The air smelled of salt. A gentle breeze carried the scent of the sea, the rhythm of waves lapping at the shore providing a distant, melancholic lullaby. The sand beneath her fingers was fine and cool, though the warmth of the twin suns above threatened to change that soon.

Pyrrha Nikos lay on her back, staring at the sky.

Two suns.

Two.

She wanted to laugh, but the sound caught in her throat. Instead, she let out a choked breath, barely above a whisper.

It didn't make sense.

None of this made sense.

One moment she was surrounded by war, standing in a city preparing for its last stand. She had watched Jaune Arc, clad in full armor, raise a sword that should not have been his to wield. She had heard Nora and Ren lament her departure, watched as they stood together one last time before she was whisked away.

And now… she was here.

Wherever here was.

Pyrrha squeezed her eyes shut, digging her fingers into the sand, gripping it as if it would ground her, anchor her to something.

Her chest felt tight, her body trembling as everything she had just experienced crashed down on her like an avalanche.

She had fought alongside them, her friends, but they were not hers.

They were a bit older, hardened by a war that had all but consumed them.

And she… she had to watch it. Witness it.

Their possible end.

Pyrrha bit her lip so hard she tasted blood.

She had thought, maybe for a moment, that she could help. That she could do something. But in the end, all she could do was leave.

All she ever did was leave.

A sob racked through her before she could stop it.

She curled in on herself, pressing her forehead against her knees, arms wrapped tightly around her legs.

It wasn't fair.

Seeing that.

She had been thrown into another war. Another battle. Another fight that was never hers to begin with.

It felt cruel.

Seeing them weighed by the world.

Her friends remaining firm despite the darkness.

Unafraid.

Jaune, not the one she knew, still had the same noble heart. She had watched him charge into a sea of Grimm, wielding a sword that burned brighter than the stars, sacrificing everything for the people he swore to protect.

All she could escape.

Her sobs turned into quiet gasps, her shoulders shaking violently.

She didn't know how long she stayed like that, curled up on the beach, drowning in the weight of it all.

She barely noticed the soft thud of paws against the sand.

A low, familiar chuff.

Then warmth.

A soft, steady warmth pressed against her side.

Juniper. The golden jackalope nestled against her, fur brushing against her trembling fingers. Pyrrha blinked through her tears, lifting her head just enough to see those familiar golden eyes staring at her.

A presence behind her.

Boots sinking lightly into the sand.

Pyrrha turned and standing just a few feet away was a woman in a red hood.

Autumn. Her silver eyes, so much like Ruby's, regarded her with quiet understanding.

"It must have been hard," Autumn said, her voice gentle, laced with something Pyrrha couldn't quite place. "Seeing all that."

Something knowing.

Pyrrha inhaled sharply, her grief and frustration morphing into something sharp, something angry.

"Why?" she demanded, voice hoarse from crying. "Why was I sent there?"

Autumn tilted her head slightly, hands resting on her hips. "Who knows?"

Pyrrha clenched her fists, the anger bubbling inside her like a storm.

"You—" she bit out, rising shakily to her feet, her entire body trembling, accusing. "You knew what I would find. You knew I'd see them, that I'd—" her voice cracked, another sob threatening to escape. "Why?"

Autumn let out a small sigh, stepping forward.

Then, with a faint smile, she simply said.

"Welcome to the Everafter... a place separate from Remnant."

Pyrrha blinked.

The Everafter.

The name echoed in her mind, stirring something deep within her.

She turned away, glancing toward the horizon, past the endless stretch of golden sand and rolling waves.

And there, in the distance, was a tree.

No, not just a tree.

Pyrrha turned, voice hoarse. "You said this place is separate from Remnant."

Autumn nodded. "It is."

"How?" Pyrrha demanded. "How is any of this possible?"

Autumn's gaze flickered to the distance, where the sea met the sky in an endless stretch of blue. "The Everafter exists between the void," she explained. "A place caught between everything and nothing. It was never meant to be part of Remnant nor it will ever be. You could call it the land where the Brothers came."

Pyrrha swallowed hard, the words settling heavily in her chest. "Then how did I end up here?"

Autumn's lips pressed into a thin line before she answered. "It's… unlikely for anyone to just fall here." She paused, tilting her head. "Unless it's… destiny."

Pyrrha let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "Oh, of course. Destiny." Her voice dripped with sarcasm, eyes burning with unshed tears. "Because it's my destiny to fall into every place I don't belong, isn't it?"

Autumn didn't waver. "When you're needed the most."

That was too much. Too much.

Pyrrha's grief turned into something sharp, something uncontainable.

"That wasn't my fight!" she snapped, her voice cracking. "I—" She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms. "I just want to spend time… in Beacon… learning… I—"

Her breath hitched. The emotions she had held back for so long surged all at once, threatening to break her.

Autumn's expression softened, as if she had expected this. "I know," she murmured. "That would be best. But you're not in an era where you could do so."

Pyrrha's throat tightened.

"You were born into a time of conflict," Autumn continued gently. "One way or another, you will all be led into the troubles. It's an unfair destiny."

Pyrrha shook her head, her mind scrambling to reject those words. "No," she whispered.

"One will carry the weight of the world, carrying a message of hope," Autumn said, her silver eyes glinting with something knowing. "And one becomes a fairy tale for many Huntsmen to be inspired by."

Pyrrha's breath hitched. Her body felt cold, her thoughts spiraling. "What does that mean?"

Autumn didn't answer right away. Instead, she stepped forward and, without hesitation, wrapped Pyrrha in a firm embrace.

Pyrrha stiffened.

She hadn't expected this.

Autumn didn't say anything at first, just held her close, letting her warmth speak where words failed. Pyrrha's breath came out shaky, her body trembling as everything, the war, the loss, the aching loneliness came crashing down.

She had been on that world for weeks.

It was painful.

Her fingers clenched at Autumn's cloak, her face burying against her shoulder. And finally, finally, she let herself break.

Dirty tears spilled from her eyes, streaking down her face as sobs wracked through her body.

"I'm sorry you had to see all of that," Autumn whispered, her voice barely above the wind.

Pyrrha couldn't respond. She couldn't do anything but cry.

Minutes passed, maybe hours. Time didn't feel real here.

Eventually, the sobs dulled into quiet sniffles. Pyrrha remained in Autumn's arms for a moment longer before slowly pulling back, wiping at her face with the back of her hand.

Autumn gave her a small nod, then turned her gaze toward the shoreline.

A small hut stood there, built from driftwood and stone. It wasn't much—just a simple shelter against the vastness of this strange world.

"Come," Autumn said gently. "You need rest."

Pyrrha hesitated but, with a slow inhale, followed.

The scent of something warm and savory filled the small hut, wrapping around Pyrrha like a comforting embrace. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, illuminating the wooden walls with a flickering amber glow. Pyrrha sat on the floor, arms wrapped around her knees, watching as Autumn moved with practiced ease, stirring a simmering pot.

The rhythmic clink of a wooden spoon against the metal pot was strangely soothing. For a moment, Pyrrha let herself focus on that, on the simple, domestic act of cooking. It was a stark contrast to the chaos she had been thrust into.

"You've done this before," Pyrrha murmured.

Autumn let out a small hum of agreement. "I used to cook with Rusty all the time."

At that, Pyrrha lifted her head slightly, curiosity flickering in her tired green eyes. "Rusty?"

Autumn tilted her head, a fond smile playing on her lips. "Jaune's master. The Rusted Knight."

Pyrrha froze. Her breath caught in her throat as realization settled in. She turned to Autumn, wide-eyed.

"…Is he?"

Autumn's silver eyes met hers, knowing and calm. "He is."

The weight of those words sank deep into Pyrrha's chest.

It made too much sense. The Rusted Knigh.. Jaune's master. How had she not put it together before?

Autumn stirred the pot slowly, the steam curling upward. "It was a selfish wish for himself," she admitted, her voice softer now. "To make sure that, at the very least, an iteration of Jaune could go to Beacon prepared."

Pyrrha swallowed hard, trying to process everything. "So… he trained here?"

Autumn nodded, a small chuckle escaping her lips. "Oh, Jauney boy probably doesn't even remember how long he's been training here. Rusty kinda went overboard with the training."

Pyrrha exhaled sharply, shaking her head. The sheer magnitude of what she was learning was overwhelming.

"Is it his destiny?" she asked quietly. "To become the Rusted Knight?"

Autumn's stirring slowed.

"I don't know," she admitted. "Right now, the Rusted Knight still exists, mind you. The one who taught Jaune never left this place, unlike the Jaune you saw in that place," She gestured vaguely toward the world outside. "Just as there are many branches in the trees, there could be different scenarios happening. Maybe he will, maybe he won't."

Pyrrha let out a slow breath, pressing a hand to her forehead. "It's… a lot to take in."

Autumn let out a short laugh, setting the spoon aside. "I can't blame you. You've already faced so much."

There was something wistful in Autumn's voice, something almost… regretful. Pyrrha turned her gaze to the other woman, studying her carefully.

"…You didn't want to interfere, did you?" Pyrrha asked.

Autumn went still. The flickering fire cast shadows across her face, making the emotions there unreadable.

"No," she admitted after a long pause. "I didn't."

Pyrrha frowned. "Why?"

Autumn sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. "Originally… I didn't want to help Jaune fight in Menagerie. I didn't want to get involved in any of it." She exhaled slowly, as if letting go of something heavy. "Remnant… I don't think of it as my home anymore."

Pyrrha's breath caught. "You don't?"

Autumn shook her head. "Yes. Because I'm just a coward who ran from it all." Her voice was quiet, almost bitter. "I chose a path that led to death and now… I'm just me."

Silence stretched between them, filled only by the crackling fire and the bubbling of the soup.

Finally, Pyrrha whispered, "Can I go home?"

Autumn glanced at her, then gave her a small, knowing smile.

"You can," she said. "But you need to sleep. And eat."

As if on cue, she lifted a wooden bowl, carefully ladling soup into it before stepping forward and handing it to Pyrrha.

Pyrrha hesitated for only a moment before taking it, the warmth seeping into her hands.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she let out a slow breath.

And she ate.

The scent of the sea lingered in the night air, cool and crisp, carrying the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore. The fire outside the hut had burned low, its embers casting faint, flickering shadows along the walls. Pyrrha sat on the wooden steps just outside, her empty bowl resting beside her, the warmth of the meal still settling in her stomach.

But her thoughts were far from the simple comfort of food.

She turned her gaze toward Autumn, who stood at the water's edge, her red cloak billowing slightly in the wind. Autumn was motionless, arms crossed, her silver eyes fixed on the horizon as if searching for something beyond the sea.

Something about the way she stood unsettled Pyrrha.

She glanced around. Juniper was nowhere to be seen. That was odd... she had been with them since she arrived here. Had she wandered off? Or had Autumn sent her away?

The quiet stretched between them, thick with unspoken words. Pyrrha finally broke the silence.

"How long have I been gone?" she asked.

Autumn's back stiffened slightly. There was a pause before she slowly raised her hand and lifted two fingers.

Pyrrha frowned. "What does that mean?"

Autumn let out a slow breath, then turned to face her, her expression neutral.

"Two months," she said.

Pyrrha felt the world tilt beneath her.

Her breath hitched. "Two… months?" she repeated, barely able to process the words. "You mean to tell me I've been gone for two whole months?!"

Autumn didn't flinch under her outburst. She simply watched, letting the weight of the revelation settle. "It could have been worse, to be honest."

Pyrrha's heart pounded against her ribs. Two months. Had they searched for her? Had they thought she was dead?

She clenched her fists, the pressure grounding her. "They must think something happened to me," she muttered, half to herself.

Autumn shook her head. "They know you went somewhere."

Pyrrha's head snapped up. "What?"

Autumn sighed, running a hand through her windswept hair. "To put it simply, they probably believe I took you away for training."

Pyrrha stared at her in disbelief. "And they just… accepted that?"

"They don't have a choice," Autumn said evenly. "Things have been moving fast. They didn't have time to sit around wondering about what-ifs."

Pyrrha's thoughts raced. She inhaled deeply, steadying herself. "Where are they now?"

Autumn hesitated before answering.

"They've already returned to Beacon."

Pyrrha exhaled slowly. A part of her had hoped they would still be out there, searching, waiting for her. But no… they had moved on. Still… knowing she's alive must have made them able to pick that choice.

Her voice was quieter when she spoke next. "What happened in Menagerie?"

The change in Autumn's posture was subtle, but Pyrrha noticed. The way her shoulders tensed, the way her fingers curled slightly.

"It was a tragedy," Autumn said, voice subdued.

Pyrrha's stomach tightened. "Tell me."

Autumn was silent for a moment, as if debating how much to reveal. Finally, she spoke.

"Atlas continued bombing the place after picking the survivors up."

Pyrrha sucked in a sharp breath. "They did what?"

"Yes, they did," Autumn's expression darkened, the firelight catching the edges of her silver eyes. "And then they ran a PR campaign, claiming they 'saved' Menagerie."

Pyrrha couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Despite what they did?"

"Yes." Autumn's lips curled into something bitter. "They obliterated what they called an existential crisis. Right now, the story being told is that Atlas had no choice but to take preemptive action — after releasing footage of the Wyvern it was the accepted fact."

Pyrrha gritted her teeth. "So the world thinks…?"

"That there was a civil war in Menagerie," Autumn explained. "That the people there turned into Grimm. And before those Grimm could spread to the rest of Remnant, Atlas risked everything to 'protect' the world."

Pyrrha's hands trembled at her sides.

"The Faunus won't accept that," she said.

"No, they won't," Autumn agreed. "But what can they do? Atlas controls the CCT, the news, the economy. They have millions of Lien invested everywhere. Even if they turned Menagerie into nothing but ruins, all they have to do is make an offer, out of goodwill, despite all the White Fang and Menagerie did to Atlas, to 'restore' it. And Menagerie will have no choice but to accept."

Pyrrha's breath came unevenly, her mind reeling.

"And Sienna Khan?" she asked carefully.

Autumn's jaw tightened. "They could have arrested her. Could have detained her and her people for being former White Fang." She exhaled, the tension in her body palpable. "But instead, they chose this."

Pyrrha closed her eyes for a moment, steadying herself. When she opened them again, her path was clear.

"I want to go home. I can't stay here anymore."

Autumn watched her for a long time, searching for something in her expression. Finally, she nodded. She brought two fingers to her lips and let out a sharp whistle.

A rustle came from the trees. Moments later, Juniper emerged from the forest, her golden eyes calm but knowing.

Pyrrha ran a hand through her fur, feeling its familiar warmth. She looked back at Autumn.

Autumn didn't say anything at first. Then, she simply nodded.

Pyrrha climbed onto Juniper's back, and in an instant, they were gone, vanishing into the jungles of the Everafter.

Autumn remained standing there for a long while, the sea breeze brushing against her cloak. Then, with a slow exhale, she reached down and pulled something from her waist.

The Staff of Creation.

She held it tightly, the cool metal grounding her. Then, with a single thought, she willed a portal into existence.

Stepping through, she emerged into chaos.

Below her, the battlefield stretched wide, illuminated by fire and dust. The scent of blood and smoke was thick in the air.

In the midst of it all, Ren dragged a burnt and bloodied Jaune away from the fray, his face burnt and twisted with desperate determination.

Further ahead, Team RWBY stood their ground, their weapons raised, their bodies exhausted but unyielding as they faced down Salem herself.

And then there was this world's Ruby Rose.

Autumn's gaze lingered on the girl, on the way her silver eyes shone with unbending resolve, even in the face of absolute destruction.

Autumn felt something twist in her chest.

She envied her.

That unwavering will.

That certainty.

What made this Ruby Rose so different from a coward like her?