Content warning for goatboy being himself.

Weiss returned with Penny in tow just as the Achieve Men finished playing their last song. Ruby spotted them first, leaping out of her seat and accidentally stepping on Jaune's foot in her haste to tackle Penny in a hug. And, fine. It had been worth coming out to Amity and enduring the dismal music for this alone.

She settled back into her seat as Ruby unceremoniously shooed Sun and Neptune further down the row to squeeze Penny in. While they were shifting to find more comfortable positions, General Ironwood stepped up to speak. There would be four speeches this afternoon—one for each headmaster. Something to do with unity, though she privately thought it was mostly uniting the audience in boredom. It was the art exhibitions people were really here to see.

The Vytal Festival was a celebration of the end of an era that had stifled creativity, after all. So, each kingdom could take this opportunity to show off their best performers, while the festival itself did its best to outshine all previous years in an explosion of color. But first, they had to go through the usual pomp and circumstance. Something Ironwood seemed rather uncomfortable with, judging by the way he cleared his throat and adjusted his tie.

"Welcome," he said. "I'd like to thank you all for coming, and a special thank you to Headmaster Ozpin for hosting all of us here at Beacon." He inclined his head to Beacon's headmaster, who stood a few steps behind him, shoulder to shoulder with Lionheart and Theodore.

"Hard to believe it's been seventy-five years, isn't it?" A ripple of amusement ran through the crowd. "Most of us here never took part in the Great War. It was before my time, too. The day is coming when we'll gather in this arena, and not a single one of us will remember that dark time in our history."

Behind him, Ozpin coughed quietly into his fist.

"I know we're all here to celebrate," Ironwood continued, "and I don't want to downplay that. On the contrary. Today marks the anniversary of the day all four kingdoms came together as one to end an era of repression and cruelty the likes of which Remnant hasn't seen before or since. We should celebrate that achievement, and I think an important part of that is making sure we don't take it for granted."

Scattered applause started up as Ironwood paused for breath. He raised a hand, the holoscreen projecting his face picking up on his small smile. "We live in a time of unprecedented peace, equality, and freedom, but we must never become complacent. Our parents and grandparents fought hard for a united Remnant, and now it is our responsibility to preserve it. Compromise isn't easy. Sometimes we have to make sacrifices and accept that we can't always get everything we want. But we stand here today to remember that we're all in this together, because we've seen what comes from a world divided. We know that our unity is our strength."

The ringing silence left in his wake hung there a beat too long. Ironwood cleared his throat and said, a bit lamely, "Well. That's all I have." He extended the microphone towards Lionheart.

Ruby bounced up and down in her seat. "I love the Vytal Festival! It's like a whole week about how much better it is when we help each other!"

Yang leaned over to ruffle her hair. Weiss caught a brief glimpse of Blake's face, and her strangely sour expression. When she noticed she'd been spotted, she mouthed, later, and returned her attention to the arena.

Weiss frowned. She wasn't sure what could have bothered Blake that much—maybe she was put off by how he'd glossed over the fact that his ancestors hadn't exactly been on the right side of history.

Lionheart took the mic before she had much chance to dwell on it... and promptly started off on a long, rambling speech about what sounded like every instance of inter-kingdom unity over the past seventy-five years he could think of. Maybe it should have been gratifying to hear that there were apparently many examples, but it was so dull Weiss tuned out after less than a minute.

The buzz of a scroll jolted her out of her stupor. Blake pulled it out of her pocket, glanced at the screen, and frowned. "Weiss? Did you lose your scroll?"

"No." She patted her pockets to confirm that it was there. Patted them again, as blood drained from her face. "Wait, what?"

"It's fine," Blake said hurriedly, and leaned over Yang to show her the text. It was flagged with a red icon indicating it had been sent from her lock screen.

— Hello. I think I found your teammate's scroll. Can you come get it? I'm by shuttle port B.

"I had it with me the whole time!" Weiss blurted. "How on Remnant—I didn't even take it out of my pocket!"

Blake's scroll buzzed again.

— Are you coming? I have to get on a shuttle to Vale in a few minutes.

"I can go get it!" Ruby said, already halfway to her feet. "I'll be quick, and I kinda want to get away from this speech for a minute."

"Hang on." Weiss frowned. "Now that I think about it, I might know when I lost it. This human with an eye patch bumped into me on the way back here, and he just... he had this bizarre look on his face. Like he was angry with me, even though he was the one who didn't watch where he was going."

Blake's ears flattened. "I might just be paranoid, but that sounds like he might have stolen it."

"Let's all go, then," suggested Yang. "Just in case."

"Ugh, this is the last thing I wanted to do today."

Weiss approached the outer ring of Amity dreading the telltale frantic excitement of someone who liked her music far too much—or perhaps someone simply enamored with her image, the perfect human daughter who stood behind Father at galas. It didn't happen often, mostly because Weiss couldn't be as approachable as Pyrrha if she tried (which she rarely did), but being in the public eye meant that sometimes people fixated on her anyway. She couldn't think of any other reason to steal her scroll, since it wasn't much use to anyone without her passcode.

She did not find an overeager stranger waiting for her by the shuttle docks. She did not, in fact, find anyone at all. The outer ring was deserted. There were no airships coming or going, just rows and rose of them waiting empty for the ceremonies to end. Not even a stray security guard or janitor anywhere in sight.

"Maybe he's at one of the other shuttle ports?" Ruby suggested.

"The message said B," Yang pointed out. She put her hands on her hips and called, "Hello? Finders keepers? Are you gonna give Weiss her scroll back or what?"

Weiss bristled. "Did he just leave? I don't even care if he meant to steal it or found it on the ground, at this point this is definitely some sort of theft—Blake?"

Blake stood stiffly with her ears pinned back, her whole body radiating discomfort. On hearing her name, she flinched and wrapped her arms around her middle. "We should go back," she said. "He's not here."

"I'd love to, but..." Weiss hesitated. "I do need my scroll." She could easily buy another one, but if she did she was sure she'd get another call from Father wondering why. He'd understand if it was stolen, right? It wasn't her fault she'd been pickpocketed—except that she'd noticed the man seemed off, hadn't she? If she'd checked for her scroll right then she wouldn't be in this situation at all.

That settled it. She balled her hands into fists and marched out into the graveyard of abandoned shuttles, only dimly aware of her team hurrying to follow her. There was no reason he'd be here, really, any sensible person making a good-faith effort to return a scroll would stand where they could see him, but she wasn't sure what else to do."

"Weiss, look around. The shuttles aren't running right now. I don't know who took it, but we're not going to find it like this."

"Watch me." Weiss took a deep breath, the hairs on the nape of her neck prickling as she picked up a stranger's scent. It wasn't familiar at all—but, then again, she'd only bumped into the man once, and that in the middle of a crowd. She hadn't been able to tell what he smelled like. "He's back there," she said, pointing to a shuttle a few places down. Then, louder, "You can stop hiding, now."

A lone figure stepped out from behind the shuttle—and instantly Weiss was nearly bowled over by the sharp, acid tang of sweat and adrenaline. She turned her head, alarmed, and found Blake pale and shaking.

"Weiss," she hissed under her breath. "You need to run. Now."

"What?" Then she looked back at the stranger. He was definitely the same man who'd bumped into her earlier, but she'd been very wrong about one key detail. His hat had been hiding a set of horns. The eye patch was gone, too, replaced by a Grimm's mask.

"How did you do that?" he demanded. His hand came down to rest on the hilt of a sword sheathed at his hip.

Weiss swallowed down a surge of panic. "Where else would you have been hiding?" she said dismissively. "It's not my fault you were stupid enough to answer."

His only answer to that was a contemptuous sneer. "Charming," he drawled. "Tell me, my love. Was company like this really worth betraying everything you ever stood for?"

Never in her life had she heard anyone say the word love like that, so oily it made her skin crawl. She was suddenly very aware that she didn't have Myrtenaster, and couldn't call her locker—he still had her scroll with him.

"Weiss," Blake whispered. "Please!"

"I'm not leaving you here," she snapped, indignant. Because none of them were armed, either... though Ruby's hand had slipped into her skirt pocket.

The man twisted the sword, pulling a trigger on the sheath and making all four of them flinch. Ruby was unhurt—but her pocket was torn open and her scroll was shattered.

Blake stepped in front of them, her hands trembling at her sides. "What are you doing here, Adam? Where's Ilia?"

"If you want to see her," he said, "you can come and answer for what you've done. He jerked his chin at Ruby. "Maybe then I'll let the little girl go."

"Weiss?" said Ruby. "Can you find her?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Yes, but—"

"Go find her." Ruby bit her lip. "I'll get help."

"One step," Adam snarled, "and I'll shoot—"

Ruby disappeared into a burst of rose petals. He swore and fired the gun in his sheath, but it was no use—she was already gone, hurtling towards the inside of the stadium. Weiss hesitated, and Blake gave her a hard shove.

"Go!" she shouted. "We have to stop Ilia too!"

He was already charging. Yang met him barehanded, ducking and weaving, trying to cover Blake long enough for her to call their weapons. Weiss hated to leave, but there was no way this was what he'd come here for—if the White Fang were in Amity Coliseum, they had to be up to something else. Something big. And there were a lot of people in that stadium.

So Weiss turned on her heel and ran, heading first in the direction Ruby had gone—but then a gust of wind picked up, drawing her attention to the open sky on her left. She smelled... something. Definitely a person, but it was much too faint to pick up more than that. But there was nothing down there except for the mechanisms that controlled the arena... and the flight system keeping Amity afloat. Swearing viciously under her breath, Weiss sprinted to the edge of the coliseum and threw herself into empty space.

For an instant, Weiss was perfectly calm. Wind screamed past her, clawing at her with icy fingers as she plummeted. It reminded her of clinging to the back of a Nevermore during initiation. Of leaning against airship windows and standing on rooftops, all the times she stood at the edge of a precipice and longed to step off. Not to die, but to fall. To feel feather-light and untethered, looking down at a world of ants and toy buildings, to spread her arms wide and—

A cramp seized her. It was so bad she nearly fumbled her first glyph, but she managed to twist her fingers and create an angled ramp under her feet. She slid sideways like that, bouncing from platform to platform. There was another ring of pavement underneath the main one, much smaller, designed only for single shuttles bringing maintenance crews into the heart of the machine holding Amity up.

The closer she got, the more sure she was. The smell was coming from there, and it was definitely Ilia. So Weiss landed at a run, all her terror returning with a vengeance the instant her feet touched solid ground. She gritted her teeth and charged through a massive opening, into a wide-open room littered with tools and spare parts. The door to the inside was propped open by the boot of an unconscious guard.

Inside, she was almost overwhelmed by the scent. Ilia had to be close. She ran down a hallway, turned a corner, and stopped dead. Her skin prickled. Her head turned to stare into a patch of shadows.

"Hello, Ilia."

There was a burst of searingly bright yellow as Ilia stumbled backwards, almost tripping over her own feet as she reeled. "What the hell?!" she blurted, raising her whip in front of her. In her off-hand, hidden behind her back, was a large briefcase.

The tips of Weiss' fingers started to tingle as her heart raced. "That's a bomb, isn't it." She inhaled, and grimaced at the faint scent of burn Dust. "You're going to break the engines keeping us in the sky."

Ilia's eyes narrowed. "You're not even armed. Do you really think you can stop me?"

"I don't know." Weiss knelt down and slammed an open palm on the floor. "Let's find out."

Come on, she snarled at herself, as a glowing circle formed in front of her. If you're really a Schnee, then do it!

Winter had always told her to keep a cool head, and focus on the lessons she'd learned from her fallen foes. A rational approach for the rational daughter—well, Weiss was done listening to that. She snarled and clenched her open hand into a fist, imagining grabbing that stupid knight by the scruff of its gorget and dragging it into the world kicking and screaming.

The glyph flickered once, and went dead.

Ilia had scuttled backwards when the glyph appeared—but her wariness soon evaporated. "Is that it?" she said, incredulous. "That was your big plan?"

Weiss lunged at her.

The whip caught her across the forearm, sending a bolt of electricity flaring over her aura. She staggered. Ilia pressed her, driving her backwards with great looping arcs. It would have been annoying to get past that reach in such a tight hallway even with Myrtenaster—without it, she had only her barrier glyphs and her own two fists. Yang could make that work—please, let her make that work—but Weiss didn't have her skill in hand-to-hand.

She was going to lose. All she wanted was one hit before she went down or turned and ran. Something, anything to wipe that smirk off Ilia's face.

The whip came careening towards her face. Weiss didn't even try to dodge it—she thrust her hand forward and grabbed it, her jaw clenching as she forced her aura into the weapon and found what she was looking for.

Dust.

Her free hand twisted, and the hallway flashed with golden light. Ilia's shocked expression half-froze on her face, her eyelids dipping in what looked like a slow, languid blink.

Weiss tried to use the haste glyph to steal the whip, but it was Ilia's biggest advantage and she knew it. Her grip was too tight to break without risking getting caught in a grapple. So, Weiss hit her. Over and over, wherever she could reach, flailing both arms as gracefully as a feral alley cat. When the glyph shattered Ilia was on the back foot, breathing hard, and completely unharmed.

Her next attack broke Weiss' aura and tossed her into a wall. She landed in a heap with the wind knocked out of her, choking for breath.

"Stay down," Ilia ordered. "What are you even trying to do? You could've just left, Schnee. I didn't have time to chase you. I still don't."

Weiss pushed herself to her feet. "I'd have thought you'd love the chance to kill me."

"Maybe, if I weren't busy," snapped Ilia. "Do you want me to kill you?"

"No."

"Then why didn't you just leave?" Ilia flicked her whip for emphasis. Dull reds and sickly yellows crawled over her skin.

"Because I hate you." Weiss took a step forward, raising her fists again. Ilia slashed out, cutting a long slash across the forearm she raised to block.

Ilia's lip curled. "There it is. A lot of people hate me for being born—you're not special, Schnee."

"No." Weiss clenched her fists, and a drop of blood hit the floor at her feet. "I hate you because it's your fault. All of you—" She gestured at the mask on her face. "You ruined my life."

Ilia slammed her against the wall, pinning her with one arm. "Cute," she said. "I never knew I blew up your parents and then laughed at you. But I'm sure it was really hard living in the lap of luxury on the backs of all those miners dying in the dark. What did the big bad White Fang do to you, huh? Did we make daddy miss one of your recitals?"

"You made him hate me," Weiss snarled, and spat in her face.

There was a jumble of motion she couldn't track, that ended with her head slamming into the opposite wall. She landed crumpled against it, her ears ringing, staring up at Ilia as she wiped her cheek. The smirk was gone.

"Yeah," she said. "Because everything's our fault, isn't it? How old was I when I did that, huh?"

A tremor ran through Weiss. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Ilia scoffed. "So, what, I used my evil faunus powers to corrupt your dad while I was still in diapers? Grow up, Schnee."

There was a harsh, bitter sound. It took Weiss several seconds to realize that she was laughing. Ilia recoiled from her, and that only made her laugh harder. "It sounds..." she gasped, as she fought for breath. "It sounds so stupid when you say it like that."

The point of Ilia's whip dipped slightly as she stood there, nonplussed.

"Blake told me a bit about you," Weiss said. "Not much, but she said you grew up pretending to be human. You've hated yourself for a long time, haven't you?"

"Shut up."

"I understand why you're so angry. It's the only thing that makes the shame go away."

"Shut up!" Ilia leveled the whip at her. "You don't understand anything."

Weiss took a shaky breath, and glanced at the bomb that leaned against the wall opposite her. "How do you think I keep finding you?" she asked.

"What?"

"The camouflage is good. I can't see you at all when you hide in the dark like that. It doesn't mask your smell, though."

Ilia scowled. "Right, because we all stink. I've definitely never heard that one before."

Weiss rolled her eyes. "You have burn Dust in the bomb. That jacket isn't actually real leather, and for some reason you decided it was important to put on deodorant before blowing up an international monument. I can keep going, if you want."

A trembling hand reached up to take off the mask. Weiss nearly flinched at the sight of Ilia's face, after all this time—her eyes were very wide, and a pale grey that reminded her a little of Ruby's. "You're serious," she said, after a long moment. "You're actually—?"

Weiss snorted. "Well, Blake wouldn't put up with anyone who talked to her like I used to without a very good reason."

"But... what? What? Why would you tell me that?"

She looked up into the face of someone she'd tried very hard to hate, feeling very tired. "Because you were right. Where I am now... isn't your fault. You were only a baby when it started." She pointed up at the ceiling, and the arena far above. "Just like where you are now isn't their fault."

Ilia bristled. "Maybe you're lying," she said, "and maybe you're not. But either way, those people all contribute to the system that took my parents from me. They're out there making speeches, right now, about how wonderful it is. About how good and right it was for all four kingdoms to unite, never mind that the only thing they ever really agreed on was trying to beat down and kill us."

"But what does this accomplish? You bring down Amity Coliseum, and all four kingdoms are going to declare war. You'll only make things harder for yourself."

Ilia picked up the bomb. "It'll make them listen."

"You mean it'll make them hurt."

Her jaw clenched. "If you say one word about forgiveness," Ilia spat, "I will hit you."

Weiss scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. I have a whole list of grudges I will happily take to my grave. I'm not trying to tell you to stop being angry." She thought of Yang, and smiled. "I'm telling you to use it to stand up for what you believe in."

She held out a hand, palm-up, for the bomb. "I'm asking you... please. Don't let it use you."

Ilia stared at her for a moment. Her eyes flashed blue, then yellow, then blood red. "Thank you," she said, and picked up the bomb. Then she pressed Weiss to the wall by her throat until the world blurred away.