Note: So... didn't we say we weren't going to write anymore?

We said that. We meant it, too. We had no interest in continuing LUBYP at all when we finished. It was a huge project to commit ourselves to, and we didn't think we'd have the mental energy to continue it. However, after a year-long break (including a six-month period where we wrote very little fanfiction at all), we decided to get back onto the saddle for three reasons. One: we had some cool ideas for a Volume 2/3 rewrite that we were annoyed no one was going to get to see, including an entire tournament arc that we worked super hard on. We figured that energy might as well be put out into the world. Two: Ice Queendom. The idea of a new RWBY show got us interested again in the fandom since the show has been on hiatus for so long, especially the potential of it being super dark and fucked up. That's our gimmick! They can't do a dark RWBY AU better than us, so we have to remind them who the real monsters are, lol. But third, and the main reason... we just need something to motivate us again. We have been kind of depressed the past year. There has just been a lot of hostile shit we've had to deal with in the world in general, and we always remember how great it felt that we could share our writing with people, which we haven't been able to do in a while. And, on a personal note, LUBYP helped us get through some pretty challenging times in our lives. Whenever real-life got to be too much, we could always throw ourselves into the world of Remnant and get caught up in our own creativity. It's hard to overstate how helpful that was to us. The central theme of LUBYP has always been, to us at least, rebellion in the face of overwhelming odds. Team RWBY's "Go Fuck Yourself" is a battle cry that says no matter what the world throws at you, you have to keep fighting back and stand defiant. That's what dancing in the flames means to us-showing strength and confidence and pride even when the world is burning, to keep fighting no matter what happens. Even as Team RWBY will face new challenges in this story, we hope to carry that credo forward, and we hope we can maybe provide some comfort or inspiration or whatever to anyone reading this who feels the same way we do.

So, yeah... we're writing more. And it's gonna be fucking wild. Thank you for reading. Enjoy.

Central Vale Airstation.

7:03 A.M.

It was freezing.

Ruby pulled up her scarf to cover her nose. Her gloved hand froze around the metal handle of her suitcase. Her teammates stood by her side, each stoic within their misery. It was snowing, like it should have been. The sky was a dull gray, so thoroughly matted with clouds that the horizon and the ground blended into an inseparable fog. Her father, ever-loving as he was, dropped them off half an hour ago. She remembered when he put her on the airship to Beacon for the first time. There weren't any tears or well wishes. There was just bitterness behind his eyes. On this day, when he hugged her and Yang goodbye, he still wasn't happy, but there was something stronger there. He spoke to her bluntly.

"Take care of each other," he said. Somehow, he knew they would. She wished she had that confidence.

It was maybe to be expected that Atlas would leave them alone on an empty airstrip in the frigid morning. What better way to establish their worthlessness than to leave them stranded and sniffling out in the cold? On the other hand, Ruby thought, wasn't the government supposed to make the trains run on time? She was already starting to feel the paranoia, the creeping doubt that every misfortune was perfectly planned against them. Fighting against Ozpin had made her cynical, but she had to remember her mission. She was Ruby Rose. She could think her way out of anything. If this delayed flight was a plot against her, she would account for that and act accordingly. Just like accounted for everything.

Don't talk. That was rule one. Don't talk aloud about their plans. There were spies everywhere in Atlas. Cameras. Microphones. The simple sanctuaries they had in their dorm at Beacon likely wouldn't exist, and tampering would be out of the question. Communicate through written words. Unsent texts. Be quiet and let them suspect nothing.

Rule two: Get help. Talk to JNPR and CFVY. Ruby sent them preliminary texts the night before. They would find a time to meet, likely during lunch. The loud noises of the cafeteria would make it difficult to track their speech. She didn't know how many of them would go along with her ideas. Hell, she didn't know what her ideas were yet. Would she tell them about Ozpin and her mother, about the Anti-Fable and Humanity's past, about what they were planning to do? Should she leave them in the dark, not just for her safety but for theirs as well? She and her team decided she would give them a chance to decide how involved they would be, but they had to be careful. More allies meant more room for failure… or deception.

Rule three: Play nice. Ruby thought about that rule as she saw the shadow of the Atlas airship fly into view. She was entering a Kingdom where everyone wanted to kill her. The best thing she could do was be polite. Be charitable. There were other students at Atlas, and even if the brainwashing had gotten to them, she would play nice. She would be the perfect hero everyone expected her to be, and no one would suspect a thing. They would have to study harder as well. Yang was able to float by on mediocre grades last semester. No more. They were cranking their education up a notch. Her teammates said they didn't mind, and that still surprised her. Team RWBY spending more time together should have been a recipe for disaster, but they knew the stakes. They wouldn't destroy each other that easily.

The airship approached and touched down not twenty yards in front of them. The winds from its engines whipped up their coats and the surrounding snow into a flurry. Ruby held her scarf close to her face and squinted through the wind to study the ship. It was smaller than she thought it would be. Unlike at Beacon, Atlas sent a ship just for them, no other students required. It was a gesture of gratitude—at least according to the email she received about it last night. They wanted to personally escort Team RWBY to their new school. Hah. Yes, of course. It totally had nothing to do with keeping a dozen guards trained on them at all times. It was instead just like a limousine, but with soldiers.

Ruby led her teammates as they slowly approached the airship. The side door opened to the ship as several workers on the tarmac rushed to assist the pilot and perform the necessary fueling and maintenance for the next flight. A stairway descended, and two Atlasian soldiers came out. Their uniforms were as crisp and white as the flurry. Long swords were holstered at their sides. Larger guns were resting steady in their hands. Ruby took a deep breath as she drew near them. She remembered her three rules. Don't talk. Get help. Play nice. Don't talk. Get help. Play nice.

Don't talk. Get help. Play nice—

"What the fuck?"

Blake muttered the expletive suddenly, and all four of the girls stopped in their tracks, stunned, as someone else descended down the stairs of the airship. She stood out from the colorless guards through the large, fuzzy trench coat that dipped down to her ankles, itself a deep shade of violet too impure for anything in nature. Her skin was paler than usual, her cheeks thinner, and her blonde hair that they had often seen tied up was instead loosely falling to her shoulders. A thick pair of sunglasses covered her eyes, despite the fact there was barely any sun, and though her gaze was invisible Ruby would tell she was staring right through her. She wore a dark shade of red lipstick that became bloody as she smiled at the four young women staring silently at her presence. None of them could say anything. None of them had the chance anyway.

"Look who it is… my favorite team."

She walked down the steps, black boots jutting out from the coat, and when she touched the ground she proudly strode to the four dumbfounded students, her smile unflinching.

"P-Professor Goodwitch," Ruby said with disbelief. "I… I thought you were—"

"Dead? Buried? Out of commission?" Goodwitch said calmly. "What could possibly give you that idea?"

Her head titled in Blake's direction, and unlike the others, the anarchist's shock was more was laced with a notable rage… and even a pang of small guilt. She had reason to. When Blake revealed she had infiltrated Beacon, the first person to suffer for it was Glynda Goodwitch, Professor of Aura and Semblances. She regretted her actions that day, though she never settled her feelings on assaulting her teacher. Goodwitch was one of the most manipulative actors at Beacon, Ozpin's right-hand-woman. In many ways, she deserved what she got. In others…

"Miss Belladonna," Goodwitch said suddenly. "You look like you have something to say to me."

Blake gritted her teeth, searching for the right words through her confusion. An apology? No, not that. Whatever fragments of guilt she had didn't amount to saying sorry. Something else slipped out instead. "Yeah, actually: How the hell are you still alive? I shot you, like, four times at point-blank range."

"It was only three," Goodwitch corrected her, not unlike how she might correct a student for getting a multiplication problem wrong. Only their conversation had turned to bullets and betrayal, and yet her tone did not change her smile did not once waver. "Don't hype yourself up, Miss Belladonna."

"Three should be enough," Blake reasoned.

"Oh, you did plenty of nasty damage," Goodwitch said with a pleasant uplift in her tone. "But unfortunately for you, Miss Belladonna, when I was lying on the operating table, feeling the doctors extract all of the rounds from my lungs, fusing together my shattered ribs, stitching up my ruptured liver, and desperately saving every last ounce of blood that they could… I just decided that I wasn't going to be killed by someone so pathetic and sad like you. So… I didn't. And here I am."

Goodwitch's smile was bound so tight it could snap necks. Blake just stared at her professor, totally baffled.

"That…" she muttered. "That literally doesn't explain anything…"

"Oh, but it does," Goodwitch said cheerfully, "and now Ozpin invited me back to be your teacher for this semester? Isn't that wonderful news! Oh, but not just you Miss Belladonna. How can I forget? In addition to the Traitor, we have…" She stepped in front of Ruby. "The Manipulator." Weiss. "The Special-wecial Shnowfwake." Yang. "And the Fucking Nutjob." Her tongue lashed out like a viper and she licked her lips in delight. "Ah… I can't begin to tell you how proud I am of the monsters you've become."

Yang clenched her fists but said nothing. Her multi-colored gaze was as dull as the sky. Blake held back a snide comment. Weiss simply took a step closer to Ruby, perhaps for comfort, or simply just to protect her girlfriend. Ruby stood her ground for whatever it was worth, though she wasn't sure if her position was that worth defending. It was cruelly funny; she spent weeks resenting the authorities at Beacon, and now one of her biggest threats was right in front of her and she almost felt ashamed for what happened. Almost—until Weiss spoke.

"We're monsters? That's an interesting statement coming from the person who forced me to run the God's Arm again."

"You survived, didn't you?" Goodwitch said with a slight smirk. "But actually, I didn't come here to place blame."

"Could have fooled me," Blake stated.

"It's true," Goodwitch professed her innocence. "You see, it doesn't matter that you tried to have me murdered, blew up my Academy and tricked Ozpin into letting you all back into school. Trust me. It really doesn't. Not at all. All that… it's in the past. We're past that now. My injuries are mostly healed, it's a brand-new semester, and Ozpin has given me the very special task of being your—for a lack of a better term—your babysitter."

"Babysitter?" Weiss sneered.

"You mean we're your prisoners," Ruby corrected her.

"Why such harsh words?" Goodwitch cooed. "Atlas is a dangerous place for four young women. We thought it would be in your best interest if you had someone keeping an eye on you. We wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you overseas, correct?"

Ruby nearly fought back on the spot. Goodwitch pointed her chin at Ruby with her last words, and the parallel she was drawing was absolutely intentional. Glynda went to class with her mother. They grew up together. Did Summer know that she would eventually turn into this? Did she know how callous her own classmate would be about her demise? If she had any doubts before, this settled it. Ozpin wanted them in chains, oppressed and victimized as far as he could push them. Forcing Goodwitch to monitor them twenty-four-seven was just the icing on the cake.

But she didn't fight back. She didn't even flinch. This was the first trial of her new semester. Unlike last time, he refused to break so easily.

Ruby smiled confidently, matching Goodwitch's tone. "No, of course not. Thank you for looking out for us, Professor."

For the first time—for just a split second—Goodwitch's smile cracked. "It's what teachers do for their students. Come along now. We don't want you to be late for your first day."

Ruby tightened her grip on her suitcase, and without another word, she pushed Goodwitch aside and marched toward the airship. Weiss followed in close pursuit, flipping her hair behind her shoulder as she passed her Professor. Yang shrugged; not the reaction Goodwitch was expecting. Instead of a burst of red, the now multi-colored Huntress calmly made her way to the others. Blake tucked one of her hands into her pockets and strolled past Goodwitch, glancing toward the floor as she passed.

And it was that small touch of hesitancy that made Goodwitch suddenly reach out and grab Blake by the arm.

Blake froze in place, her instincts telling her to fight, but upon glancing toward the older woman, she felt a chill run up her spine more powerful than any winter storm. Goodwitch's smile was gone, her lips pulled back into a thin sneer, and her gaze burned through her sunglasses and pierced into Blake's Soul. The others stopped and turned around, though Goodwitch's action was so brief that they hardly had time to react. She suddenly yanked Blake toward her and pressed her ear against her lips, whispering hoarsely, her words tainted with a nearly erotic hatred.

"Ozpin told me I can't physically harm you unless you step out of line," Goodwitch said bluntly, "but I have so, so many ways of breaking you, Miss Belladonna. I promise… I will make your life a greater hell than you could ever dream of."

She didn't give Blake a chance to respond. Instead, to the abject horror of the team, she pulled back her hand and struck Blake on her backside. The force caused Blake to take two steps stumbling forward, and when she steadied herself, she was shaken with disbelief. Goodwitch just walked to the ship, blatantly downplaying her act of sexual harassment and ignoring the harsh gazes from her students. Blake, unsure how to process what had happened, swallowed her fury and just grabbed her suitcase. She tried not to think about it. If this was how their semester was starting, they might be in more trouble than they thought.

12:15 P.M.

Ruby sat alone by the window. She saw Goodwitch out of the corner of her eye, smiling at her. She ignored it. A small gust of turbulence hit her. The ship was starting to descend. She heard Weiss sharply draw her breath. The ship was changing its altitude.

She glanced out her window. Through the fog, she saw it.

First, she saw the ranges: vast snowy fields, neatly divided into vast cubes whose turfs had been blanketed by thick black splotches of fur. Grazing fields, each separated by glowing sturdy electric fences, each littered with hundreds and hundreds of tamed black-horned buffalo, each animal the size of a bus with the gentleness of a lamb. As she passed over the fields of livestock, she saw the snow turn to grotesque industrial buildings churning smoke and sinew in equal measure, the animals herded inside by their handlers.

Then she saw the train tracks, built on uplifted railings above the vast plains of ice, streaked over the landscape like scars. They passed over a bullet train, whose departing source was unknown, yet its destination was identical to hers. Then the streets became visible, or whatever could pass as streets in the snow-blotched terrain. A military caravan cruised along toward their mutual hell.

Then she overheard the chattering of her pilot on the radio.

Then, military outposts. Soldiers. Airships. Training fields. More outposts.

Then, it appeared.

It materialized through the grey, first an infinite range of rocky mountains stretching into the sky; then, its peak. In the center of her gaze, one great mountain stood out from the others, its height incomprehensible. Mt. Glenn—a long-extinct volcano whose eruptive force was once so tremendous it blew the side of the mountain to pieces. The land around it was washed clean in the destruction, all impurities removed. Within its depths, the steam and heat lingered, and with heat came power and warmth, and with warmth brought the nomads, and from that incredible destruction, from the heat of the earth, breathed life into a civilization.

Atlas—The Kingdom in the Mountain.

Atlas—The Kingdom Underground.

Atlas—The Kingdom in the Sky.

The nicknames all struck her at once when she took in the overwhelming country. Her eyes naturally drifted toward the powerful shadow of Mt. Glenn itself, its front exposed so that the rock could give way to metal. Seeing within the empty mountain, she saw the City of Atlas growing forth like a tumor, its infinite, towering buildings, jutting out into the open air, reaching like curled fingers onto the mountainside and extending outward along the rocky terrain. She saw only the most elegant architecture, technological marvels that would rival anything in Vale, but she also knew the city ran deeper into the core of the mountain, and as its exposure to the sun died so too did its prestige. She knew how its true size penetrated deep into the rock, a ghastly spiral of slums and decay, a mining infrastructure that buried itself God knew how deep, and broke off into piercing veins of subway trains that ran through the infinite mountain range to mines throughout the rocky, mountainous terrain of the continent. A city of glamor and exuberance literally built on top of those who built it, itself built from the gifts the world had given them. The City was aglow with orange powerlines, keeping the warmth, keeping the heart of the Kingdom alive and pumping. The mountain almost seemed like it was crying.

Ruby's eyes led her down the side of the mountain toward the great county of Mantle beneath: a vast burgh of brick and mortar, itself connected to a great bay and river which flowed off toward a distant ocean. She saw the ships, each one rivaling the size of Beacon, patrolling the harbor, fishing up ungodly supplies of trout and crab and lobster to haul off to its masses. Yet, aside from those vessels, nothing stood out within the lower county. Every building looked the same, every street neatly segmented and contained; the whole block, when not facing the bay, was cut off from the elements by massive walls. It seemed boxed in, stuck between the shadow of Mt. Glenn, the infinite plains of snow, and the icy, watery death to its south. Ruby felt the airship move again, only they did not descend as she expected. As the ship gained altitude, Ruby's eyes followed her expected direction, and it was then that she fully took in Atlas's most distinctive feature.

The Hydra.

Three massive floating districts, each one big enough to be a city in and of itself, floating in the air above Mantle. Each district rested on a large metal bottom, their engines the most powerful in the world, keeping them ever afloat in the clouds. From their dorsal fins, massive cables ran down to Mt. Glenn's peak, where a massive spire continuously provided the districts with limitless power to hover without concern. Ruby knew of its infamy; three floating cities built to challenge for the dominion of the heavens. It cost nearly limitless resources to keep them afloat, to provide them with heat and food, the monitor the air pressure so high above the ground, to keep them repaired and sustained as they were battered and bruised by the raging winter elements. They could have used that money to end world hunger, but they didn't. As Blake would put it: They didn't want to end world hunger. They wanted to live above those who starved.

In the leftmost district, Ruby saw the grand central building of the Atlasian Parliament, itself a temple of great columns and statues, its rigidity matching the unbreakable structure of its governmental might.

In the center, stood the ten-towered cathedral known as the Triumpherant, the central religious authority of the Church of Decum Luna. Its face was stained with the symbols of all ten of its deities, and in the darkness of the knight, its greatest tower could easily pierce the broken moon.

And then there was the third district. Her district. Atlas Academy, in all its overwhelming, oppressive glory. Dozens of airships converged on the institution, itself nothing like the castle of Beacon. It was grandiose. It was ugly. It was square and bleak and empty of all features, like the fates of all who attended. Soon, that would be her. Ruby then realized another wonderful feature of having the school floating in the air.

The only way off was to jump.

"Do you see that, Private Polendina? The ships are arriving now."

"I see, General."

"You understand the order, right."

"Of course, she does. You do, right—"

"Private Soleil, I don't recall asking you."

"Apologies, General. I was just—"

"Don't. Don't talk. Private Pollendina, do you understand the order?"

"Yes, General. I am ready for whatever you need."

"Excellent. Then I believe it is time to give these Valians the welcome they deserve."