Chapter 6 - To Have What They Have
The mood had lightened just enough for Ruby to insist, half pleading, half glowing with enthusiasm, that they visit the Amity Command Armory.
"You guys have to see it," she says, practically bouncing on her heels. "It's not just rows of crates and lockers, it's organized by function, by mission type! I mean, there's a section just for prototype Dust integration! It's amazing!"
"I can't believe I'm being dragged to look at shelves," Yang mutters with a smirk, hands behind her head.
"You like shelves," Blake deadpans beside her.
"I like shelves when they're holding snacks."
Weiss, walking on the other side of Ruby, gives an indulgent sigh. "It's fine. A quick stop. But I swear if you start cataloging parts again, Ruby, I'm leaving you there."
"I won't! Probably," Ruby promises, already leading them down the corridor with giddy steps.
Jaune trails behind, hands in his jacket pockets, content to let the group's easy banter carry him forward. There's something oddly comforting about it. Ever since he returned with them from the Ever After, he's just had a strange feeling around them, a mix of pride and protectiveness. Then it finally strikes him.
I'm old enough to be their father, aren't I.
He shakes his head, trying to banish that thought forever.
Okay, nope, nu-uh. Sisters, little sisters is most appropriate. I've already got seven sisters, what's four more?
As Jaune desperately tries to dispel wandering thoughts, they cross through one of Amity's open landing bays when Ruby slows to a halt. Her smile fades as a gust of wind from the upper atmospheric airlock ruffled her cape.
"Hey…" she says quietly. "Look."
A couple Bullheads descend, their engines humming low as they settle into place on the extended landing pad. The rear doors hiss open, revealing a group of figures stepping out into the light. Ten soldiers, various different armor colors, visors dim, and the emblem of a skull and knife on their shoulder plates.
Wraith Squadron.
Even through the layers of dust and burns across their armor, they move with unmistakable precision. Ruby can tell it's sluggish now, however. Their walk bears the weight of exhaustion.
"Something happened," Blake says quietly, her tone sharpened.
From the interior of the other Bullhead, a pair of medical crew appear, wheeling five stretchers onto the platform.
Ruby's eyes widened. "They're still alive, right?"
"I think so," Jaune said under his breath. "They wouldn't be that urgent if they weren't."
They watch as the medics push forward across the deck toward the far end of the bay, toward the interior doors marked "LEVEL 3 MEDICAL - AUTHORIZED ACCESS ONLY." One of the Wraiths breaks from their formation, the woman in the jungle green armor.
Then, Yang catches something.
She squints, following the motion of the second stretcher as it tilts slightly in the medic's grip. A flash of pink and brown from the stretcher.
Yang takes a step forward before stopping herself. "Wait."
"What is it?" Weiss asks.
Yang's lilac eyes narrow. "I saw… I think I just saw…"
"Who?" Blake asks gently, already reading her tone.
"I'm not sure. But we should find out."
They don't speak much more as they begin walking again, this time slowly, cautiously, following from a distance. The medics are already vanishing around the corner at the far end of the corridor, but the squad of Wraiths still linger at the edge of the bay, speaking briefly with a pair of flight officers before splitting off. One of them looks back, Ghost, if she remembers correctly. He didn't seem to notice them. Or maybe he did, and just didn't care.
They follow the path deeper into the interior, staying far enough behind the medics to avoid drawing attention.
They don't speak until they reach the outer hallway just outside the medical wing.
A tall soldier in a security uniform steps forward, his expression firm. "Sorry, this section of MedBay is restricted. No civilian clearance."
Ruby steps forward instinctively. "We're not civilians, we're-"
The guard cuts her off. "UKR status or not, this area's for Level 3 medical emergencies and secure debriefs only. I'm going to have to ask you to turn back."
Ruby's jaw clenches. Weiss steps in quickly, laying a hand on her shoulder. "It's fine. We'll go."
The guard gives a brief nod, relaxing only slightly as they turn away and walk back down the corridor.
Ruby exhales once they are out of earshot. "I can't believe that. Who are they treating that's so classified?"
"I'm telling you, I saw Neo," Yang mutters.
They turn a corner, coming to a stop near a long stretch of windows overlooking a lower deck. Ruby paces in place. Blake leans against the wall, and Yang crosses her arms.
Suddenly, Ruby's scroll beeps. She turns to them. "Patience pays off! Winter just sent access to go see Neo, though it looks like she is making it very clear that whatever happens with her is entirely our responsibility."
"Are you sure this will be okay?" Yang looks at her, a hint of worry in her eyes, "Honestly, I don't understand why you're so confident in her, especially after what she did to you."
Ruby gives a small smile, "I guess the confidence comes from my own experience in the Tree. Like I said in the Ever After, I have faith that she will have found herself, one way or another."
Jaune simply looks at them and says, "I guess there's only one way to find out."
The light is blinding, harsh, and cold.
Neopolitan's eyes flutter open with a slow, disoriented blink, and she winces immediately as the sterile brilliance of the ceiling lights pierces her senses. Her head feels heavy, her thoughts like fog laced with needles. Her lips are dry and her throat aches. A numbness sits just beneath her skin, as if her aura had been forcibly drained, or worse, suppressed.
Panic coils around her chest as she quickly sits up.
Clink.
Her right wrist jerks back with sudden, metallic resistance. The cuff snaps tight around the bone, shackling her to the reinforced bed beneath her. Neo's breath hitches. The blanket slides off her lap, and she freezes again. She isn't in her clothes, just a hospital gown.
She frantically looks around for Roman's hat and Hush.
She thrashes suddenly, instinct and fear taking over as she twists her wrist against the restraint with all the strength her weakened muscles can muster. Her Semblance sparks uselessly, flickering like static, then sputtering out.
The door to the medical bay slides open.
Neo turns her head, and every muscle in her body goes rigid.
The woman who steps through wears a pristine white military officer's coat with an emblem Neo doesn't recognize that's thick with medals and bars of rank. Her posture is as straight-backed and cold as she remembers, but time has left its mark. Her snow-colored hair is pulled back in the same tight bun as it was when Neo saw her just a few days ago, but now her left eye is covered by a black eyepatch.
Winter Schnee.
Neo's mouth goes dry. Not out of fear, but because the implications of her appearance slam into her like a truck.
She looks older.
What the hell?
Winter raises one brow as she steps inside, a data pad tucked under one arm, her gloved hand resting on the door frame for a moment longer than necessary. She looks at Neo the way a surgeon might look at an open wound. Unflinching, but entirely aware of what she is dealing with.
"Welcome back to the world of the living," Winter says evenly.
Neo doesn't move. Her eyes narrow, but her expression gives away nothing. Silence has always been her greatest defense.
Winter approaches, boots clicking sharply against the white floor, but she still keeps a respectful distance. She studies Neo for a moment. Not as a prisoner, but as an anomaly.
Then she speaks again. "We weren't sure what to expect when Team RWBY and Arc returned."
Neo's brow twitches.
"Given that you were the only other person who fell between the collapsing portals during the Atlas evacuation, your reappearance… isn't entirely a surprise. Though I won't pretend we weren't caught off guard." Winter pauses, eye narrowing. "You've been gone for a long time."
Neo remains motionless, but her mind is spiraling. Gone a long time? How long? Her memories start rising to the surface. Ascension. Roman. The memory slams into her. What the Blacksmith had shown her. The true fate of Roman Torchwick. She had been pursuing a false, empty revenge this entire time. Then the rest comes back. Coming out of that portal into the middle of a battlefield. Strange, gun-wielding Grimm and huge bugs flying around. She had used her Semblance to try and clear a path to that Bullhead, but one of the bugs stung her… And now here she is.
What do I do now? Where the hell am I? What… can I do?
"We recovered you at a forward outpost in south Vacuo," Winter continues. "You were in some kind of stasis state, unresponsive but stable. Two others were in a similar condition. A squad brought you back. You're currently safe aboard Amity Station."
Safe? Her? The corners of her mouth curl slightly in irritation. Her vision flicks toward her chained wrist.
Winter glances at it but doesn't apologize. "Standard protocol for unstable returns. Especially those who've… historically posed a threat to the Kingdoms."
Neo doesn't flinch. Threat? Yes, but also abandoned. Just like she had been.
Winter sighs and crosses her arms over her chest. "We're not going to hurt you. But I need you to understand where you are, and what you've returned to. To rip the bandage off, it's been five years."
Neo slumps forward. That's… a lot to take in. It isn't like Neo had anyone who cared about her on Remnant though. She has no reason to try and fight anything, so she just swallows and tilts her head, expression clearly signaling Winter to continue.
"The world has changed," Winter says, voice tightening just slightly. "The Kingdoms are gone. The UKR, United Kingdoms of Remnant, is all that remains. The war with Salem is in a stalemate. The Grimm haven't stopped adapting. We're facing threats we don't understand. You-"
She stops.
"We have to take care when dealing with unknowns. However Team RWBY reported that you may appear at some point and vouched that you would not contribute an immediate threat. Which is why you are in a hospital bed and not a cell."
Neo doesn't react outwardly. Ruby vouched for her? After everything?
Winter gives her a firm look. "You're stable now. I'm having someone come to speak with you soon. Do be aware, we are granting you this mercy because I trust Ruby. As I said, the world is different now, and much less merciful."
Then, the expression on her face becomes dangerous, "If you show yourself to be an enemy in any way, I will have you executed, and if necessary, I will do it personally."
Winter turns sharply and begins to walk away, the door sliding open at her approach.
She says it so casually, but Neo feels nothing. Maybe she should try to break out. Just to get it over with.
"Neo…"
She pauses in the doorway.
"I hope you choose to help. Gods know we need all we can get."
The door seals shut behind her with a soft hiss. Silence returns. Neo sits back slowly, eyes scanning the room, wrist still cuffed, and no idea what she is meant to do.
The hall outside the MedBay is quiet, save for the soft hum of overhead lights and the steady rhythm of boots on polished floors. Team RWBY and Jaune move in a loose cluster, the mood tense but tinged with something like smug vindication. Ruby walks at the head, her scroll raised high in her hand.
The same guard from before stands outside the restricted wing entrance, arms folded and a distinct expression of skepticism plastered across his face. "This area's for classified-"
Ruby holds out her scroll, screen turned toward him. On it, bold and undeniable, is the digital signature of General Winter Schnee, followed by the official clearance order.
The guard blinks.
Ruby crosses her arms. "We'll take that room number now."
"…Room 14-A," the guard mutters after a pause, stepping aside.
With restrained urgency, they push forward down the corridor, Weiss leading the way now, eyes scanning doors as numbers tick up one by one. Blake walks in silence, Yang beside her, arms folded, posture tense. Jaune stays at the rear, a strange unreadable expression on his face.
At last, they reach room 14-A.
Ruby hesitates for a moment, then steps forward. The door slides open with a soft hydraulic hiss.
Inside, the room is lit in the sterile, white-on-white style of all military medical wings. On the single bed, restrained by a handcuff around her wrist, is a woman none of them had expected to see again.
Neo.
Her hair is slightly disheveled, the dual tones of pale pink and brown messier than they've ever seen them. She sits half-upright in the bed, and her posture shifts the moment they enter.
She stares at them.
Her eyes lock onto Ruby first, widening. Then she flicks her gaze across the rest of them: Weiss. Blake. Yang. Jaune. Her eyes are sharp, but beneath the surface, there is something else.
Fear.
Not the kind that comes from danger, but of perception.
"Hi," Ruby says cautiously, her voice soft but steady.
Neo doesn't answer.
Then, slowly, she raises her free hand and points toward Ruby's waist.
The group blinks, confused, until Neo mimes tapping motions with her free hand. Ruby catches on first, quickly unclipping her scroll and handing it over.
Neo takes it in her hand, fingers trembling slightly as she opens the notes app.
For a long moment, she types. Her thumb moves slowly, a single letter at a time. Not out of uncertainty, but deliberation. She stares down at the screen, her expression shifting in ways they hadn't seen from her before. Neo had always been an unreadable person. She was playful, smug, and dangerous. Even when cornered, she exuded control.
But now?
She looks small. Her shoulders hunched slightly. Her hands hover over the screen like she isn't sure she has the right.
Then, with a breath, she turns it around.
Two words.
I'm sorry.
It hits the room like a thunderclap.
Yang's eyebrows shoot up. Blake tilts her head, stunned. Weiss blinks as if trying to reconcile what she is seeing with reality.
Neo turns the scroll back to herself and starts typing again, longer this time. Her thumb moves with more confidence now, like the dam had cracked and she couldn't stop the flood.
She takes her time, typing a lot, and everyone just waits patiently. Finally, she turns it around again.
When I jumped into that void… I landed in that place. The Tree. It showed me Roman's final moments. The truth. I saw that you didn't kill him. I blamed you because I had nothing left. I latched on to whatever I could to give myself purpose. I don't deserve forgiveness. I know that. I did to you what was done to me as a child. The pinnacle of hypocrisy. If you want to kill me for what I've done. I understand. I know it's deserved, and I accept that. It's not like there's anything left for me in this world anyway.
She holds the scroll there, waiting.
Ruby's hands tighten into fists at her sides.
Without warning, she steps next to the bed, Neo drops the scroll and Ruby grabs her hand.
"I forgive you."
Silence falls over the room again, deeper than before.
Yang's mouth drops open slightly. "Wait, what?"
Weiss takes a step forward. "Ruby, are you sure about that? After everything-"
"She tortured you, tried to kill you." Blake says, her voice calm but laced with quiet disbelief.
"I know," Ruby replies.
She doesn't look at them. She just looks at Neo.
"I know what she did. I know what she almost did. But I also know what it's like to lose and not know where to put that pain. But if she's here… if she's reaching out… then maybe there's a chance she really can change."
Neo hasn't moved.
Her hand is still in Ruby's.
Her eyes are wide, stunned. She doesn't pull away. She doesn't respond.
Just… frozen.
Ruby lifts her hand off of Neo's and waves it in front of her face.
"Hey? Neo? You okay?"
No response.
Then the door slides open.
Ozcar steps in, pausing mid-step at the sight before him. Team RWBY and Jaune all standing around Neo's bed.
He takes in the stunned silence, the scroll in Neo's lap and the look on her face.
Then, with a small smile, he gives the faintest nod.
"Looks like I came in at the right time," he says gently.
Ruby turns.
"She's awake," she says. "And… I think she's listening."
Ozcar steps in further, giving a gentle nod. His cane taps once on the MedBay floor as he stops just behind Team RWBY.
Ruby turns back to Neo, her expression calm but unwavering.
"Our purpose," she says quietly, "Team RWBY, Jaune, the UKR, we exist for one reason. To stand against Salem and everything she's done to this world. We fight to protect what's left, and to build something better."
Neo stares at her. Still silent. Still unreadable.
Ozcar's voice joins Ruby's, though his tone is more philosophical.
"But your purpose," he says, "isn't something anyone else gets to choose for you."
His eyes, calm and older than they look, meet Neo's. "You were dragged into someone else's war. Used by those with power, twisted by grief, and abandoned by every system that failed to protect you. What you do next… is yours."
Ruby gives a small nod. "He's right. If you want to leave Amity, to find your own path, your own purpose… I'll talk to Winter. I'll make it happen. No one here wants to keep you locked up."
Neo blinks. She looks down at the scroll still in her lap. Her free hand trembles as she picks it up, and begins to type.
The soft click of keys is the only sound in the room for a long few seconds.
Then she turns it around.
Is it okay if that purpose is something as shallow as personal atonement?
The question sits heavy in the room.
Jaune frowns, arms crossed, unsure how to answer. Weiss looks conflicted. Blake bites her lip, eyes unreadable. Yang tilts her head, watching Neo carefully.
But Ruby… Ruby smiles.
"I don't think that's shallow at all," she says. "But you shouldn't feel like it's something you owe us, or anyone. You don't have to carry that like an anchor."
She steps closer again.
"If you want to join us… if you want to fight for what's left of this world with us… then I want you with us. Not because you're trying to make up for something."
Ruby extends her hand now, palm up.
"But because you want to."
Neo doesn't move at first. Her eyes search Ruby's face, scanning every detail for a trick, a trap, a lie. All she finds is sincerity.
She types again.
You'd really want someone like me with you?
Ruby just gives a small, bright smile. Not naïve. Not foolish.
Just honest.
"Of course."
Neo's breath hitches. A quiet one. So subtle she barely notices it herself.
A thought, unbidden, surfaces like a whisper in the back of her mind. One she hasn't invited, but one she can't push away.
"To have what they have."
Roman's words, but not from him. Not truly. He had merely been a construct of her Semblance. Those words had come from her. Because a part of her had wanted it.
With that comes a moment of clarity. Everything finally clicks into place for Neo. When she lost Roman, she thought that the emotion she was chasing was revenge. She was wrong. As she looks at the silver-eyed girl extending a hand to a person she has every right to hate, Neo finally understands what feeling she is actually looking for.
Belonging.
She looks at Ruby again. At Weiss. Blake. Yang. Jaune.
They'd been through so much. Fought together. Lost together.
And they still stand together.
Neo doesn't know if she can ever be part of that.
But… maybe she can try.
Before she can stop it, a single tear slips from the corner of her eye. She blinks, furious at herself, and reaches up to wipe it away quickly.
Then, slowly, she reaches forward…
…and takes Ruby's hand.
Ruby squeezes it gently, and gives a small, relieved nod.
"Welcome aboard, Neo."
Behind her, Yang lets out a low breath, half-smile tugging at her lips. "Well… that's a plot twist."
Weiss's shoulders relax. Blake simply nods her head.
Even Jaune manages the ghost of a smile.
Ozcar watches the way Neo clutches Ruby's hand like a lifeline, silent but deliberate, her expression carefully held in that delicate place between disbelief and fragile hope.
"I think," Ozcar says gently, "that is acceptable."
Everyone turns to him as he steps forward, posture composed, his cane tapping softly against the polished floor.
"I was here to determine how cooperative Miss Neo would be." He reaches into his coat pocket and withdraws a small key. "And I believe I've seen enough."
With practiced ease, he moves to her bedside, kneels slightly, and unlocks the cuff from her wrist with a soft click.
Neo stares down at the spot where it had bound her only moments ago. She flexes her wrist slowly, as if checking if the freedom is real.
"I'll speak with General Schnee and make arrangements," Ozcar says, straightening again. "You'll be given quarters adjacent to Team RWBY and Mr. Arc. You'll be under passive supervision, but otherwise free to move about Amity Command."
Neo gives a cautious nod.
He gestures toward a narrow wall panel across the room. "Your clothes have been cleaned and secured. They're in the closet there."
Neo blinks, then stands slowly, moving toward the panel and sliding it open.
Inside, folded neatly, was her familiar outfit, but it's something that causes her breath to catch.
Resting atop the folded garments… is a black bowler hat.
Roman's hat.
She freezes. Just for a second. As if touching it might make it vanish.
Turning back toward Ozcar, her expression is a rare mix of gratitude and uncertainty. A single brow lifts in silent question.
He gives her a small nod.
"It was recovered," he says. "Miraculously unscathed after the engagement. Along with a parasol. We believe they were caught in the debris but shielded under a collapsed corridor. The weapon is currently being held in the armory. General Schnee has requested it not be returned until she is fully confident in your cooperation."
Neo nods slowly. That seemed fair. More than fair.
Ozcar reaches into his coat again and pulls out a standard-issue UKR scroll, already initialized. "You'll need your own communication access. This one's been keyed to your biometric signature. You'll find some basic security permissions already unlocked. Others will be granted once trust is established."
She accepts it in both hands, and this time, her nod is firmer. Steadier.
"Take your time," Ozcar says, turning toward the others. "We'll give you privacy to change."
With that, he steps outside the MedBay room, followed closely by Team RWBY and Jaune. The door whispers shut behind them.
A second passes. Then another…
Weiss turns to Ruby first.
"Are you absolutely sure about this?"
Ruby, unfazed, meets her gaze.
"Yes."
Yang frowns. "Ruby, this isn't picking up a stray puppy. It's Neopolitan."
"She tried to kill you," Blake adds, quieter, though not unkindly. "More than once."
Ruby crosses her arms. "I know exactly who she is. But I also saw what she wrote. And what I felt wasn't fake."
Blake glances toward the MedBay door, her eyes thoughtful.
Jaune rubs the back of his neck. "Look, I get it. I'm not saying I trust her yet, but… if she really is different, what do we do? Lock her up forever?"
"We're giving her a room, not a medal," Ruby says. "She's not part of the team, yet. Not unless she wants to be. But she deserves a chance."
Yang grumbles. "Still don't forgive her for the train…"
Weiss sighs, folding her arms. "Alright. Fine. We'll see how it goes. But if she stabs anyone-"
"I'll duck," Jaune mutters.
The group chuckles, tension bleeding from the conversation just in time for the MedBay doors to slide open again.
Neo stands in the hallway, back in her signature outfit. Her hair is combed, her expression guarded but… calm. The confidence hasn't returned fully, but her stance has changed. Shoulders a bit straighter. Chin lifted just slightly.
Her scroll is held in one hand.
She looks at the group, hesitates a second, then walks forward to join them.
Ruby grins and turns, gesturing down the hall. "Come on, let's show you your room."
The group makes their way through the clean, brightly lit corridors of Amity. Along the way, Neo stays toward the back, only interjecting occasionally with notes typed onto her scroll.
You all walk too slow.
This place has way too many lights.
I still don't like elevators.
The banter came slowly at first, the group reacting with awkward laughter or hesitant smiles, but by the time they reached the officer suites, there were more genuine grins than not. Even Yang laughs at one of Neo's snarkier scroll notes, though she made sure to roll her eyes afterward.
They show her to the room beside Ruby's. It's clean, secure, and stocked with basic necessities. A cot, a small desk, and a wall terminal.
"It's not much," Ruby admits. "But it's safe."
Neo gives a short nod, and typed again.
It's more than I had yesterday.
That brought a pause. One that meant something.
Blake steps forward. "If you need anything… Well, we're not that hard to find."
Neo blinks at her.
Then, with a small smile, she gives a thumbs-up.
Outside, the sun is starting to set, casting Amity's upper spires in bands of gold and crimson. The desert beyond shimmers in the dying light, and the sky fading from orange to soft indigo.
Inside, laughter echoes faintly through the rooms.
For the first time in a long time, Neopolitan has her own room.
And, maybe, just maybe, a future.
The lights overhead buzz faintly as Wraith Squadron strolls down the corridor leading from the mess hall after breakfast, their boots tapping rhythmically on the reinforced flooring. They are all looking forward to having a whole day in fatigues.
Vesper trails behind the group, scroll in hand, fingers flicking through updated telemetry logs from their last op. His other hand absently rubs the side of his neck where the bug Grimm had nearly tagged him. Neptune, walking just ahead, rolls his shoulder in slow, deliberate circles. The bandage peeking out from under his sleeve is tight, fresh, and stubbornly clean, though his wince betrays how much it still stings.
"Still hurts?" Emerald asks, flashing a lopsided grin.
"Like hell," Neptune mutters, then adds with a smirk, "but it looks cool, right?"
Vesper doesn't even look up. "You'd look a lot cooler not getting shot."
"Hey, at least I didn't get taken out by an oversized mosquito."
The squad shares a few low chuckles as they reach their barracks door. The room inside is dimly lit, mostly neat except for Dahlia's half-disassembled rifle on one bunk and a pile of spare parts on another.
Adam is the first to step in, and he turns as the others filed in behind him.
"Harriet's going to be in MedBay for another day," he says. "Muscle damage. She overstrained. They've got her on bed rest and compression therapy."
"Figured as much," Velvet nods from the corner. "I don't think I've ever seen her carry so much weight while using her Semblance."
"She didn't say a word either," Fiona adds, crossing her arms. "Just grit and go."
"I'm gonna go check on her," Velvet says, already tugging her jacket back on.
Adam nods, giving them a brief glance that serves as approval. "Tell her to behave. And to rest."
As Velvet heads for the door, the rest of the team spreads out into their usual corners. Ren quietly cleans his pistols on a cloth laid over his bunk. Emerald lounges on her back with her scroll balanced on one knee. Dahlia taps out adjustments to her scope settings in a soft, mechanical rhythm.
"Feels nice," Neptune mutters after a pause. "Finally being out of armor for a day."
"Feels like breathing," Nebula says, eyes closed, hands folded behind her head. "First time my back hasn't hurt in two days."
The quiet settles in. Comfortable. Familiar.
BANG-BANG-BANG!
All heads turn. The sound echoes off the walls like gunfire. The knock is sharp and urgent.
Adam is already moving.
He crosses the room in two strides, stopping at the door, hand hovering just over the panel.
"Call it," Whitley mutters. "You think it's trouble?"
Adam doesn't answer immediately. Then: "If it is, they knocked too politely."
He taps the pad.
Standing on the other side is a woman in armor, her silhouette backlit by the overhead hall lights. She wears the unmistakable plating of a Spectre, the white armor accented with bold yellow trim and violet shoulder plates. Fresh dust scoring and scratches line the plates, especially around the knees and forearms, and dried mud clings stubbornly to the edges of her boots and joints. In her right hand, she holds her helmet at her side, a blocky but streamlined design with a heavy-duty visor and reinforced jaw plating. Her light blonde hair is matted to her forehead with sweat, some of it sticking out beneath a black headband that had likely seen better days.
Her chest rises and falls rapidly. She'd clearly run here from the hangar. However, her expression is anything but tired. Her wide sapphire-blue eyes are filled with desperate hope.
"Is it true?" she asks, voice strained and breathless.
Nora shoots to her feet so fast the bench behind her rattles the moment she sees who it is. "Yeah," she says, her grin wide. "Jaune's really back."
Lavender Arc staggers a step forward as if her knees had almost given out beneath her. Her whole body slackens, her breath catching in her throat. She steps inside without waiting for an invitation and sits heavily on one of the open benches in Wraith Squadron's shared barracks.
The room quiets instantly. All the scattered noise and tired banter vanishes into respectful silence. Everyone knows who Lavender is. She's a respected member of Tempest Squadron, and younger sister of Jaune Arc. Though last they heard was that Tempest had been deployed to quell a bandit insurrection in the southern portion of Solitas a couple weeks ago.
"Gods, I-I thought I was hallucinating when I overheard those guys in the hangar," she murmurs, staring at the floor.
Ren sits next to her, resting a calm hand on her shoulder.
"They're still getting settled," Ren says gently. "Winter has them in secure quarters. We haven't been cleared for visitation yet, but she said it wouldn't be long."
"I missed him," Lavender whispers. "I missed him so much. After Atlas fell, I thought…"
Nora nods. "We all thought, Lav, but… They survived. He survived."
Lavender leans back against the wall behind the bench, eyes fluttering closed for just a second. Her face bears the sharp fatigue of someone who hasn't slept in more than a day, and the kind of tension that no number of warfronts or victories ever truly cure. She runs a hand down her face, passing over the jagged scar that marks her left cheek.
"I asked around and they said you guys were the ones that found him," she says with a breathless laugh. "So I headed straight over here. I'm probably going to get in trouble for skipping debriefing, but I just needed to know."
"Would've done the same," Nora says with zero hesitation.
Fiona and Velvet had left for the MedBay earlier, but the rest of the squad lingered. Adam leans against the wall with arms folded, saying nothing but watching with a quiet intensity. Whitley has returned to his datapad, but his posture is more alert. And Vesper, ever watchful, had subtly repositioned near the hallway in case prying eyes.
She lets out a breath, running a gloved hand through her sweat-damp hair. "I just… I thought I'd never get the chance to tell him I'm proud of him. That I kept going because of him."
Nora reaches out and gently grasps her hand. "You'll get to say it soon."
"I want to see him with my own eyes," Lavender says, the Arc fire showing in her voice now. "I want to see my brother again."
The room is still, but no longer heavy. It held anticipation. Hope. Adam finally pushes off the wall, arms still crossed, and gives a slow, approving nod.
"You will," he says. "Count on it."
As the tension in Lavender's shoulders eases, Nora cracks a small grin. "And when you do, you'd better not cry before I do."
"I'm not crying," Lavender scoffs, clearing her throat. "Just… hydrated through the face."
"Yeah, okay," Neptune mutters with a chuckle.
Laughter spreads through the barracks.
Lavender stands and stretches with a quiet groan, the grind of her shoulder armor loud in the small barracks. "I'm gonna go hit the showers and get out of this tin can," she says, knocking her knuckles on her chestplate. "Going from Atlas to Vacuo weather is brutal."
"Lunch?" Nora asks, already scooping up her datapad.
"Wouldn't miss it," Lavender replies, grabbing her helmet and giving a nod to the others. "Someone better save me a seat, or I'm stealing yours."
"Fair warning," Vesper says without looking up, "if you touch my seat, we go to war."
Lavender just smirks and leaves the room.
The mess hall is a chorus of trays clinking, boots thudding on tile, and the low murmur of a dozen different conversations. Wraith Squadron claim their usual table near the rear observation window, the blue-tinted glass offering a sweeping view of the Amity skyline now draped in early afternoon sun.
Lavender, freshly showered and changed into her UKR fatigues with the collar open and sleeves rolled up slides into the seat next to Nora and Ren, a steaming tray of synth-protein and a well-earned coffee in front of her.
"Alright," she says, leaning her elbows on the table. "Talk."
There is a beat. Then Neptune lets out a long exhale and leans forward.
"It started like any other op," he says. "Classic recon-in-force. Sweep and clear. The kind of mission we've done a hundred times since the kingdoms fell."
"Standard cult shit," Vesper said. "Trying to ascend or bond with Grimm, or some twisted interpretation of it."
Lavender doesn't hide her grimace. "Let me guess: they used some old ruin for a base?"
"Old cathedral," Nebula says. "Worship hall converted into a Grimm-breeding nest. Walls covered in corruption. The usual nightmare fuel."
"We came in hot," Adam adds. "Split into two teams, standard breach and clear. Dahlia and Vesper handled the jammer and overwatch. The rest of us cleared the flanks and charged the sanctum."
Lavender raised an eyebrow. "Smooth breach?"
"That part was smooth, but as you know, that never lasts." Whitley mutters, arms crossed.
Emerald gives a short nod. "They were already deep into a summoning. Some kind of experiment with Grimm essence. Not a fusion like their usual stuff. They were pulling the energy from something else."
"And that's when it got bad?" Lavender asks.
"They succeeded," Nora says flatly. "Summoned something big. Grimm and not. Regenerative. Smart. Aggressive. It dropped half a ceiling on us and still kept coming."
Lavender looked between them, her stomach tightening. "What happened?"
"We tracked it underground," Adam says. "Couldn't risk letting it get loose."
"We found the source of its power," Vesper adds. "Some kind of nexus beneath the cathedral. Radiating Grimm corruption. The creature was feeding off it. Regenerating through it."
Lavender blinks. "So how the hell did you kill it?"
Whitley gives a sideways look toward Adam, who simply rests one arm on the table.
"I pinned it," Whitley says after a moment. "Locked it down with gravity glyphs. Took all the dust I had left."
"And then Adam…" Neptune grins despite himself. "Well, Adam did Adam things."
Lavender's eyes flick back to Adam. "Let me guess: red-glowing sword, dramatic speech, lots of flower petals?"
Adam's mouth twitches. "No speech."
"But definitely the sword," Vesper says.
"And definitely the flower petals," Velvet adds, just arriving with Fiona, the two of them sliding back into their seats with drinks in hand.
Lavender leans back with a low whistle. "Gods. That's one hell of an op. So, where does Jaune play into this?"
Dahlia cuts in, "We get back on the Bullhead and mid-flight, we get a comm ping. High priority. From General Schnee herself."
Lavender blinks. "The General reached out mid-op?"
"Direct line," Whitley adds. "Unusual, I know."
"The Staff of Creation," Ren says quietly. "They picked up a matching energy signature out in the middle of nowhere of the Vacuo desert. Unstable, erratic. No one knew what to expect."
Lavender's jaw tightens. She leans in. "Wait, was that…?"
"Yeah," Nora says. "That was when we found them."
"Team RWBY," Ren confirms softly. "And Jaune."
"They were just… standing there," Fiona says. "Like they'd come back from a walk in the park. Not a scratch on them. Like no time had passed."
"But for us," Emerald says, "it has been five years. We thought they were gone. Lost in that void between the realms. Maybe worse."
"They didn't look like cultists," Vesper adds. "No corruption, no augmentation. But orders were clear, approach with caution. No signature weapons. No identifiers. They didn't know if it was a trap. Which is why they still don't know who we are by the way."
"It was a standoff until Ozcar Pine came over the line and had us ask some question to Ruby Rose to confirm her identity. Apparently she passed the test, because we were immediately ordered to bring them in." Whitley explains.
"We flew them back in silence," Nora adds. "There wasn't much else to say. The war moved five years without them, and now… they're here. Like time just blinked."
Lavender is silent for a long moment, eyes moving from face to face. The weight of the moment washes over her again. The revelation, the confusion, the sheer scale of it all. Not just a reunion. A fracture in time itself.
"It's strange," Ren says finally. "He looks older… but also like no time's passed at all. Like looking at a photograph that suddenly stands up and walks again."
Lavender finally speaks, her voice steady. "Thank you. For telling me. I… I wasn't sure how much of it was rumor and how much was just my heart wanting to believe it."
"He's really here," Nora says gently. "We'll see him again soon."
Then Lavender takes a closer look across Wraith Squadron.
"Wait," she said, scanning the table. "Where's Harriet?"
That one quieted the group for a moment.
"She's in the MedBay," Velvet says. "She… overclocked hard on exfil. Carried Fireball and another body through enemy fire. Pushed her Semblance beyond safe output."
"Both legs," Fiona adds. "She'll be okay. But she's down for another day at least."
Lavender grimaces. "Damn. That's rough."
"She didn't hesitate," Neptune says. "Typical Overdrive. Always the first through the fire."
Whitley nods. "We'll check on her later tonight."
"Glad she made it," Lavender murmurs. "She's a pain in the ass but… losing someone never gets easier."
There is a quiet agreement around the table at that. Then, as they shift to smaller side conversations and laughter starts to return, Whitley mentions something that catches Lavender's attention mid-bite.
"Thankfully Hawk-01 and Hawk-02 showed up when they did. Two F/A-1000s lit up the whole outpost with close air support."
Lavender's head lifts slowly. "Say that again?"
"Hawk-01," Whitley repeats. "Air support on the evac. Her and her wingman each made a gun run. Leveled most of the compound."
Lavender sets her fork down. "No way."
"What?" Nora asks.
Lavender laughs. "That's Coral. Coral Arc. That's her callsign."
Everyone turns.
"Wait, wait, wait. Your sister?" Neptune asks.
"Yeah." Lavender grins. "She's in the Black Hawks, part of the 111th Attack Wing out of Skyfang Air Force Base in southern Vale, support and patrol rotation. She's been cycling between air strike and mainland overwatch. She's insane behind the stick. If it was her flying that run, I'd be shocked if any of that outpost was left standing."
"Small damn world," Dahlia says, smiling wryly.
Adam gives a low chuckle. "It was impressive. We owe her a drink."
Lavender smirks. "You can tell her that in person. She loves praise almost as much as whiskey."
"Sounds like her and Nora would get along," Emerald says dryly.
Lavender leans back in her seat, looking out the mess hall windows again as the blue horizon stretches beyond the glass. She feels lighter than she has in years. Just a little bit longer and she'd get to see her brother again. After five years, just a little longer is nothing.
Author's Note:
We're back, and so is everybody's favorite mute waifu. Ruby's own experience in the tree is the reason she's being so forgiving towards Neo, because she understands just what happens in there and has an idea of what Neo went through. That grants her a layer of trust. As for Neo, she literally has nothing to live for, so when she is offered a purpose, she is quick to take it.
As for Lavender, I'll just put it here, her Spectre call sign is "Brightline".
Thanks for reading, next chapter will be Monday!