The world was warm, muted, and strangely safe when Pyrrha opened her eyes.
Then–
The sharp blare of the alarm jolted her fully awake.
She was on her feet before she could even think about it, years of training burning away the last traces of sleep. She shoved aside the blanket, her body moving with a cold precision she barely recognized. The room was washed in red emergency lights now, the calmness of Penny's home shattered.
Without waiting, Pyrrha sprinted for the door, her hand instinctively finding her belt where Milo and Akuo waited.
Penny was already there. Through the wide windows, Pyrrha saw her, hovering in midair, her eyes glowing bright green, the tips of her synthetic hair floating as if she were underwater.
Grimm was swarming the skies.
Winged creatures, Nevermores, flying Beringels, and worse swooped and shrieked across the skyline. Penny's swords from her Floating Array, detached from her back and spun into position, forming a circle around her, glowing with pulsing Dust energy. Each blade emitted searing plasma beams, slicing through Grimm with terrifying accuracy.
A Nevermore tried to dive toward the city.
Penny's eyes narrowed. With a sweep of her hand, two blades streaked forward in a cross pattern, severing the Nevermore's wings in a clean cut. The beast spiraled out of control, smashing into the desert sand far below, evaporating.
The chaos was already deafening.
Explosions rocked the sky as Atlas Manta-class gunships weaved through the Grimm swarm. Pyrrha spotted them, dozens of sleek, battered airships roaring overhead, turrets blazing. Some tried to lock onto Nevermores with Dust turrets, but the Grimm were fast, diving and twisting just out of targeting range.
Pyrrha's hands tightened around Milo and Akuo.
Enough standing still.
She bolted through the door and into the chaos.
Her boots barely touched the rooftop before she hurled Akuo. The shield spun like a disc, shimmering with polarized Aura energy. It struck a flying Beringel's head, ricocheted midair, hit another Grimm's wing, and returned neatly to her forearm with a resounding clang.
She slid Milo into rifle form without missing a beat.
Three Grimm dove at her. Pyrrha calmly took a knee, took aim, and fired.
Dust-infused rounds tore through their skulls, vaporizing them mid-flight.
She pivoted, feeling the hard recoil against her shoulder, tracking another Nevermore through the smoke. It banked left, dodging the Manta's barrage, but not Pyrrha's.
Her bullet caught it square in the chest. The beast shrieked once before disintegrating into ash.
Around her, the sky burned.
More Grimm poured in from the desert outskirts, summoned by whatever called them forth. The Mantas screamed overhead, their heavy cannons booming. Flak rounds burst around the flying creatures, but for every Grimm shot down, more seemed to rise.
Pyrrha dashed across the rooftops, running alongside the gunships as they strafed the Grimm hordes. Penny floated higher, a green star against the swirling red and black, her swords flashing brighter with every strike.
Suddenly, two large Nevermores swooped low, aiming for a civilian transport struggling to escape.
Pyrrha grit her teeth.
She surged forward, her Semblance flaring around her.
Milo snapped back into spear form in her hands. She hurled it forward with a crack of air, her Semblance accelerating its speed beyond what normal physics would allow. It struck one Nevermore like a thunderbolt, punching through its ribcage and dragging it down in a spiraling fall.
The second Nevermore veered toward her, its talons outstretched.
Pyrrha didn't flinch.
She caught her spear midair as it returned to her hand, spun once, and met the Grimm head-on.
Her shield smashed into its beak with a sound like splitting stone. Pyrrha followed it with a vicious downward slash, cleaving through the creature's neck. She kicked off it's disintegrating body, using the force to launch herself to another rooftop.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the Mantas adjust their course, hammering rounds into the Grimm trying to flank her.
The dust clouds kicked up by the explosions stung her eyes, but she didn't stop.
The battle was everywhere now.
Explosions. Green beams. Shouts over comms. Dustfire lighting up the twilight.
It didn't matter.
Pyrrha moved like a red storm through the battlefield.
She deflected claws with the flat of Akuo. She sliced through tar-like wings with Milo's blade. She fired controlled bursts from her rifle, dropping Grimm mid-dive.
Every step she took was precise.
Every breath was to move, fight, protect.
And above it all, Penny shone like a beacon. Her swords danced in intricate, deadly patterns, beams slicing through the largest Grimm with surgical precision. Every time Pyrrha thought she might be overwhelmed, she saw green plasma streak overhead, carving a path through the darkness.
More Nevermores, Lancers, all descending in an endless tide appears
Pyrrha shouldered Milo and Akuo and sprinted above the roof, the world around her a blur of flashing lights and shouting huntsmen. Every few strides she caught glimpses of Nevermores wheeling and diving, some struck by the Mantas flying fast and low across the desert, firing their Dust cannons in rapid succession.
But the Grimm were moving oddly.
Some Nevermores flitted out of cannon range a moment before the shots fired, wings folding, sliding along updrafts like dancers who could read the trigger pulls before they even happened. Pyrrha grimaced.
She broke out onto the main street just as a winged Beowolf, twisted and wrong, sprouting broken wings from its shoulders, crashed into the ground before her. Its eyes burned with didn't hesitate.
She hurled Akuo forward, her shield spinning like a disc, catching the monster squarely in the jaw. The impact sent it sprawling backward. Before it could recover, Pyrrha shifted Milo into rifle mode and squeezed off two quick, precise shots. Dust rounds exploded into the Grimm's chest, hollowing it out into black mist before it could screech a warning.
Akuo snapped back to her arm with a tug of her Semblance. Pyrrha spun, her eyes scanning.
More were landing. Five, no, six, Grimm charged toward her position, their claws raking the dust.
Pyrrha planted her feet and brought her weapons to bear.
She caught the first one by hurling her shield again, bouncing it off the skull of one, then the wing of another, forcing them into each other. Before they hit the ground, she fired again, dropping one. Then she was moving, weaving between their desperate strikes. Milo's blade shifted back to spear mode with a flick of her wrist, stabbing and slicing in a perfect rhythm.
One Grimm lunged.
Pyrrha ducked low, sliding along the sandstone, feeling the heat of its passing claws above her. She thrust upward with the spear as she passed underneath it, feeling the jolt as the blade punched through white bone.
She pivoted on her heel, spinning and slamming the back end of Milo into another Grimm's jaw. The force shattered its head, the body collapsing into vapor before it hit the ground.
More dust rounds exploded around her as the airships fired overhead, but the Grimm were evasive, dodging, weaving, using the very currents of Vacuo's hot winds to their advantage. A Nevermore the size of a semi-truck dove through the air, wings tucking as it shot toward the Manta formation.
Pyrrha snapped her scroll to her mouth.
"This is Nikos! Mantas, break left! Break left!"
The leading Manta twisted hard, barely avoiding the slashing talons of the Nevermore. It scraped across the ship's side, tearing hull plates, but the crew inside fought valiantly, Dust rounds stitching the monster's body even as it screeched and bled black into the sky.
Penny hovered high above, Floating Array's beams sweeping left and right, carving through dozens of smaller Grimm at once. It was like watching a living laser battery at work. Her green eyes blazed, focused entirely on the battle.
Pyrrha couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at her friend.
Then the ground rumbled.
An Alpha Beowolf, easily twice her size, burst from the sand ahead, launching itself at her with terrifying speed.
Pyrrha braced, raising her shield to catch the blow.
The impact was monstrous, sending her sliding back a dozen feet, boots carving deep furrows into the dusty ground. But she held, shield crackling as her aura flared against the force.
She pivoted and lashed out with Milo, catching the creature across its snout. It howled, stumbling. Pyrrha pressed the advantage, moving in with a series of rapid, brutal strikes, aiming for the joints, the weak points. She dropped low, feinted left, then drove the spear up under its chin.
The creature's eyes rolled back, and it collapsed into smoke.
She didn't stop moving.
There were too many. No time to breathe.
Pyrrha darted forward, rejoining the growing defensive line that huntsmen were establishing. Her scroll crackled again, Winter's voice, cold and clear.
"PRPN, focus on intercept. Block the Grimm from reaching the city outskirts. Reinforcements inbound from Shade Academy."
Pyrrha clicked her scroll. "Acknowledged."
Penny swooped down from above, landing gracefully beside her in a cloud of dust, blades unfolding from her back in gleaming arcs.
"I have thinned their numbers, Friend Pyrrha!" Penny said, almost cheerfully despite the situation.
Pyrrha panted, adjusting her grip on Milo. "Good. Let's make sure they don't reach the walls."
Together, they charged back into the fray.
The battle raged on.
Grimm poured from the skies and across the dunes, and it was all Pyrrha and the others could do to hold them back. Milo blurred in her hands, sometimes a spear, sometimes a rifle, sometimes just a hammering rod to bludgeon through beasts too fast for precision.
Akuo spun like a living thing, crashing into foes and whipping back to her side on command.
Above them, the sun beat down mercilessly. Dust cannon fire flashed from the Mantas in the distance, still struggling to herd the Grimm into kill zones.
Vacuo's air burned hot and dry.
Pyrrha fought with every breath, every ounce of training, every piece of stubborn defiance she had.
Pyrrha's scroll then buzzed, and the moment she flipped it open, the entire rooftop lit red again with warning flashes.
Winter's voice, clipped but urgent, came through the static-laced feed. "Nikos, priority mission update. Vacuo's central detainment sector—prison facility 07 has been compromised. There's a rebellion underway. Hostiles have overrun several security wards. White Fang and Crown agents identified among the insurgents."
Pyrrha's eyes narrowed. Penny drifted beside her in the air, her swords still orbiting her like satellites.
"Who's leading it?" Pyrrha asked tightly, Milo already humming with energy in her hand.
"Bram Thornmane and Hanlon Fifestone," Winter replied grimly. "He's active. And he's using that same artifact Team RWBY found in Arrowfell."
Pyrrha's blood ran cold. "The Grimm-attractor?"
"Exactly," Winter confirmed. "They're baiting Grimm into the city again. Fifestone's Semblance is making it worse, he's extracting emotion from prisoners, civilians, anyone he can reach. He's feeding it to that device."
Penny's eyes widened. "That's… extremely dangerous."
Pyrrha's grip tightened around her spear. "We're on it."
Winter's voice cut in again before she could move. "One more thing Team CFVY has engaged the Asturias twins outside Sector Nine. They're already in combat."
Pyrrha nodded to herself. "We'll handle this."
"Good hunting," Winter said, and the feed cut.
Pyrrha snapped her scroll shut.
"Penny," she said, stepping toward her.
Penny already understood.
"Do you need a lift, Friend Pyrrha?"
Pyrrha gave her a quick nod, hand gripping her shoulder as Penny's propulsion flared to life. "Get me close to the prison walls. Then cover the airspace. Focus on Grimm. Leave the ground to us."
Penny smiled brightly, eyes burning with green light. "Understood!"
Wind screamed past Pyrrha's ears as Penny rocketed into the air, carrying her in a high arc above the burning rooftops and rising sandstorms. Vacuo's desert rolled beneath them, scarred by distant fire and waves of Grimm funneling toward the city's edge.
From above, Pyrrha spotted it. the prison, now a battlefield.
The outer walls were shattered in places, Grimm pouring in from the dunes beyond. White Fang soldiers fought in formation, shoulder to shoulder with Crown insurgents, all of them swarming the fractured line of Vacuo's Huntsmen trying to hold the gate.
At the center of the chaos, a tall man in armor held aloft a pulsing, violet sphere.
Fifestone.
Even from this height, Pyrrha could feel it. The pressure. That same tug in her chest she'd felt in Arrowfell with Team RWBY. It leeched at her, grief, fear, rage all feeding into that orb.
He was weaponizing emotion.
And the Grimm were answering.
"Drop me!" Pyrrha shouted.
Penny let go.
Pyrrha twisted mid-fall, spun her body, and landed in a shockwave of red and bronze. Her spear hit the ground a second later, point-first, embedding into the sand with a thud.
The moment her boots touched down, the ground exploded into chaos.
White Fang gunmen turned too late.
Pyrrha slammed her shield into the first soldier's chest, throwing him backward into the prison wall with a sickening crunch. She spun, deflected a bullet with the curve of Akuo, then ducked under a glaive strike. With a twist, she kicked the attacker's knee sideways, slammed him to the ground, and swept her spear up in a rising arc that sent two more flying.
From the broken courtyard entrance, Ren and Nora arrived like thunder.
Ren moved like a shadow, his StormFlower flashing, weaving between enemy lines with silent efficiency. His aura shimmered as he struck pressure points with pinpoint precision, disabling foes before they could scream.
Nora crashed in beside him, swinging Magnhild like a meteorite. A dozen soldiers scattered like dust.
The ground cracked beneath her as she laughed wildly, knocking aside Crown troops with reckless glee. "Told you this was gonna be fun!"
Ren grunted, flipping over a beowolf's lunge and pinning its head to the stone with a aura-infused kick. "Focus."
"I am focused!" Nora sang.
Pyrrha didn't waste time.
She was already carving through the path ahead, heading straight for Fifestone and his orb.
Grimm flooded the air again, Nevermores, Lancers, Beringels. Penny rose to meet them like a mechanical guardian angel. Her swords hummed through the air, carving light into the sky. One Nevermore dove toward her, she raised a palm and obliterated it with a single green laser beam, incinerating it mid-flight.
From the ground, Pyrrha focused.
Fifestone raised his arms, glowing with raw, pulsing Aura.
"You feel that, Nikos?" he shouted over the battle, his voice almost gleeful. "This is the pain of your people turned into a storm!"
Pyrrha said nothing.
She lunged forward.
Fifestone fired a blast of compressed energy, raw anguish formed into a cannon shot. Pyrrha rolled, deflecting part of it with her shield, the rest scarring the ground beside her.
She rose in one fluid motion, eyes locked.
"You manipulate pain. You feast on grief," she said coldly. "But this? This is mine."
She surged forward.
He tried to draw from her. The orb pulsed.
But Pyrrha had learned control. Pain was not weakness. Not anymore.
With a cry, she thrust Milo at his side.
Fifestone blocked, barely. His weapon had already been destroyed by Team RWBY so he was helpless and even if he did have one?
She was Pyrrha Nikos.
He staggered, reeling from the force.
Nora slammed into the line behind them, sending White Fang scattering like chaff.
Ren slid in beside Pyrrha, suppressing enemy fire.
The fight devolved into chaos.
White Fang, Crown, Huntsmen, Grimm swarming in around the edges.
Fifestone retreated, still clutching his orb, channeling its power.
And Pyrrha advanced. Relentless
Ren flanked her right. Silent, focused, deadly.
Nora was holding back the rest.
Fifestone stood in the center of the courtyard, hunched like a starving scavenger over his pulsing device. The orb was massive now, throbbing like a sickened heart, fed by every fear, every scream. The artifact pulsed red-black. Grimm poured in from the sky, drawn like iron filings to a magnet of despair.
"Cut him off!" Pyrrha shouted. Her boots slammed the gravel, Milo twirling from rifle to spear in a seamless flash of steel and aura.
Ren was already ahead of her.
He broke into a flurry of movement, the shadows catching against his sleeves, his eyes narrowing. His aura burst around him as he threw his first strike, fist to sternum. Fifestone reeled. Ren was in again, elbow to temple, shoulder to gut, fluid, brutal, his fists like cannonballs.
Pyrrha caught Fifestone as he stumbled backward. Milo crashed across the man's ribs, then reversed and cracked hard into his shin. Fifestone growled and lunged, fingers glowing violet as he tried to sap emotion again. Ren spun him with a kick to the spine. Pyrrha planted her foot into his knee, driving it down into the ground.
Fists. Boots. Spear shaft. Elbow. They passed him between each other like a training dummy.
Fifestone screamed as his aura finally cracked, then shattered.
He dropped, coughing blood and bile, his body wracked with shaking.
Pyrrha didn't wait. She bound his arms with a length of scorched rebar, yanking it from a collapsed section of fence with her Semblance. Ren nodded once, then moved to secure the Grimm-attracting orb.
They barely had a breath before it happened.
Something whistled through the air.
Pyrrha turned on instinct. Her head tilted, just barely. The arrow missed. Barely.
It shattered into three midair and shot behind her. She ducked, rolled forward.
Then Bram Thornmane appeared like a ghost from the smoke.
He moved fast, impossibly fast, his Semblance letting him dash from one corner of the ruined yard to the next, silver twin daggers in hand, then joined back into a long silver bow with etched patterns that glowed faintly with Dust lines.
He loosed a shot. It scattered again, five arrows this time, angled to strike at odd, ricocheting vectors. Pyrrha's shield shot up. Akuo spun to her hand, catching one. Two. Three. The other two missed, but only because she'd shifted her entire body to avoid the paths.
Ren moved to intercept, but Bram waved his dagger in the air, three more arrows shot upward, then turned. Midflight. Remote-controlled. Bram snapped his fingers, and they adjusted in real-time.
Pyrrha ducked under one and blocked another with Milo.
Bram came at her, flipping his bow back to daggers. He spun low, struck out with a knife aimed at her knees, but Pyrrha leapt up, kicked him in the chest, and sent him skidding backward. He dashed again, faster than ever.
But he seems to have forgotten her Semblance
Her Semblance flicked. The metal in his boots betrayed him. She stopped him mid-dash, locking one foot to the ground and pivoting herself in a smooth motion. Milo transformed to spear, then swept low. His aura flared as he jumped backward.
"Bad match for you," she muttered.
Bram grit his teeth and fired again. Arrows shot high into the sky, eight this time, splitting and spiraling, turning toward her like vultures. Pyrrha raised both arms, then flung out her Semblance. The metal in the arrows twisted midflight. Five shattered. Three she caught with Akuo, batting them aside like insects.
He dashed again. She turned, used the shattered arrowheads against him, flinging them like shrapnel. One cut across his thigh. Another pierced his aura at the shoulder.
Pyrrha pressed the assault.
Strike. Strike. Block. Thrust.
She kept turning his own momentum against him, his weapons becoming his greatest weakness.
He slashed at her, his dagger trailing sparks as it scraped across Milo's shaft. She twisted, ducked, elbowed him in the side, then brought her knee up into his chin.
Bram staggered.
Pyrrha's aura flared.
She dashed, rammed him with her shield.
He went flying, tumbled hard across the yard.
When he tried to rise, she was already above him.
Her spear was against his throat. Her shield pressed against his daggers, forcing them down.
His aura blinked and shattered.
He lay there, half-conscious, spitting blood, still trying to crawl toward his bow.
Pyrrha kicked it away.
It was over.
Ren walked up. Nora followed from behind, slamming one last Crown soldier into the side of a transport vehicle.
"Fifestone's orb is secured," Ren said.
Pyrrha didn't reply right away. She looked around.
The airships overhead were gone. Penny had cleaned the sky. The Grimm orb was disabled, shattered by a precise blast from her Floating Array array. Crown members were cuffed, unconscious, or scattered in retreat. The Grimm that had begun to gather lost their pull and were being picked off by other Huntsmen.
Pyrrha exhaled.
She turned to the others. "Let's round them up. We're not done yet."
The aftermath settled like ash.
Fifestone lay unconscious and bound, his Semblance no longer drawing out pain and fear like a predator sniffing for blood. The raw chaos he had instigated faded with every second, the Grimm thinning as the pulse of manipulated emotion no longer rang out across Vacuo's cracked soil. Still the fear remained. All over Vacuo, there were still Grimm. Pyrrha stood over him, quietly, Milo resting on her back, Akuo clutched tight in one bruised arm. Her eyes were dark—focused, unreadable.
Nearby, Ren exhaled slowly. He had delivered a final strike with a palm to the solar plexus to White Fang terrorist while Nora knocked a Crown rebel with a tap of her hammer.
Then, Headmaster Theodore arrived at the scene.
He was dragging two figures behind him, half-limp, both bloodied and bruised. Emerald Sustrai's hair clung to her face, her lip split, one arm hanging at an unnatural angle. Mercury Black, the former assassin, was barely conscious, his mechanical legs twisted and mangled, sparks sputtering from exposed wires and torn actuators. One of his cybernetic limbs looked like it had been forcibly ripped off at the knee. The smell of burnt circuitry lingered in the air.
Theodore dropped them like sacks of grain. Dust-coated, bruised, and barely breathing.
"They were near the wreckage," Theodore said flatly, brushing off his gloves as if he'd just swept dust off a shelf. "Figured I'd pick up the trash myself."
He knelt beside Mercury, grabbed him by the collar, and delivered a rough slap across the cheek.
Mercury's head lolled back, then forward. Blood dripped from his nose.
Theodore leaned in. "Talk."
Mercury coughed. "It's already over."
Theodore's eyes narrowed. "Try again."
Mercury rasped, low and bitter. "Those two idiots, Thornmane and Fifestone, they did their job." He gave a thin, crooked smile. "You were looking at the wrong distraction idiots."
Silence fell across the the sandstone.
Pyrrha felt a cold dread fill her chest. "What did they do?"
Theodore stood up, brushing blood from his knuckles. "They stole data."
"Data?" Penny echoed, floating just behind Pyrrha, her voice unsure.
Winter's voice came through the comms again. "They accessed restricted files. Stole coordinates, mission reports… and confirmation of the Staff of Creation's location."
Pyrrha's mouth opened slightly.
"No," she breathed.
"They know," Theodore said grimly. "They know that Team RWBY holds the Staff. They're moving to intercept. Salem's eye is off us, at least for now."
"But not for long," Ren murmured.
Theodore nodded. "She's coming."
Pyrrha stood still, her grip on Akuo tightening.
The words settled like weight on everyone's shoulders. Penny's expression fell, so deeply it almost didn't suit her. Nora was still, for once silent. Even Ren's jaw clenched.
"We're holding one Relic," Pyrrha muttered, "and drawing fire because of it."
"And now she knows where the second is," Theodore said. "It's not our fight alone anymore."
His eyes swept across Team PRPN.
"But make no mistake," he continued. "Today was the first real move. The board's been flipped. Now we'll see who was ready for the war... and who just thought they were."
Pyrrha said nothing for a long moment. Then, after one long, steady breath, she finally spoke.
"Then we'd better be ready."
The knowledge that Salem now had a direct lead on the Relic of Creation clamped down like a vice across them. Pyrrha's jaw had set tight, her green eyes cold. Penny stood beside her, wordless for once, while Ren and Nora shared a grim look of understanding. This war wasn't over. Not even close.
But they had no time to prepare.
It was not a luxury they all have.
The alarm howled again.
Its shriek pierced the air like a blade, slicing through whatever calm they had managed to hold onto. Every Huntsman and Huntress in the city flinched, and then, without being ordered, moved.
They ran.
To the walls. To the gates. To their posts.
Pyrrha and her team followed, boots slamming on metal and sandstone alike as they ascended the city's edge. What they saw made even the most hardened of Vacuo's soldiers stop.
A tidal wave.
Not of water, but of Grimm.
Thousands. Tens of thousands.
They blanketed the desert in moving black. Claws. Eyes. Beasts. Things with wings, things with too many limbs, things that looked like nightmares barely held together by malice. And they had come without warning. The sensors hadn't even blinked.
Of course. Pyrrha cursed under her breath. Mercury and Emerald. Of course they had sabotaged them.
The wall behind her vibrated with the whispering dread of Huntsmen. Veteran soldiers. Hardened warriors. And even they couldn't look at that sight without feeling their knees weaken.
Penny stood still, almost unnaturally calm, her mechanical eyes tracking the horde.
Nora slid closer to Ren, gripping his hand. "Together," she whispered.
"Always," Ren answered, steady, but softer than usual.
Pyrrha's voice cut through the air next, stronger than she felt. "We stay together. All of us."
Her words snapped something into place. Straightened spines. Focused eyes.
They were prepared to die. But they would fight like hell before that.
Then something shifted.
And then.
From the far end of the dunes came a sound.
It was like thunder, but sharper. Like leaves swirling in a hurricane. Color sparked out of the distance—multi-colored leaves riding the desert wind and something shimmered at their heart.
At first, it was only a shimmer of movement against the horizon. But then, golden light erupted, streaking through the black tide like a shooting star.
And at its heart...
A knight.
Armor seemingly burnished and weathered, hued in white and accented gold. A sword glowed in his hands, and his body was wreathed in a gold-hued aura that shimmered like flame.
He rode a beast, no, a mount—like something out of storybooks. A jackalope, massive and lithe, white with golden antlers branching skyward like a crown. Its paws barely touched the sand, bounding faster than any transport.
And wherever they moved, Grimm died.
The knight's sword carved through the horde like lightning, slicing Beowolves in half, tearing Ursai apart in singular, clean strikes. A Nevermore swooped in, only for the knight to launch skyward from his mount's antlers, cleaving it in two in midair. Golden leaves fluttered in his wake, each one bursting into sparks as they touched the sand.
The wall of Vacuo stood in stunned silence.
They had heard the stories. The tales of the Rusted Knight.
Every child had grown up with that name whispered beside a fire. Some took it as nothing more than an old fairy tale, others as a metaphor for bravery.
But now, they watched a fairy tale ride straight into the jaws of death and win.
The Rusted Knight itself had come to help.
Theodore didn't speak. He didn't need to.
His hand dropped to his side. Then slowly, ever so slowly, he smiled.
"I'll be damned," he muttered.
Pyrrha's lips parted. Her breath caught in her throat.
That person
She knew that sword.
Pyrrha Nikos, standing at the front of her team, felt her breath catch in her throat. The image before her… it couldn't be.
But her heart knew.
Even with his armor changed. It was him.
"Jaune…" she whispered, her voice hoarse.
Then she moved, vaulting off the wall.
"Pyrrha!" Nora shouted.
"Wait—!" Ren took a step after her.
But she was already running. Sprinting. Breaking through the forming lines, her red hair flaring behind her, shield on her back and spear in hand. She didn't hesitate. Didn't look back.
She knew.
Theodore looked down at the walls at Pyrrha running and then to the knight. His face twitched. Then, in the gruffest Vacuan growl he could manage, he shouted,
"Screw it—CHARGE!"
And the lines broke.
Every Huntsman and Huntress screamed in unison. Like a dam bursting.
Pyrrha ripped through the first line of Grimm, spinning, ducking, slashing with the edge of her shield. Her Semblance hummed like music in her blood, the metal singing beneath her skin.
Ahead, the knight vanished. Then reappeared beside a charging Deathstalker, blade cleaving through its carapace in one blazing arc.
And then he turned.
He turned toward her.
Their eyes met.
And for a heartbeat in the battle, there was silence.
The battlefield didn't matter. The Grimm didn't matter. The dust, the wind, the screams, none of it mattered.
Just his eyes.
And hers.
"Hello again," Pyrrha said, her voice low but certain, as if the entire war had simply been a long breath between one sentence and the next.
The knight tilted his head.
Then sighed.
The visor lifted.
And Jaune Arc smiled sheepishly.
"I might have worried you," he admitted.
Pyrrha didn't laugh. Not quite. She just smiled, a tired, exasperated, relieved smile and said, "We're going to talk. In private. After this."
Jaune opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again.
Her eyes told Jaune that refusal was not an option.
"…Right," he said. "Noted."
Pyrrha turned back toward the oncoming wave. Her team was catching up now. Penny flared in the air overhead, Nora and Ren cutting toward her flanks.
Behind her, Jaune dropped his visor again.
And then they fought.
He was gone again, cleaving a line through the Grimm. His jackalope bounded across the dunes with impossible grace, and everywhere the knight moved, hope followed.
Pyrrha's chest was too full. Of breath. Of adrenaline. Of something she hadn't dared name in weeks.
Jaune was alive.
And he had come back.
She watched him for one more second.
Then turned with a battle cry and joined the charge.