Note: Ah, nothing like getting back in the writing swing. I don't really have any deadlines or anything for this. Just gonna write as often as I can. Yada yada discord, Vytal, yada, you know the drill, enjoy.

Li Caccia. Town of the Huntsmen. A brief drive through the scenery was in order.

After deboarding their airship, Team RWBY was escorted around the streets in a car, its model several decades old. Everything within Li Caccia had an older feel to it, and Ruby was quite familiar with its reasons. The town's history was well-documented and was required reading in any Huntsmen course. At the end of the Great War, in the same region where the first strikes of the war were cast, a town was rebuilt by many Huntsmen who were jobless after the war. The town was constructed as both a memorial to the Huntsmen who were felled in combat, as well as to honor those who would continue to fight for the liberty and prosperity of mankind. It was built in the old way, maintained by the grit and steady work of a passioned, dedicated culture of former warriors. It became a haven for the lost, and eventually a shrine to understanding the complexities of the culture Huntsmen had accumulated throughout millennia.

And that culture was something a younger Ruby found deeply fascinating. Even now, riding through the streets in an opened-top vehicle, she was compelled to breathe in the atmosphere. The first thing that hit her was the smell: she was hit with the waft of fresh bread, newspaper, and sea salt. The road beneath her was paved with cobblestone, as were all roads in the tightly woven town. The buildings tended to follow the same design pattern as well: two stories or under, made of tan limestone and packed together so there was no space between them. Their roofs consisted of reddish-brown clay tiles, slanted toward the streets. There was no modern signage; above each shop was a wooden post suspended outward over the sidewalk, white lettering painted atop it. With the exception of the hotels—which towered above the rest of the buildings—Ruby did not recognize any of the brands. There wasn't much in the way of greenery, but every now and then Ruby saw a tree planted on a street corner, leaves just beginning to blossom, and golden pears beginning to fruit. The streets were filled not with cars, but crowds of people having flocked in from the mainland. Police in strange, light garments wandered through the burgeoning crowds on horseback, keeping the town orderly. The locals waved politely when they noticed Team RWBY passing. The spectators cheered.

Ruby noticed a few sights as they traveled. The Statue of Lucas was a prominent fountain near the town's eastern edge, located in the middle of a roundabout. It depicted Lucas Granger, a legendary Huntsman from two hundred years past known for his violent exploits. Its copper was somewhat stained and tinted green by the time Team RWBY drove past it; two handymen were hard at work scrubbing it. The Museum of Huntsmen History was also en route, possessing the largest collection of Huntsmen weapons, artifacts, and documents anywhere in the world. In the fifth grade, Ruby petitioned her school to visit there for a class trip. She was turned down, and never really got over it. Take that, Mrs. Sheffield.

There were a few more relevant locales as well. While the tournament itself was held in Amity Colosseum, which Ruby could spot flying a thousand feet in the air from anywhere in the town, the Vytal Festival as a whole was spread throughout. There was Main Street, where the parade of Huntsmen would be held that night; a large platform had been constructed for the opening ceremony, in which all competitors would take part. There was the training center, kept off limits from the general public, where any of the competitors could visit to get in sparring, exercise, or test themselves before battle. There was Remembrance Hall, where on the third day, the Huntsmen's Gala would be held—which reminded Ruby to double-check her bag because now she couldn't remember if she packed her dress. Ruby could see occasional armored vehicles passing by containing Dust shipments. Surely none were headed to the Atlasian students after the stunts Ironwood had pulled.

But on the west side of town as their destination. The buildings faded away and the sidewalks became scant of life. The peach trees doubled in number, and the cobblestone road took a winding path as it swerved away from civilization. Eventually, they came upon the exterior of a large gated community. There were thick barriers surrounding the entire facility, and several guards patrolled around the perimeter. A structure had been built next to a nearby hedge, showcasing two swords crossed above a shield, and bold lettering carved into a stone plaque.

Champions' Village

The driver showed his credentials, and the path before them opened. As they drove through, the mood changed. While from the outside the community seemed like a prison, inside they saw it for what it really was: a small suburb of sixteen deluxe wooden cabins in a gorgeous, woodland park. It was to be their home for the next twelve days as the Festival played out, and inside, the smells and sounds of civilization fled away into a natural serene silence. The section of the Village for Beacon students was called Plyard's Grounds, named for the first Valian Huntsmen to win a Vytal Festival Tournament. It was the closest to the entrance, surrounded by summer trees and crested on the top of a green hill. The four cabins were structured in a square, each separated by roughly twenty yards, and in their center was a garden filled with more variety and colors of flowers than Ruby could comprehend. Practically every plant in Vale was represented in some way, and Ruby could see bees and birds fluttering around the petals as the driver pulled up to their cabin.

They unloaded the car and took in the peace as the driver retrieved their bags. On the front stoop of their cabin, Ruby saw what seemed to be a gift basket. She leaned over and examined its contents. She saw a bottle of non-alcoholic grape juice and a variety of snacks—their favorite snacks, in fact. She thought it was somewhat suspicious when the pilot asked them what it was. It was all tied up in a bright red ribbon, and there was a postcard attached that Ruby read aloud.

"Dear Team RWBY.

We hope you enjoy your stay at Champions' Village. These are for your enjoyment. Happy Hunting!

-The Vytal Committee."

Ruby smiled. That was nice of them. And then Blake walked over and ruined it.

"So, those are definitely poisoned, right?"

"What? No, they're gifts," Ruby insisted.

"Yeah. To poison us," Blake said suspiciously. "Like, if I was Ozpin and I didn't want us to compete, I'd send us poison snacks. I know at least one of us would eat them."

Weiss chimed in as she gathered her three massive suitcases. "Blake, please. If you wanted us dead, you would just shoot us in the middle of Ruby's backyard."

"You're right," Blake shrugged. "And if you wanted me dead, you'd just pussy out at the last second."

"Regret it more every minute."

"Love ya, bitch."

"Guys, stop quipping," Yang said excitedly. "We're finally here! This place is amazing! Let's go inside!"

"Hold on, where's the key?" asked Weiss.

"Oh, here it is," Ruby said, reaching into the gift basket. Like everything else in Li Caccia, the key was pulled from a different era: thick and ironed, like she was opening the door to a padded cell. If the inside of their cabin turned out to be a giant prison, now that would be a good trap set by Ozpin.

The interior of the cabin was not a trap laid by Ozpin; fortunately, it was just a really nice log cabin. Was it as nice as the Schnee Villa in Vacuo where they went on vacation? No. Not even close. But there were a few amenities. Plenty of windows to let in the fresh woodland air. A common area with a good television to watch the other tournament matches or any other related news. There were weapon racks on the walls, and portraits of Huntsmen past that made Ruby's inner child squeal and Blake gag. There was also a small kitchen and dining area, as well as a patio where they could eat their meals among nature. Ruby tapped her knuckles against the thick logs lining up the walls. Stories had it that when Huntsmen began hunting monsters in a particular region, they would build a house just like this instead of a smaller encampment. They would spend up to several years in the same area, methodically clearing out beasts of all shapes and sizes. However, unlike this modern construction, they probably didn't have air conditioning or Scroll chargers.

"All right, team," Ruby announced. "Find your rooms, get settled, then let's meet down here in ten." Actually, some of them might need to use the bathroom first. "Um, twenty. Let's go twenty."

The others rushed off to find their rooms, with Yang leading the pack. They effortlessly hoisted the suitcase up the stairs and hurried to find where they would sleep. There was always something exciting about traveling, and staying in a new, exotic area. Though their experience may have been heightened by how traumatic the prior two weeks had been. They quickly found a room to call their own at the top of the stairs. The bedrooms were small, with most of the space being taken up by the beds. They each came with their own bathroom, which was nice, and there was enough room in the corner for Yang to place their suitcase. Once it was out of the way, they plopped onto the bed, splaying their limbs everywhere, spine stiffening against the tough mattress. The rusted springs barely had any give, and the white blankets were so thick they could suffocate in them. But Stiltskin's body morphing had left their back feeling like gelatin, so the change in texture felt quite pleasant. Their eyes wandered to the still ceiling fan hanging above their bed, and they relaxed into the moment.

"Damn, you got comfortable quick."

A voice took them right back to reality. Blake was standing in the doorway, hiding a smile. She had already put her suitcase away, but while the others were still getting settled, she was going to use the opportunity she rarely had.

"I was going to help you unpack, but it looks like you went straight for napping."

"We can't help it if travel wears us out," Yang sighed. "Wanna join us?"

"No, because we'll just have to get up again."

"Fine. We'll just get up now."

Yang pushed up their legs and jumped off the bed. They spread their arms wide as if expecting Blake to be impressed, but their Faunus girlfriend was distracted by the very slight wobble in Yang's knees when they landed.

"How are you feeling?" Blake asked gently.

"Honestly? Totally fine," Yang promised.

"You sure?"

"Blake…"

"I'm just… I want to be careful."

"The doctors checked us out, and we're cleared," Yang said calmly. They placed their hands on Blake's shoulders and squeezed. "We appreciate that you're concerned, but we're going to be fine."

Blake sighed. "I know. Sorry. Just… Vytal is dangerous. The pressure is high enough as it is, you know? I don't want anything going wrong."

"We'll both be fine," Yang promised. "There's no way some kids from Vacuo are going to be more dangerous than a Maiden, right? We're badasses. Right?"

Blake held back a laugh, gently removing Yang's hands. Yes, they were badasses, and she was happy that Yang was showing some confidence. How much of it was genuine, though, she suspected little. Yang was strong. No question about it. They were the strongest person Blake knew. But they both knew their limits now. The Maiden made it abundantly clear just how low they were on that totem pole. This current burst of enthusiasm could very well just be adrenaline from healed wounds. When Yang finally stepped into that arena and faced down their first foe, would they be ready? Hell, would she be ready? When was the last time she fought anyone one-on-one that didn't result in her getting her ass kicked? If she let down her teammates again…

Yang must have been able to read her fears because they lifted up Blake's chin with their finger and made her look them in the eye. "Hey… we'll be all right. We promise."

Blake tried to nod through it. They both did. How good were promises neither of them could keep?

Then again, sometimes broken promises were a good thing. It was a broken promise that led them back to each other… right here…

Staring into each other's eyes…

Alone…

They were both stuck in stunned silence for a few seconds, a gentle blush crossing both their faces as Yang realized what Blake was really there for. They laughed awkwardly, drowning in the tension.

"So, uh…" they stuttered. "Wanna make out?"

Blake stared at them in disbelief. Yang stared back, though their eyes constantly darted around the room every two seconds because the sheer overwhelming power of Blake's golden gaze nearly knocked them into a coma.

"God, you're so fucking bad at this," Blake muttered.

"W-What?" Yang said defensively. "We're asking! We're trying to make sure we aren't crossing a boundary."

"Yeah, and like… I mean, that's good," Blake groaned. "But like… fuckin'… nuance or something."

"When have we ever shown nuance?"

"You can definitely be nuanced."

"We're glad you think that of us, but no?"

"I mean, it's just mood-killing is all," Blake clarified. "Say something like…" Blake narrowed her eyes and gave her voice a sultry rasp. "We have twenty minutes to kill… all by ourselves…" She switched back to her normal voice. "And then the implication carries it."

Yang's blush grew even deeper. Blake rolled her eyes.

"Was that too hot?"

"A little?"

Blake wrapped her arms around Yang's neck, and before the dragon could react, they received a quick peck on the lips. It took a long time for their relationship to reform. They never even officially declared it. There was simply one too many moments of trust between them, and they knew that they were right back to where they swore they would never be. But this time, they promised each other it was going to be different. No casual hookups, no toxic enabling, and no secrets. They were going to take it as slow as they needed to for this to work. Everything in the open, with both each other and the rest of their team. If there was a problem, they would immediately talk it over. How long they expected that to last, well… it was them. They both knew they were giant disasters.

But they wanted this to work. Maybe Vytal wouldn't give them much time together, but in the short moments like these, when the rest of the world faded away, they would have in each other a rock to keep them steady. Here, they were comfortable.

The kiss lasted only a fraction of a second, but as Blake pulled away, Yang still felt butterflies in their stomach. Blake rolled her eyes again.

"God, you're a mess."

"We know," Yang smirked. "But we're yours."

"Now that," Blake tapped Yang on the nose. "That's a much better thing to say."

"Yatsu, you really don't have to—"

"It's more than okay."

"I can carry them."

"No, no, allow me."

Yatushashi Daichi was such a gentleman, and Velvet realized once again how lucky she was to have him. He hoisted her suitcase up the stairs without any complaint, easily carrying her belongings on his massive shoulders. He had been exceptionally kind to her these past several weeks. Getting her food. Doing her homework. Listening to every slight request she could possibly have. Any other time, and she might have considered it a bit too much, annoying even. But she had some spectacularly bad months, and being pampered by her boyfriend came close to making up for it.

Simply looking at Velvet now wouldn't have revealed what happened. Aside from a slight red mark underneath her right eye, she looked like the polite and charming Huntress student she always was. But beneath her skin, her body was a mess of patchwork fixes, bones quickly fused together, nerves hastily reattached, and a Soul that didn't quite sit right in her core. She could see out of both eyes now—God, that Stiltskin was a miracle worker through and through—but he couldn't do a thing to repair her Aura or Semblance. Neither had materialized since the Vault, since she was crushed beneath the Maiden's hand and revived by Ruby's black magic. Her new lease on life could only sometimes distract her from the existential dread of being powerless in a Huntsmen tournament, where losing would curse the world to a terrible fate.

So, no… she didn't mind Yatsu carrying her bags up the stairs. She was glad to have someone so caring look out for her in these troubling times. She didn't see his smile break as he turned away from her.

As for the rest of her team, well, they had already made themselves at home. Coco lounged on the couch, head pressed against the armrest as she munched on the snack the Committee provided them. Biscotti biscuits with a chocolate drizzle. Fox sat at the kitchen table, his chin resting on the back of the chair. Velvet noticed his scowl and cautiously approached him.

"Fox, are you all right?"

"Yeah, just… thinking about stuff," he said dryly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Velvet asked.

"Not really."

"Wow, how specific," Coco piped in from the couch. She took a loud crunch of her biscotti, which echoed in Fox's ears.

"It's nothing. Really."

"Hey, if you don't want to talk about it, that's on you," Coco shrugged. Fox thought he heard some slight hostility in her voice—which if there was, may have been well deserved.

Fox kind of fucked up during their exploration of the Vault. His natural curiosity almost got Velvet butchered, and since Velvet did end up dying, Coco and Yatsu had spent the past two weeks swarming and coddling her like a newborn baby. The side effect of that was that Velvet's frustrations toward him had bled into them, and there was a lingering tension with him winding up on the outside of their team. He knew he would be let back in eventually. A new drama could come along and this whole thing would be forgotten; plus, he never minded having some time to himself. But this was clearly Velvet's time, and in Velvet's time, all of the focus was on her, and her priorities and opinions became everyone else's priorities and opinions. It wasn't necessarily malicious or even intentional, but that was just how it happened. So Fox kept his mouth shut, wondering when someone else's time would finally begin.

"Velvet, want a cookie?" Coco asked, teasingly waving the crunchy delight in the air. Velvet politely turned her down.

"You enjoy them. I'm not very hungry now."

"Feeling okay?"

"Just nerves, I suppose."

"Nerves? Hey, we're in Vytal!" Coco said enthusiastically. "Hell, I get to see my parents tomorrow! Haven't seen them in forever."

"Your mom is very nice," Velvet agreed. "But you really aren't nervous about Vytal at all?"

"You mean fighting?" Coco flashed her a cool smile. "When do I get nervous about anything?"

Coco was fucking terrified. Not for herself—she knew that she could handle herself in a one-on-one fight. But for Velvet? Damn, thinking of that defenseless girl in a no-holds-barred conflict created a pit in her stomach. There were so many fighters with abilities and weapons that she didn't know, and any one of them could seriously injure Velvet… or worse. Plus, they were in Vytal as well, and the thought that Velvet might go up against one of them, she didn't even want to consider.

Now, if someone else were to get their hands on them…

Coco hadn't heard a peep from Team JJWL since. They did not arrive on the same flight as the rest of Team NYBF, and there was no car parked outside the last of the four cabins. But they would be here, eventually. Living right next store. Plotting. Laughing. Waiting to decimate their competition. Coco held her breath. It may have been selfish of her, but she wanted to take them on. She wanted to inflict every ounce of misery upon them that they forced onto Team CFVY. If she could get into a ring with Luci Wyld, or Nevan Jupitarian, or damn, if she was lucky, Vivian…

The headmasters couldn't hold her back anymore.

It'd be just her, JJWL, and a fuckton of bullets.

And then they'd see how vicious she could really be.

Her entire life had been building to this moment.

Training every day.

Studying. Learning. Improving.

All for this.

It was always for this.

When Pyrrha was four, she learned of the Vytal Festival for the first time. Her mother told her that it was the greatest tournament for Huntsmen and Huntresses in the world. At that moment, Pyrrha decided that she was going to win. She would be the very best in the entire world. It was her destiny.

She had achieved the heights of tournament victories in the past. Argus Juniors. Mistral Youth. Four Mistral Cups in a row. The fights left her bloodied and drained. The thoughts of her opponents' faces would cause her to shudder. But she won. She always won. She tied or broke every record in Mistral fighting history. She pushed herself to limits she never thought was possible. But it all built up to Vytal. Every broken bone. Every torn ligament. Every scream of pain.

If she didn't win Vytal, what was she good for?

Her parents always tried to nurture her habits in a healthy way. It's fine if you lose, sweetie, they would say. Just give it your all. But she refused to accept being second-best. If it cost her friendships, she didn't care. That was the burden of hyperfocus. Everything else fell by the wayside.

She was ecstatic to enter Beacon when she did. Vytal in her first year. In some ways, a blessing and a curse. A blessing because the dream would be that much closer. A curse because of the experience her opponents would have over her. But at the time, she didn't care too much. She had beaten older Huntsmen before—the supposed best of the best. They were all great… until she came along. She knew she would win again. For her Kingdom. Her family. Herself.

And then, a funny thing happened: she stopped caring. It was the culmination of many things: lies by her headmaster, a discovery of secrets through Team RWBY that turned her understanding of Remnant on its head, and, yes, finding someone she cared for more than fighting. Her perspective hadn't so much changed as it was hit by a freight train.

Did glory really matter that much when Ozpin was going to take half of it?

Whose approval was she looking for? Jaune's? He cared about her no matter what she did.

Over the past few months, the Vytal Festival became sort of… there. A thing that was coming up that she'd participate in and get over. She would probably still win because she always won. Everyone knew that she was going to win. The pundits. The press. The students who weren't clouded by their own egos. But winning just seemed sort of pointless in the face of her new life. It was pleasant. Weird. A little scary. But mostly pleasant.

Then, the other freight train. The Holy Grail. The Fables. And now, winning never seemed so important. If she lost, if she couldn't be the best, there wouldn't be a world for her to return to. No JNPR. No Jaune. Every title would be washed away with the rest of their civilization. She couldn't let that happen. She had to let the Invincible Pyrrha Nikos out of her cage. She had to be a monster on that battlefield.

Pyrrha lay on the stiff bed in their cabin. The worst part of traveling to these tournaments: adjusting to a new living space. Getting back into routine in a foreign environment. Pyrrha hated change. And now, she hated returning to normalcy. Gods, what had Team RWBY done to her?

There was a gentle knock on her door. Her green eyes wandered to see Jaune standing beside her. He smiled at her. She melted.

"Team RWBY wants us all to meet in their cabin to talk strategy."

Of course. No time to rest. No time to think.

They were here. Those times had passed them by.

But she still had Jaune. She had her teammates. This new Pyrrha Nikos would be ready to fight like a demon. At least, she hoped.

"Okay. Let's not keep them waiting."

Jaune helped her to her feet, and she laced her fingers into his. With a nervous smile, the couple headed down to stairs to join up with the rest of their team.

Destiny awaited.