Note: Sorry for the longer wait. I've been dealing with a job situation that's been keeping me on edge. Hopefully, it turns out and I can start making an income again. In the meantime, the story continues. Finally getting to some real fighting! I mean, not the fighting you are all looking forward to, but fighting nonetheless! Enjoy.

Knock knock.

"Come in."

Ironwood made a home for himself in his hotel room, though it wasn't nearly up to standard. While the other headmasters, sponsors, and dignitaries could cozy it up at the best hotel in Li Caccia, he had to lay low. His hotel room was smaller than his office at Atlas, the only dash of royalty provided being the king-sized bed. They gave him a desk, at least. Cheap wood. Flimsy. Cramped. He spent most of his hours sat behind it, sorting through various files. Mostly profiles for each of the Atlasian contestants, but also applications for sponsorships, legal paperwork, and emails sent by old friends returning called favors. He couldn't go outside, and risk being seen in public as a horrid disgrace. In his makeshift home, his prison, he would mastermind Atlas's comeback.

At least, when his gaze wasn't stuck on the news, watching his best student make an ass of herself.

The other students knew where they could find him. He was their commander. Communication was crucial. One such student took him up on his offer. Inviting them in, Ironwood heard their footsteps stop shortly inside the door. He turned and saw a small frame standing by the entrance, hands behind her back, clasped, neat and tidy, unwilling to step in further without permission. She was a good student, after all. Far too loyal for her own good.

"Private Soleil. What brings you here?" he asked plainly. Ciel was slightly taken aback by the complete lack of malice in his voice. "You should be watching your fellow cadets' Showcases."

"Sir, I have come to inquire about the Showcases, sir," Ciel huffed.

"What about them?"

"Sir, I wish to receive clarification on Atlas's strategy, sir."

Ironwood sighed. His focus remained mostly on his documents. "You have permission to speak freely, Private Soleil."

Ciel's posture shifted, but only slightly, imperceptibly. Her throat was dry and she could feel the metal of her sword necklace burying into her skin. She coughed, taking one step forward.

"General… have you seen the panel that Penny just did?"

"Yes, I have."

"I was wondering if… that was going to affect your decisions behind the Showcases at all."

Ironwood gently shook his head. "No. Private Polendina will do the Showcases with Privates Bound, Finch, and Ameson."

Ciel's face was rigid, but the ghost of bitterness washed over it. Not that the General noticed.

"Sir, with all due respect, can you really trust Penny with this level of responsibility? You just saw what she did. Everyone online is talking about that panel. They are badmouthing our Kingdom because of her."

Ironwood sighed and ruffled through his stack of papers. He found an invoice, holding it up for Ciel to see. "This is the shipment of Dust we are receiving tomorrow from the Lupin Mining Company. I had to practically beg for this amount. It's a crate. Just one. Not enough to spread among all of our soldiers for one round, let alone all six. The best way to obtain more is to demonstrate the power of Atlas Academy, and Penny is our most powerful student."

"But it's her disloyalty that has caused our reputation to sink, hasn't it?" Ciel asked, taking another, stronger step forward. "How can we trust her to represent Atlas Academy when she has already proven that she acts selfishly."

"Penny has proven herself to me. That's all you need to know."

"But she just messed up again," Ciel said quickly. Another step. "If we are to strengthen Atlas's reputation, couldn't we instead feature a student that—"

"Like you?"

Ironwood turned sharply toward Ciel, staring her down. She froze on the spot, a deer in headlights. Ironwood continued to speak in the same unbothered tone.

"That's what this is all about, is it not?" Ironwood asked calmly. "You want to do the Showcase instead of her." Ciel did not answer. His eyes narrowed. "Spit it out, Private Soleil."

Ciel closed her eyes. She was never good at subtlety. Always played too loud and just out of tune.

"I… I don't understand why you don't have faith in me," she confessed.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… I feel like I have done everything you have asked of me," Ciel explained, trying to hide her hurt. "I have aced every test, passed each test with flying colors, and represented our Kingdom with pride. When you assigned me to watch over Penny, I did everything I possibly could to guide her as you wanted. You said it yourself that the task was impossible, but I completed it. And yet, you still don't give me opportunities to prove myself. I'm just… very frustrated and confused that she continues to be favored over someone who could do this job better."

Ciel braced herself for the scolding. She knew she said too much, but once her tongue was left free to wander, it would run miles before being stopped. Ironwood's cold gaze remained focused on her, and she tried her best to ignore it while being a good soldier.

Yet, even now, Ironwood refused to raise his voice. "Are you not in the Vytal Festival?"

Ciel hesitated. "S-Sir?"

"Answer the question, Private," he asked softly. "Are you not in the Vytal Festival?"

Ciel nodded slowly. "Yes, sir."

"And do you think I would select you for the Vytal Festival if I did not think you deserved that opportunity? If I didn't want you to have a chance to prove yourself?"

"No, sir."

"Exactly. That you are standing here is proof of my recognition of your skills and loyalty," Ironwood explained. "Understand, Private Soleil. My decision on the Showcases was not made out of any malice. I selected Penny for her ability to attract sponsors and the other First Class Privates for consistency. But Showcases are not where you should be placing your focus. You have actual battles approaching. I want you to prepare for what truly matters. Is that understood?"

No. She didn't understand. Why was he not screaming at her? Chastising her for her pride? She felt in Ironwood something so different than she had seen before. A quiet resolve, maybe? His face looked different, too, now that she looked at it. Older. Emptier.

"Yes, sir."

Ironwood gave her a subtle nod. "Good. Is there anything else you wish to discuss?"

She didn't need to overstay her welcome. Some things need not concern her.

"No, sir."

"You are dismissed then."

Ciel clapped her heels together, straightening out the shoulders that had fallen beneath standard. She gave a quick nod and turned to leave the room.

"One moment, Private."

And again, she was trapped. She returned to Ironwood, wondering if he had finally returned to normal. Yet, he seemed more passive than ever.

"Yes, sir?"

Ironwood turned fully away from his desk. All of his attention was on her. "Tonight, most of the contestants will be dining with their families," he said gently. "Is your family going to be visiting as well?"

A cold chill ran down Ciel's spine. She swallowed down her anger toward him.

"No, sir. My mother couldn't afford travel."

Ironwood didn't react. He paused for a long moment, then subtly nodded. "I see. That's unfortunate, Private Soleil. Try to call her if you can. It's good to spend time with loved ones before the Festival."

Ciel didn't react either.

"Of course… sir."

"I can't believe she actually said that," Blake said, irritated. Team RWBY huddled in the corner of the women's locker room. Ruby sat on one of the stiff wooden benches, sullen and cold, surrounded by the sounds of thin, clanging metal. Other female Vytal contestants were prepping nearby. Pyrrha strapped on her chest armor. Bianca Prisma inspected her swords nearby, trying to ignore Pyrrha's motions. Reese Chloris stood by a mirror and repeatedly fixed her spiky hair. Of course, Ruby's whole team had joined her. Yang stood with one foot stretched onto the same bench, adjusting their boots, having just finished slipping into the rest of their combat gear. Blake and Weiss leaned against some of the nearby beige lockers, the latter scrolling through her social media feed, the former cross-armed and bitter.

"She really did," Weiss said. "Your fight is going viral everywhere."

Ruby sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, guys. I just couldn't control myself." Ruby leaned forward as if pulled down by her guilt. She hadn't mentioned the Holy Grail by name, but she said far more than she ever should have. World-ending threats. Betraying each other. She wasn't sure what consequences there could be this close to the tournament, but there was no reason to even risk revealing their mission to the public.

"It doesn't seem too bad," Weiss reassured her. "I'd say maybe only twenty percent of the comments are actually wondering what you were talking about, and none of those really seem to be catching on to the details. There are some more conspiracy-minded, but they are being ignored since they are from the usual suspects online. Another thirty percent or so is just sending hate immediately toward Penny."

"From our fans?" Ruby asked, depressed.

Weiss nodded. "They're saying some incredibly hateful things."

"Can you send out a post asking them not to do that?" Ruby asked.

Blake sneered. "Why? Who cares if Penny gets a bunch of harassment online? She just said she didn't regret holding us at gunpoint."

"We should try to encourage positivity with our platform," Ruby said objectively. Subjectively, she didn't want the hate to spiral any further than it already had.

"I'll send out a page," Weiss sighed.

Yang finished tying their shoe and stepped off the bench. They leaned next to Weiss to look at her Scroll. "Uh, not that I'm great with math, but what's the other fifty percent of the comments like?"

A subtle blush appeared on Weiss's face. She raised her Scroll hoping to cover it. It didn't work.

"Weiss?"

"It's uh…" Weiss lowered her voice to the volume of a pin drop. "Romance speculation."

"What?" asked Ruby. Weiss refused to elaborate, but luckily, Yang was there to be the hero of the day. They ran their eyes over Weiss's Scroll, and they had to stop themselves from bursting out in laughter.

"Oh my god," they said. "They're shipping you and Penny."

Ruby's face turned bright red. "What?"

"Yo, that's crazy," Yang said, snatching Weiss's Scroll away despite the heiress's pitiful protests. They ran through a hundred posts in a minute, taking in all the delicious, juicy gossip. Blake joined in on the fun, peering over Yang's shoulder, needing to get in on the action.

"Oh, shit," Blake muttered. "They're going wild."

The internet was a wonderful, terrible place. Its ebbs and flows were as turbulent as hurricane winds, and trying to predict what would take hold of the public psyche was fruitless. A few people cared about the actual substance of Ruby and Penny's conversation. Some were actively concerned by its implications. But the vast, vast majority of comments—way more than Weiss's fifty percent estimate—had latched onto May's offhanded comment about the two dating, and transformed it into the relationship drama of the century. A massive narrative of gay sex, passion, and even gayer heartbreak had formed reactively in the hour since the panel went live, and Yang couldn't go two comments without seeing wild speculation of Penny and Ruby's sordid sexual history. Like, some of it was graphic. Way too graphic for someone who was still a minor. And some people called that out. Some.

Ruby shook her head in disbelief, growing more flustered by the second. "I can't believe that's what people took away from that."

"Hey, I'd rather they focus on that than the Grail," Blake stated. "Also, shipping you with Penny is hilarious. Not as bad as the Weiss/Blake shippers, but still crazy."

"Don't bring those up!" Weiss shouted.

"You wish you could have me."

"I very much do not!"

Weiss cupped her face to hide her embarrassment. She had become familiar with the copious speculation on her relationships online, though she would never say she was used to such things. Part of the reason she kept her romance with Ruby a secret was that she enjoyed having a private life. Seeing the hearsay ramp up over the past hour was disconcerting. Purely because of the impact on her reputation, and not at all because the idea of Ruby dating Penny filled her with envy. There was literally no reason to think that, given how much Penny had fucked them—no, not like that!

As for Ruby… well, she was just happy that people were paying attention to something else. Crisis averted.

"Ignoring all that," Ruby sighed, "how are you feeling about the Showcase, Yang?"

Yang tossed Weiss her Scroll, the heiress fumbling the device and screaming as it fell to the ground. Yang shrugged.

"Fine. Feeling limber."

"Are you sure?"

Yang tried to keep their positive attitude, though something about Ruby's demeanor soured them.

"Uh… yeah. We're sure."

"Because it's not too late to sub out if you aren't," Ruby insisted.

"Ruby. We are literally fine. It's fine."

Ruby sighed, accepting defeat. Yang pouted, though they only let the bad thoughts linger momentarily. Ruby was just concerned for their well-being. They had to remember that Ruby nearly saw them crushed to death not even a month ago. Of course, she would be protective. But this was their chance to show they moved on. They weren't going to waste it.

Weiss could sense the slight tension between the sisters, and as the closest thing they had to an in-house therapist, she intervened before anything could worsen. "So, Yang, when are you scheduled to fight?"

"Second," Yang said. "You all better watch from the stands."

"Yeah, of course," Blake said. "I'm not bailing until after you go."

"Do you know who's going with you?"

Yang shrugged. "I think one of the Team MNSS boys?"

Yang didn't know their names very well, and who could blame them? Boybands were never their style. Too manufactured. However, Vytal rules required that the Showcases be done in pairs—not together, but simultaneously fighting through hordes of enemies. Yang didn't have to pay attention to whoever was fighting next to them. Literally had no impact. They just had to do their absolute best and hope they didn't get distracted.

Their gaze wandered to Pyrrha, who was as focused as ever. It was the first time they had ever seen Pyrrha Nikos in a tournament setting, and they were surprised at how relaxed they were. How the hell did she do it? Even now, they felt a small tremble in their right hand.

"Shit, it's starting!" A panicked cry rang from the bathroom, and Reese Chloris sprinted through the locker room. She nearly slipped and crashed, but was able to stumble on her feet and barrel semi-successfully through the door. Team RWBY watched silently.

"So, uh, guess the first Showcase is about to happen?" Ruby asked.

"Oh, Weiss, pull it up on your Scroll," Yang asked, reaching for Weiss again. The heiress recoiled.

"Use your own Scroll, dammit!"

"Never!"

Thirty stone golems. Dozens of reporters. The eyes of the entire world.

Her teammates, screaming her name from the stands.

Arslan Altan stood barefoot at the edge of the battlefield, eyes closed. She tuned the world out, or at least, tried to. She concentrated on her breathing and the rolling, rhythmic tensing of her muscles; starting at her toes, working through her calves and her abdomen, up through her shoulders, and releasing at the tips of her fingers, which twitched and flicked as the Aura pulsed through them. Her first chance was to demonstrate what she had mastered. A test for those at home, unable to watch her. All enemies before her, of stone or of flesh, would fall. That was all that mattered.

She clenched her fists. Her knuckles popped as she cracked each joint with her thumb.

The pads of her feet slowly became numb to the cold metal paneling.

She opened her eyes, ready to stare down her enemies.

Instead, she saw a monstrosity.

"Wassup, girlfriend?"

Arslan stared at the woman who rudely parked herself directly in her path. Her "partner", in a sense. Not that they would ever interact on the battlefield. Nor should they. Because… what was she? A yellow, smiley face crop top. High-waisted jean shorts with rainbow suspenders. From her waist, five thin, black crates dangled, their contents a mystery. Twenty bracelets on each arm, enough to reach her elbow, none of them matching. Orange and blue hair swooped up and twirled together like soft-serve ice cream. She leaned forward and shimmied on her shoulders, her body gently rocking back and forth on a pair of roller skates.

Arslan did not know her name. Arslan hated her.

"Move."

"Ne0N. Ne0N Katt. Pleasure's all yours," Ne0N said with a smirk. She extended her hand. Arslan did not move. Ne0N wasn't fazed. "First one up for the Showcase? Nervous?"

Arslan decided to ignore her. She looked ahead to the stone golems. They were arranged in a battalion, three rows of ten, large sword about the size of her—

"I was sooooooooo excited when I got picked first, dig?" Neo clasped her hands behind her back and began skating circles around Arslan. Arslan just kept staring straight ahead, the roaming popstar occasionally popping into her vision. "It's, like, totally an honor! They wanna show you before aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanyone. Can you believe it? Super mad cool."

Stop.

"Where's your weapon? Oooh, do you not have a weapon? Do you fight—omg, are you barefoot? Cray cray. You're gonna get calluses! But your toe structure is, like, so pretty."

Halt.

"I love the variety in Vytal, right? Shake it up, right sis? None as cool as me, of course. Whatcha gonna do though? Can't all be talented."

Cease.

"You not a talkative type? Helloooooooooooo?"

Shut.

"Attention Miss Blondie Scowly Face?"

Kill.

"Ooh, you're like uber mysterious, aint'cha? So serious. No biggie. We're still cool…"

Ne0N suddenly ground to a halt as a voice came over the loudspeakers. "Will all fighters make their way to their arenas? The Showcases will begin momentarily."

Arslan let out a low, grumbling sigh. Ne0N smirked and casually skated away in reverse. "Gotta go! It was great talking, girlfriend! Let's catch up over dinner, aight?"

They would not. Ne0N roamed over to one of the other gridded battlefields, separated from her new BFF by only a few yards. The cameras turned upon her, and she could feel the energy surging within her. Yes. Finally. Her moment.

From around the world, through the lenses of their televisions, spectators saw Ne0N and Arslan stand at the ready as the final preparations for the Showcases were made. Statistics flashed up on the screen. Win records. Fighting styles. Predictions. Two skilled commentators described their every action, though no such distractions were pumped into the training hall. Ne0N shook out her excess energy through her arms as another announcement came over the speaker.

"Attention combatants. The Showcase is about to begin. Please step onto the platform."

Arslan took a gentle step into the battlefield. Ne0N grinned and skipped into position. Hanging above the arenas was a clock in giant, red numbers. 10:00.

"Please defeat as many golems as you can within the allotted time. You may use any weapons and abilities at your disposal. The Showcase will end under the following conditions:

All golems have been incapacitated.

The time expires.

Surrender.

Ring-out.

Medic stoppage.

You may not receive any outside assistance during the Showcase. Please do not interfere with your neighboring combatant. Any failure to follow the rules will risk disqualification from all future Vytal events. Thank you very much for your cooperation, and Happy Hunting!"

Ne0N's smile grew wider. She could hear Arslan's teammates cheering her on, but she knew where the loyalties of the world rested. None of the other Huntsmen came to support her. That was typical.

"Introducing our first combatants. From Team ABRN of Shade Academy, the Deadly Palm… Arslan Altan!"

Arslan didn't react. Deadly Palm… was that really the best Reese could come up with?

"And from Team FNKI of Haven Academy…"

Ne0N cocked her hips.

"…the Hypest Huntress…"

She cocked them to the other side.

"…the Real Rock N' Rolla…"

She stuck up two peace signs for her audience.

"…the Biggest Superstar on the Planet…"

She stuck out her tongue and fervently shook her head.

"…Y0ur Fave… Ne0N… Katt!"

"Woooooo!" Ne0N cheered, twirling on her skates. "What up, Party People! Who's ready to get down tonight!"

Arslan stared daggers across the battlefield. Ne0N just blew her a kiss.

"Huntresses, ready!"

The golems picked up their swords and posed in formation. Ne0N knelt down, leaning her weight on her back foot. Her smile became fierce. Arslan stood still, taking in one final deep breath.

"And…"

Ne0N immediately slapped the thin black case on her right thigh, and it sprang open. Inside, on a miniature turntable, a record began to spin.

"Begin!"

Ne0N burst forward on her skates as the sound of vibrant EDM filled the arena. She charged forward thoughtlessly into battle, quickly closing the distance to the thumping beat of an artificial base. With each step, the vibrations shook the record, and it skipped haphazardly and beautifully. The golems readied their stone blades as she grew close. Twenty meters. Ten meters. Nine. Eight.

Step skate skip, step skate skip.

Step skate skip, step skate skip.

Step skate skip, step skate skip.

Come on, get closer, feel the beat, feel the beat.

Come on, get closer, feel the beat, feel the beat.

Skate and skip, skate and skip, skate and skip, skate and skip, skate and skip, skate and skip, skate and skip, now.

As the golems readied to strike, Ne0N slashed her hand across the surface of the record. The distorted scratch was like nails on a chalkboard, and Ne0N channeled its power with her Semblance. The record glowed, the torn base cascading within itself, building power, and then a wave of energy shot launched from her hip, slicing apart the air. It sailed into the middle of the golem's battalion and exploded on impact, breaking apart their guard. A thin opening in their ranks revealed itself, and Ne0N slid on her knees into the center of the pack. With a wild grin, she slapped two more cases on her back. The unfolded, revealing small speakers within. She rolled onto her stomach, sticking her ass out toward the golems. She thrusted her arm into the air and screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Let's break it down!"

Ne0N smashed her fist into the record, and the ear-piercing speaker feedback turned into a vile wave of destructive energy. The thirty golems went flying from her position, sailing in different directions. Most crashed around the arena, but one or two sailed out of the arena. Per their orders, they ceased to function. A voice came over the loudspeaker as Ne0N shot up to her feet.

"Ne0N Katt: Two eliminated."

Ne0N stuck out her tongue to the cameras, taking in a moment of glory as the golems slowly recovered. She looked up at the clock—only twenty seconds had passed, sweet—then looked across to the other battlefield to rub it in. Aint no way Arslan was gonna beat her record. She was…

Actually, Arslan wasn't moving at all.

She just stood in one spot, maintaining her breathing as her golem battalion steadily approached her.

Ne0N turned away from that loser. The pounding of the base filled her with adrenaline. Her targets were scattered easy pickings. She had to pick one. Eeny, meeny, miny—that one!

A lone golem rose to its feet first, and Ne0N made a mad dash. She reached behind her in rhythm, unhooking one of the speaker boxes from her back. She pulled on a small lever on its base, and it unfolded further—three dials appeared and she cranked those suckers as high as they would go. The golem lazily swung its sword at her head, but she ducked beneath its attack and stuck the speaker in its face. She ripped the turntable hard, and a wicked scratch turned into a powerful blast of sound energy. With all the force directed at the golem's head, it burst into pieces.

"Ne0N Katt: Three eliminated."

Two more golems approached Ne0N's position. She skated out of range as she ripped the turntable off her hip. She smashed the edges of the equipment together, and with a few satisfying clicks, they fused together. The speakers flipped down and a handle extended from beneath the turntable. In a flash, the two random instruments had fused into a funkalicious, highly destructive dealer of deathly sound. She aimed the speaker barrel at a golem and pulled the trigger. The turntable spun rapidly, the music distorting into a swirl of muddy drums and out-of-tune electric guitars. A blast of energy went blam from the end of the barrel, crashing into a golem's legs. It knocked the stone monster onto its butt, but it remained alive.

Needed more juice.

Ne0N unhooked another crate from her hip and opened it. An audio mixer, dials, and sliders sleek, greeted her.

More juice.

She slapped it on the side of her audio cannon. It morphed onto the weapon, wires, and connectors switching snugly into place. The weapon's barrel grew twice as long.

Juiced. Super juiced.

She pointed the cannon again, lacing her fingers over the sliders. She pushed them up, up, up. The beat grew louder, louder, louder. Aim. Fire. Boom. The golem's torso turned into a deep cavity, and it collapsed.

"Ne0N Katt: Four eliminated."

The other golem stepped even closer. Two shots were all it took to take it down.

"Ne0N Katt: Five eliminated."

"Ohhhh, she's on a roll!" Ne0N shouted. She twirled in a circle, daring the other golems to come at her. "Come on, boys! Aint'cha gonna hit me or what?"

As the golems regrouped around Ne0N, and as she continued blasting her horrendous toons, the battalion of stone soldiers on the other field finished their methodical approach toward Arslan. The monk hadn't budged from her spot, even as seconds ticked into minutes and the cheers from her teammates turned more desperate. More of a statue than any of her adversaries, her eyes were closed, but she could feel the golems enclosing her.

Not yet. Don't waste energy.

The battalion split and the first wave of five surrounded her in a semi-circle, pressing her back against the edge of the arena. They did not think, feel, or wonder what drove this warrior to surrender. They merely acted as their instinct commanded, raising their swords in preparation for a finishing blow.

Not yet.

Arslan felt the wind brush against her face. She opened her eyes as the golems started to swing their swords.

Five blades of stone fell toward her head. None would find their target.

Arslan moved.

Her muscles tensed, but her rigid body suddenly flowed like a river. She dove beneath the stone swords almost so fast the eye couldn't process, and the swords smashed against the empty ground long after their target was gone. The weapons hadn't fully rebounded from the impact before Arslan was inches in front of one of the golems, arms pulled tightly to her chest, ready to strike. Her nostrils flared and her arms crashed into the golem's torso like pounding rain, two dozen rolling elbow strikes cracking into its pressure points in seconds. It didn't have time to comprehend the impact before Arslan laid her palm into its chest.

She focused the Aura into her hand and screamed.

She pushed forward an inch.

The golem's upper half exploded into powder.

And everyone watching the stream collectively lost their fucking minds.

"Arslan Altan: One eliminated—"

Arslan spun on a dime, leaping into the air and throwing out a hard kick into the next golem's head, pulverizing it.

"Arslan Altan: Two—"

The next golem swung its sword into her. She planted her feet and channeled all of her Aura into her forearms. The stone turned to dust on impact. As the golem stumbled forward, she swept its legs into oblivion, followed quickly by its face.

"Three—"

She immediately jumped into the next, driving both knees against its chest. The impact caused it to fall to the ground, and she rolled back to her feet to deliver a brutal stomp through its stone heart.

"Four—"

Ne0N finally recognized the announcements and turned to the other battlefield. She gasped as she saw Arslan drive her fist straight through the other golem, knuckles passing through the hard earth as easily as sand. The golem hovered over her, penetrated and useless, as Arslan coursed all of the power into her hand.

She extended her fingers. Her enemy burst into pieces.

"Arslan Altan: Five enemies defeated."

Insane cheers from her teammates filled the arena. Ne0N looked into Arslan's eyes and saw a vile inferno beneath her calm expression. She grimaced, her joyful exterior dropping for just a moment.

That bitch…

That bitch stole her spotlight.

You don't do that.

"Okay, then," Ne0N grumbled. She unhooked another audio mixer from her hip and slapped it onto her weapon. It grew bigger. Pulsed louder. Sounded funkier. "Let's dance."

Ne0N and Arslan burst into action, charging headfirst into the golem army. Ne0N's pulsing music set her into a fiery rhythm. She skated relentlessly, swerving around each golem's attack and taking musical potshots at their brains at every opportunity. Arslan, despite having to sprint on ash-covered bare feet, was just as nimble, throwing herself into the center of the horde. She threw out fists, knees, and elbows the instant a golem stepped too close for comfort. The clock ticked ever downward as Ne0N's dubstep medley backdropped the chaos of exploding stone.

And together, their numbers began to climb.

"Ne0N Katt: Six eliminated."

"Arslan Altan: Six eliminated."

"Arslan Altan: Seven eliminated."

"Ne0N Katt: Seven eliminated."

"Arslan Altan: Eight eliminated."

"Arslan Altan: Nine eliminated."

Ne0N jammed her gun into the ground. The energy transferred into the tiled floor and caused her entire field to bounce like a rave.

"Ne0n Katt: Ten eliminated."

A golem swung at Arslan's head. She ducked beneath easily and grabbed its leg. With a simple twisting dragon screw, the appendage flew off.

"Arslan Altan: Eleven eliminated."

Ne0N danced a circle around a single golem, repeatedly shooting it in the chest. "Come on, come on, hit 'em up, hit 'em up, hit 'em up."

"Ne0N Katt: Twelve Eliminated."

Arslan stamped her feet into the ground, creating a wide stance as two golems charged at her from the sides. She shot her palms out into both simultaneously, and they went flying out on either side of the ring.

"Arslan Altan: Fourteen Eliminated."

Ne0N changed the music tracks. The song transformed from EDM to an identical-sounding EDM. But she loved it.

"Ne0N Katt: Thirteen Eliminated."

Two blades sailed toward Arslan, one at her head and another at her knees. She dodged between them, rolling gracefully through the air before lunging at one of the golems like a tiger.

"Arslan Altan: Fifteen Eliminated."

Ne0N aimed again at a golem, but couldn't help herself from glancing to the other Showcase. Her brow furrowed, and that split second of distraction was all it took for her to skate directly into a golem. The impact sent her weapon flying out of her hand and made her fall onto her butt. She tried to shake off the pain as the golem hovered over her, readying to attack.

Shit. Weapon? No weapon. Uh… oh!

She pointed two finger guns at the golem and shouted as loud as she could.

"Bang!"

The words coalesced into energy, and with a completely unnecessary flick of her imaginary pistols, the blast struck the golem square in the chest.

"Bangbangbangbangbangbangbang!"

More sound bullets riddled the stone, each causing the golem to stumble. When she had room to maneuver, she rolled backward, turning herself onto her skates and bending backward to dodge another stupid golem that decided to swing at her. She skated quickly to her sound cannon, dug the tip of her shoe underneath it, and kicked it up into her hands. She took aim.

"Bang!"

"Ne0N Katt: Fourteen Eliminated."

She shot again. And again.

And on the other field, Arslan continued her assault.

They traded attacks, the announcers rattling off their names as the seconds flew by.

Each attack was brutal, each landed blow accompanied by the sounds of dropped bases and bursting rock.

Over and over, they attack.

One by one, the golems fell.

Punch.

Dial.

Elbow strike.

Dodge.

Scream.

Record scratch

Dodge.

Taunt.

Double elbow.

Record scratch.

Skate.

Palm.

Turn it up.

Knee.

Louder.

Elbow.

Louder.

Strike.

Louder.

Strike.

Louder.

Strike.

Louder.

Louder.

Louder.

"Time up!"

Ne0N skidded to a halt. Arslan stopped herself just before her knuckles collided with another golem. A loud buzzer rang out, and the first Showcases had drawn to a close. The golems ceased moving as if a switch had been flipped in their brains. The Huntresses stopped and looked around as applause filled the chamber. The golem hordes had thinned significantly, though quite a few remained standing on both fields. Ne0N began counting those that remained, though only a second later, her answer was given to her.

"Final Tally. Ne0N Katt: Twenty-two golems eliminated."

The popstar jumped into the air, screaming at the top of her lungs. "Woohoo! How do you like that, baby?"

"Final Tally. Arslan Altan: Twenty-three golems eliminated."

Ne0N stopped jumping. Her kit fell out of her hands, and on impact with the ground, the record scratched and ceased playing. She turned to the other field, where Arslan was calmly standing around, her mission finished. She didn't react to the good news. If anything, she seemed somewhat discouraged. Only twenty-three. Arslan clenched her bloody knuckles and gently bowed in respect to her opponents. She did not wait longer before walking out of the field to her teammates, who were eagerly waving her over.

Ne0N watched with silent scorn. Her teammates were nowhere around—by her own order of course. She didn't want them distracting her. But that meant any welcoming audience was far, far away, leaving her victory in the company of pitiful silence. She swallowed her frustrations, put on a big, fake smile, and skated out of the ring while waving to the cameras.

"Awww yeah! That's what it's all about! Live in Ne0N, my pretty kitties! L8r!"

"Holy fucking shit," Yang said breathlessly. "That was nuts."

The other three members of Team RWBY were hunched around Weiss's Scroll, and they nodded in agreement.

"Did she really just punch those rock guys into pieces?" Blake asked. "Because, like… ow."

"That's the skill of a Solemn Faith Monk," Weiss warned them. "Let's hope we don't end up in the same bracket as her."

Yang laughed, smacking their fist into their palm. "Nah. Kinda just makes us want to punch us more if we're honest."

Blake lovingly rolled her eyes, resting her chin on Yang's large trap. Weiss pursed her lips, astonished and fearful of the full extent of Aura. Ruby said nothing.

"You better beat her record," Blake smirked. "Like, if you can't get as many kills as a musician, you should just quit being a Huntress."

Yang snickered, placing a quick peck on Blake's cheek. Their turn was next, and they motioned for the others to follow them out of the locker room. They hyped themselves up for their first true battle since the Vault, staying light on their feet and throwing a few false punches, imagining the impact of metal on stone. They threw down their fists, and the recently repaired Ember Celica extended over their fists, snugly sliding into place. It felt like home. They turned back to their team once last time, their eyes ablaze with passion.

"Please… I'm gonna kill 'em all."