"You aren't feeding it enough," Salem chided. "No wonder it won't listen to your whims."

Cinder scowled at her master's remark, but continued her attempt at flexing the fingers of her Grimm hand. What should have been an easy task was getting frustrating enough to pop a blood vessel on her forehead. Her fingers barely twitched, almost statuesque in how the rigid digits refused to bend.

She snarled. She cried. But, still, the fingers would not budge. It was enough to drive her mad. Enough to spark fire in her veins and start pacing around her bedroom, singing the carpet with each frustrated step—

"Hush." Salem coalesced behind her, draping her cold arms around Cinder's torso. Instinctively, Cinder leaned back, chasing the cool relief her master's touch brought to her burning skin. "You're only making it worse, riling yourself up like that. You must have patience."

Cinder grunted, but her gruff acknowledgment shifted to a shrill, needy whine the moment Salem pulled away from her. She had cooled off (both emotionally and physically), but she wasn't ready for the loss of contact. While she had always felt comfort at Salem's touch, ever since gaining her new arm before the war meeting a few days ago Cinder felt… drawn towards Salem. Magnetically so.

When Salem arched an eyebrow at her clingy actions, Cinder shook herself from her brief weakness and croaked, "I… did… feed… it."

"Your anger, while appetizing, isn't enough," Salem said. "It needs all the suffering you can give it, every dark thought that you have. Anything less would be starving it of its true potential."

"What… does… mean?" Cinder winced, both at the pain in her throat and at how splintered her speech sounded. It made her sound childish, as though struggling to speak a newly learned language instead of one of several she had been speaking for most of her life.

Salem's answer to her question was barely worth the effort it took to ask it. "It means exactly what I said. You must open your heart to it, and, in turn, it will open its own heart to you."

Cinder bit back a scoff. Salem, while powerful and godlike, had one frustrating flaw that Cinder could never get over: she could be so damn cryptic when she wanted to be.

Her mask must have slipped and let some of her annoyance spill out, as Salem frowned and clicked her tongue. "You knew this would be difficult, Cinder, and I cannot coddle you every step of the way. I can't give you a more specific answer because only you know what darkness still lurks inside yourself. The parts of yourself you are holding back."

Cinder clenched her teeth, annoyed. She held nothing back. She was a wildfire in both body and spirit, lashing out and consuming everything in her path. The most she had ever stifled herself (since escaping the Glass Unicorn) was during her undercover mission at Beacon. Even stuck with Ozpin's brats, she still found little ways to have fun and sow chaos.

Cinder was impulsive like that; it was her nature. She was willing to admit that about herself—her one flaw. Not impatience, as Salem insinuated (she wouldn't have been able to pull off Beacon's fall if that were the case), but the more that stood in her way, the more impulsive she became. The higher the peak, the less she could resist climbing it. It was a compulsion, almost. A hunger.

And she so despised starving herself of anything.

That's what made her recovery so infuriating. The waiting. The challenges stacking before her, rising high enough to breach the scarlet black sky of Evernight, taunting her as she struggled to reclaim her lost strength. Yet, despite the steep incline, she clawed her way back to most of her former glory.

So what could she possibly be holding back? What desire—or hatred—could she be repressing?

Wrestling herself for an answer, Cinder didn't notice Salem exiting the room until the hinges of the door swung open.

"I advise you to think more on this. There is nothing left I can do for you at this stage. Besides, right now…" Salem smiled gently. "There is someone else who needs my attention even more than you."

And just like that, the fire reignited in Cinder's veins. It itched across her skin, begging for either release or relief. Since the one being in the world capable of countering her anger just carelessly walked out the door, Cinder had no choice but to rush to her bedroom's window, fling it open, and force all of that blistering heat towards the open air.

Gouts of flame shot from her body at sporadic angles, splitting towards the sky and the ground in twin arcs. The Grimm prowling the castle's perimeter were too far to be struck by her fire, but a few of them still glanced warily in her direction.

The closest Grimm, a beowolf climbing along a banister a couple floors down, howled in unison with the roar of her flames. Only when she finished, breathing heavily and needing to lean against the windowsill to support herself, did it cease its incessant noise. It scuttled off when she glared at it, tail hiding between its legs.

Cinder blinked. It was… scared of her. But more than that, she could taste that fear, as clear and distinct as ash in her mouth. Since the day of the meeting, her senses had heightened, particularly towards the Grimm surrounding Evernight, but being able to feel what the Grimm were feeling was an entirely new and novel experience. As her anger ebbed away, she focused on that curious sensation and felt many others all around her:

The Nevermore circling the castle from the sky, just out of reach and sight.

The Seers gliding through the halls, trailing their tendrils against the floor.

And… something much more pronounced waiting just outside her door, the shape far less distinct and recognizable to her than the Grimm, but its emotions had so much more… depth. Texture…

Quality.

The beowolf's fear felt as tasteless as sand in her mouth, but the tangled knot of complex emotions outside her room felt seasoned, little hints of cinnamon and other spices hitting Cinder's nostrils so hard she drooled.

She shouldn't have been surprised when she heard the knock on her door, announcing Emerald's arrival before she stepped inside. Her pet carried a tray of food, but Cinder barely glanced at it, completely disinterested in its contents.

She suddenly had a very different kind of appetite.

Emerald bristled at Cinder's attention, stammering, "I… I brought your dinner."

Cinder licked her lips, not focused on the tray at all. "Yes… you… have."

It spoke volumes of her pet's conditioning that the trembling girl managed to set the tray safely out of the way before Cinder pinned her against the wall. Emerald squirmed inside Cinder's grip, shivering all over and rubbing her thighs together in anticipation. Cinder growled at the indecent display, shoving her knee between Emerald's legs to keep them separated.

"Control… yourself," Cinder rasped, refusing to let Emerald set the pace. Even if her Grimm hand's fingers wouldn't bend, the arm itself was still strong enough to hold her weight against the wall while her human hand settled against Emerald's hips and squeezed appreciatively.

"Y-yes, mistress," Emerald babbled, syllables slurring together as Cinder's knee pressed up and down against her crotch. "Anything for you."

Gods, her pet was alluring. So easily led, so easily turned to putty at her touch. Such good behavior deserved a reward.

Cinder became an artist as she groped and nibbled all over Emerald's body, massaging and pinching her malleable flesh like she was handling clay. She mixed in some of her Maiden powers to press heat into every inch she worked over, savoring the hitches in Emerald's breath at every unexpected change in temperature.

But the more she settled into spoiling Emerald, the less she could sense that tangled knot of emotions Emerald had carried before stepping into the room. Cinder tried to chase that fading flavor in the air, aiming to bite into it as she carved sharp kisses all over her pet's neck. Yet, despite her efforts, the mouth-watering aroma still vanished.

Cinder pulled away, snarling in frustration. "Where…" She gave Emerald another cursory once over, but couldn't find a trace of the previous buffet of emotions she sensed. "Where… it… go?"

Emerald breathed heavily, slowly crashing down from the high Cinder didn't care about nurturing anymore. "W-where… fuck… where did what go?"

"Your…" Cinder trailed off, not knowing how to explain it. Before Emerald walked in, there was something so tantalizing about her aura, something so deliciously fragrant that Cinder couldn't contain herself from seizing it and tasting it for herself. But whatever it was… it was gone now.

"...nothing," Cinder said, walking back towards her windowsill. "Just… nothing."

She focused again on the Grimm outside, testing whether this new power of hers had simply fizzled out. Yet, she felt them all just the same as before, still crawling and clawing and soaring through the shrouded wastes of Evernight. Whatever she had done was clearly some sort of Grimm ability, so it was most likely connected to her parasite.

Is that why it stopped working on Emerald just as it was getting good? Was it purposefully antagonizing her? Mocking her in the same way it kept her Grimm arm stiff and awkward to move? If it feared her, like Salem said it did, why was it testing her—

Wait. That made no sense at all.

It couldn't be testing her. Grimm could be smart, but not that smart. She was overthinking it. Especially when Salem already gave her the answer: she was holding something back. But what?

And how much longer do I have to figure it out?

A month ago, she thought her legs and her voice would be the worst of it. That once she crossed that finish line, once every part of herself obeyed her every command, it would be nothing but a flat horizon of steady progress. No more obstacles in her way, no more challenges to overcome. Just fields to burn and flatten beneath her heel.

But then her arm grew in. And Watts' new second-hand toy joined the race. After that—

She never felt farther behind in her life.

There was a deadline, now. A clock ticking on her recovery. When the hand struck midnight, would she have accomplished her goal? By the end of the dance, who would Salem choose? Cinder? Or the puppet?

It shouldn't have even been a question, but it was. That mere chance of losing made her clench her jaw and punch a hole in her wall. The action hardly scratched the depths of her Maiden-enhanced aura, but her right hand still throbbed with pain.

"Cinder?" Emerald called softly, watching her from the other side of the room. "Are you okay?"

"I'm… fine." Cinder ignored the pain in her human hand, attempting to flex her Grimm one again to no avail. "Just… thinking."

Emerald (for some damn reason) took that as an invitation to keep prying her about it. "Thinking about what?"

Cinder growled in response, tired of pushing her weary vocal cords. Until her throat healed up again, it was the most efficient way to communicate (she wanted to save her breath for more important matters). It lacked nuance, sure, but her pet was clever enough to fill the gaps. A well trained bitch, capable of knowing her mood from a few grunts and gestures.

Yet, despite her curt dismissal, her bitch kept barking at her.

"I know the last few days have been stressful, since the war meeting and all," Emerald said, approaching Cinder slowly. "But you've made so much progress. I'm sure if we just keep pushing through, we'll make a breakthrough any day now."

Cinder turned back towards the window and rolled her eyes. Yet another 'pep talk' from Emerald. She just… wouldn't shut up these days. Her attempts to remind Emerald of her place had been having… mixed results. Slapping her around once or twice used to be a good enough incentive to keep her mollified for weeks at a time, yet scarcely two days had passed since the meeting and Emerald was just as willing to test her boundaries as before.

Perhaps rewarding her so much before the meeting had spoiled her. Or maybe… hitting her had become part of the reward in Emerald's eyes? Cinder chuckled darkly at the thought.

My little gem certainly loves being treated roughly, doesn't she?

"I… you know I'm here for you, right?" Emerald continued, closing that last distance between them. "Like I said before, you don't have to keep it all in. Please, ma'am, talk to me."

The novelty of Emerald's affection started to lose its charm. Especially when Cinder had so much else on her mind. If mild violence wasn't enough to deter her little pet, her little gem—her spoiled bitch—then what was?

Perhaps it would be faster to ask directly.

"Why… push… me?" Cinder asked, struggling to understand Emerald's angle. "Why… care?"

Emerald froze. "Um…" She crossed her arms together and fidgeted with her wrists. "Do I need a reason?"

Cinder hoped for the love of the gods that the intense look in her eye was enough to communicate YES, she needed a reason.

Stop making me waste my voice.

Fortunately, it was enough to get her point across. Emerald struggled to make eye contact for a moment, bobbing her mouth open and closed instead of just spitting an answer out already.

When she finally did speak, she drew a shaky breath and spoke carefully. "Because… I love you, ma'am."

Cinder stared blankly. "...and?"

Emerald tilted her head. "What?"

"What… else?" Cinder spat out. She already knew her pet wanted to fuck her all the time, that was nothing new.

"I… that's the only reason, ma'am." She fiddled shyly with her hands, struggling to meet Cinder's eye. "I love you and I want to see you happy."

"...Bullshit." Mere attraction was not sufficient enough motivation to fuel Emerald's borderline obsession with her. Cinder wasn't conquering the world just because she loved someone hard enough, she was doing it for herself and her own lofty ambitions.

Sure, Emerald loved her, but why? What did she get out of it? Besides the obvious benefits (anyone would be honored to bed with Cinder), Emerald had already secured a position in Salem's circle. Even as low in the hierarchy as she was, she didn't need to mewl for scraps of affection from Cinder everyday to stay relevant, especially with a unique semblance like Hallucinations.

Unless… Emerald didn't understand that.

Was that it? She didn't know her own value, so she kept pushing herself on Cinder to validate her own worth? Was Cinder just the most pleasurable method of accomplishing that? She just wanted to use Cinder to feel important, to feel special?

Was Emerald using her and trying to lie about it?

The thought alone had Cinder seething, her vision tinting red as she backhanded Emerald across the face and shoved her onto the floor.

Emerald winced from the impact and stared up at Cinder with wide, teary eyes, as though she had done nothing to deserve this. "M-ma'am, I'm sorry, what did I do—"

"Admit… it!" Cinder snapped, pushing through each stabbing breath. "Admit… reasons."

"I don't know what you're talking about—"

"DON'T LIE TO ME!" Emerald wanted to test Cinder's boundaries, test her limits? Fine. She didn't care if she started coughing up blood, so long as it got Emerald to fucking listen. "Is it because you're weak, and I'm strong? Trying to survive off me like a fucking parasite?"

Emerald shook her head quickly. "N-no, ma'am, I just—"

"No? No, I'm not strong!?"

"Yes—I mean, no, that's not what I'm trying to—"

Cinder kicked her in the ribs. Hard. She jabbed her heel with enough force to send Emerald rolling across the room, slamming into the side of her bedpost. Even as Emerald cried out, green aura flaring brightly from the crash, Cinder continued to advance towards her with another kick. And another. And another. Each strike synced with her raspy words, so brokenly spoken that even though Cinder knew she was saying them, it was hard to know if Emerald could legibly make out the sounds through Cinder's angry spittle and ragged voice.

"Weak." Another kick to her ribs. "Pathetic." Another, aiming for her stomach. "Miserable… worthless… bitch!"

Emerald curled up into a defensive ball, sniveling ugly, messy tears all over Cinder's carpet. Her voice hitched with an annoying, wet stutter. "M-ma'am, please—"

Cinder shouted over her, voice drier than a forest fire, and just as choked with smoke. "Why can't you do anything right? Why won't you listen to me? Why won't you move?"

At this point, even Cinder didn't know who she was yelling at anymore, but it didn't stop her from taking it out on Emerald. It's what she wanted anyway, right? To be Cinder's outlet? Her pet, her toy, her punching bag—they were all meant for the same purpose:

To be used thoroughly.

Eventually, Emerald's aura broke in a shower of green sparks. But not before a familiar scent breached Cinder's nose, staining her tongue with a taste so overwhelmingly indulgent it almost made Cinder puke (so she could make more room for it in her stomach).

"Wait—" Cinder hacked painfully as her outbursts caught up with her, collapsing to her knees from how heavy her lungs felt. But the pain was nothing compared to the heavenly aroma in the air. This was the sensation that Cinder craved to sink her teeth into, this is what drew her towards Emerald like a vulture to a carcass.

Before Cinder could recover enough to pounce on the scent's source, Emerald rushed to stand up. The girl limped quickly towards the door, blubbering apologies as she escaped. "I-I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry…"

A part of Cinder wanted to chase after her, continue the punishment her pet so rightfully deserved for lying to her, but… she couldn't find the anger in her anymore. No, on the contrary, despite her wrecked throat and waning adrenaline—

Cinder was ecstatic, joy flooding through her veins like a narcotic. She finally understood what that sensation wafting around Emerald's aura was…

It was fear.

Fear, marinated with sadness, salted with rejection and self loathing. That was what Cinder was doing wrong, this was the desire she had left unfilled…

Embracing her Grimm side.

It was so simple. She was part Grimm now. And Grimm loved reveling in the suffering of others. Cinder was already quite the sadist, but now that she had a measurement tool to gauge the precise amount of pain she could instill on another person—

She grinned wickedly—

And instantly, the fingers on her Grimm hand twitched.

Emerald didn't care where she was going, only that it was far away from Cinder.

She didn't know what she did wrong, but she must have really messed up for Cinder to flip out like that. Was it the confession? Did Cinder not believe her? Was it crossing a professional boundary between them?

Or was it just Cinder being… Cinder. Maybe there was nothing Emerald could have done differently to change how she reacted. Maybe it was just inevitable. Understanding that possibility didn't make the bruises on her abdomen hurt any less, cringing at every labored step.

"You need to slow down," Ozpin interjected. "Your aura needs time to recover. Perhaps an early rest is in order."

Exiling herself beneath her covers did sound tempting… but if Cinder wanted to find her, her room would be the first place she'd check. Emerald wouldn't normally avoid Cinder on purpose but… they both needed space right now. So instead of returning to her own room, she picked a random guest room and stepped inside.

Because it was random, it didn't have all amenities prepared in it (no plumbing or electricity), but all she really needed was a good mattress to cry on. And cry she did, soaking the sheets with her tears and snot as she sobbed face down into a pillow.

Emerald didn't know how long she just layed there, pitying herself. By the time she pushed herself off her belly and tucked her knees to her chest, she felt a thin layer of her aura wash over her injuries. So, probably at least a few hours, then. Maybe around midnight or even later.

"So…" Ozpin began slowly. "Now what?"

Emerald wiped at her face, peeling away a dried, crusty layer of snot. "I don't fucking know. Sleep, I guess?"

"You don't want to talk at all?"

She rubbed her forehead. "About what?"

Ozpin scoffed incredulously. "'About what,' she says… what do you think?"

"There's nothing to talk about. Get off my ass about it."

"Emerald," Ozpin scolded, his tone wielding her name like a reprimand. "I could use many words to describe the violence I just witnessed, but 'nothing' is not one of them."

"She's just stressed," Emerald insisted, shrinking further against her knees. "She isn't normally that bad."

"Believe me, I know. I've seen all of your memories, remember? That doesn't make it okay—"

"Oh, you are not about to lecture me about relationships!" Emerald snapped. "Last I checked, your ex-wife burned you to death after you both murdered your own kids!"

"That… that was an accident," he replied evenly, the hurt in his voice almost making Emerald feel bad about bringing it up.

"Yeah? Well, maybe what just happened to me was an accident, too. You don't know her like I do. She's just… just under a lot of pressure right now, okay?"

Ozpin was slow to respond. "...perhaps so."

Emerald was ready to finish their conversation right then and there, but Ozpin interjected with something absurdly random.

"You know… that wasn't even the worst way she's killed me."

She sighed, already tired of whatever this conversation was. "What are you talking about now?"

"Salem. She's killed me in far worse ways than immolation. Perhaps the deaths of my children should weigh more heavily on that scale, but quite honestly it happened so quickly, I didn't process the event until long after their passing. Didn't truly hit me that they were gone until… maybe two incarnations afterwards?" He chuckled darkly. "Went on a century long depressive spiral after that."

"And I'm supposed to care, why?"

"I'm not asking you to, just reminiscing is all," Ozpin said simply. "Anyway, the worst way she ever killed me was with BDSM."

Even all the dark thoughts swimming in her head couldn't prevent Emerald from snorting at such an image. "What?"

"You heard me."

"As in…" She suddenly imagined Salem in an extremely risque outfit, a mesh of skintight leather and spikes. "As in, she choked you with a strap, or—"

"No, no. Nothing quite that graphic. You should be careful saying that aloud, though, wouldn't want to give her any ideas if she overheard us."

Great, he thought he was a real jokester now.

Ozpin ignored her and continued, "It wasn't even by Salem's hand directly. It was one of her enforcers before Tyrian's time, I think. A crocodilian faunus by the name of Tock." Ozpin's mind lightly grazed her own, passing on an image of a sickly woman with sharp teeth and an even sharper mohawk. "I have no idea where she is now, she just vanished off the planet one day. I can only assume she died on some asinine errand Salem gave her."

"Right, cool, but how do whips and leather play into this?" She couldn't believe it, but she was utterly invested in one of Ozpin's stories. It was a good distraction from the cut on her chin, her aura still too weak to stitch the wound all the way.

"Well, living for millennia can get boring after a while," Ozpin said. "You repeat so many of the same motions, it all sort of blurs together. To help prevent my lives from getting too similar from one another, I would sometimes… dabble in new hobbies to keep things interesting."

"Gross."

"Long story short, I became a recurrent visitor to a sex den in Mistral. I don't know how, but Salem's circle caught wind of it, and they devised a plan to kill me in such a way that I wouldn't expect it."

Emerald shook her head in disbelief. "That's… absolutely wild."

"Thank you, I tried." Even if Ozpin didn't have a face of his own anymore, Emerald could hear the smile in his voice. "But back to the story: Tock had disguised herself as one of the club's staff and sabotaged some of their supplies. Supplies that she guaranteed would find their way to one of my own scheduled sessions of debauchery."

"And by supplies, you mean—"

"I died from an exploding, dust-powered dildo."

Emerald couldn't help it; she laughed. Still curled up with her knees touching her chin, she fell onto her side and erupted into bubbling, tearful laughter.

Ozpin's voice chuckled with her, but nowhere near as hard. "Come now, it wasn't that humorous. It was quite an uncomfortable experience, I'll have you know."

"Were you—" She snorted again, struggling to form words through the involuntary inhales of her gasping breath. "Were you using it when it happened?"

Ozpin paused. "I don't have to answer that."

Emerald wheezed. She had to forcibly slow her breathing because she was laughing hard enough to jostle her bruises, even as her flickering aura patched her up.

After her laughter subsided, Ozpin asked, "Do you feel better now?"

"I mean, I still feel like absolute shit, but…" The fact that she could laugh at all after what happened earlier was surreal. "Yeah, whatever that was supposed to be, it helped."

"Good, I'm glad."

Emerald narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Wait, did you make up that story just to distract me?"

"No, that all really happened. The only 'lie' was it being the worst way I've died. Truthfully, I don't think I have a 'worst' death. They were all terrible. I've never died pleasantly before. At this point, that's my real dream: stop Salem so the Gods will finally let me rest."

Stopping Salem…right. That was a thing Emerald said she'd consider doing, wasn't it?

"Don't worry about that right now. You aren't in the headspace to discuss such things. I should know: I live there, and it's a mess."

"Ha-ha," Emerald deadpanned. But on the subject of Salem…

"Do you… do you still love her?"

Ozpin recoiled in her mind, slowly replying, "That is… quite the subject change."

"Just answer the question."

He sighed, choosing his words carefully. "I think that despite everything she has done to me, and the horrors she's released upon humanity, there is a part of me that will never stop loving her. Once upon a time, I gave her my heart. Even after she broke it, she will always have some claim over me, no matter how long it's been."

Emerald could relate to that. No matter what Cinder did, or how she treated her, Emerald just… could not hate her. Like she was incapable of doing such a thing.

"Yet, even if a piece of me still wants her back, that isn't enough to forgive her," Ozpin emphasized. "That single part of me doesn't have a strong enough voice to justify who she has become in my absence. So, yes, Emerald, I think I do still love her. But loving her will not change what I must do to keep Remnant safe."

Emerald nodded. "Cool."

"...Cool?" Ozpin repeated. "That's… that's all you took from that?"

"What you're saying makes sense, okay?" Emerald flung her hands up in defeat. "I get it. I get that it's selfish to put Cinder before the world, but…" she trailed off.

Emerald was going to say that, fundamentally, she knew it was selfish, but she was a selfish person. Even knowing Ozpin could hear her thoughts anyway didn't make it any less shameful to admit.

"She's all that I have," she decided to say instead. "She helped me when no one else would. I will love her no matter how much it hurts." And loving her hurt so much. Always. "I can't change that."

"Then don't," Ozpin replied with zero hesitation.

…What?

Baffled, Emerald took a moment to reply, "But you just said—"

"You don't have to give up Cinder for the world. All you have to do is succeed where I failed: prove that your love is enough to change her."

She shook her head at his cynical phrasing. "Wow, no pressure or anything."

"I didn't say it would be easy. But if helping you… fix Cinder is what it takes to recruit you, then so be it."

Ah, so that was his angle in this conversation. Another recruitment ploy.

"Is that wrong of me?" Ozpin asked, sounding more curious than chastised.

"No. If anything, I'm glad you're being more direct about it, unlike before." Emerald couldn't blame anyone for wanting something in exchange for doing something else. Relationships were more transactional than most people would admit. It wasn't a bad thing.

"Then… is it working?" He pressed. "Can we finally start drafting a strategy together?"

Emerald laid back against the bed, stretching out as she got herself comfortable again. "Little too tired for that right now, Oz. Maybe in the morning."

She expected him to fight her on that, but was surprised to feel a warm spark in her mind. Was it… relief?

"I'm just glad you're considering it, Emerald."

Before she could close her eyes (and shut down after this mostly awful day), Emerald did find herself curious about one last thing before nodding off. "Oz, you figure out a test for me yet? I might be willing to start listening to you, now, but I still want to know what you're hiding from me before I commit to anything big." And if he wasn't going to fill her in on the rest of his angsty backstory until she passed some cryptic test, well…

He'd better think of one before she changed her mind.

"Well," Ozpin began, clearly put on the spot as he stalled for an answer. "I've been mulling over a few ideas, and I was thinking maybe—"

He cut off as someone starting knocking on the door to the guest room, causing Emerald to spring from the bed as her mind jumped to one conclusion:

Cinder.

She considered waiting for the noise to pass, for her mistress to get bored and storm off elsewhere, but she knew that would just be delaying the inevitable. If Cinder knew she was in this room… well, even with a limp, a stiff arm, and a scratchy voice, there was no way a simple door could stop a Maiden from getting anywhere she wanted to be. Especially not Cinder.

Despite Ozpin thrumming with disapproval behind her forehead, she stepped towards the door, took a deep, stuttering breath, and grabbed the handle. Her hand shook as every half-healed laceration and bruise on her body stung with anticipation, but she pushed past that echoing pain—

And opened the door.

Emerald knew it was always stupid to try to get the first word in with Cinder, but she had to try something! "Ma'am, again, I'm so sorry I…" she trailed off, words failing her as she did not find Cinder waiting in the hall at all.

Standing outside the door, green eyes jittering anxiously as she fiddled with the hem of her skirt, was one Penny Polendina.

"Ruby?" Penny asked quietly, fiddling with the hem of her skirt. "Can we talk?"

Standing directly behind Penny, gripping her pale hand on the android's shoulder, was Salem herself. "Yes, Ruby, can we talk?" The tone of her voice did not sound like a question.

"Well," Ozpin began. "This is surprising."

Yeah, Emerald thought as she gawked at both Penny AND Salem like an idiot. No shit.