I'm still sick today but going to force myself to write. It's hard to know if I'm on the recovery or not because this is so rough. Also it's the coronation today so getting to a doctor for a problem that isn't immediately threatening isn't happening. Sigh. Forgive me if this chapter is rough or short but I'm pretty much living on medication and painkillers right now. I also lost my sense of taste and smell yesterday but regained taste this morning. Covid tests say negative so I know it's not that.

Cover Art: Kirire

Chapter 51

Blake hit the rocky ground and kept moving, one eye on All Becomes Dust as she went. It reached out to them with its tentacles, but lazily, like it wanted to touch them but wasn't so eager as to put any effort into the act. It was almost more of an offer – that they could touch it if they wanted, but that it wouldn't push the issue. She didn't trust it either way.

"There must be another way out," said Jaune, catching Coral as she skidded down far less gracefully than they. He caught her with his hands under her armpits and then set her on her feet. "The SDC aren't going to ship the dust out through their own manor so there must be an access route leading outside." He looked at the numerous rocky tunnels leading off and growled out, "My life for some sodding signage. You'd think they'd have some signs up telling staff where to go!"

"We shouldn't panic," said Blake. "We might have time. Winter is surely going to be going after Nicholas and the others up on the surface. There's no reason to think she'll come down here-"

Fresh roots speared through the ceiling and ate their way down the walls, cracking rock and then paradoxically reinforcing it before it could crumble, forming a net of vine-like roots each thicker than a human arm and wickedly barbed with glowing blue thorns. None came near All Becomes Dust since it was floating in the centre of the cavern.

"You were saying?" asked Coral.

"It's still no guarantee she's going to-"

"Jauuuuune!" sang a horrific and yet familiar voice. "Where are you, Jaune? Come. Come, and let us usher in a new age."

Coral stared at Blake. "You were-"

"Random tunnel! Now!" Blake grabbed Coral's arm and chose the first on their left. Jaune followed. There was nothing the same or different from any other – but it at least had tracks on the ground. It was a good sign if heavy machinery had been this way.

As they went, their comms devices crackled as Nicholas Arc belted out instructions. "Target anomaly appears to be a humanoid entity wrapped in plant-like material resistant to small arms fire. Thorns are capable of inflicting near immediate hypothermia and are likely to be fatal if experienced for too long. Entity appears to have retained some degree of its prior intelligence making it a Reality-Class threat. It is to be destroyed."

Easy for him to say! Blake ducked under vines that seemed to grasp for them, and leapt over those cracking through rock across the ground. There was light ahead, a pinprick at first but then more, but before they could get closer to it a solid wall of vines slammed down and down again, one, two, three layers thick. Blake slashed at them with Gambol Shroud, and the blade did cut through them a little, but they were so thick and more kept coming, turning it into a wall of vines some ten feet thick.

"Back," said Jaune, already turning and pulling Coral with him. "She knows we're here now!"

Blake was sure Winter had known long before she cut those roots; this placement was too exact, perfectly cutting off their escape. It could be that Winter had closed every route out at just the right time, but she doubted it. Why isn't she closing the trap, then? She has us stuck in this tunnel and she could close roots on the other side of us.

She didn't, and Blake didn't much like how "lucky" they were getting. It felt less like luck and more like Winter wanted them back in the main chamber with All Becomes Dust. Sure enough, they faced no obstacles getting there, but the moment they crossed out the tunnel into the chamber, it was closed behind them by more vines. As were the other exits – all except for the one they'd come through, back into the Schnee manor. And there were vines coming out of that, hooking into the walls and pulling tight like they were dragging something with it.

"Well," said Coral, breathless, but somehow not at all afraid. "It looks like our guest wants to welcome us here. This is… less than ideal."

"I'll protect you." said Jaune.

"Adorable. Truly. But ultimately, I think we will need to protect one another if we're to have any hope of survival." Left unsaid was that she didn't think they did.

Blake didn't either, though not because she didn't think Winter could be beaten. If Jaune transformed, then he could perhaps hold his own against her – the problem was that he'd become a fire-based anomaly in a cavern filled with a small mountain of volatile dust. The chemical reaction would be swift and destructive, and no amount of aura would protect her from it.

"Do you have any tricks, Coral?" asked Blake. "Your anomalies-"

"A few. I will employ them when I see the opportunity. Our goal may not need to be to kill her, however. Not immediately. If Winter truly has mastered a transformation like Jaune's then it should come with the ability to change back like he can. Importantly, the fact that he cannot always control changing back. If Winter shares that then we might be able to knock her out her transformation."

"It's our best shot," said Jaune. "Let me take the lead either way. Even without aura, she has reason to keep me alive. The same won't go for you, Blake. Your last fight went poorly."

The reminder wasn't a welcome one when they were about to square off again. Blake could only hope the newness of Winter's body would cause the woman issues. It'd hopefully be like sparring with a new weapon. If not, well, there wasn't much of a chance.

Not unless Coral's anomalies could save the day.

Winter's lower body came out the tunnel first, followed by her upper body and head that came dragged behind her. She had been a tall woman before, but was not at least two feet taller – eight feet, if not more. Her body had not become wider, giving her an unnaturally elongated appearance with a bizarrely stretched out neck of green moss-like material. Her face was covered by a mask – or had become a mask. It was wooden and simple, with two holes for glowing eyes and three vertical slits to speak through.

Her body and clothing had merged into a grey and brown encasement of wood and bark that looked natural despite its bright white colour. Vines wrapped around her chest in an X-shape, reaching up and over each shoulder and crossing over her chest before tucking back under and around over her back. There were more vines around her legs. In fact, her legs had been replaced entirely by a multitude of vines that she moved on by having them writhe and drag her about. Winter regarded them, and though there was no face with which to smile, her smugness radiated out from her.

"Well?" she asked. "Am I not beautiful?"

"You're inhuman," said Jaune.

"Inhuman? No. I am posthuman. I am beyond human. I am the next step of evolution. Like this, humanity need hide from the dark truths of the world no longer. We can face them on an even footing and claim our rightful place." Winter held out an arm. There was a human hand there, and fingers, but also vines that pooled out from her sleeve and coiled about her wrist. "All I need is for you to join me and show the world that there is a path forward. You and I shall become the first. The progenitors. The age of dust shall come to an end, and the age of ascension shall begin."

Jaune sneered. "You're insane."

"Am I? You are the one who by your own words is inhuman. Is it not insanity that you continue to fight for a family who despise and would kill you? The sane thing to do, I would think, is to join with others like you and fight for the right to exist."

"That's your twisted logic talking, so of course that would make sense to you. Anyone else would be horrified by it."

"Is that so? Or is this your human side talking. Let us see if your answer differs when you face me with your true self." Her mask slid to Blake and Coral. "And I recall a very simple way to push you to transformation."

Jaune jumped in front of them, Crocea Mors held sheathed before him but ready to draw. Blake was glad for it. Maybe it could cause Winter some actual harm. Hopefully. The plant-like woman laughed hysterically at Jaune's defensiveness, knowing she had the right of it.

They were his weakness here – more so than his lack of aura, because killing him wasn't Winter's plan. What was? Escaping with him? That was the only thing that made sense. All that talk of a new age wouldn't mean much when the rest of ARC Corp came down on her head.

"This is quite unreasonable, Winter," said Coral, voice steady. "I did not take you for such a reckless scientist."

"Ah, Coral. Ever the curious one. Ever the interesting one. I enjoyed our many dinner dates together. Perhaps you would like to sample this power as well? I could make it happen. I am not so selfish that I would not share."

"I shall have to pass. Injecting myself with a dangerous substance is simply poor practice, and just because it worked for you does not mean it would for me. You are working off survivor bias. I highly doubt your investors will take a sample size of one well."

"I am aware. But fear not. After here, that sample size shall rise drastically. There are many small faunus villages and mining camps that have an abundance of test subjects. Of course, I find myself in need of a lead researcher now that my family has come under hard times. The position is open if you want it."

Honestly, Blake thought she should take it. Whether she wanted it or just planned to run away at the first opportunity, it would be Coral's best shot of making it out of here alive. Common sense wasn't in Coral's vocabulary, however. Cold logic was, but she was still an Arc at the end of the day so Blake wasn't too surprised when she threw caution to the wind and rejected the offer.

"Respectfully, I must decline. You see, my brother is my test subject and I've been working on and with him for many years. I cannot simply let you invalidate all that research by taking him away. My apologies."

"Mine as well for what happens today. For what little it might be worth, I enjoyed our candid discussions."

"The same." Coral touched Jaune's shoulder. "Brother, darling, be a dear and kill her."

Jaune launched himself forward, drew Crocea Mors and slashed it at Winter's chest. He wasn't fast by huntsman means, but Winter was slower than her usual self, having to writhe and wriggle away on vines instead of jump back with feet. Instead, she summoned up a wall of vines in front of Jaune to take the attack, hissing as they were cut through as easily as a hot knife might butter. It shone with incredible light, enough to make Winter – and All Becomes Dust – shy back.

Blake brought her own gun up and opened fire, choosing distance and range over encroaching on those vines of hers. Winter had even more trouble blocking those than she did the sword, each round impacting faster than she could hope to bring one up. Nicholas had been right to say she could shrug off small arms fire because aside from annoying her, the rounds bit deep into her vines and lost most of their momentum. One, however, burst into fire and tore a vine to shreds.

Elemental dust worked! Blake ejected her magazine and raced to the bottom of the mountain of dust. It was ridiculous to take such a break in the middle of a fight but Jaune was keeping Winter busy, and she'd be useless if she went in like this. Blake worked the head of each bullet open instead, scooped dust into it and then sealed them. She'd learned how to do all this in the White Fang, along with weapons care and anything else they felt would be necessary. The White Fang had a tendency to steal a lot of refined dust from hitting SDC transports and all, so they had to know how to make use of it themselves without involving a weapons manufacturing plant.

All Becomes Dust seemed to watch her as she worked, occasionally reaching out a lazy tentacle as if to stroke her hair. Each time, she shied back, waited for it to go on by and then returned, always keeping one eye on it in case it tried getting grabby with her.

Jaune was keeping Winter back more by virtue of his anomalous sword shining and threatening to burn her to ash than by skill. She hadn't been prepared for it, Crocea Mors never being a threat to Winter before, and she obviously didn't know how much damage it would do if it connected.

Hopefully, it'll do a lot. This should be enough.

Sliding the last round into the clip, she slid it back into Gambol Shroud and took aim. The first shot caught Winter in the left shoulder and exploded into particles of ice, creeping up over her arm. The second hit her below it, causing lightning to crackle up and down the limb and shatter the ice with a pained roar from Winter.

It was working – and it really was dust. Refined dust at that, not even raw or unprocessed. All the factories the SDC ran were a lie as well then, or they served only to pick and separate the dust into various colours and varieties. She'd grabbed a handful of mixed dust and each of her shots seemed to be doing a different thing. As long as all those "things" were working, she didn't much mind.

Between Jaune slashing and keeping her attention and Blake's plinking here and there, Winter had to be taking damage. Anomalies didn't have aura, so she was as defenceless as Jaune in that regard. Trading aura for monstrosity wasn't much of an upgrade in her mind, but aura was anomalous too so maybe it was more of a side-grade. When Blake unloaded the last of her shots and went back for more, Coral knelt by her.

"Father and the rest of ARC Corp are planning to blow a hole in the ceiling. I've told them to make sure no one jumps down into All Becomes Dust. We just need to keep her busy a little longer-"

"Enough!"

Vines exploded up from the ground and stabbed in a staccato pattern toward each of them. Jaune was forced back, while Blake pushed Coral out the way and weaved around and between hers. The thorns tickled her White Fang uniform and she felt the icy chill wash over her stomach. It hadn't even nicked skin and she already felt like she'd been dunked in an ice bath.

Winter sent another wave at them – more of the same, and just to buy herself even more room. Jaune sheathed Crocea Mors just to keep it from burning him until he got closer again. Winter sent a third wave his way, pushing him even further back along the wall and away from them. Blake saw Winter's plan in motion and lunged for Coral, grabbed her arm and began hauling her the other way, taking the circumference around the cavern in such a way that Winter would push Jaune to them rather than away from them. If they had to play ring-a-round-the-roses with the floating squid anomaly in the middle of the cavern, then so be it.

Walls sprouting up in between them proved that Winter had other ideas, and that Blake had guessed her original plan correctly. Blake backtracked and saw a vine coming for them both; she shoved Coral down and out the way and pumped her aura out, slashing with Gambol Shroud at the same time. The vine was cut in two but both parts wrapped around the weapon, which Blake surrendered before they could reach her hand. She yanked Coral up and pushed her under and into movement. "Don't look! Keep running!"

"I-I can't use any of my anomalies like this," the girl panted.

"Well she isn't going to give us a chance to sit still-"

Coral fumbled something on her belt and shoved it into Blake's hands. It was a book – leather bound with one of those strips across the front so you could lock it. Nothing about it looked out of place, and yet everything about it felt larger than life. It was warm in her hands, and she felt it pulse like a heartbeat. This was a bad thing, she immediately knew, though maybe that was just being too well-read about books that raised the dead or did other terrifying things.

"I can't use this!" said Coral. "I'm a researcher, not a fighter. You can use it and keep mobile."

"What do I do?"

"Just read-" Coral was cut off with a sharp cry. Mid-movement, she'd been caught around her ankle by a vine and hoisted away. Blake kept hold for as long as she could but another vine coming to wrap around her forced her to let go.

"CORAL!" screamed Jaune.

"Stay calm!" shouted Coral. It was to Jaune. Only to Jaune. "Do not lose control whatever happens to me! Do not let her invalidate my experiments!"

"A scientist to the end," chuckled Winter, ignoring Jaune's screaming assault and Blake's own rapid approach. "Then perhaps you should study this anomaly, Coral. I'm sure it will fascinate you."

With a flick of a tentacle, Coral was sent up and arching through the air, end over end, towards the mountain of dust in the middle of the room. Blake screamed her name, for all the good it did, and reached out a hand as though Coral could extend her own twenty or more feet. She could not, and Blake could not reach her.

But something else could.

All Becomes Dust caught Coral gently in its arms and brought her close to it. It seemed to caress her, supporting her weight with multiple tentacles like a parent would a baby. It brought her up to its black mass as if to speak to her, and Coral went slack in its arms.

"Oh," she whispered, her voice quaint and quiet, reaching their ears despite everything else. "Oh, I… I never once realised. I…" Coral's voice cracked. "This is how it all works? This is how reality ends? There is the culmination of one's life? How cruel. Even an eternity of nothingness would be preferred."

Then, before their eyes, Coral Arc turned to dust. Her clothes remained, fluttering emptily in the thing's tentacles as the woman who had filled them drained out the bottom and joined the mountain of dust beneath it. Several trinkets, anomalies, fell to land in the dust and were buried under a fine layer of their previous owner.

It happened in but a second.

Jaune screamed.

The world burned.

"Yes! Yes!" Winter cackled. "Let me feel it again!"

Blake didn't bother to call out to him – not like this. He was too far gone and she couldn't blame him. Winter had all but forgotten her now that she'd achieved her goal. The tentacles hounding Blake went slack or remained where they were, some flicking with pleasure but not reaching for her. Jaune, burning like a comet, cast aside his sword and flew forward with two red-hot wings bursting from his back, crashing into Winter and barrelling her off her vines. They fell, Winter laughing and Jaune screaming, and soon the flames were lapping out from their position.

No time. Damn it, Coral, I just know you had more to say about how to use this damn thing then you managed to get out. Such was the reality of an anomaly, but she didn't have the time to be picky. Blake unlatched the cover and wrenched the book open at the first page. The pages were a thick parchment that felt too soft and too warm to be wood-based paper. Leather, maybe, or silk, or whatever fancy stuff old books used. Vellum, she thought it might be called. However old it was, its pages were crystal clear. Blank, too.

Until, suddenly, they were not.

Words were being written on the page.

And Blake felt compelled to read them out loud.

"Once upon a time a young girl was lost in the forest." Her fingers moved to turn the pages without her consent. "This girl was in dire need of something, and knew that there was a wise woman inside the forest who could grant her any wish."

Winter and Jaune clashed.

Blake couldn't pull her eyes from the book, upon which black ink sketched out a looking and impossibly beautiful forest. In the centre of it stood a tiny figure holding up a torch. Shadows seemed to loom toward the figure, as they did toward Blake in real life. Her ears twitched at what she was sure was the sound of rustling leaves.

"The girl looked long and hard through the forest for the wise woman, and eventually found herself on a trail toward a wide and open clearing. There, at the shore of a large lake, sat a beautiful woman with perfect skin, a perfect mouth, a perfect nose, and eyes of pure black, twinkling like gemstones."

The woman appeared on the page. Inhuman, abnormal. Blake saw it immediately. Her eyes were too big, her mouth too wide, and there was a fay quality about her that made Blake shiver. The black eyes seemed to look out at her from the very pages. Idly, past jet-black hair, Blake noted that the woman's ears were tapered to a point.

"The woman reached out toward the child and beckoned her to come closer. `Fret not, mine dear child` said the woman. `For thou have found she who thou seek. Speak now thy wish. What is it thee desireth?` The child could feel the weight in the air at such words and found herself unable to look away."

Blake could not look away.

Her heart thudded in her chest. No matter how hard she tried, she could not pull her eyes away, only tilt her head from one side to the other desperately. The woman on the page moved, ink swaying as her hair did, and eyes blinking shut and open once more.

"`Come now, little Belladonna flower,` said the woman. `Thou would not be here if thou wisheth naught. What is it thy desireth? Only then shall thou be allowed to leave my glade.`"

The words on the page overtook the image: "What is it thou desireth?" in cursive script.

It knew her name, it knew her face, it knew her mind. Blake longed to pull away and hurl the thing into the distance, but Coral had entrusted it to her before her death. In a way, in a sense, Coral had also trusted it to be of use. Or she had simply been content to let Blake use it and damn her to the consequences.

There was no choice anyway. It wasn't going to let her go without an answer.

"I need the power to defeat Winter and save Jaune."

"The woman smiled a cruel and hungry smile that set poor Blake's heart alight with fear. `Power is a worthy wish,` said the inhuman woman. `Many seek it, some find it, none are ever satisfied with it. Ever more, they crave. Ever more, shalt thou crave? We shall see.` The woman smiled then and offered her hand. `And what should I accept in exchange for this boon? All power comes at a price."

Blake clenched her jaw. Of course this was a bad idea. "I can pay you money."

"The woman tittered, and Blake knew then that physical riches were not what the woman desired."

"Then what do you want?" asked Blake. "What would be a fair exchange?"

"The woman tilted her head in thought. Rare was it the days where visitors would ask her thought, so sure of themselves and their wit. Curious, she decided to answer true, and exact no more than necessary a price. This time."

"`For power capable of fighting your foe, several prices might apply. Thy firstborn daughter, or the firstborn girl of your line should you birth none. Thy skill at combat, to be plucked from thy mind and taken. Twenty seasons of thy youthfulness taken in advance. The gift of speech for a period of four seasons. Thine eyesight for two. Thy pleasure and joy for fourteen days and nights."

"My pleasure? Do you mean I'm to become a sex slave?"

"The woman tittered at such uncouth language, and explained in no uncertain terms that young Blake's life would remain undisturbed, but that all the pleasure and joy and all good feelings she experienced during the time would be gifted to the strange woman instead."

How was two weeks of having her pleasure sucked out of her worth the same as the life of a newborn child? Or what apparently amounted to five years of her life – presumably ageing her by five years on the spot. These prices seemed very uneven, but going a year without speech or half a year blind wasn't on the cards.

"My pleasure for fourteen days and nights!" she snapped. "We have a deal!"

"We have an accord, said the woman, and waved young Blake from her grove. `Return to me when thou wish another boon. Know that thou wished only for the power to defeat thy current foe, and not for it to last. A poor choice of words on thine part. Thou art fortunate I am amused by a new face."

Blake's hands clapped the book shut outside her control, and the leather strip worked its way back into the latch without her ever touching it. Her breath crashed back into her, leaving her gasping. Had that-? Of course it was real. There was no point doubting it at this stage.

Then did that mean-?

Blake looked across to see Jaune half-transformed and doing his level best to burn Winter alive. The woman did indeed burn, and it was clearly agonising, but she continued to laugh and goad him on, and the vines around them glowed. Was she draining nutrients to sustain herself? It made some sense, tree and all.

Gambol Shroud was goodness knew where, but she rushed over to the nearest vines, ones pulsing with energy and leading back to Winter. Reaching between the thorns, Blake grasped the thick roots.

"You said you'd grant me power!" she hissed. "Time to see if you're not all talk!"

There was a tug at her hands. A pulse of something foreign. Alien. It seeped out Blake's fingers and into the roots as a purple haze, and the structure withered and shook, turning first to stone and then flaking away as ash. The entire root structure for four feet on either side of her hands withered away and broke apart, and Winter screeched in fury.

Did I-? It worked! I can fight!

There was no elation that came from that. No pleasure, no satisfaction, only a cold and detached acknowledgement. In truth, she felt as though she might as well sit down and let things play out. When she thought of Jaune, all she could think was that he was her boss. He was a man who gave her a job. When she thought of Coral, all she could think was that she had been a cold woman who died a pointless death.

When she thought about home, she thought only of her parents having been – technically speaking – her parents, and having taken care of a lot of her earliest problems in life. But they had been flawed too. Kind of pathetic in the grand scheme of things. They'd given up on their cause and then berated her for picking up the same cause, and acted like she had made a grand mistake because of it. Hypocrisy. Jaune and Winter were no less hypocrites in their own ways. Blake supposed she was, too.

"Why should I fight?" she asked herself, honestly a little unsure of why she should bother. It didn't feel like anything was in it for her. Jaune was her employer and she had called him friend, but she was hard-pressed now to think why. Had she thought she loved him? There was none of that now. Only a cold ocean of disinterest.

I still can't let him just die!

Why couldn't she?

Because it's my job, and because I paid a price for this power.

Blake nodded. Convinced. It would be a shame to pay for something and then not use it, she supposed. A bit wasteful. There was no satisfaction in it, and she doubted there would be in the fight, but at least she could stop that irritating cackling coming from Winter. Walking forward, Blake stooped to pick up Crocea Mors, her eyes flat and bored, and her lips parted in a quiet sigh.

This was all such a bother than she didn't think she'd mind too much if Winter killed her.

But it sounded a lot easier to kill her first.

One should be wary of deals made with the fay, Blake.

Next Chapter: 8th May

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