the range of her chains, together they covered each other's weaknesses. But she knew she had both, and while in mid-air she shot down a rain of fire shots. Break the two up and try to pick them off one by one.

She sensed the wall and flipped, planted her feet and shot her gauntlets back. She rocketed down like a fireball, shot her gauntlets into the ground and let out a fiery shockwave that divided the two further.

Now it was Yang's turn to fight back. She was between Thistle to her left and Ruby to her right. She shot at Thistle, and let her body be flung Ruby's way. Ruby saw the attack coming, and sidestepped out of the way. Yang landed in front of her, and her sister unleashed a barrage of attacks she could only dodge and duck under, but nothing she could use her scythe for. Thistle had to close the gap too, the longer Ruby fought Yang, the more vulnerable she'd become—once in range, she twirled her knives around and attacked. To her surprise, Yang anticipated her arrival and backflipped over her swing.

Her knives wrapped around Crescent Rose. Thistle did not dare use her semblance.

Opportunity arose. Yang fired at Thistle and her shot plowed into the shorter girl's chest. She was knocked back, and Crescent Rose was ripped from Ruby's hands!

Ruby let out a gasp, and started backing away from an even greater flurry of near-miss punches. She was able to avoid being hit, but only barely, and it was a matter of time before Yang tripped her up and dealt a devastating blow.

Thistle watched Ruby be put on her back foot. She unwrapped her chains from Ruby's weapon as fast as she could, but it was tedious work. "Come on…come on…!"

"You can't keep this up forever, Ruby!" Yang growled. Her attacks never let up.

Ruby almost had no room to respond, her mind focused solely on avoiding each and every one of her sisters strikes. She moved like a swift wind, but even she could feel the fatigue setting in, even more so than if she were on the offense. I just have to…one-two-three, now!

On her next punch, Yang was sure she landed a hit. However, a burst of rose petals was all she struck. She followed the flow of red and watched Ruby rematerialize beside Thistle.

Ruby helped her unfurl the last of the chain and took her weapon back. Thistle stood back up and took her side. She said to her, "We can't let her break us up. Come on. Just a little bit longer."

"Right." Thistle nodded, brought her knives to bear and answered, "Let's do this!"

Yang marched a few paces and stopped before them. The two stood between her and the Happy Huntresses, who were almost ready to leave. She couldn't allow them to escape! She grabbed a couple belts of Dust rounds and loaded them into Ember Celica, then she made one more charge! "RAAAAGH!"

Ruby and Thistle closed in kind. It was similar to the start of the fight: Ruby stopped short, and Thistle led the first strike—what changed was Thistle's angle of attack. She dropped and slid past Yang, she took her by surprise with a chain around her ankle, and tugged and brought her down. Ruby fired a shot—Yang blocked it with her gauntlet—then Thistle whipped her other chain down over her; Yang was forced to roll away as the attached knife struck and blew the ground apart, managed to sit up on a knee and fire some shots at Thistle while she anchored her down. But Ruby swooped in and put a stop to it with a swift sweep of her scythe—Yang just barely avoided it, letting her body drop below the blade and she sprung back up to her feet. She kicked the chain off her leg before Thistle could bring her back down, and she took advantage of Ruby's proximity and landed one-two-three blows into her. Back to Thistle, she fired another few rounds of shots—she missed all of them as Thistle sidestepped around her to Ruby's aid.

"Ruby! Thistle! We're ready! Get out of there!" the blue-haired woman called out. She stood in a truck along with the others.

"Better time than any…" Ruby groaned, helped up by Thistle. She turned and saw Yang coming in for another attack, but this time neither she or Thistle fought back.

Yang shot an arm forward, fired a shot, but all she hit was a haze of red and purple rose petals. She followed them all the way to the truck, where they rematerialized on the other end of the tarmac. No! She was not about to let them escape that easily! She jammed her arms down, launched into the air and brought a fist up for a final blow!

Then, like it had come out of nowhere, Thistle's knife came up and struck her in the chest. The following blast blew her back one last time. Yang flew back into the wall, and fell several meters down to the ground.

In a yellow haze, her Aura broke.

Now was their chance. Thistle took Ruby's hand and started running—she'd been stopped though, when she felt Ruby not run along with her. She saw her face, that seemed rife with all manner of conflicting emotions, and felt her hand tighten around hers the longer she stood looking back at Yang.

Then the airship came around, its spotlight cracked on and shone down over them.

"Ruby!" She called her. She pulled against her arm, but couldn't grab her attention. She went around and came in front, and forced Ruby's eyes to hers. Softly, she told her, "Ruby, it's time to go."

Ruby finally heard her. With a nod, she took Thistle behind the back and used her semblance to flash into the truck with the rest of the group. She said, "Now May!"

Just before the spotlight could catch them, the truck disappeared into a haze of wrapped color, until that disappeared too, and all that was left were a pair of tire tracks that would soon be engulfed by the blizzard.


Dreary lilac eyes cracked open, and her ears were invaded by the shard sound of whistling engines and the howl of air splitting against a massive object. Eventually they became silent, and when she came to, Yang found she was laid on the floor of the airship, looking up face to face with the Atlas soldiers whom she'd been sent to back up.

The looks on their faces were about the same as hers, but for her it felt much worse. She knew she failed. They knew it too.

She sat up, looked for a handle to climb up and did so with the armrest of the seating. She looked around at the men and women staring at her. Her own face looked like she was ready to burst into flames. "How long was I out?"

"Half an hour," one of them said, "give or take."

"We saw you fight them," another came out saying, "Did more than any of us could."

"Especially against that Tsvetok girl," one of the women in the group started, "we all thought it was bombs she was throwing—but it was all her and that semblance of hers: Burst."

"Wish we were able to fight with you," went one more, "We might have even had them."

She didn't answer them. What point was there? It was all a forgone conclusion, and none of them would be facing the consequences. She took her seat, gripped her mechanical fingers around her spasmous remaining hand, and looked down at the floor with eyes teetering between red and purple.

It was only a few minutes more of a journey until the airship reached Atlas. Fleets of warships hovered in the sky around the kingdom, ranging from the cruisers who saw action during the Fall of Beacon to the new dreadnaughts that hung like enormous stagnant clouds. They and the landmass of the floating kingdom created a looming shadow over the city of Mantle, darkness that reached to the very brim of the city.

The airship panned up, and soared for the shimmering tower of Atlas Academy.

As soon as the airship landed, the groups of response units filed out and reported to their commanding officers. Yang was the last to exit, but her destination was much higher than any of theirs.

Before she went on her way, Yang stopped and turned back, and looked out to the frozen tundra beyond the city limits. Her eyes still flashed red and purple. She had her prosthetic hand closed tightly into a fist, with such incredible pressure the artificial muscles twitched and strained. Her lips curled into a thin slit, while a single tear welled up in her eye.

Then a long, warm breath escaped her, and she turned again for the academy.


She turned in her damaged armor and got into uniform, one specially designated for Atlesian Specialists, and hers then she made the journey to the office of General Ironwood.

Heavy heeled boots cracked down the long halls, as did the breath from her lungs hiss like fire from a furnace. The cadets and soldiers who existed did well to step out of the way of her as she approached and walked past them. Beads of sweat dripped down their faces—not just from fear, but also from the heat that flared off her.

The only ones who showed no fear on her approach were the two Atlesian Praetorians that stood at the doors to Ironwood's office. They were striking in appearance, clad in black plate armor and wore masks that gleamed with a red sheen. She shuddered as she stopped before them. She had never seen one fight in combat herself, only read that they were trained to fight even the best Huntsmen and Huntresses, and even Grimm on their own. They weren't Ace Ops, certainly not Huntsmen and Huntresses themselves, but they were rumored to be capable of killing a Huntsman with their bare hands.

The Praetorians confirmed her arrival through the encrypted chatter between themselves, then the door opened, and General Ironwood looked up and met her eyes from his desk.

No time to waste. Yang entered and the doors closed behind her. As she walked the final distance to his desk, it felt like she had been walking hundreds of miles to a looming and ruinous end. Her heart felt as though it had been beating a thousand beats a minute. As she made the last few steps before his desk, she just hoped her face did not look as anxious as she felt. Curiously, she noticed that Winter had been present, and she wondered what for.

Ironwood stood and gestured to a chair beside her. Once they were seated, he spoke, and his tone carried with the usual stern evenness of a commanding officer, however, for this matter, a bit more grave: "I have seen the reports from your latest mission. It is unfortunate that the Happy Huntresses escaped. I thought that you would be able to dispatch and subdue them without issue."

"I could've taken them down," Yang spat. Her eyes were not aligned with his. "But…"

Ironwood said nothing. Only raised his brow.

"...My sister was with them." There it was. Bandaid torn off. Her fists balled up, a light hiss came out from her prosthesis. "I laid out the rest of them easy, they weren't even on the scale for things I've fought. But she and that other girl complicated things."

"Facing other Huntsmen and Huntresses is what you have spent the last five years training to handle," Ironwood fired back, his voice slightly raised.

She heard his words. They landed like an avalanche of rocks.

"However…" At that, his voice softened, "the news about your sister does change things. It confirms the reports we have seen of a red caped Huntress heading raids across Remnant in the past few years—and the fact that she bested you in combat is troubling."

"We trained together since she could throw a punch," Yang responded. "She knows how I fight, but that means I know how she fights too. It was that other girl that was with her."

"Thistle Tsvetok." The general said it with such clarity that it was clear he knew about the girl Yang spoke of. "Yes, the response teams singled her out as another prime suspect in the raid."

Yang nodded. "She covered Ruby's weaknesses and made herself a difficult target to hit—I couldn't make a direct attack without getting tangled up in those chains of hers or blasted by her semblance."

This seemed to draw some intrigue from Ironwood's brow. "You've confirmed what Tsvetok's semblance is?"

"Burst," she answered. "She creates concussive blasts through herself and objects she holds—caught me off guard a few times, but countering isn't easy."

"That answers a number of questions about the incident in Vinestone," he commented, and made some notes on a screen beside him. "A walking time bomb that can walk away unharmed. That makes her an extremely dangerous asset in the hands of the Happy Huntresses."

"I've seen how she fights," she added, her tone more eager. "Next time I see her, she won't be a problem. I can promise you that."

"That's what I wanted to hear," he told her, the slightest tinge of a smile perked at his cheek. "What matters above all else is that our response teams were rescued and the Happy Huntresses were driven out with a fraction of what they stole."

For a moment, Yang felt a wave of relief. But there was still the look in the general's eye that told her they were not quite done yet.

"However," he finally said, adding to their conversation, "This matter does bring me to another issue I wanted to bring up."

Yang felt her heart skip a beat. "Sir?"

Ironwood stood, pressed a button off to the side and brought up a few dozen holo-screens that displayed footage of past Happy Huntress raids, as well as White Fang attacks—some were simple smash and grabs, others were violent and fiery.

"There has been a growing number of insurgent actions all throughout Remnant since Beacon Academy was attacked. Those of the White Fang have increased their efforts and have become fully militant, and have made Menagerie into a stronghold that we have no way into, and now coordinate attacks that threaten the peace and stability we have been fighting for in that time. The Happy Huntresses started in Mantle, but now they are growing in number and capability as well.

"Atlas has had to make due with enlisting more and more men and women who can help fight the threat since the Council of Kingdoms banned Atlesian military robotics. A considerable setback that I have spent years fighting to repeal, but without success. In that time, I've had to plan other means of keeping the peace: expanding the kingdom's navy, nationalizing the SDC, and converting our sister cities such as Argus into military strongholds.

"And yet, the threat keeps growing," he swiped his hand across the screens, and a new set of feeds were brought about, and showed similar imagery to those before, however, these ones featured combatants with unique weapons and skills—Huntsmen and Huntresses. He continued, "Our forces are again faced with a steep challenge: one Huntsman can outmatch our best Atlesian ground units ten to one—and with enough of them in force, even our Specialists such as you face defeat."

A pause followed. Yang had leaned back in her seat, sitting in silence as she tried to take it all in.

"That is…" he started again, "until now." He gestured to Winter, who stepped forward.

Winter spoke: "Following the attack on Beacon, General Ironwood and his closest allies recovered technologies and research data related to a project which Professor Ozpin kept hidden—this project required absolute secrecy, because the forces which were at play meant the difference between order and chaos around the world."

She pressed a button, and the feeds all gave way to a handful of playbacks dating to the night of Beacon's demise—Yang's pupils dilated, and she felt her breath stiffen. Winter continued: "The forces at play…are the Maidens. No doubt you have heard the stories about them, fairy tales told when you were being put to sleep—beings of exceptional power the likes of which no one could even comprehend.

"This was, however, a clever ruse." She stopped for a moment.

"Wait, wait, wait…" Yang had only one chance to collect her thoughts. She asked, "What are you saying? The Maiden's are real?" She received no immediate answer yet, only the looks on the General and Winter's faces that were the kind of soft glare that said to see for herself. Her eyes flicked between the feeds: she saw Ozpin, Jaune and Pyrrha running to this strange machine, and the latter of the three entering into one of the two pods, the first of which another young woman had been laying inside. Then the machine started up, and Pyrrha and the other girls' chambers began to glow—Pyrrha looked like she was enduring a great deal of pain. Then an arrow came out from beyond the camera's view and struck the girl's pod, and the machine ceased functioning, and the next moment Jaune was blasted back by a fireball. Ozpin put himself between Jaune and Pyrrha and the attacker, who was revealed to be Cinder, and she was using powers unlike anything she had ever seen!

"When the Fall Maiden was critically injured by the assailant known as Cinder Fall," Ironwood said, "Ozpin knew that the Maiden's powers could very well fall into the wrong hands. He brought me into the fold so that I might help that not to happen. The machine you see was meant to transfer the Fall Maiden's powers to Pyrrha Nikos. However, the initial transfer was not successful. The Fall Maiden was killed before the process could be completed. Fortunately, the assailant was brought down by Jaune Arc and Pyrrha Nikos before the usurper could reach her full potential."

"Unfortunately," Winter added, "now Ms. Nikos and her team are nowhere to be found. They've been missing ever since."

Ironwood nodded, and continued, "You see, Ms. Xiao Long, the Maiden's powers are as rigid as they are unpredictable: A given Maiden must have a strong bond with the next host to their powers, and must be a young woman—the first part is important, because it also means anyone who left an impact on the a Maiden's memory may stand to adopt her powers. If there is no one who the Maiden can transfer her powers to that she trusts, or if the attacker is the last thing the Maiden remembers, those powers either go to someone else anywhere in the world or are stolen by the very person who slain them. We were lucky when Mr. Arc and Ms. Nikos succeeded that night at Beacon, but the problem still remains.

"One year ago, the Winter Maiden passed away. We were able to locate and secure her in this facility, far from the reach of those who would want to do the same with her powers. Ms. Schnee was our prime candidate to cultivate a close relationship with her, and thereby be the next host to the Winter Maiden's powers. The bond was successful, and she is now the current Winter Maiden. Another victory, but not one we can replicate so long as the Summer Maiden remains unaccounted for.

"Project Maidenfall is our answer to this problem. Thanks to the efforts of our best scientists, we will soon be able to take both the problems of global stability and the issue of the Maiden's power and deal with them in a single stroke." Finally, he finished.

Again, a lot to take in and not a lot of time to process it. She was glad that the scenes of Beacon swiped away, but more than ever her mind raced with all sorts of new questions. So many they came crashing down like an endless earthquake. But the most glaring one came out first, "You…want me to become a Maiden?"

"If you are willing to take the opportunity." Then he stood, and crossed his arms behind his back. Yang stood too, at attention. He told her, "Naturally this is a highly confidential matter and you may not speak to anyone other than myself and Ms. Schnee about it. I am also placing you on leave for the remainder of the week so that you will have time to think it over. Dismissed."

No more words needed to be shared at that point. Yang nodded and turned once more to leave, and disappeared behind the great double doors.

It was a short walk back to her quarters. She came through the door as normal. When she shut it, her back was pressed to it. She felt a cold rush shoot through her. A long, trembling breath escaped her that she hadn't realized she had been holding. She pressed herself away from the door with a bearing to her chair, but her steps were uneven and her legs felt weak all of a sudden.

She collapsed into the chair while the feeling of dread set in. She clenched her fist, and her jaw stiffened. So much to think about. She didn't want to think. She wanted to act! There was so much that was going on and not enough time to deal with any of it. And now she was on leave. Off duty, beached, put aside, and with not one single thing to keep her singular focus on. Beacon—Ruby—Maidens—Happy Huntresses—Failure—White Fang—Huntress—Atlas—Peace—War—Terror—Order—Team—Division…

Her body fell forward. She propped her head in her palm. The hiss from her clenched prosthetic hand was like a slithering snake weaving its way through the nooks of her mind. It made her head throb. Failure…failure…failure…

She unclenched her fist, shaking her head as she took a deep breath. They're just thoughts, she told herself. Things to power through, she told herself.

She leaned back in her chair, turned and looked around her room: a bed she never made, with the sheets strewn over the floor; a worktable with a bunch of placed tools strewn over the top beside two old prosthetic arms; medals in plaques on the walls from various missions she had been on, but one stood out from the rest, a silver star, and on a thin golden plate beneath it read: FOR DISTINGUISHED GALLANTRY IN ACTION, OPERATION DESERT SCHISM.

Desert Schism. More like a roaring cluster. She remembered her arrival to the sandy wastes of Vacuo. It was the first real expansion of Atlas' presence in the world at large, meant to demonstrate the army's rapid response capabilities and flush out the White Fang presence in the kingdom. She had been in her first month as an official Specialist then, and her task was no different than what she had been sent in for earlier that morning: go in, engage the insurgents, secure the perimeter. But no operation ever goes as planned; the insurgents outnumbered Atlas' forces three to one, and backup was a day away—twenty-four hours that meant the city would be further clenched in the White Fang's grasp. She knew what happened, but her memory of the fighting she did was a blur of blood red; by the break of morning, she had accomplished what she was sent to do.

Where was that version of her last night? No…she had been, she was ready to take the Happy Huntresses all by herself and win, just like back in Vacuo, and in every mission she'd been sent on since then. She was ready to fight a bloody one-woman war and win.

That is…until Ruby came into play. A blind spot she hoped never to have to turn and face the moment the rumors started circulating. Now it came full circle, and it knocked her off center.

Her gaze shifted to another object in her room, a picture frame sat atop her bedside table with a photograph of herself and her team. She retrieved it and held it firmly by the frame. Scribbled in the top left corner in red ink read New Friends, and there stood Ruby, Weiss, herself, and Blake.

At first, her gaze fell onto Weiss, who fell off the radar a long time ago as far as she was concerned—she wondered what she had been doing all this time, but never had much cause to get in contact with her. At Blake though, her eyes softened, and her breath deepened into warm and heavy heaves, and her nerves began to fire off and make her head feel fuzzy—she ran her thumb along the black strands of Blake's hair, and a tear fell upon the glass cover.

She closed her eyes to reign in her tears. When she opened again, her sights were set on Ruby, and all she felt then was a deep well of heat in her stomach and chest, her eyes narrowed into slits while her irises glowed a faint red, and a soft ringing shot through her ears. Ruby—Huntress—Team—Order—Failure…

Crack!

She blinked again. Magenta eyes looked down at broken glass, starting from her thumbs: one side covered in long jagged spines over Ruby, and the other a shattered web covering Blake. Her eyes flickered in color once more, and became a glowing red that reflected in the glass, her iris like a bright red dot over Ruby's face.