Cinder waded through the ruins, brushing dust aside in her wake. A faceless student lunged from the shadow of a pillar – and with a gesture, she incinerated him, and his ashes joined the others drifting in the wind.

The weight of the Mantle flowed freely through her Aura, warming her and filling her with a heady, powerful feeling. All of her planning had led her to this single peak... the first among many. She'd scrabbled in the dirt among the weak and the defenseless, she'd clawed her way out of the gutters, and she'd brought down the powerful with a thousand invisible injuries, unseen and unnoticed until it was too late. And now she alone atop that peak of power that so few could ever claim.

As she approached the Vault of the Relic, three students rose to face her. Red, yellow, and white. As red lunged, her Aura breathed out and the air itself ignited in an infernal wave of heat that peeled the skin from her and melted the pavement surrounding her remains.

As yellow leapt, she gestured and her soul exploded in a storm of lightning that arced across the entirety of the Academy, the sheer force of it holding the worthless girl aloft until she fell like a stone, charred and smoking.

As white wove her Semblance, Cinder breathed out and the air stilled, a wave of frost congealing before her. The white student wept blood as her body froze, layer by layer, into a grotesque statue.

She nodded, and continued.

And as she stepped past the yellow student's smoking corpse, it reached up and grasped her by the ankle. She kicked it – once, twice, three times – but its grip remained like iron as it stared up at her with a bloody smile.

"You first, bitch."

"Just DIE!" She wove fire into a tight coil of heat that shined white and cast it down, burning a great hole through the corpse and the ground below it. Yet even with its torso gone, the hand remained firmly upon her.

As she stepped back, firming her footing, a rune blossomed into being beneath her... and the ground surged up, closing on her free leg like a bear trap. She ground her teeth and cast her eyes about.

The white student moved jerkingly, her frozen body cracking with the strain, but her icy gaze matched Cinder's with absolute hatred.

"She killed her."

"You-" Cinder raised her hands, before a weight struck her from behind and an immovable force began to press against her neck. Smoldering fingers wrapped around her windpipe and began to squeeze, and as she turned her head she found blazing white eyes only inches away from her own face.

"I got you."

She clutched and tore at the fingers choking her, but she couldn't even grip them. Her hands slipped off of them again and again, and darkness began to creep in on her field of vision.

The sound of spiteful laughter filled her ears, and she screamed herself hoarse, pulling at everything her Aura possessed. A haze of heat blew outwards, disintegrating the courtyard around her and all the corpses with it.

She collapsed on the melted slag that was the ground, gasping and hacking for air, as her shadow stretched out before her.

And her gaze followed it as it trailed on and on... until she realized it wasn't her shadow at all. Because attached to it was a pair of yellow, slitted eyes that gazed down at her.

The gaze was empty. She wasn't worth hating, or pitying, or acknowledging. The thing wasn't even looking down on her... it was simply that she barely registered to it.

"Shall we show you how small you are?"

Her shadow reached up to envelop her, surrounding and crushing her from every side.

And as darkness swallowed her vision, those yellow eyes watched her... then turned away.

She drowned alone.

She surged up, gasping for air, a hand rising and ignited reflexively – and the blanket drifted back down to the ground, fluttering in the breeze as it did. Her eyes darted around the briefly unfamiliar room as her other hand clutched frantically at her throat.

Slowly, her breathing calmed, and the movement of her eyes slowed. Her hands drifted back down, before reaching up to cradle her face. Her shoulders heaved in a deep breath that made her grimace as the feeling of coldness in her side became too powerful to ignore.

She reached down, tracing her fingers along her left side... feeling the protrusions of white bone from the deep expanse of black Grimm-flesh that dominated her skin from her hip to her breast. As she touched it, the flesh moved slightly, and she felt it shifting within her torso, radiating the cold, alien feeling deeper into her body... and deeper than it had the day before. The growth of the Grimm-flesh had slowed, but not yet stalled, and it made her wonder just how large it would become before it stopped. Her Aura probed uncomfortably at the edges of the dark expanse, and her face twisted into a frown of physical discomfort rather than only emotional.

Her dreams... she wasn't used to them, but they were repetitions of the same theme every time. The same thoughts that plagued her waking hours. She knew she'd nearly died; she wasn't a blind fool, incapable of seeing what was in front of her. That battle with the thing wearing Belladonna's face... everything she'd done, it had brushed aside like nothing. Every spell or trick she pulled out of the Mantle was dismissed with expressionless ease.

And the girls, afterward... they were weaker. Mortal, and they'd nearly died. Yet... there was something about the way they stood, and the look in their eyes, something lurking in the rough edges of their voices. It had taken her days to understand the strange feeling those memories left, the odd certainty that filled her when she thought of it. Those girls were her first true enemies. She'd seen it: one day, either she would kill them, or they would kill her. No other ending existed.

The knocking on the door drew her out of her introspection.

"What?"

The door cracked open and Emerald shuffled into the room. Cinder ignored the way her eyes immediately locked onto the exposed Grimm-flesh. "Cinder... you've been summoned."

"I see. Fine. I'll be there in a moment." She rose, giving herself a cursory examination in the room's mirror. She ignored the growing darkness in her side, and the way her eyes were dark and sunken. She combed her disheveled hair slowly and deliberately, setting the comb down and turning to where Emerald remained frozen. "Yes?"

"Are you... all right, Cinder?"

"I'm fine. Stop asking."

"I- of course. You're right."

"Beacon is recovering, albeit quite slowly. Atlas has been growing increasingly frustrated with the difficulty of sending supplies; I expect they'll double down on securing their supply routes in the near future." Watts stroked his mustache as he spoke, the motion drawing Cinder's eye each time. "Vale's ability to organize their Huntsmen has been heavily damaged, and Grimm attacks outside of the city have grown in severity."

"And the other Kingdoms?" Salem's hands were folded before her as she listened, a neutral expression on her face. Yet, even so... her presence weighed on Cinder, and she felt judged with each second that passed.

"Hmm. Vacuo, as usual, is absorbed with themselves and are sending useless platitudes and nothing more. Mistral has been a bit more involved, at least on the political side of things. They've sent some minor aid, but no significant overtures yet." He sniffed, and his eyes turned to Cinder. "Our information on Menagerie has all but dried up, since most of our informants died during that disaster of a battle."

Her eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." He leaned forward, a malicious glint in his eyes. "I gave you every possible advantage, complete control of the information pipeline, and you still managed to get your forces decimated and fail to retrieve the Relic or secure the Academy. Honestly, I'm surprised you made it out alive at all given your track record."

She bared her teeth, her voice becoming a low snarl as the cold seeped deeper into her side. "You-"

"Enough." Salem's voice was absolute, and her teeth clicked as her mouth closed. Watts leaned back, smirking across the table at her. "Arthur, do not antagonize our Fall Maiden. Cinder... center yourself, and have more confidence." Cinder leaned back in her chair, breathing deeply through her nose and ignoring the way Tyrian gleefully looked between Watts and herself.

"...Of course. My apologies, ma'am."

Slowly and regally, Salem sighed. "You are still so young, and shortsighted... Beacon was a victory. Cinder has claimed the Mantle and secured it by returning here. Not only that... but she has removed Ozpin from play. Permanently, if we are fortunate. Without him, Beacon is simply waiting to fall. Victory does not need to be absolute."

"...Of course." Arthur looked as though he'd eaten something rotten, and the way he looked at her made Cinder bristle.

"Now. What information do we possess regarding Menagerie?"

"...Well, Kali Belladonna features somewhat prominently in the Vale recovery effort. I understand she's been organizing Faunus refugees there around the image of her daughter... although I didn't look too deeply into the article. Here, just a moment..." A few buttons on his scroll, and a small news piece projected forth. He skimmed it, muttering to himself as he scrolled through. Cinder frowned as it scrolled past a picture of Belladonna, and-

"Stop." The table jumped slightly as Salem's voice cracked across it.

"Ma'am?"

"That girl... who is she?"

"Blake Belladonna." Cinder's voice answered before she thought, and Salem's gaze turned to her. She swallowed at the almost tangible weight that pressed down. "She was... the magician that I battled."

"...Was she?" Something in Salem's face shifted, her gaze suddenly far away, and the weight disappeared. After several seconds of silence, she returned to herself. "...I see. Cinder, I have a task for you. Compile all the information you possess on her."

"Are... you certain? She disappeared during-"

"Do not question me."

Cinder recoiled slightly. "I... yes, ma'am. Of course."

"Now. Arthur... you've done well gathering information, and I wish for you to continue. I will allow you to focus on Atlas; I know how you hate them... If their focus is shifting towards supplying Vale, identify targets of opportunity that we might strike. The attack on Beacon has caused quite a storm of chaos; let us fan those flames."

"Of course, ma'am." His smile was vicious. "With pleasure."

"Tyrian... I'm shifting your assignment. I want you in Vacuo, searching for the Summer Maiden."

"Are we abandoning Spring, then?" The gravelly voice of Hazel cut in for the first time.

"Not at all. However... Tyrian has become rather well-known since his assistance in acquiring the Fall Mantle. I am loathe to risk sending him to Mistral so quickly. But, I believe the Summer Mantle has found its way to the desert tribes. I can't imagine the Maiden hiding so successfully within the Academy, and I suspect she wanders with the nomads. Tyrian should have no trouble there."

He simply laughed in response. "It's been ages since I've been home. It will certainly be entertaining... I will not fail you, mistress."

Her head inclined. "I have no doubt, Tyrian. Now, Hazel... Spring shall be your assignment. Continue Tyrian's search; any aid you require shall be provided to you, whether through myself or Arthur."

Hazel considered for a moment before nodding.

Cinder took a breath. "Ma'am? Am I... only to report on Belladonna?"

Salem smiled, and Cinder could almost believe it was kind. "Of course not, my Fall Maiden. You will be training. You will master the Mantle – and hopefully before any of the Maidens are found."

Cinder swallowed, and could only bring herself to nod.

A/N: Merry Christmas, everyone.