The cellar became the scene of a tense standoff. Summer stood alone in the center of a circle of Huntsmen, Huntresses, and a Hunter. She had her scythe held out hugely at her side— it was, to say the least, prodigious, and looked even bigger in Summer's hands than it had Ruby's (which didn't really make sense, considering).

You'd think she's got something to compensate for.

Slowly, one of her eyes turned to glare obviously in the other one's direction.

What?

CEASE FANTASIZING OF MY MOTHER

Okay but she literally just—

CEASE

Don't be mad at me cuz you've got a—

I BEG OF THEE CEASE

Hot mom!

Her right arm punched her left cheek. Of course, since she had a knife in that hand, she ended up cutting herself pretty badly and getting concerned looks from everyone but her mum. Ruby's mum. The cut healed with the same freakish speed as everything else did. If nothing else, at least being full of Ruby kept her alive.

Summer eyed them.

"Ruby…" Qrow said slowly, holding his arms out with an easing gesture. "Just calm down. I don't know what's up, but this isn't the time to—"

"It's not Ruby," Raven stated, her voice coming through grit teeth. "It's Summer. Or something. Somehow. I don't know."

Qrow looked at her with confusion. "So… that's a bad thing? Why do we all have our weapons out? Summer's not dead, she's stuck in Ruby. We can figure this out."

"Because she just gave us what sounds an awful lot like a manifesto," Raven claimed. "Somethings wrong with her."

The Ruby-bound woman laughed. "He's right. Shouldn't you be happy to see your wife?"

Raven reddened. "Not if she just insulted my daughter, then body-jacked my other daughter!"

"What're kids for, if not to take care of their parents?"

Yang cracked her knuckles. "Get out of my sister."

Summer rounded on her. "She ate my soul!"

All the muscles in Weiss' shared body went stiff.

You should've told them.

'TIS HARDLY AS THOUGH I ASKED FOR THIS

That's literally not an excuse.

THOU DIDST HIDE IT AS WELL

Which I shouldn't have.

HINDSIGHT

Raven's look ignored Summer's statement. Yang's look, however, set her palest teammate alight. Because Yang knew. Yang knew about Weiss, and right now she was putting one and one together to arrive at a dreadfully obvious two.

You told her your Aura was 'evolving'?! What the hell does that even mean!

ART THOU SATISFIED AT MY DOWNFALL

Implying you were ever upheld.

Thankfully, Yang opted not to murder her right then and there, instead refocusing on the possessed corpse of her sister. Summer's eyes danced between them. She must've seen the writing on the wall, judging by the twitch of her legs.

Unfortunately, the writing did not tell her to 'get out.' Instead, it must've said something like, 'disappear into a plume of petals, do some weird ninja shit to wrench the knife out of Wuby's hands, then use that knife to hold your own daughter— along with her partner— hostage,' because that was exactly what Summer did.

Nobody had even seen the movement, only turning as Weiss' body started to get pulled out of the circle, backing away deeper into the cellar with Ruby's KNIF at her throat. Ruby's Aura didn't rise this time. Not against her own body.

I'm going to kill your mum.

THOU WILT FIND NO OBJECTION FROM I

Summer had to drag her, since her legs didn't work right.

LET US AMEND THAT

What?

LET US TRY TO MOVE IN CONCERT

PERHAPS WE SHALL BE OFFERED AN OPPORTUNITY TO FIGHT BACK

Against your mum, who— as far as I'm picking up from you, right now— would turn us into sad, meaty party-toys.

SUCH A CREATIVE MIND THOU HAST

We gonna try or not?

AYE

SO LONG AS WE ACT WITH ONE WILL, OUR BODY SHOULD OBEY

Okay, so—

LEFT LEG, SLOWLY BACK

"Sum, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Do not underestimate my willingness to kill a child."

The hostage grunted, "I'm not—"

LEFT. LEG.

I'm thinking about the left fucking leg!

THOU'RT TRYING TO REBUKE MY MOTHER

I ASSURE THEE, SHE CARETH NOT

Fine! Left leg, back— oh look, nothing happened!

TIS THY BODY

THOU SHOULDST LEAD

COUNT THYSELF DOWN

Like, on three, think about left leg?

PRECISELY

She counted up—

COUNT DOWN

She counted down from three. Then she thought really hard about doing something with her left leg. Which was stupid. Obviously, it wasn't going to work, because if it worked—

Her leg jerked back, the hard heel of her dress shoe smacking Summer in the shin and eliciting a hiss of "Ow, you bitch!" from the older (technically younger?) woman.

AGAIN, AND LESSEN THY FERVOR

Right leg?

AYE

They did it again, and this time she felt the moment their wills aligned. For one step— barely even one step— her right leg went back, her foot pushed off the floor, and she managed to not get dragged by her heels.

A— ah! It worked! Holy shit!

THOU DIDST WELL

Y-you did, too!

HARDLY

HUMAN LEGS ARE NOT SO INCONCEIVABLE AS I HAVE… CONCEIVED

Give yourself some credit, damn.

I HAVE YET EARNED IT

See? This is what I'm talking about.

'TIS HARDLY TIMELY FOR—

When we're both crammed in one body, literally trying to work together? I think that's pretty fucking timely!

NOW THOU WOULDST PREFER PARLEY

DIDST THOU MAKE OF THYSELF A WORDSMITH SINCE LAST WE SPOKE

I'm just saying—

SO MANY TIMES HAVE I TURNED OUT MY HEART FOR THEE, AND THOU HAST YET GIVEN ME SO MUCH AS A PAIN

'TWOULD BE PREFERABLE TO THINE UNSHAKEABLE RECALCITRANCE

Summer yanked her, trying to force her along. "Ruby," she seethed. "Cooperate. You think I want to kill you?"

The rebellious urge surged through her all at once— through Ruby, through Weiss— and she ground her feet down, her head thrashing back at the same time to crash into Summer's chin. The woman grunted.

I just want—

IF THOU SAYEST 'THINE OWN PURSUIT OF FULFILLMENT' OR SOMESUCH DRIVEL, I SHALL PUNCH THEE AGAIN

It's true!

WHAT DOST THOU DESIRE

FROM ME, FOR THYSELF

That's not the point!

'TIS THE POINT, DULLARD, OF A RELATIONSHIP

Relationship?

I DESIRE ROMANCE

OF THIS MUCH I HAVE BEEN CLEAR

BE NOT SURPRISED

I thought you wanted to be nemesises again.

NEMESES

Whatever.

'TIS HARDLY A DIFFERENCE TWIXT NEMESIS AND PARTNER

I… guess.

"Hey! Move it! Or I will throw you over my shoulder!"

I guess I want—

A MOMENT

I'm trying to have my emotional thing!

THOU SHALT

I SIMPLY SHALL STALL HER

OBSERVE

A sound crawled up her throat, slipping out over her tongue:

"Sleek."

Summer jerked her. "Move it, Ruby! I don't want—"

"Sleek!"

"To—" Summer's head jerked to the side, noise growling in her throat. "Sul—"

"Slee-ee-ee-eek."

I MUST ADMIT, I FEEL AN ASS

What.

IS IT UNJUST IF THINE ABLEISM BE IN SELF-DEFENCE

What the fuck is 'ableism'.

'TIS—

Are you making up things to be upset about again?

IF I WERE SMART, I WOULD NOT FIND THEE ATTRACTIVE

CONSIDER THYSELF LUCKY I AM NOT

Can I do my thing now?

"Slee—" Summer ground it through her throat as hard as she could. "Ruby, you little asshole!"

I DESIRE ASSAULT

HER FOOT

She instantly knew what she meant, and jammed the heel of her shoe directly into Summer's bird-foot. Ruby's bird-foot. The sound was like a big tortilla chip being broken, and the anguish of it had her throwing Weiss' body to the floor. Realizing that had been the girl's (girls') intention, she hastily threw the knife.

I can—

THOU HAST MY TRUST

The arms went to Weiss, who awkwardly drew up her sword to catch the knife on its flat. The knife fell into her lap.

WILT THOU TAKE THE STAGE NOW

She gulped.

WELL

Summer drew herself up before her, glaring with all the finality of a poised guillotine. She rolled her shoulders, then her neck, eliciting a number of grossly loud pops.

This… may not be the time.

Someone pulled her up to her feet— Yang, judging by what she whispered in her ear: "If you did something to her, you're dead."

"'Twas consensual—" she grit out, stupidly, because why would Yang even believe that, and how the hell was Yang supposed to know it was Ruby who talked stupid now? "I— I promise—"

Yang jerked her up. "Explain after. First, fix it."

She nodded, despite not knowing at all how to 'fix it' beyond, "I think we need to— Summer— mum— she must—" her face twisted up with the two voices twisting in her throat.

"Beat her," Yang incorrectly surmised. "I figured that much."

"Jeez, dude," Blake announced themself, placing a hand on their leader's shoulder. "Wtf Is even going on here."

Raven, too, arrived from outside her peripheral vision, shuffling forward with her sword held in a wary position. She looked at Ruby's body like it was a live bomb. "Sum, whatever you're doing, it's not worth this."

Summer drew back, her scythe flourishing into both hands once more. She bit down on her tics, swallowing them with what looked like visible heartburn, and grunted. "It's— of course it's fucking worth it, you— you idiot— you stupid little girl— you never got it. You never knew what it was like to be the best— the one— you only knew how to be a disappointment." She shored herself up, her monstrous weapon held at her side. A hot, hateful puff of false laughter scraped past her lips. "Like daughter like mother."

Indignance rolled out of Weiss' throat like a tidal wave, unstoppable. "She literally has two mothers! You are definitely part of the problem!" Her hands flew up. "However that's possible!"

DEAR GOD, WEISS

"What! We're all thinking it!"

Blake looked at her, slowly shaking their head. "No, dude, literally nobody is questioning that rn."

Summer smirked. Because she's awful. "You want to know about my—"

"Nay!" squeaked out of Weiss, the girl's body pushing itself out of Yang's arms with a surge of will. "Nay! Not a single one here doth desire to know of thy predilections and theoretical phalluses!"

Summer's smirk faltered. Raven turned, eyeing her. She could feel Yang and Blake's gazes. Qrow did a double-take.

"What?" Whitley said from somewhere behind them, sounding like a kid lost in a supermarket. "I mean, what the fuck?"

Summer reassured her grip on the scythe. Wincing, she forced her broken foot to separate into a wider stance. "Here, look," she offered, glaring at each one of them in turn. "You guys wanna do this?"

Despite nobody wanting to 'do this', none objected.

"Fall upon me as one, fall upon me you all," the woman quoted. "But know that mine is the strength of god, and know that yours will be found wanting."

"We should. We won't get another shot as a team."

"I mean, we're still gonna be sticking together after graduation, right?"

Somehow, it wasn't a question that'd ever come up. Despite the fact almost everyone was thinking it.

Summer chuffed, crossing her arms over her chest. Second beads were laced between her knuckles and looped around her wrist, cruxes dangling from the silver length that hung from her right hand. She'd been sleeping with them on since sophomore year. Nobody was bold enough to ask why.

"Of course we are," she stated, as though anyone doubted where her loyalties would lie. "You'd all be dead without me."

A silence lapsed in the Team STRQ dorm. It was a silence in which the three teammates who were not Summer Rose agreed wordlessly: 'You're right, because you exclusively put us all in situations that are terrible so you can come swooping in like a hero and save the day.'

They all knew it, but none of them said it. Summer was still the best of them. To be on her team, then take yourself off? Suicide— like living with a crutch so long that it's fused to your bones, vascularized.

But maybe, for once, the tournament could give them all a chance to shine.

The Tournament Did Not Give Them All a Chance to Shine

Raven Noct Branwen: first out— pathetic little warrior girl. Fractured skull, intracranial hemorrhage, three broken ribs, pneumothorax, fractured orbital, fractured mandible, fractured humerus, fractured clavicle. Leopold Brighthound of Team KOVL (apparently supposed to be read as 'cobalt', because the names were almost always a 50/50) had a four-headed hammer-flail thing: each strikeface would push in on impact, detonating a charge that made the thing rebound with twice as much force for the next strike. One hit took her to half-Aura. The follow up was twice as bad, shattering through her soul's barrier wholesale and sending her fully out of the ring as a pile of limp, dying bird. Leopold sent her flowers in the hospital, even visited, and they had a fling that Summer only barely threatened his life and the lives of his teammates for.

But they'd won the fight, moving on to the next round with a team of three. Raven always was the weakest link, anyways. Was that why Summer kept her so close? Because she was pathetic and needed to be held on a leash, lest she do something irrevocably stupid and/or get herself killed?

She never did like dogs. Or pets at all, really. Raven was enough.

Taiyang Xiao Long: second out— very surprising, honestly. Summer always had him tabbed as the first one in and last one out, a man of neverending stamina, decent competence, and an undeniable talent for hitting things really hard. Unfortunately for him, he underestimated how much kinetic force he'd loaded onto his Semblance before letting it surge into him, causing him to buff up so hard and fast that most of the muscles on his upper body tore straight off the bone. He hadn't underestimated himself that badly in years. Maybe he just wanted to show off for the tournament, but he ended up laying in hospital right next to Raven, more than half his body a giant, awful bruise.

But they'd still won the fight. The other team was down to only three as well, so the gap wasn't insurmountable after Tai went down. And that was in the middle of the fight, after he'd already tanked all their impressive moves.

The next fight had gone wonderfully. Qrow was always a bit of a sleeper, especially back when he still used a scythe— they had such insane moves together: Impendulum, Feather Fall, Fuck Your Whole Ass And Your Dog, Scarecrow— he was great with that thing.

He tripped over his shoelaces in the semi-finals. This led to him getting smacked out of the ring like a golf ball.

Qrow Noct Branwen: second out. Herniated disc. That was it. To have lost so stupidly, he really deserved worse.

But Summer had won, and gone into the Finals alone.

I HAVE CONCOCTED A PLAN

It'd better be a good one.

IT SHALL BE

BUT FIRST, THINE ARMS

GIVE THEM TO ME

The other Team was a Haven team— CVSS, as in 'Canvas'— with a composition so well-bred that it sounded like fanfiction when Summer read the matchup: Marisol Calavera of Honored Martial fame, Vernon Callows of the Fourth Reformist Havenites, Sylvie of the very first Hunter dynasty, the Arcs, and Simon Stein of the sole Hunting family in all of the Third Archivist sect.

Marisol's Semblance: Epitaph. Generates an afterimage that can exert physicality to strike. This means she can hit twice as many times in quick succession, as she will follow slightly behind her Semblance's projection. Weakness: the afterimage can only ever enact what she's going to do, and she can't deviate from the afterimage's prophecy.

Vernon's Semblance: Limbo. Allows him to become fully intangible and come back whenever he wants to strike. Weakness: poor range on his weapon, and he can't stay intangible for longer than ten seconds.

Sylvie's Semblance: Fay Wiles. Can be activated to force any within range to look directly into her eyes, holding her gaze until she deactivates it. Weakness: She'd be the first one Summer went for.

Simon's Semblance: he does not need to sleep. It doesn't have a name or anything, he just doesn't need to sleep. Ever. Weakness: how hadn't he killed himself yet? Summer definitely would've.

WEISS

THOU'RT… STRONG

What?

THINE ARMS

THOU'RT FEATHERLIGHT AND YET

What?

SO… BEMUSCLED…

Could you fucking focus on not getting us killed?

CVSS had stepped into the arena first, four abreast, grinning and waving to the stands. They looked fresh and rested. Their weapons shone. Their eyes sparked with ambition.

Summer had stepped in about five minutes late, having taken that time to run her Singles trophy to her room and back— the one she'd accepted some ten minutes prior. When she'd won the Singles.

As such, she'd walked back into the arena a haggard, breathless woman. Her hair had been plastered to her face, her skin shining with sweat. Her scythe— usually a shining silver— was still stained grey from all the gunsmoke she hadn't been able to clean off. The belt of autocannon rounds wasn't even full enough to wrap around her neck. Rather, the scant ten or fifteen rounds hung limply from the receiver, her and her weapon smelling acrid with cartridges burnt.

Her cloak had been ripped down the middle in the Singles fight, so it fluttered behind her like a pair of dead, morose wings. The battle had taken so long, sucking her dry over the course of an ungodly ten minutes. Normally, she would've been able to end it in ten seconds.

Alas, she needed to qualify for the Finals. For that, she needed a full Aura. And so, with a full Aura she entered— exhausted, but unharmed.

It had just been her. Five total bodies on the arena floor. The four prodigies before her seemed to come to an understanding one at a time, their smiles falling like dominoes. Marisool first, then Vernon, then Simon, then Sylvie.

Summer had seen Goodwitch in the stands since she couldn't officiate like at Beacon. The woman was waving a huge, bright red finger around, the word 'SUMMER' emblazoned on it. Beside that she held a sign that read 'DON'T HOLD BACK', which Summer couldn't help but laugh at. The sign might as well have said 'YOU CAN DO JUST A LITTLE MURDER'.

She hadn't expected to see anyone else cheering her on. Mother and Father were dead. She'd been an only child. She didn't have any friends besides Qrow, if you could count 'we both use a scythe' as being friends.

But right there, hunched over limp like Glynda's lame shadow, was her partner. For a woman who had been three-quarters dead when she was taken to hospital, she looked remarkably alive. She didn't even have that many bandages on her. Maybe hollow bones healed faster?

Or maybe she just forced herself out of the hospital to be here. Maybe she was still one-half or one-quarter dying, but shoved her way past all the staff— or just outright teleported— to be there for her partner. Maybe Raven was her friend. Or… rival, whatever that girl wanted to call it. Whatever she thought she could be compared to Summer.

But still, it was… nice. When she looked at Raven, and Raven immediately looked away, she felt powerful. Such a proud little bird she'd always been. Now here she was, sneaking glances that fled as soon as she saw that Summer was still staring at her— little more than a sad, wet crow.

Maybe she deserved a reward. Raven had been trying so hard to sleep with her for so long— taking every opportunity that would have them alone together, always the first to throw her weapon down when they fought, despite (read: because of) the fact that Summer could throw her around like a ragdoll. She was always so quick to give up when Summer had her pinned. Always so quick to flick her eyes to Summer's lips. It was pathetic how hard she tried, how far she'd be willing to go, just as long as she didn't have to be the one to ask.

Hell, she could even marry her. Turning her sad documentary of a life into something good would be fun— something to do, at least, with all the money she was going to make off her Hunts.

PICTURE THYSELF AN OBJECT

You want me to… objectify myself? I dunno, seems like you can do that just fine.

WITHHOLD THY SNARK

MINE INTENTION IS LITERAL

Like… an object? As in…

A THING, ONE WITH MOBILITY UNGOVERNABLE

THOU'RT A COORDINATE UPON A GRAPH

INHUMAN— A CALCULUS

Florabel, I didn't know you could talk dirty.

WEISS.

Fine, fine. I'm… math.

She had nearly murdered Sylvie. With her Aura at full, she'd channeled the whole of it into her first swing, coming out of her petal rush with Belaflor's own fury. If she'd put the toe of her blade to the girl, it would've gored through her Aura without resistance. If she'd clotheslined her with the sharp crook, she would've hewn through her intercostals.

But she hit with the false edge instead. It was the merciful thing to do.

Her Aura had buckled nonetheless, famous Arc gold shattering like glass. Her chest caved beneath the blow. She'd go to the hospital with a collapsed lung.

Fear displaced the air Sylvie had once occupied, Summer panting between the remaining three of CVSS like a First Saint. The audience had sucked in a collective breath. Her three foes had held theirs in their lungs (treasuring it while they still could).

The silence had broken with a crisp cheer:

"Yeah, Rose! Beacon gang!"

So odd to hear those words from Goodwitch.

Her eyes had flicked to Raven. The girl was standing, her face tight with pain, teeth bared. Her red gaze was embers, tossing themselves into the dry kindling between Summer's ribs. When their eyes met, Raven hadn't looked away.

She'd definitely reward her later.

Flor—

I HAVE IT

Don't—

I SHAN'T LET HER

THY PAIN COMETH FROM ME ALONE

Vernon had dipped into his Semblance, his fear a palpable thing that Summer could breathe. Marisol had filled the space he fled from, her afterimage bringing its odd, saw-toothed paddle of a weapon to bear against Summer's scythe. Marisol followed half a second after, a jackhammer of double-tap blows that forced Summer into awkward blocking positions to catch Marisol's afterimage while she was still blocking the real Huntress' last attack.

But Summer was nothing if not a good student. She'd stayed up into the wee hours of the morning at hospital, watching bootleg recordings of all CVSS' matches from Raven's bedside— full audio from her speakers, of course, because the only ones who actually needed rest were drugged up to their eyes. Qrow kept moaning and groaning like a bitch, but honestly who cares.

Since Summer had seen all her matches, she'd known Marisol liked to lunge back as soon as she dropped a heavy hit, giving Vernon or Simon room to hit in her wake. Doubtless, Vernon's ghostly form was advancing on Summer, his wrist-mounted blades poised and pointed like scorpion tails. Simon's arm was cocked back to toss his hammer.

Summer wouldn't let them breathe.

She twirled off the line between her and Marisol, enlightening the Third to a quick burst of 20mm that had him staggering, hammer forgotten in favor of his continued viability in this match. Summer let the recoil turn her fully on her heel, her lead hand fleeing the haft. The scythe's momentum flung out long like a weight on a string, tethered only at its end by one of Summer's arms, the greatest extension of its range catching the predictable Marisol as she was forced to follow her afterimage's retreat. She swung the girl's heels out from under her, forcing the soles of her teal-feathered boots to see the sky.

Vernon came from behind. Qrow's advice?

'Funniest fucking thing you can ever do: guy trying to get the drop on you, punch him directly in the nose. Aura or not, he'll make a hilarious noise.'

Tai's input: 'My nose is still offset, you dick.'

Qrow, the lovestruck idiot he was: 'Don't be a pisser, you still look… uh… good.'

Raven, leaning in to conspire through the side of her mouth: 'Wanna ditch the gays and go fight in that sketch alley? There are probably bottles we can stab each other with. Or something.'

Vernon squawked when Summer punched him. Rather reminiscent of the sound Raven had made in that alley, actually.

Did— did I do it?

AYE

THOU DIDST

Why are you quiet now?

MINE AURA, 'TIS DWINDLING

'TWAS THE SAME AS LAST, WHEN THOU DIDST SUMMON THY WENDIGO

THOU WERT SILENCED

Oh. I don't like it.

VERILY

BUT IT IS THE WAY OF IT

Oh I really don't like it now.

THEN WASTE NOT MINE ABILITY

WITH LUCK, SILENCE SHALL NOT MEAN ABSENCE

AFTER ALL, 'TWAS THE SPARK OF THY SOUL IN ME FROM WHICH THOU WERT REVIV'D

Okay… so what am I doing with it.

TAKING WHAT IS MINE

ALL WE NEED IS PATIENCE

Vernon's poor reaction let Summer escape his range, leaping up and over her scythe to stomp both feet heavily into the fallen Marisol's sternum, then jam the scythe's barrel against her chest for a point-blank report of Saint Belaflor's grace. Simon's hammer flew from out of nowhere and struck Summer in the head, but the damage was already done: Marisol's Aura had fallen enough to force her out, and Summer's was still about halfway full. She was left in the arena with a guy who didn't sleep, and a guy who's main power was the ability to pussy out at a moment's notice.

The Teams trophy ended up in her and Raven's bedroom, sitting next to the Singles trophy on the windowsill, sharing the space with the Doubles trophy she and Raven had won the year prior. She liked to look at it every morning. It was a good reminder:

She really was better than anyone else. And the only other person who had the gall to pretend otherwise, she'd put a baby in.

Talk about a long-term investment.

Raven wasn't as good as she used to be, and she used to be okay at best. Qrow wasn't as rusty from being a housepet, but he'd abandoned his scythe a long time ago— he just wasn't good enough without it. He couldn't get in close with his fists, and his stocky guns weren't made for something that moved as fast as Summer could, much less in her daughter's light, young body.

The real problem, surprisingly, was her daughter's team.

The boy with the stupid hair (Blake?) was highly annoying. She kept thinking she'd killed him, only for her scythe to go clean through nothing— that, or the clone she hit would explode. The inconsistency was the annoying thing, and Blake seemed to know it, constantly ducking into Summer's range just to distract her.

Yang filled out all the spaces the annoying, idiot-haired boy left, the two of them fighting like relay partners. Blake ducked out, Yang lunged in, and the flames of her punches kept singing Ruby's annoying arm-feathers. Ruby wasn't strong enough to use the scythe as fast as she needed, she didn't have any bullets, and she wasn't used to standing on her toes all the time.

Weiss was there, too. Weiss and Ruby, which is where the girl belonged: trapped in a Fourth. That's what happens when you abandon your principles. She could barely orchestrate her arms into blocking. She kept tripping over her own feet. It was only because there were four other people that Summer couldn't quite kill her.

Er… defeat her. Ruby's brain was quick to bloodlust. For some reason.