Note: Well this took longer than expected. Got a bit burnt out from the previous chapter, and then right when I got ready to write again, got hit with Covid which took me out of commission for a week. So yeah, 2024 is off to a great start. But yes, now I'm back to deliver to you all from the terrible cliffhanger I left you with last chapter. And no this one isn't as long as that one. Still long as fuck though. I swear I'm actually gonna be more reasonable next time. Anyway, let's bring this arc to a close, shall we? Enjoy.
Dive…
Dive…
Dive…
Weiss opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was darkness, endless, directly in front of her. Her mind attuned itself. All of her memories, her feelings, her self, had been stripped away in an instant. She tried to take a breath, but her lungs wouldn't expand. She no longer needed to. The pain from her fight with Pyrrha disappeared as well.
Strange.
Her body felt light, weightless. She slowly raised her hands to look at them. They stood out boldly amidst the darkness. The wound on her hand was gone. Her skin was covered in a gentle white glow. Her fingers moved slowly through the void as if pushing through water. Weiss stared blankly at her fingers as she tried to refocus. Thoughts echoed around her and spoke as whispers. The shock gradually wore off. The memories returned. Her purpose.
Winter.
Winter.
Her eyes snapped open. She scanned her head left and right. Something resembling relief came over her. Did it work? Was this the Astral? She felt… wrong. Cold. The darkness seemed to stretch on infinitely in front of her. There was no floor in sight. No walls. No escape. The memory of her encounter with the Reveler returned and brought with them clarity. That was right—in the end, this was his world. The broken plane that stretched beyond nothingness. The realm she crashed into where her final trials awaited her, where she slew the terrible god and stole its powers. It had to be.
It worked.
Weiss looked down at herself. She was floating within the empty space, her body shimmering in the white glow. She squeezed her hands a few times, trying to get a feel for her new form. That was different than last time. She didn't understand this world's effects on her, only its potential. If she were in lighter circumstances, she might have stared in awe at her ability to breathe without breathing, at hearing her thoughts aloud, at the grand, exotic power that she could feel coursing through every inch of her skin. The most she could summon was a kick of her feet to test her motion, and another wandering glance—this time down to the void beneath her.
At once, she froze and wished she hadn't looked.
In front of her, there was darkness. To her sides, darkness. But beneath, she saw something else. It was ten meters down, floating in a cradle position amidst the nothingness. It did not move independently, but gently drifted among empty space. No, wait—not empty. Surrounding it were small sparks of light, flickers of red and purple and blue that flashed into existence before dying out and reverting to the cold. Even through the darkness surrounding it, she could clearly see its features. At least, those she recognized. A heavy black cloak that covered most of its diseased, hardened skin. A pickaxe squeezed into its right hand despite the limpness in the rest of its form. Its face was turned down away from her, but if she could see it, she would immediately recognize the cracked gas mask. Coddled, sleeping, distant, its massive size was imperceptible. It had always been beneath her, only now the disparity was literal.
The First Aspect of Decum Luna.
The Miner.
Weiss stared at it, waiting for it to react. She nearly called out but thought against it. Suddenly, a spark of purple light appeared beside her, and she jumped back in surprise. The Miner never sensed her presence. If it did, it ignored her. To Weiss's surprise, her gaze drifted upward, and the shallow fear that she experienced seeing another God turned to horror when she noticed what was above her.
A hundred meters in the air, in a realm of ever-present sparks, floated the Knight in its impenetrable armor.
A thousand meters above that, in a sea of blue, was another figure, one she had only seen in drawings and violent flashes. It too slumbered.
And ten thousand meters above it, now in a realm awash with multi-colored brilliance, was another.
With each layer, the lights grew more dazzling. Embers turned to nebulas as the Gods spiraled up and up, each one stretched further apart from the last. The dark faded into storm clouds of shifting gorgeous stars, the kinds that could only be seen with the most powerful telescopes, all here, all gifted to her sight. Their forms became nothing more than specks, lost in distance and beauty, but Weiss knew them all in order.
The Blacksmith.
The Librarian.
The Healer.
The Banker.
The Dreamgazer.
The Mother.
At its peak, directly above her, there was the last layer, and the bright light overwhelmed her. High above everything else was an orb, a glowing, bright blue sun that seemed to tear its way through the very fabric of this dimension. The surrounding nebulas shifted around it in gravitational pull, their drift leading them to a perfect orbit. Weiss couldn't count how many meters of space were between her and the sun that cut through the world, but she knew what must have waited in its center. The Aspect of Authority. The Tenth. That whose wisdom and power guided the wills of all the others.
The Prince.
It was almost too much for Weiss to comprehend. The Aspects of Decum Luna, all linked together in a sea of stars. Was this always here? Where even was here? Was the Astral itself a place beyond the physical realm of Remnant, one that could be traveled to a million miles away? Even when she was here last, trapped in the Reveler's nightmare, she only saw the blackness, what he wanted her to see. Now, gifted with his sight, she could see the truth that was always hidden out of view. It was a sight the greatest scholars of her Kingdom would have killed for, and for now, alone in this magnificent world, it was all hers.
Except, it wasn't. That realization came upon her far too late. Her eyes drifted down from the great spectral realm above her, away from the twisted galaxies that made the Haven of the Aspects, back to the darkness. She couldn't feel her chest grow tight, or her breath stick in her throat. Her bodily responses were gone, but the tension wasn't. Weiss carefully turned around. This wasn't her realm, after all. She knew its place, its origin. It belonged to something else. And there, behind her, floating in the despairing black, was a giant's corpse. Its suit was frayed. Its blond hair was thin. It rested on its back, its neck craned awkwardly. The skin was black, scars still etched from their great battle and its violent end. Its face, once brimming with life, had rotted to an awful skull, ones whose dead eyes and permanent scream of horror were focused directly at her.
Weiss swallowed her fear and floated toward it. Like all else in the void, it gently floated, but there was no sign of life. Weiss drew closer, half-expecting the corpse to lunge at her. It was silly, of course. Even as its screaming skull stared her down, it could not respond to the presence of its killer. Weiss came to a stop directly in front of it, the face nearly the size of her torso. She pressed her palm against the dead flesh. Her fear turned to fury as she remembered the horrible acts it did to her and her friends, but quickly, the anger died and became pity.
"I can see why you were envious now," she told it. "It's more beautiful up there than you deserve."
The moment passed, and Weiss' focus returned. She wasn't here to study the Aspects of Decum Luna, or even to solve the Astral's mysteries. She was here for one job and one alone. She turned her back on the Reveler's corpse.
"Okay… now how the hell do I fix Winter in this place?"
Weiss took a minute to collect her thoughts and plan her next move. Winter was suffering, but she remembered the last time she was in the Reveler's world, time seemed to flow differently. Hardly a few moments passed in Remnant despite the hours of torment she had gone through. It didn't calm her entirely, but she knew she could at least think without risking Winter's life. Think. Think. If Ruby was here, what would she do? She tried to summon Ruby's wisdom. Easier said than done. Ruby didn't know anything about the Astral either, not more than their one shared experience. What else to do then? Well, she had one answer, the same thing that guided her this far.
"Instinct," Weiss answered herself. "Feel my way around. Fine…"
Weiss closed her eyes and tried to focus. She didn't know what she was looking for, but she tried to concentrate her thoughts.
Winter.
Find Winter.
She's in here.
She has to be.
Weiss felt something pull at her. A voice—no, a feeling from somewhere deep into the nothingness. She reached out toward it.
Come here.
Come…
Come closer…
Her mind stretched for the source until she could see it clearly. She felt its presence deep within her chest. She was so close. She just to reach a little further…
For the first time since entering the Astral, Weiss felt a spark of energy pulse through her. An essence. She spoke her commands and the Astral obeyed.
"Here!"
Immediately, she opened her eyes… and there she was.
Winter Schnee lay still on the medical table, now trapped in the endless void with her. Hovering just above Winter's chest, Weiss saw a glowing, powerful source of energy. The words seemed to come to her lips automatically. Soul. She was staring at Winter's Soul. Weiss's gaze drifted down to Winter's strained face. Even if it was just a spiritual representation of her, she could still see how much pain she was in. Weiss sighed.
"Don't worry, Winter. I'm here for you. I'll fix this."
Weiss still didn't know how, but she was on the right track. The Astral seemed to respond to her wishes. It was her world now, after all. As long as she remembered that, she would be okay. Step one was easier than she anticipated. She doubted it would be that easy going forward.
Now what?
Weiss gently reached out her hand, guided by wisdom from a life that wasn't hers. She gently scooped up Winter's Soul, holding it in her palm. She could sense the life coming from within and all of its torment. They clawed at her thoughts like ravenous beasts. It terrified her, but she again shook off her fears.
When she was in here last, the Reveler had taken her memories and constructed an entire world out of it. It stood to reason she could do the same with those she pulled into her world. That was the next step. Winter's mind was in chaos. She had to go even deeper. No, not right. She had to bring the chaos to her. She let her body guide her once more. Her ghostly fingers dipped into the energy, and she heard Winter's voice whisper her name. Weiss grabbed the essence that was within, and with determination, she thrust the Soul out into the Astral around her.
"Release!"
From the darkness, a world formed. The flickering sparks turned to marble and stone, stacking on top of themselves into spires. In every direction, built up and expanding from nothing, came rooms, statues, paintings, sounds, and sights of her homeland. The twirling nebulas overhead evaporated into a calming, blue sky. The Gods shrank out of view. Bits of energy rained down and transformed into a light snowfall. Brick-by-brick, atom-by-atom, the world of Winter's memories became constructed around her. The darkness disappeared all but entirely, and with it vanished the numbness. The warm sun hit Weiss's face. Smells of garden flowers. Weiss's feet gently lowered until they touched a paved floor beneath her. The glow faded away. Weiss took a deep breath once more, finally allowed to exist.
Winter was gone with the Astral, but in its place was the Schnee Manor, built perfectly to Weiss's recollection. Her encounter with her father and brother in the same building just hours earlier stained her experiences, but she buried those feelings. The memories of the Reveler's torture in a similar hallucination were still fresh, but Weiss buried those, too. She promised herself this time would be different. Whatever demons she found on the other side, she would be ready for them. Weiss cautiously opened the front door of the Schnee Manor and stepped into Winter's Soul.
When she opened the door, she only saw chaos.
The insides of the Schnee Manor had been gutted, twisted, and reconfigured. The foyer was replaced with about thirteen different rooms stitched together, blending into themselves. Desks, chairs books, statues, chandeliers, toilets, bedposts—all thrown about on the walls and ceilings, stuck together, pieces shattered, floating around in a void. Staircases looped into themselves against the far wall. The off-white colors seemed to melt yellow. The entire room was filled with the sound of a high, piercing screech, like running nails against a chalkboard. Weiss held her ground but shuddered against the onslaught of sound. This was the state of Winter's mind—not from her Father's influence, but her own.
"Winter… where are you?"
There were few paths in the Schnee Manor available to her. Most of the door has been replaced by chaotic versions of her sister's memories. The paths that remained were no better. What was once a straight path to her sister's bedroom now curved upward, bursting through the ceiling. The road to the kitchen was upside down. Through the windows, she could see a nothingness that extended forever. Combing the mansion room by room would be a task that would drain the rest of her time. Instead, fearless of the things that may have lurked within, Weiss screamed.
"Winter! Winter! Can you hear me!"
Weiss was met with silence. She screamed even louder, as much as her voice could take.
"Winter! Please! Where are you!"
Underneath the high screeching, underneath the confusion—Weiss heard a scream. It was all she needed.
. Weiss took off sprinting down one of the few remaining corridors, one that slowly rotated as she raced down the distorted path. The familiar paintings of her ancestors that lined the halls were blurred and smudged. With every step, the screeching grew louder. So too did the screams. They were etched with struggle and horror, and they only pushed Weiss even faster. Even though the hall was distorted, swirling with merged memories, she carved her way toward the scream undeterred. It felt like every step pulled her a mile deep into the mansion. For once, Weiss could hear her own heartbeat.
The path ended at the door to Winter's bedroom. It was half-sunk into the floor, the knob barely a few inches above the ground. Weiss pressed her ear against it. Winter screamed again from within.
"Winter!"
Weiss bent over and grabbed the doorknob, but it would not budge. It shouldn't have tried to resist her. With a fearsome grunt, Weiss booted the door with her cybernetic leg, breaking the structure off its hinges. She kicked it again, and it fell inward, revealing a new realm of glowing light. Weiss swung herself through the narrow opening into a new room of the Manor.
When Weiss landed in the new space and rose back to her feet, she realized she wasn't in the Manor at all. The scenery had changed. No longer a twisted remnant of her past it was a location she was unfamiliar with. The screeching became muffled. Sterile rows of chairs were on all sides. A large glass pane was in front of her. Weiss tentatively approached it. As she pressed her fingertips against the glass, she gazed forward. She was in the viewing booth of an operating theater. Several yards below was the surgery room. She saw a host of medieval medical tools, overwhelmingly bright lights, and a chair in the center where a young, white-haired woman was strapped down against her will. An aura-drain collar was closed around her neck.
Weiss screamed her sister's name, but no one could hear her.
Two figures watched over her as she struggled against her leather restraints. One—her father, watched the trapped Huntress with quiet discontent. The other was a man Weiss didn't recognize. A scrawny, tan doctor with a thick mustache and thin, heartless eyes. He tapped at the sides of Winter's head like playing a musical instrument. Winter squirmed in revulsion as she pulled against her bonds.
"I'll kill you, you fucking bastard!" Winter growled. "When I'm out of here, I'll tear your fucking heart out!"
"Now, now, Winter. Language," Jacques said with a shake of his head. "This behavior isn't fitting of someone of your stature."
"She's quite the fighter, isn't she?" the scrawny man said, his deep voice dripping with arrogance.
"I hope you don't dimmish that trait, Arthur," Jacques said pointedly. "She needs direction, but I still intend to get a lot of use out of her."
"You have the same doubts of me Ironwood had," Arthur said dismissively. He forcefully tapped Winter's cranium. "My work is perfect. She will be as loyal as a hound as and as vicious as a fox when I'm through with her."
"She'd better be. I just cut one daughter out of my will. I'd hate to do it again."
"You won't get away with this!" Winter hissed. Her icy eyes rolled up to see her father above her, and even in her position of powerlessness, she spoke with fury. "When I get out of this, I'm going to—"
"You're going to do nothing," Jacques said. He knelt down beside Winter's face and spoke coldly. "This is all your fault, Winter. You interfered in a matter you weren't supposed to, and the worst part is now Weiss is going to suffer because of you. Do you not understand that? All of that bravado just made things worse for her. I've already received offers for her vastly worth more than her actual value."
Winter stammered. "You… you wouldn't…"
"Oh, I would… and I will," Jacques nodded. "And whatever happens to her, you're going to support it. You will nod your head and follow my orders and you will do it with a great big smile on your face. Arthur here is going to make sure that you never act out of line ever again. It's going to be quite glorious. And, with Weiss out of the way, the four of us can be one big, happy family again."
Winter bared her teeth and tried to bite her father's smug face, the only act of defiance she could manage. She could not move her neck to reach him. Jacques just sighed.
"Act like a dog, and you will get fixed like a dog," he said calmly. He stood up, cupping her cheeks in her palms. He leaned down and smiled over her. It almost seemed loving when he talked, gentle and fatherly. "One day, Winter, you will thank me for what I've done. In the meantime… just smile and be grateful."
Jacques leaned down and kissed Winter on the forehead. Her eyes started to water as he turned and left her alone in the operating theater. Once he was out of view, all semblance of his existence disappeared. The memory was over, but Winter and Arthur remained. Weiss continued to watch.
Arthur sighed distastefully. "Such an ugly man, isn't he? To be honest, I never really cared for him. Pays damn well, though." He turned and hovered over his selected medical tools. "And since we're being honest… I haven't actually done this with a human yet. The rats never survived past the five-month mark. My working theory is they simply lack the resolve. Not a problem with you."
"Watts… l-listen to me," Winter said desperately. "Whatever he's paying you, I'll—"
"Oh, it's not money. It's respect," Arthur admitted. "Some people in this Kingdom don't trust my intellect. This is a simple chance to prove them wrong. Let's not pretend like I actually care for your well-being." He picked up a long needle filled with clear fluid. He tapped it several times to remove any air pockets. "And again, since we're being honest… you're going to have to be awake for this…"
Weiss had seen enough. Her fury boiled over. She punched the glass as hard as she could. When it didn't break, she threw herself into it, again and again, screaming violently with each attempt.
"Come on, break!"
Arthur hovered over Winter. Her eyes grew wide with fear.
"Break!"
He lowered the needle to her neck.
"Dammit!" Weiss clenched her fist. She pulled back and focused her energy. Her melodies swarmed around her, and their golden radiance punctured through the glass. A million shards rained down onto the operating theater, but neither Winter nor Arthur reacted. The memory would keep playing until it was truly interrupted. Weiss was keen to finish it. She leaped down into the main chamber, chains spread behind her like golden wings. When she landed, she summoned the chains forward—they sliced through Arthur's head, and the doctor suddenly turned to dust. The needle fell to the ground and shattered. Weiss sprinted over to Winter, and without thinking, cut through her bonds and broke the collar around her neck. Winter seemed shaken as Weiss picked her up and held her close.
"Winter? Are you okay?" she asked. Winter didn't respond. The elder Huntress looked around the room as if freshly broken from a trance. The memory she was trapped within hadn't fully melted from her consciousness. Weiss took her face and tried to shake some sense into her. "Winter, it wasn't real. You're safe now. Can you hear me?"
Winter looked through Weiss, still unsure of her place. Then, the trauma disappeared. Then, her senses returned to her.
Then, so did all of her anger.
Winter shoved Weiss away from her. "Get away from me!"
Weiss stumbled backward. Winter tried to stand up but immediately fell to her knees. Weiss rushed to her side.
"Winter, listen—"
"What did you do to me? Where the hell am I?" Winter grabbed her head in pain, looking around frightened.
"Winter, breathe. It's okay," Weiss promised.
Winter didn't know how anything was okay. She didn't fucking feel okay. The last thing she remembered was her body betraying her. She remembered choking in that strange man's shop. She remembered the chains around her neck. And before that… Weiss's teammates shattering her leg. Those traitors. Monsters. They had ruined everything. They hurt her. Why would they…
How could they…
But then, there was everything else from that memory. Her Father. Watts. That hatred. No…
No…
Winter gripped her head tightly. It was all too much for her. She didn't understand. She didn't understand. She needed to get out of his place. Get out and go back to normal, whatever the hell normal was. Gods, why did everything hurt so badly…
Weiss rushed to Winter's side. She saw the agony carved into Winter's face. She held her gently, but Winter shoved her away again.
"Get away!"
"Winter… Winter, please, listen to me," Weiss pleaded. "I know this is probably so much to take in, but I promise I can explain everything."
"No. No, you… you…" Winter seethed. She tried to stand up, but the pain overtook her. She stumbled, knocking over a tray of medical tools. "This isn't happening… you aren't… I can't trust you…"
"Winter—"
Winter suddenly burst into a sprint, running down the hall her father had disappeared through earlier.
"Winter!"
Weiss immediately gave chase down the darkened corridor. She should have known this wasn't going to be easy. Not only was Winter trapped inside a world she could barely comprehend, but she had only just been freed from Jacques's control, assuming their plan had worked at all. If the damaged Astral wasn't evidence enough, Winter's thoughts were a cyclone of contradictions. Escaping this Manor wasn't going to be enough. Weiss realized that now. She was going to have to make Winter listen to reason—which meant having Winter listen to the woman who just kidnapped and assaulted her. Weiss gritted her teeth and ran faster. It was too late to complain.
Winter burst through the door at the end of the corridor and immediately slid to a halt. In front of her was the kaleidoscopic nightmare of her own mind. Stairways ran off in every direction. Winter could barely process the surreal imagery in front of her. She heard Weiss's footsteps behind her.
Kill her.
Hold her.
The two thoughts occurred simultaneously, and a searing pain ripped through Winter's skull. She needed to get away. Away from Weiss. Away from this hell. Just before Weiss could catch up to her, Winter took off sprinting down one of the staircases.
"Dammit!" Weiss hissed as Winter just escaped her grasp. Weiss took off after her again, keeping up the pace. "Winter, stop! Listen to me!"
"Leave me alone!"
Weiss nearly caught up with Winter on the stairs, but Winter jumped to another set just out of reach. She took off sprinting in the opposite direction, seemingly running sideways along the wall. Weiss clenched her fist, readying her chains, but she stopped herself. She couldn't tie Winter down. Not again. She needed to get through to her with her words.
"Winter, you can't leave!" Weiss shouted after her. "We are literally stuck inside your head. Unless you calm down, you'll mind will keep breaking itself apart!"
"Father… where's Father…" Winter muttered to herself, searching frantically for a door amidst the endless staircases. "He… he'll know what to do." A sharp pain rattled through her skull. Winter screamed. "Where is he?"
"Wait! Don't—"
A bright light emerged from the center of the room and engulfed the Manor. Weiss felt a blast of energy ripple across her skin. She shut her eyes tight as Winter was swallowed whole. When she opened them, she saw she had been teleported to a new section of the Manor, one formed more tightly out of her sister's memories.
She was in her Father's office, filled with books he had never read and treasures he didn't appreciate. He sat in one of his reclining chairs as Winter stood stoically behind him. While her posture was straight and formal, her face contorted with disgust.
"You want to make her do what?"
"You have done it. I have done it," he said calmly. "She has to understand there are consequences for her failure."
"You're going to kill her!"
Weiss didn't need any further context to know what this memory was about. A phantom pain returned to her missing eye. She stepped forward, careful not to interfere until the moment was right.
"If she dies, it will only be because she was too weak. That's the beauty of the God's Arm."
"This is… you can't do this," Winter said, horrified. "She's your daughter. How could you—"
"I do what I do for my family," Jacques snapped. "Don't you get that? Or are you so blinded by your love for your sister that you can't understand how she's dragging us all down? This is about blood. Our blood!" Jacques pounded his chest. "Think about that! This family is as strong as it is because we hold ourselves to a standard. She is embarrassing us. If she dies, then at least she will die with some honor, rather than rotting away in some hospital from a fucking soul disease."
Winter held her tongue. Her Gods commanded them to live and die by the sword. They required sacrifice. They demanded that the weak be purged and the strong thrive. But this… her own sister… she couldn't…
"Father, I have to recommend—"
"I have spoken!" Jacques shouted. "What are you going to do about it?"
Winter's gaze narrowed.
"You are to say nothing about this, understand?" Jacques instructed firmly. "I don't want to hear a single word."
Winter's fists clenched behind her back. Something new was welling inside of her, something that went against everything she had ever believed in. She felt an urge to break her father's jaw. She wanted to tear down the shelves and destroy everything in the room. She said nothing when her father ordered Weiss's modifications, and when he forced her through vicious training, and when he shouted her down and demeaned her at every opportunity. Through all of that, she convinced herself that Weiss's suffering would be worth something. How could she not have seen what a fool she was? Now, faced with Weiss's potential death, she was just supposed to stand by and be silent again. On her duty as a Huntress, as a sister, she swore she would—
"Ahhh!"
Winter screamed in pain again and fell back to her knees. The memory paused, her Father's unmoving face stuck in a half-twisted sneer. Her present memories returned to her, and once again, the realization of what she was doing struck her.
This… this was wrong. Those feelings toward Father, all that hatred… no, it was wrong. She couldn't be feeling them. Father was right. He had to be right. Everything he had ever done was for them. She had to push away that vengeance. It… it made her sick. The sheer thought of hurting her father was like someone sticking a knife into the back of her throat. And yet that revulsion kept coming through her. No matter how badly she fought against it, it wanted to force her gaze upon it.
"Winter—"
And then there was her.
"Winter, he brainwashed you. Don't you remember?"
No. No, that was a lie.
"Father brainwashed you because you wouldn't let him hurt me. Your mind is trying to remember who you really are. That's why it's showing you this."
"Get… get out of my head…"
"You're trying to fight it because that's what he programmed into you. But you don't have to, anymore. We got that out of you."
Got it… no. It couldn't be. Stop lying.
"You have to accept it—"
Winter's eyes snapped open, and she took a swing at Weiss's head.
"Stop talking!"
Weiss ducked out of the way, but Winter's anger had turned fully onto her.
"Calm down!"
"Calm down? You kidnapped me!" Winter charged at Weiss, and the younger sister was forced to duck to avoid hurting Winter any further. "You tied me down and had your friends mutilate me!" Winter grabbed onto Weiss's collar and threw her against one of the bookshelves. She collapsed into a pile of pages. Winter pinned her down by her neck. "You tried to mess with my mind again! I expected that from him, Weiss, but never from you!"
"I'm… I'm so sorry, Winter," Weiss pleaded. "I know I hurt you, and I know I betrayed your trust. What I did was wrong."
Winter gasped in pain. "You… you couldn't protect me. I needed you to protect me, and you couldn't."
"I know! I know, just…" Weiss cried. "I needed to save you, Winter. This was the only way."
"Save me. No, I—" Winter released Weiss and grimaced. "I didn't need saving. Everyone always tried to do what was best for me. My opinion never mattered to anyone, and now, even you…"
No, that wasn't right. She should be thankful someone took her mind from her. It only ever messed up. But then…
"You're right," Weiss said quickly, seeing the doubt come over her sister. "It was wrong for me to change your mind without your consent. You should be the one in control of your life. Not me, not Father, not anyone else. You have to stay in control."
"No… I'm not in control. He's—"
"We removed the chip from your brain," Weiss confessed. "We did it. It's gone. You… you don't have to listen to him anymore. Don't you see? You're free now."
Free? No… that was impossible. She couldn't… it couldn't…
Where were the voices? Where was her sense of right and wrong?
Where was Father?
Winter growled, pulling back her fist. She planned to drive it straight into Weiss's face. Her sister deserved it. She deserved it more than anyone. And yet, Weiss refused to play defense. She didn't even block. She would let Winter beat her to a bloody pulp as her penance. Anything to awaken Winter's defiance. As Winter prepared to strike her sister, to finally land an impact on the woman that was haunting her, she looked deep into Weiss's eyes. The scar on Weiss's face seemed more prominent than ever—the scar she couldn't prevent.
Winter screamed once more.
Another flash of white light engulfed them. The world around them disappeared. When Weiss opened her eyes, Winter was gone. Weiss took a deep breath, thankful to be unharmed. Any relief she had faded when she realized where she was.
When Winter was twenty-two years old, she had freshly graduated from Atlas Academy. General Ironwood wanted her immediately placed into a Regent Commander position within his forces, but her father had other demands. It was necessary that Winter prove herself to her ancestors before she served her Kingdom. She didn't mind. In fact, Weiss distinctly remembered her confidence. Winter insisted she would be one of the few to see the Trials through to the end. The confidence wasn't unearned. She graduated top of her class. Her proficiency with a blade was unmatched. Her command of the battlefield displayed an experience far beyond her years. Weiss was ignorant enough to believe her confidence.
Of course, Winter's run at the God's Arm didn't end with glory. It ended at the Fifth Trial—one which was now playing out again before Weiss's eyes.
The Librarian's summon was a strange creature. It was a twelve-foot-long slug creature, tall and wide as a person. Its flesh, rippled and stagnated, was a mushy purple and red. A thousand stubby legs like black claws nestled beneath its torso. Its face was the cross between a langoustine and a shark: bulbous, extended pinpoint eyes that poked a foot out of its head, long uneven whiskers, a misshapen spiky nose, and a flat, smiling mouth with dozens of rows of teeth. Two large arms stuck out of either end around its head, but did not end in claws; rather, its fingers with a hundred sharp tendrils, each ending in small barbs. History, scholarship, and theology had long studied the relationship between the Librarian and the Gnashfish—why a deity whose focus was on science and the preservation of historical knowledge would have an extinct sea creature as its spirit animal. The distinction never mattered to Weiss, and in this moment, it didn't matter to Winter. All that mattered was staying alive.
A task that Winter gradually realized she would fail.
The tendrils shot out in any direction, creating a maze of barbs that cut off Winter at every turn. Winter was a quick fighter, ruthless and agile. Against the other four monsters, she was able to outtravel them at every turn. The Gnashfish was no such enemy. Winter slashed every tendril as they came, but the slightest mistake resulted in a hundred tiny needles rammed into her flesh. The tendrils encircled her, cutting off her escape. Weiss saw the fear grow in her eyes as she saw the world in front of her engulfed by flesh. Weiss knew the next steps of the battle like the back of her hand.
Winter would try to burn away the tendrils with fire Dust. The incoming blaze would cover the room in smoke. In her blindness, Winter would back into a tendril that broke her remaining supply of Dust. Another tendril would catch her leg, ensnaring her. She would cut off three tendrils that came from overhead, but in doing so, one would fall and catch on her hand. The pain from the barbs would cause her to drop her weapon. Helpless, the creature would drag into its maw, where it would bite off her right leg at the knee. Winter would still attempt to fight as it tried to eat her other leg. Her left leg would break from the pressure of two competing tendrils. Her right arm would rip across the seam from the barbs. She would go for one of the creature's eyes with her left hand—it would bite it clean off at the shoulder. The Trial would end with Winter in a bloody heap.
Weiss saw the battle play out as her memory described, though now, instead of observing Winter's injuries, she saw her face as she was dragged toward the Gnashfish's mouth. She saw the horror, of course, but also regret. She never realized it before. Winter had freely given herself into the Trials, thrown away a prestigious military career to carry her family legacy. She had bet on herself, and she had come up far short. No matter how hard she tried, she was never going to defeat the legacy that haunted them for generations. In the end, it would always consume her. Why even bother fighting the inevitable?
Winter yelled in horror as her right leg was pulled into the creature's mouth. The endless rows of teeth welcomed Winter's leg into an endless, dripping cavern. Winter prepared for the bite. Instead, Weiss flew forward, a golden chain in hand, and pierced through the monster's eye.
The Gnashfish released Winter from its hold, its tentacles flailing in every direction. Winter crawled away in terror, her awareness returning. Weiss pierced the beast's flesh with her chains, pinning its arms to the ground. She expected it to vanish like the other memories, but it resisted her. The Astral was solidifying the longer she stayed within it. She had more of a time limit than she thought.
"Weiss, what are you doing?"
"I don't care if it's not real," Weiss stated. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you in here."
"No, I… this is wrong!" Winter begged. "You're not supposed to be here. None of this should be happening."
"Winter, get a hold of yourself," Weiss demanded. "This place is going to destroy you if you can't get a grip. Your mind is literally tearing itself apart as speak. You can't give in to it!"
"Why? Why not?" Winter asked tearfully. Everything hurt so damn much. The constant push and pull of memories, her conflicting feelings toward her sister, the reality of what her father had done to them time and time again—it was pushing her past her breaking point. She sat upright, knees close to her chest, head in her hands as the world screeched around her. "Everything… everything in my life has been a failure. I couldn't beat this. I couldn't save you—I couldn't even save myself. Why are you trying so hard to change this? Why can't you just accept that this is how things are supposed to be?"
"Because they aren't," Weiss said, struggling against the pull of the monster. "We have a chance to make things better. We can make things normal."
"Nothing is ever going to be normal between us, Weiss," Winter cried. "Father won't let us go. We can't escape him. We can't fight back. Everything is just going to fall apart again, and then I… I can't protect us from him. I can't, Weiss!"
"Then we'll protect each other! I know we can! I don't care what we have to sacrifice! We are going to make it out of here, and then—"
Suddenly, the Gnashfish broke free of Weiss's bindings. She couldn't react before the beast lunged forward and clamped its teeth down on her arm.
Winter called out Weiss's name in horror. Weiss screamed in pain. The teeth chewed straight through her flesh but became caught on the metal enhancements, preventing them from cracking through the bones. The Gnashfish roared and leaned back, pulling Weiss up into the air. If it wouldn't break Weiss's arm, it would tear the flesh off through motion. It swung its head and forth, loosening the flesh around Weiss's shoulder. Blood poured down onto the white floor like a faucet, but Weiss refused to give up. She clenched her fist inside of the beast's mouth. More golden chains sprouted from within its gullet, bursting forth from inside its head.
Yet the beast did not let go. No matter how many chains pierced through its flesh, it refused to yield. Weiss felt the muscles in her upper arm tear off the bone. She couldn't resist any longer. Her body went limp.
The Gnashfish chomped again on her arm. The metal weakened underneath its power. It reared back its head for a finishing blow.
A quick slash from a sword cut its stalked eye clean off its head.
Weiss fell from the beast's mouth but was caught in her sister's arms before she hit the floor.
"You won't… harm her…"
Winter lowered Weiss gently to the ground.
"You won't harm her!"
She lunged back into action. The Gnashfish tried to intercept her with its tendrils, but she slipped past and landed on its head. She drove her sword deep into its brain, stabbing over and over through its fleshy shell. She let the rage overtake her. With each stab, she imagined the beast was something else. Father. Watts. The Aspects. Stiltskin. Even Weiss, just once. Just for the hell she had put her through that day. The beast squelched beneath her, purple fluid spurting and bubbling out from its wound. It tried to raise its tendrils to knock her down, but more golden chains restrained its movements.
Weiss, even in her weakened state, wasn't done fighting. If anything, seeing her sister come to life pushed her harder.
"Come on, Winter! You got this!"
She thrust down her arm, bringing a hail of chains to strike through the beast, stitching each of its tendrils to the floor. Winter continued stabbing away until its screaming stopped and its blood was frothing. Even then, her fury didn't die out. It had taken away her leg, her arm, her pride. She didn't just want it dead. She wanted them back. She would reach into its stomach and take them from it if she had to. No one was going to hold her back from becoming the woman she was always meant to be.
She was Winter Schnee.
She was the peak of her family's legacy.
No one could stop her.
Not Team RWBY.
Not the Gnashfish.
Not her—
Winter's eyes widened. Something popped within the back of her head, a tension that could no longer be pulled taught. The Gnashfish disintegrated beneath her feet. The world started to rumble around her. The two lost their balance as the high-pitched screeching that underpinned their reality rose to its highest pitch.
"What the hell?" Weiss called. Winter didn't answer her.
It was still too much.
The melted colors from the outside of the manor seeped into the white room of the Trial chamber. Cracks burst through the walls. A horrid tremor shook the very foundation. Winter held herself close.
She couldn't break free.
A new sound erupted over everything else. A voice, as horrible and poisonous as it had always been. A voice that haunted Winter every waking second. The voice of her father—calling her name.
"Winter."
"No, I… I'm so sorry."
"Winter."
"I didn't mean to fail you. I didn't."
"Winter."
"Winter!"
Weiss screamed for her sister, but it was too late. The Manor's floor cracked open, revealing the infinite Void of the Astral beneath. The space between the sisters spread out. Tiles, books, and all pieces of furniture were sucked from within the Manor's halls and were pulled deep into the abyss, vanishing from sight. Weiss struggled to keep her balance, but Winter had resigned hope.
Even when she fought back.
Even when Weiss removed the chip.
He would always be there.
"Winter."
The voice shook the entire room. The ground beneath Winter fell away. She gave Weiss one final glance. The word goodbye became stuck in her throat.
Weiss felt helpless as Winter slipped.
She plummeted into the abyss.
She tried to scream, but the Astral pulled her voice away.
Weiss's heart broke—then, she lunged toward the edge.
"No, you don't!"
A single golden chain launched deep into the void. It wrapped itself around Winter's arm, holding her in place fifteen feet beneath the broken manor. Winter looked up and shouted in panic as she dangled over oblivion.
Weiss growled as she planted her feet and held onto the chain for dear life. The pull of the abyss was too much for her. She felt herself slipping, inch by inch, toward the edge.
"W-Weiss! Don't!" Winter called to her. "It's going to drag us both in!"
"I've got you!" Weiss growled, pulling against the call of the void with all her strength. Her arm was destroyed. The strain of maintaining the Astral was wearing heavily on her. If the universe thought that made her weak, it hadn't learned a damn thing.
"Weiss, please! Just let go!" Winter pleaded. "I'm not going to lose—"
"Like hell I am!"
Six more chains sprouted from the floor. They wrapped themselves around Weiss's torso and embedded themselves into the back wall, the ceiling, anything they could get ahold of. Even when the floor beneath Weiss started to break apart, they held her up on golden wings.
"Weiss."
Her blue eyes blazed with fire.
"You can't win this."
That voice wasn't real. It was Winter's Soul. Her world. She tried to tell herself that, but her sensations were overriding her logic.
"Drop her. She wants it."
Weiss leaned her head back and roared. "Leave us alone!"
She placed one hand over the other, pulling up the chain.
"Our whole lives… you've tried to define what we are."
She gripped the chain even tighter.
"You've broken us. Abused us."
Tighter.
"I am not letting you get away with that. You aren't going to win."
Winter grew heavier in her grasp, but she kept pulling. She summoned more chains to root her in place.
"You are nothing, Weiss—"
"Will you just shut the fuck up already!" Weiss screamed back into the void. "You aren't in control here! You will never be in control of us ever again! I don't care what part of me breaks, what you replace, how much you threaten us and tear us apart! We are more than you will ever make us into! We aren't guilty of your crimes, and we aren't going to suffer for your mistakes. So listen closely…"
She pulled harder, her strength rapidly failing. Foot by foot, she drew Winter closer to her.
"We are not your pets."
She was so close.
"We are not your property."
She felt the abyss weaken.
"This is our life—not yours."
Pull.
"So get the fuck…"
Pull.
"…out of…"
Pull.
"…my sister's head!"
The chain snapped.
Weiss was thrown back against the wall. She collided hard, knocking the wind out of her lungs. Her chains dematerialized as she rested on the hard surface. Her father's voice vanished. The screeching, the rumbling, the collapse—it had all stopped. She was left alone in the ruins of the collapsed Schnee Manor, alone with the silence. Weiss struggled to pull herself upright. Trying to apply any pressure to her arm just caused her to fall back down in agony. Her eyes lazily rolled to the broken floor where Winter fell. She saw nothing there.
No one.
She struggled to control her breathing. She waited for the world to move again. She felt her tears coming.
She opened her mouth, but she let out an empty wheeze.
Then, a hand shot out of the abyss, clinging to the broken floorboards. Another joined in. And slowly but surely, Winter pulled herself out of the darkness.
"Winter!"
Weiss scrambled to her feet. She raced over to the abyss to help her sister, but she didn't need to. With a grunt, Winter managed to hoist herself onto solid ground, the broken chain still tied around her forearm. She rolled onto her back, thankful to be alive. She didn't have time to catch her breath before Weiss threw herself on top of her, holding her close.
"Oh Gods, Winter… Winter, I…" She hugged her sister close as the tears flowed freely. Winter groaned as she pushed Weiss off of her. Even now, her bitterness hadn't fully faded.
"Why?"
"W-Wha—"
Winter pulled herself up and grabbed Weiss by her shoulders. Their eyes met. "After everything I did to you… everything I couldn't do… why would you still try to help me?"
Weiss didn't understand the question. Was it not obvious?
"Answer me. Please," Winter asked desperately. "What about me was worth nearly killing yourself for?"
Weiss gently took Winter's hands off her shoulders and held them tight. "Don't you get it? You're my sister," Weiss answered. "Everything…"
Weiss's eyes shot open, and she fell to the ground with a dull thud. Stiltskin was there to catch her before her head hit the hard floor.
"Whoa! Are you all right, miss?" he asked gently. He cradled her in his arms as she slowly came to. The poor workshop came back into view. Stiltskin's bizarre face watched over her. She saw Pyrrha staring at her, still strung up on the wall in her golden prison.
"Huh? What?"
"What are you trying to do?" he asked. "Do you need to try again?"
Weiss shook her head. How much time had passed in the real world? A few minutes? No, not even that. If she had seen the world from Stiltskin's perspective, only a single moment would have passed between the flash of light signaling her descent into the Astral, and her spontaneous return. To her, it felt like waking up from a long sleep.
Stiltskin helped Weiss to her feet, but his focus hadn't shifted. Winter was spasming just a few seconds ago. If Weiss had failed, it meant he needed to get back to work. Her mind wouldn't heal itself. He returned to his station just behind her head and he reached forward. He was just about to begin when Winter suddenly gasped and sat upright, propelled by a great shock. Her breaths were ragged, eyes wide and shimmering, skin covered in sweat. She just sat there for a long moment, breathing.
"Miss… Miss Winter?" Stiltskin asked carefully. He walked into her field of view. "Are you… are you still sick?"
He looked for any signs of chaos, but he found none. Winter's attention wasn't all there yet, but wherever it was, it was unified. She stared down at herself, trying to stabilize her heartbeat. Pyrrha watched the scene in quiet shock, thankful yet terrified at the sudden change in her condition.
Slowly, Winter lifted her hands, examining them. She gradually turned toward Stiltskin, staring at the strange man who had tampered with her mind. Just as gradually, she turned away from him to the woman who was lying on the floor. Winter's breathing turned ragged as she started to sob. She climbed off the medical chair, crawled along the floor, and pulled Weiss tightly into her embrace. She nestled her younger sister into her neck as her eyes turned red from tears.
She cried without saying a word, keeping Weiss as close as she could.