After Salem finished explaining her plans for Penny, Penny had only one response:

"You… are a monster." She did not say this lightly. Before this conversation, Penny had never understood the exaggerated insult. The only real monsters in the world were supposed to be the Grimm. Even Cinder, as obnoxious and reprehensible as she was, still held her irrevocable claim as a human being.

Penny could not say the same about Salem.

"So I've been told, time and time again," Salem replied evenly. "Yet, all I want is to save you from a life of pain and suffering. Is that something a 'monster' would do?"

"You don't want to save me—you want to control me. Turn me into… you." It wasn't enough that Penny wasn't born the way she wanted to be born, with a body she could be proud of inhabiting. Now, not even her own soul could be shaped the way it was supposed to be. "Why can't anyone just let me be me?"

"You're being very dramatic," Salem scolded, quashing Penny's concerns dismissively. "It's only a simple procedure. You won't even feel it—"

"There is nothing simple about putting your Aura into me!" Penny didn't care if Salem tore her apart right then and there for her outburst. Anger was still fresh and alien to Penny, and she wasn't sure whether the feeling was truly hers, or just another side effect of jamming another soul into her core, but still... she was tired of being strung along. For the truth (and Ruby's sake), she had been prepared to sacrifice much… but not this much—not her autonomy and certainly not her identity itself. So she gave into that surge of defiance burning within her core, no matter who's Aura it came from.

Salem merely tutted at her, like she was dealing with a toddler's tantrum. "First, you cowered and trembled, and now you shout and seethe… such a sudden mood swing is unbecoming of you."

Penny flinched. Salem's words were demeaning, yet horrifically accurate. She hadn't noticed until Salem pointed it out, but her personality had shifted again. Her mind corrected itself as she slowed down enough to think. Fear and anger and confusion swirled together as one—but she no longer let one emotion overwhelm and override the rest of her ego. That prideful rage still threatened to boil over, though.

She'd have to be careful to not let it rise over the rest.

"Truly, Arthur's Aura was never a good match for you; too many contrasts and contradictions." Salem ran her fingers through Penny's platinum blonde hair before Penny could try to stop her (if she even could). "Hopefully this little rebellious streak of yours will be settled by the time Arthur has the device ready."

And just like that, there was a glimmer of hope. "You mean… it's not ready yet?" There was still time.

Salem smiled, and it was not a happy shape. "So quick to avoid perfection. Ah, to be young and afraid of change. How simple your thoughts must be. You really are so much like her."

Penny knew she would regret asking, but she did anyway. "Who?"

"My daughter, Calliope. She was my favorite, I think…" She trailed off, eyes hazy for a moment before she collected herself. "But to answer your previous question, yes—the transfer device still has some kinks to work out. It seems my Aura is rather… robust, and the machine needs modifications to withstand the weight of my soul. At least, if we want to use it multiple times without repair."

Multiple times? "What do you mean?"

"Wouldn't you like to have sisters, Penny?"

Penny blinked rapidly. The implications were not difficult to calculate. If Salem's Aura was truly infinite… then there wasn't a limit to how many times her Aura could be extracted. "You want an immortal army," Penny said quietly.

"I want a family," Salem corrected. "I want children free from the trivial shackles of age, disease, and death." Her fingers dug into Penny's scalp possessively. "Daughters that won't fail me by being trampled under the march of time."

Penny felt very small. "But I'm not your daughter."

Salem's eyes looked Penny up and down, dissecting her appearance with an appraising glance. She smirked, liking whatever she found. "Close enough."

Ignoring how Penny shirked from her gaze, Salem continued, "Once the device is finished with its upgrades, your procedure will carry on as scheduled. Then Arthur can continue reverse engineering your core, and we can start building a family we both deserve."

"Why are you even telling me this?" Salem and Arthur already proved they could meddle with Penny's mind somehow. Was Salem just humoring her?

"I was hoping you would be happier. Aren't you tired of being alone? Of being the only one of your kind?"

"But I'm not alone—and I already have a family!" Her father, her friends—even Mister Ironwood (now that Penny knew he wasn't an outright tyrannical dictator). "I don't need you!"

Some of Salem's composure cracked, her smile fading to a thin pressed line. "We could replace them with what they could never be," she said harshly. "I am offering you the world, Penny. I suggest you take it gratefully."

"...What if I refuse?"

Salem sighed. "Then you'll disappoint me… but otherwise change nothing. I know what is best for you, even if you can't see that."

Penny had hit a deadlock. There was no reasoning with this… thing looking down at her like she was a misbehaving child. Salem's immortality made fighting her directly a mute point (and she could just remotely override Penny's body anyway), nor was running currently an option. The only strategy left to utilize…

Was lying.

"I… I understand." She made each word waver and warble, trying to hide her signature hiccup under her static-choked voice. Maybe she could pass it as mere nervousness, or a glitch? Anything to get back in Salem's good graces.

"You do?" She seemed eager—almost hopeful. Penny could use that.

"Yes. I… acknowledge your point of view." Not technically a lie. "I… I am willing to discuss it further." She stifled another hiccup under a wave of static.

Salem reached out and gently ran a finger down Penny's chin. "Oh, darling. You… are such a bad liar."

Before Penny could respond, Salem said flatly, "Cricket."

The virus sparked back to abhorrent life, ripping Penny's body away from her. It caged her within her own mind. "Cricket Online. Awaiting Orders."

"I'm sorry, darling, but you've forced my hand. It seems you aren't as ready as I thought you were. Don't worry, though; I'm not Arthur. I'm not going to leave you like this. It's merely a precaution."

Salem's reassurances were hard to take at face value when Penny didn't have the choice to voice her objections.

"Cricket, activate passive command feature."

"Acknowledged; awaiting custom input."

"When Penny is regranted administrative control, apply the following condition: she may not leave this room. Confirm if actionable."

From the backend of her neural network, Penny watched as… Cricket constructed code in real time in response to Salem's commands, taking only moments to amend new parameters in Penny's software. Its sophistication only made it that much more intrusive, navigating through the outer edges of Penny's operating system with a precision that felt… intimate. Routine.

How much had it already changed her without her realizing?

"Condition compiled successfully," it said after finishing its work. "Awaiting further orders."

"Good. Also, apply her limiter. If she's going to throw a fit, I'd rather her not level the entire room. I spent too many years putting it all together."

Cricket took longer on that second command, mainly because it struggled to scrape what Salem wanted from the more conversational section of her request. However, it still managed to compile what she wanted. Once it did, Salem deactivated it, and Penny regained control once more.

"There, see—was that so bad?"

Penny shuddered terribly as she took stock of her limbs, her core shakily reconnecting to her servos that already felt wrong and misshapen to maneuver. Whatever this body was designed for, it was not designed with her in mind. She wanted her old one back. She couldn't remember what it looked like, but… it had felt better than this one, hadn't it?

"I hate you," Penny said—and she meant it, too.

"'Time has a way of testing our bonds,'" Salem quoted wistfully. "And against eternity, the only bonds that survive are the ones that, themselves, are eternal. So it doesn't matter if you hate me now. As years pass, you will learn to love me as you should. It's inevitable."

"I don't think that's true."

Salem shrugged. "Then it seems we have some more waiting to do, don't we?" She drifted towards Penny's door. "I shall leave you to it."

The door closed behind Salem, and Penny was left alone—

Or, as alone as she could be, with Cricket still inside of her.

The virus was still meddling with her code, tweaking and weaving and shifting binary strings around as it… waited for something. Further orders, perhaps? Or was it merely monitoring Penny, in case she tried to leave the room? She didn't know. She wasn't sure she cared anymore. It was all just… too much. There were too many problems to solve, and too many thoughts to confront. The list spiraled on and on and on, and she couldn't get her processors to focus on any of them—

And the voices were back, too.

Muffled and scattered, she managed to push them away easily, but she could sense them building up momentous noise. Scrambled demands that she prove her worth and her superiority—all side-effect echoes of her Aura "donor" bleeding into her consciousness. She wished they would just go away again—

Wait, that's right. The voices had been… silenced before. Whatever that light had been, wherever it came from… it made the voices stop. Thinking back, it had also been the exact moment she was able separate Cinder from her other visions, too. If only she had seen the light's source—

Her theorizing was cut short by a knock at her door. She instinctually stood up and reached for the handle, but Cricket was faster—her arm froze mid-stretch.

[Condition violation detected. Asset PENNY is not to leave its designated area. Repositioning Asset within pre-configured area.]

It yanked her hand back so forcibly she almost fell onto the floor. Stumbling back, that bubbling, prideful rage within her almost spilling to the surface, Penny barely managed to hold her soul from lashing out.

As she did a little wiggle to air all that anger out of her vents, the knocking at her door evolved into rattling as someone tried to turn the handle directly. Salem must have locked it, though, as the door did not budge. There was a muffled swear, before something metallic rustled on the other side. A moment later, there was a click, and the door swung open—

Revealing a woman with mint hair and scarlet eyes—

Not-Ruby, Penny recognized. Though, without her shapes and her personnel database, she wasn't certain how she made the connection so quickly. There was so much she didn't understand about what Salem and Arthur Watts had done to her, and how they partitioned her visual memories in such a specific way…

Regardless, Not-Ruby was here now, frantically shutting the door behind her as she fiddled with a small, intricate set of metal tools—

Wait… were those—

"Lock picks?"

Not-Ruby glanced at her sharply, doing a double take as she looked Penny up and down. "Y-yeah. I, uh… always have them handy. Haven't had to use them in a while, though…" She trailed off awkwardly, having trouble meeting Penny's eyes.

Penny made an educated guess, considering the circumstances. "Salem… doesn't know you're here, does she?"

Not-Ruby winced. "No, she doesn't… just like she doesn't know I heard most of your conversation."

"You were outside the door?" If Not-Ruby was allied with Salem, then why was she sneaking around? Not more questions… Penny's head hurt enough. "Why are you here?"

Not-Ruby opened her mouth, then closed it, and then opened it again. Rinse, repeat, and so on. At one point, she rolled her eyes and mumbled, "Shut up, I'm getting there."

Before Penny could ask what that meant, Not-Ruby spoke up first. "I'm here to tell you the truth. The gaps Salem left out, anyway."

Penny grimaced. She didn't know how much more truth she could metaphorically stomach before the voices flared up again. "What more is there to know—"

In a flash of green static, Penny's HUD shorted out as she felt the familiar lurch of Not-Ruby's semblance take hold of her HUD. She recoiled at the sudden connection, refreshing her photoreceptors as a new figure took shape in her vision.

An old man stood next to Not-Ruby, leaning stiffly against an ornate cane. His glowing green eyes were framed by a pair of dark spectacles.

"I… I know you," Penny murmured, processors overheating as she struggled to make the connection on her own. Something about… Beacon?

He smiled, but Penny could tell it was a measured gesture. "Hello, Penny. My name is Professor Ozpin. And we have much to discuss."

Emerald scratched her arms anxiously as their "catch-up" conversation came to a close. She spoke up sometimes, mixing in a colorful comment or two, but otherwise let Ozpin take the lead. She didn't have much to say.

Neither did Penny.

Worse, Penny kinda… already knew most of what they were talking about. Her questions were brief and strained, like it was painful for her talk. Her only notable reactions were when Oz brought up the story of the silver eyes—

And when he talked about Emerald.

By the end, Penny was quiet. She was sitting with her back against the wall, rocking herself in place while she clutched her most unusually named stuffed animal.

Emerald knew robo-girl couldn't actually touch the plushie without her semblance, so she offered her support. Reaching out with her Aura, she passed a tactile illusion to Penny's mind—

"Stop it." Penny said abruptly. "You've… touched my mind enough."

Emerald flinched. "I… I'm just trying to help—"

"You broke me," Penny said, and the truth had never hurt Emerald more. "Everything that's happened to me since I came here—it all started with you and that… semblance of yours." Penny shuddered, the green in her eyes going dim. "I can't even tell what's real anymore."

"I… I didn't know you were a person back then," Emerald admitted. "I didn't mean for all this shit to happen to you. I even tried telling you the truth before! This morning, actually…" Fuck, was this still the same day? It didn't feel like it at all. Everything had changed too much too fast for it to only have happened in less than nine hours. Penny didn't look like the same person she was that morning—

She wasn't even wearing the same skin, a fact that Ozpin had found particularly upsetting… not that it was hard to piece together why—

"Didn't know I was a person…" Penny echoed. "Did you not know Pyrrha was a person, too?"

Fuck. "Well—"

"You didn't even tell me she was dead. That she died protecting Beacon—from you!" Her plushie fell to the floor as she erupted to her feet. "I've been thinking such awful things about her, a-and it's all your fault!"

Emerald recoiled, cornering herself as she stumbled away from Penny's approach. Penny wasn't supposed to be like this—she was considerate, excitable, and easy to fluster, and… and—

Emerald had ruined her. She ruined a lot of people back at Beacon. The Valean blood she spilled there hadn't just stained her own hands—she stained Penny's very soul. She could see it in Penny's shifting irises, as Watts' toxic Aura bled through her eyes again. It was like watching whoever Penny used to be just… die a little bit more on the inside. Whatever Penny was feeling, whatever she was about to do as she stomped towards her with fire in her eyes…

Emerald deserved it.

"I'm sorry," Emerald said, tears staining her face as she braced herself for punishment. "I'm sorry, Mistress."

Penny buffered. "W-what?" The yellow in her eyes faded back to a verdant, lively, green.

It took a second for Emerald to realize her mistake. "I mean—"

"Emerald," Ozpin interjected, still using her semblance to stay floating in her vision. "I say this with all due respect… but we don't have time to unpack that."

She agreed quickly, wiping her tears away as she stood up and put more distance between herself and Penny. As she collected herself, Ozpin continued, "Penny, Ruby is in great danger. She should not be in this place… and she does not have Salem's favor, as you do. Emerald and I will investigate where she is being kept, and we will formulate a plan—together—to get both of you out of Evernight safely. Until then… please, do not do anything rash. For Ruby's sake."

Penny wavered, glancing between Ozpin's illusion and Emerald herself. "How… how am I supposed to trust that you're real? You've already lied to me so much. How do I know this isn't another trick?"

Ozpin's illusion didn't turn back towards Emerald, but she could still feel his questioning gaze at the back of her mind. She didn't know why he bothered, since he already knew—

She didn't have a good answer for that, either.

Ozpin sighed. "I suppose there isn't one. But… what other choice do you have?"

Penny stared blankly for a moment, before she chuckled darkly. "I never get many choices, do I?" She sounded tired, and even her weak laugh left her hollowed out. She had no energy to argue. "Real, or not real… I don't care anymore. I won't tell Salem I saw you, and I can't do anything anyway. Just… go away, please."

Ozpin nodded slowly, and his illusion disappeared. Emerald wasn't quite done, though. She couldn't leave her like this, not without… without something! "Penny, wait—"

"You… are a bad person," Penny said matter-of-factly, and Emerald stumbled backwards like she'd been shot.

"Penny, I…" But what could she possibly say to that? What was the point of arguing with her—

When she was absolutely right.

Emerald stumbled through the halls of Evernight in a daze, not even registering where she was going. It was all a blur anyway, and every corner was just as dark as the last. Part of her wanted to just keel over and pass out, if only to stifle the stabbing pain in her stomach. Even though she knew Penny was right about her, robo-girl's words still left her nauseous and dizzy. She didn't understand why—she had always been a bad person. She was a thief, and a murderer, and honestly kind of a bitch overall. This wasn't new information—

So why the fuck was she on her knees, puking her guts out as Penny's words kept driving into her abdomen like a knife, over and over again? Why… why did it hurt so much?

Why did it hurt worse than Cinder?

"Because you care about her," Ozpin answered. "And because you're worried that, after all that has happened between you two… she might not care about you anymore."

She glared down at her bile on the floor like it was Oz's reflection. "Shut up."

"Gladly—once we locate Miss Rose."

Emerald growled, wiping some of her vomit off from a corner of her lip. It tasted as bitter as she felt. But even as low as she had fallen, slipping on her breakfast in some forgotten corner of the castle, she wasn't ready to give up just yet. Ruby could wait.

That upset Oz about as much as Emerald had expected. "Is this about Cinder again? What will it take for you to realize she is a lost cause?"

Oz was probably right about that—

"As I am about most things—"

But no one—and especially not Ozpin—understood Cinder more than Emerald. She knew her favorite foods, and her favorite clothes. She knew the easiest ways to piss her off, and the fastest ways to make her moan. Both her pride and her pleasure were easy to scratch; they were both only skin deep to reach.

"I don't like where you're going with this," Ozpin said softly. "It's not healthy."

Emerald picked herself out of her own filth, feeling strangely calm as she resolved herself to take the next step. In the end, Penny was absolutely right: Emerald was a bad person—

And it was high time she remembered it.

Cinder Fall was not weak. She was not scared. And she was certainly not crying pitifully as she limped back to her room, tears evaporating into steam with each step.

Her Grimm side did not appreciate her lies, wriggling underneath her chest where the parasite had replaced her left lung. A necessary sacrifice, she was told, after Ruby Rose accosted her back at Beacon tower. A sacrifice she had the chance of giving back ten fold on the brat.

She was right there. I could have killed her so easily.

But she didn't. The moment she saw those silver eyes start to flash, Cinder had rocketed away with her Maiden fire in an instant. No hesitation whatsoever. Her reaction time was flawless—

Her reaction itself was not.

"I'm better than her," Cinder mumbled to herself, her throat still sore after her fight with Salem's doll. "I would've won. So why? Why did I…" Her voice trailed off and revved into a growl. She raked her nails against the ground and left another scorch mark in the stone. Fire poured out from her fingertips until her vision grew too foggy from the heat. Catching her breath, she waited for her vision to return as the fire within her burned itself out.

No matter. Whether Ruby died today or tomorrow, it was all the same. If anything, it was better that she survived their first encounter; Cinder wanted to take her time after all. Really savor the moment—prolong her suffering for as long as that Rose bitch could take it.

Yes, Cinder liked the sound of that. All she had to do was ask where her Queen was keeping Ruby, and she could have a brand new pet to play with. One she wouldn't need to be gentle with like she was with Emerald—

A gemstone she wouldn't regret breaking.

That stray thought brought a grin back to her face as she reached her doorway. Her body ached, and the wound to her pride was still fresh and bleeding, but she would win in the end. It was her destiny. As her ambition took hold, her Grimm flesh stopped squirming—finally remembering its place beneath her heel. Her mood only sweetened from there; control always helped her feel more calm.

That calm feeling died in her throat as she opened her door and found Emerald lying on her bed. Instead of her normal crop top, she was splayed out in a red dress with gold filigree—one of Cinder's old dresses.

Emerald's scarlet eyes glanced at Cinder playfully.

It pissed Cinder off.

"What do you think you're doing?" It wasn't like Emerald to be so bold. Was she acting out because of earlier? Did she crave her punishments that much? If so, perhaps she had become like Tyrian, and reprimanding her needed to be more emotional than it was physical. What a chore.

Emerald tilted her head to the side. "What, this old thing? I didn't think you were wearing it anymore—too open sleeve for you, right?" She stared pointedly at Cinder's Grimm arm. "It clashes less with me, anyway."

There was an ever growing possibility that Emerald was trying to commit suicide. "Take it off. Now."

Emerald smirked, fueling the flames even more. "I mean, that was always the plan, but if you want to skip right past the foreplay, I'm game—"

Cinder lunged forward, yanking Emerald up by the bodice as she snarled smoke in her face. "This isn't cute of you. You want to be used so badly? Fine. But it will hurt—"

"It always hurts with you, Cinder," Emerald interrupted, almost bored. "I wouldn't have it any other way. But whatever you want to do to me, do it tonight. It might be our last time together, and I want to make it last."

Cinder gawked at Emerald, truly so confused at her pet's behavior that her anger couldn't keep up. "What are you talking about?"

"You know, since Salem doesn't need you anymore," Emerald said casually. "That, and we're all gonna die soon."

Cinder's eye twitched. "If this is about the puppet, I'll have you know that was a draw at best." If Ruby hadn't shown up when she had, Ironwood's toy would've been molten slag by now.

"It's sort of about her—at least, a conversation I overheard her have with Salem. Queenie told her everything about her plans, and what will happen once the relics are brought together."

Cinder scoffed. Salem trusted Penny with her plans? Ridiculous. "You're lying."

Emerald's misplaced confidence refused to crack. "When have I ever lied to you, Mistress? And if you don't believe me…" She waved an empty hand in front of Cinder, twirled her wrist, and her scroll appeared in her grip like a cheap parlor trick. "I recorded it, audio only."

Cinder couldn't believe she was humoring her pet's delusions. Whatever game Emerald was playing with her, it had better end up being worth it—otherwise there'd be hell to pay.

Expecting one of Mercury's pranks or something else unworthy of her time, Cinder pressed play on Emerald's scroll—

But her face paled as Salem's voice crackled through the speakers.

Ruby woke up at the bottom of a dank hole. Not the best descriptor in the world, but the best one for her situation. It didn't help that her head was still groggy after Mercury gave her another concussion—

"Hi, Red." Fiddlesticks. She hadn't meant to summon him. "Finally awake?" His voice carried down from above her, and Ruby could only make out a dull, violet light carving a silhouette of his body in the shadows.

"Where am I?" Ruby stood up, catching herself on the uneven, jagged stone surface that composed the floor. "Where's Penny?"

"You're in a hole, if that wasn't obvious. I'm not gonna bother answering the second question."

"Cool, so you don't know." Ruby ignored his sputtering as she inspected what little she could of her surroundings. The light didn't carry well, but she navigated to the walls of the pit easily enough. She ran her hands across its smooth, chiseled surface, implying the formation wasn't natural. No footholds or purchases she could find, but for whatever reason, there were tons of little, dug out divets covering all sides of its cylindrical edge. Some were barely wider than pencil led, while others could fit up to her thumb. Was something meant to hook into them?

"Don't know why you're even bothering to look around, Red. You're not gonna find anything, and you're not leaving unless the boss lady says so."

Ruby continued ignoring him, not interested enough to listen unless he had something to say about Penny. Or—

"Is… is my mom here?" It was a long shot, but she was a sniper—she had to try.

There was a longer pause. "I'm not gonna answer that either."

Ruby groaned. Typical. "What do you know then?" Her voice cracked. "Why does your boss even want me so badly?'

Mercury started to say something, but his voice was drowned out by the sound of stone scraping against stone. The temperature in the pit dropped, and Ruby could see her breath in the air.

"You know what, Red? Why don't you just ask her yourself?"

Before Ruby could reply, another voice cut through the dark, one that made every one of Ruby's hairs stand on end. "Mercury, I take it the subject is conscious?" Unlike Mercury, she did not cast a shadow under the violet light.

"Yes, your grace. You still need me on guard duty?"

"No, you are dismissed. In fact, Arthur requests your presence. He has a proposition for you that I think you will find… interesting."

"Can do." Mercury's boots thudded against the stone above, and his shadow went with him. There was nothing for Ruby to look at now, nothing but a distant light she could not reach.

Silence. One she was scared to break but did anyway. "H-hello?" Ruby's voice felt fragile as it echoed away from her. "Are you Salami?"

She had never heard laughter that sounded less joyous. "I was told you were a brazen one. I am not disappointed."

"Um… thank you?" Whatever energy this lady was bringing to the conversation, Ruby couldn't clock it. She definitely seemed to be the one in charge, though, if the way Mercury acted was any indication.

"He did something to you, didn't he? The light you used earlier… it wasn't typical of your kind. I'd be intrigued, if it hadn't reverted all of my daughter's progress. She was so close to shedding those childish ethics she holds so dear."

He? Daughter? The villain monologue was going a bit too fast for Ruby to track, and she was clearly missing some important context. "Are you talking about Cinder?"

If Salem heard her, she didn't acknowledge her question. "No matter. It's only a minor setback. I do wonder, though… will his meddling affect the procedure?" She laughed again, and Ruby shivered. "I can't wait to see what you become."

As Ruby tried to pick apart whatever she was talking about, there was a lurch as liquid sloshed behind the walls. Something dark and viscous spilled from the holes she had noticed earlier.

"Uh, what's happening?" The oily substance flooded most of the edges, corralling Ruby towards the center to avoid it. "Hello?"

No response.

It was flooding down faster now, reaching up to her combat boots. She tried lifting her leg, but her foot wouldn't budge. She tapped into whatever Aura she had left, see if could she Petal Burst her way even a little bit closer to the top—

But that turned out to be a mistake. The oil writhed in unison with her Aura, all of the deluge coiling together like a pit of snakes as they wrapped around her legs. Inch by inch, drop by drop, it spread across every corner of her body, burning like acid wherever it bit her skin.

Ruby thrashed like a wild animal, kicking at it—clawing at it—until everything below her neck was submerged and itching with pain. She couldn't move. She could barely breathe as it dug into her throat. It wasn't until the fluid wriggled towards the corner of her eyes that she understood where it was going next—

And Ruby screamed.