And in His rage, He set His gaze upon the land, and the world began to burn. The grasses and the trees began to wither and smoke, the beaches turned to glass, and the mountains and hillsides softened and belched brimstone. His gaze scoured the lands without judgment, charring even the lambs and blackening their fleece just as the wolves, whose skins boiled and eyes poured from their skulls.

And through His gaze, He saw the end of all things, and He knew that his Watch would be no more, for there would be no lambs, and no black sheep, and no more wolves to harm His Sister, and He rejoiced to be rid of THE WEAVER's creation. The lambs' cries He heeded not, for in their blindness and their inaction, they allowed the wolves and the black sheep to steal the eyes of His Sister, and when such harm had befallen Her, it was THE WATCHER who could no longer see.

But, just as the seas started to boil and the lands themselves ignited, THE WATCHER fell to His knees, and His vengeful gaze turned upwards. He cried out in pain, and the fires of His eyes lit a flame so bright that it illuminated the world, and the berth of His scouring created burning holes across THE WEAVER's firmament.

THE WATCHER, enraged, turned His burning gaze to the one who had hobbled Him, but when His scouring eyes harmfully touched the body of His blinded Sister, He faltered.

The Shepherd cried out to Her Brother, for it was Her crook that had stricken His knee, and She spake with the pain of Her burned skin. She begged Her Brother to blink away His fury, and to turn His gaze from the world, for it was their Mother's proudest creation that He had burned, and with Her memory, She pleaded for Her Brother to be kind, for it was Her lambs that He had harmed, and for Her blinding they could not be blamed.

But He could not be kind, and His rage He could not belay, and He made this known.

But She could only smile, for She could see that His fury was born from love, and She too made this known.

And THE SHEPHERD, in Her wit, told Him only to temper His fury, and to close His eyes to their Mother's creation. She told Him that She was blind, and Her eyes could no longer keep Her pasture, and She could no longer set the lambs from the black sheep.

She bade Her Brother to be Her keeper, and to turn His Watch unto procession of lambs entering Her pasture, and THE WATCHER loved His Sister dearly, so He did. He shut His eyes from their Mother's creation, and fashioned a cane for His broken leg from scattered pieces of their Mother's remnants, and joined His Sister in Her pasture. And that is all Anva told me of it, and now that I have told you, I know it to be true.

Ollard Attestations, lect 3

Weiss' eyes were wide open. She didn't think they'd ever been closed.

'Stop it! You have no right to—'

She forced her will onto the sword. It sang through the air.

'This is in violation of—'

It wasn't. Control was a path walked both ways; if it didn't want to be controlled, it shouldn't have opened such avenues.

'I will not be—'

It would. And why wouldn't it want to be? Its blade was dancing, slicing through Grimm-flesh like it was forged to.

'Weiss, stop it!'

It wanted all the Grimm dead, so all the Grimm would die. And one was in front of her.

'It's the sap! You're seeing things!'

She was seeing the truth. She'd seen it all. Weiss wasn't enough— she needed to be more. Somebody who could honor her ideals, fulfill her contract, somebody who wouldn't keep crawling back to father. Somebody who could protect Ruby, who could keep the blood off her precious hands.

"For shit's sake, Weiss! Stop!" The Grimm mewled, as if she'd allow its deceit to touch her mind again.

She pushed the saber on, the tip digging into the roof of the pinned Grimm's mouth. She knew they would try to deceive her, she'd learnt that firsthand. She gave another push, a final push, one that would pin this creature's fetid black brain to the dirt.

Something wrapped around her waist— a long, viscous black tail, yanking her away from the squealing Grimm. She swept behind herself, the saber aligning perfectly to sever the constraining flesh. Finally free, she began an assault on this new challenger.

This Grimm was notably more skilled, with long-clawed hands that shot out to parry her swipes. She watched a second pair of chitinous, pincered arms break from the flesh of its back, bursting forth to clamp tightly around her blade.

She pushed her will into the sword, demanding it free itself, but the Grimm's pinching claws melted into sinew and root that entangled the blade, holding it tight against her meager musculature. She cried out in exertion, then decided to simply unhand the sword as Ruby would.

The sword refused to be let go, the blade-spirit's ego rebelling against her own just long enough to keep her hands on its hilt for an extra second— enough time for the stringy sinews to whip out around her wrists, tightly shackling her arms while the roots locked her hands to the handle.

The Grimm pulled her closer, clawed hands coming to her shoulders to better steady her form. Its maw opened wide, and a nightmarish cry spewed forth:

"Snap out of it Weiss, it's the sap!I gave you too much!"

'Please, Weiss, control yourself! I'm not the only one that needs you!'

Nobody needed her, they needed her gone, where she couldn't bring any more harm. Not to them, at least.

'What about that sweet human girl, huh? Ru—uh… shit, it's in here somewhere— Ruby!'

Weiss sneered, letting her ice build up behind her teeth. Pulling moisture from the body was particularly dangerous, but it was much better than being eaten by Grimm. Besides, Ruby didn't need her, that girl was better off on her own. She was simply too loyal to stay at Weiss' side, her heart too golden not to help whenever she learns of Weiss' contract. She'd devote her whole life to it if she had to— Weiss had seen that much was true.

Even if she did free the spirit, she'd forever confined herself to a life of bloodshed. Stabbing Jacques and her flight from Pyrrha were etched in her tombstone; the Shimmer was only a screen to get them some distance and time to form a plan, or at least a way to get the others out of this mess. Weiss would pull the focus off them, and onto herself. All she had to do was answer one question:

How many nobles would she have to kill for the world to forget Ruby Rose?

Well, considering the smith had maimed more than a few noble heirs and was actively being hunted by the Knight Captain itself… a lot. Would she be willing to rip the whole empire apart just to make Ruby safe? Of course she would. Could she, though? Her only kill had been more accidental than anything else. She knewshe had the zeal for it; her uncertainty lay in whether she had the ability to kill again.

Oh, right, the Grimm. It was just holding her, staring into her eyes like she'd suddenly snap into realization or something. Instead, she released the ice from her lungs.

A maelstrom of frozen spikes, powered by her writhing, engorged Aura, blasted across the Grimm, forcing it to scramble back as it bellowed with pain. Weiss took the opportunity to wrench her sword out of its grip, slicing through the roots and sinews that had shackled her. Pushing her will into the sword, it pulled her into a lunge, her slash flourishing across the Grimm's chest.

Seeping black hide split into a thin red line, leaking more red. Red, red— not black, as it should be. Red.

The amber over her eyes cracked, a spiderweb lattice forming over her vision.

How many nobles could she kill to make the world forget Ruby Rose?

James Vicenzi hunched before her, shaking hands clutched around a weeping chest wound.

Willow Schnee hugged the torn fabric of her dress, blood seeping through her fingers.

Cardin Winchester marveled at the red spewing through the ravine cleft in his chestplate.

Neptune Vasilias gaped at the blood shooting from his chest.

Alistair Vaux watched his vitae spew.

Adelaide Scarletina's wide eyes…

Esmerelda Fall…

Mercutio Nero…

Cordovin…

Eisenholz…

Taurus…

The faces shifted, the bodies flashed, the blood wept, the catalog of victims tallying ever higher, ever steeper, her hands sinking ever deeper into the chalice.

She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could. She could… Couldn't she?

Weiss Schnee.

She will. She has to.

'Weiss, stop!'

Shut up.

'You don't know what—'

Shut up.

'It's the—'

I know.

She pulls the rope, the guillotine falls.