Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Xuri comes to slowly, senses returning one at a time as she regains consciousness. Something is pressing into her stomach, uncomfortably hard. She’s upside down, doubled over – she’s being carried. That’s someone’s shoulder she’s feeling, and now that she’s slightly more awake she can feel an arm wrapped around her waist as well. 

She blinks her eyes open tentatively and sees white on her rescuer’s clothes. Or some other light color, it’s hard to tell. Faunus night vision doesn’t give color perception. Is this even her rescuer? It could be her kidnapper. Is there any way to tell?

The last thing she remembers is an attack. Fire, and maniacal laughter. So much fire. Her father had her hand and led her out of the house, only to be knocked down and away from her as someone pounced from an upper floor window. Someone who Xuri’s memory says was also a faunus, but she doesn’t recall the type. Xuri’s mind is still foggy and she can’t be completely sure, but she knows neither person in her memory was wearing white. 

Probably a rescuer then. A huntsman or huntress who had come to her parents’ aid. But Xuri can only hear only one set of pounding footsteps on the dirt, so whoever this is, they must have come too late. 

She stirs and makes a strained noise, but her current position over someone’s shoulder makes it impossible to speak. 

“That you, Xuri? You awake?” A woman’s voice, and someone who knows her name. 

Xuri gives another groan in response, and the woman’s running slows. She heaves Xuri forward to drop to her feet, still supported in the woman’s arms. Xuri’s knees give out beneath her and she is gently lowered to the ground, resting back against a large rock. Now that she is a little more awake, she finally registers a sharp pain in her left shoulder, and she looks down to see a deep gash wrapped in bloody cloth. 

“You look familiar… Where… What happened?”

The woman in probably-white smiles, and kneels down in front of Xuri. “I’m a friend of your parents,” she says. “My name is Eve. Probably should change it after tonight, yours too, but there’s no hiding those zebra stripes of yours. Anyway, I’m a huntress. Your parents and I worked together sometimes. What do you remember?”

“We were attacked. I was asleep, I think we all were. There was a fire. I got outside and… I got hit from behind, I think? Who would do that?”

The woman’s expression darkens. “Servants of the Queen,” she says. “Question is, which Queen?”

“What do you mean?”

“Never mind. I don’t want to drag you into our work if you don’t have to be. Anyway, you’re still hurt. I’ve got a friend who’s a doctor. I mean, really she’s a vet, but point is, she can help. Do you think you can walk?”

Xuri nods, and stands with only a little help. 

“Okay. I took us out of the city for safety and we’ve been making a wide arc around. Let me call Julie and we’ll head back to meet her on the edge of town.”

“I thought things couldn’t get any worse… but here we are.” Xuri’s guardian leans on her weapon, the point still stuck through one of their three attackers. “Sorry for roping you into all this. We’ve got a pretty big target on our backs these days.”

“Sure seems like it. It’s been a year and they’re just not letting up.”

Xuri gets only a sigh in response, and a squelch as her companion’s blade is yanked free. “No… We’ve lost the ones who killed your parents. We’re being hunted by a different group now.”

“How do you know? Who are these people?” Xuri wipes down her blade and sheathes it across her back. “Eve… what’s really going on?”

Her guardian only smiles softly and nods. “You know, I should have done this a long time ago. Told you what all this is really about. Sorry.” She moves to sit against one wall of the abandoned warehouse where they had just fought off a trio of well-trained, silent attackers. “I brought Julie in on it all that first night, but you were on too many painkillers to be able to listen.”

Eve puts an arm around the girl she’d rescued a year ago. “So, all the kingdoms have Councils these days, but there are still two people in the world who claim the title of Queen. One is local to Vacuo, the other has influence over all of Remnant. It was the latter who attacked your family, the one whose servants say Her Grace. These people,” she waves a hand at the bodies in front of them, “served Her Eminence instead. But we happen to have something that both of them desperately want.”

Xuri’s eyes narrow in confusion. “What is it?”

“The only key that can unlock a power of great destruction. Though the key itself is pretty impressive too. Do you know the old fairy tale, The Four Seasons?”

Xuri’s heart pounds and her face flushes as she looks down at her scroll. She can hardly believe this day is finally here. After two years at Shade and two more on the run, fighting off trained assailants on a regular basis, she’s finally done it. The dreaded exam is behind her. Xuri is finally a huntress. 

Her parents would have been so proud of her. 

And suddenly, all her elation is gone. Two years now since the attack. Since the Queen’s pawns had struck at her family in the night. 

Many things had been taken from her, it’s true. But fortune favors the bold, and there are none so bold as those with nothing to lose. But fortunately for Xuri, and unfortunately for her boldness, the space her parents left behind has not remained empty. 

There’s her Honorary Weird Aunt Nora now – the one whose name sounds like it can’t possibly be real, but if she has another, Xuri’s never heard a whisper of it. There’s Dr. Silver, still a successful veterinarian by day, now also learning basic combat by night. And of course, Eve Lumen. The one who had started it all. Who had brought Xuri into the circle and opened her eyes to the real world around her. 

She would be so proud of Xuri today too. 

Three years since her parents’ deaths. 

Two years since she learned the truth about the world. 

One year since she became a licensed huntress. 

And here Xuri is, with her sword stuck through yet another one of the seemingly endless parade of pawns sent by one Queen or another, all of them in way over their head. They’re all the same. All the fanaticism for a cause they probably don’t even understand, none of the common sense to know when to cut their losses and retreat. 

As far as Xuri’s preferred activities go, killing is pretty near the bottom of the list. Even when they’ve tried to kill her first. But far too often, they leave her no other choice. 

It won’t be long until the Grimm set in. It hardly takes anything to bring a pack down on their heads these days, and the emotions of this battle would surely be enough. Two weeks since the attack on Beacon Academy, and the CCT is still offline. Whatever happened there after the Atlesian robots turned, it must have been bad. 

Ever since the incident in Vale, Eve had been unreasonably disturbed. She never talks about her past, but Xuri has the distinct feeling she’s from there, or has friends there. Maybe she attended Beacon herself, many years ago. There’s something more than work anyway, though work is also important. Vale is Ozpin’s kingdom. The one supposedly safe refuge in this invisible war, now brought low seemingly by its ally. 

Xuri knows better than to blame Atlas for the assault. There’s only one reason anyone would plan something like the Fall of Beacon, and Atlas doesn’t benefit from it. 

She has always had a choice: to continue on, or to try to leave it all behind and live a normal life. She keeps taking the same option day after day. And now Xuri can only hope that she does not have Choice.

Xuri pulls out a chair and sits down at the other side of the table. “What’s that?”

Eve looks up as if startled. “Feather. Found it while I was out.”

“It’s pretty.”

“It’s just from a local hawk.” The woman in white turns the feather over in her hands again and stares at it solemnly. “It… brings back memories. Old ones.”

“You want to talk about it?”

She’s answered only with a deep sigh. “I… had another life once, before all this. Before… the magic changed everything. Almost feels like I was a separate person back then. Anyway, I had a girlfriend back then who used to bring me big feathers just like this. She was always… troubled. One day she just disappeared without a trace, and the only goodbye I got was a feather left on my pillow.”

“I’m sorry,” Xuri offers. 

“I’d call it a sign, if I believed in such things.” Eve stares off into the distance. “You know, I had a dream last night. I was standing in the middle of an immense battlefield, but everyone ignored me as if I wasn’t even there. I had a sword in one hand and a feather in the other… solid black, like it was plucked from the Angel of Death herself.” 

She stops suddenly and tries to clarify. “Not Her Grace, I mean. As far as anyone knows, she doesn’t have wings. But in the dream… I think I might have been Death, actually. Invisible, overseeing it all. I was looking for anyone I knew and finally found you all, even my old team from years ago too, but the moment I got there you all started fighting each other. And then I looked down and saw the sword in my hand was made of gold, and drenched in blood.”

Xuri reaches across the table to take Eve’s hand, and the feather flutters down to rest on the table nearby. “Well, it’s over now. I wouldn’t put much stock in nightmares. We’re alive and we’ve got more allies than ever, with that new firefly girl.”

“If she can be trusted. It’s been quiet here, and now we know why. Everything was focused on Haven. We might be next on the list again.”

“And if so, we’ll be prepared. We’ve kept it safe for four years. We can handle a little more.”

“Hi mom. Hi dad. Sorry I couldn’t get out here more often. It’s been a busy year, but then, when is it ever not? My two year anniversary of becoming a huntress is coming up soon, so that’s exciting. I told you I didn’t finish at Shade, after… you know… but your huntress friend here gave me the best training I could have ever wanted.

“I take all the shipment guard missions I see. My semblance makes them so easy. I fly ahead with half of the caravan owners and leave them at the endpoint. It takes some concentration, but I can hold the beginning spot in my blink queue until I get all the way there. And then it’s done, they can just hand stuff to me at one spot and I give it to the other guys somewhere else. 

“Of course, there was that one time I waited too long and got stranded at the far end. That sixteen second timer is strict. On the plus side though, I’ve gotten really good at counting time even while doing other things. But I’ve only had to get picked up that once, and Eve got to me in a couple hours. 

“It’s all search and destroy missions for her. All Grimm, all the time. All easy. You know how it is. Between the two of us, we take in enough bounty money to support ourselves and help our friend Jade too. You’d like her, I think. She’s a huntress too, about my age, very bright… a little too bright, sometimes. Her semblance makes light, and a lot of it. She got hired on at Shade this past year, which has been great for us, considering, you know… the situation. 

“Vacuo is a mess. You know that. I know you both used to work with Theo and Ozpin, spying and all that. I understand why you never told me. It’s a lot. But that side of things has been quiet for a long time now. It’s almost like she’s forgotten about us. There’s still the other Queen though, and her reach just keeps getting longer. We can’t do much to her outright, but Nora’s radio station has been great for organizing the independents who are still left. 

“But that’s enough business. We’ve got it under control. I just wish you could be here and see me now. See all of us. Vacuo may be a mess, but it’s our mess and I’m glad I’m still living here. Oh, sorry, got to go, I think. It was nice to talk.”

Xuri turns away from the two identical graves and runs down from the hilltop, now facing back toward the city. “Hey mom! What is it?”

Xuri had two parents once, and had lost them both… only to pick up a third on the very same night. It almost felt like a different lifetime back then, five years ago. Likewise, her new mother had two children once, in a different life, but now there was only her third. 

“Look.” 

She follows where Eve is pointing, in the sky over the city. “An airship?”

“Not just any airship.” This one looks like an Atlas design but fancier, with four wings arranged in an X instead of the usual two. Long streamers trail behind from each wingtip as it flies in from the east, slowing as it descends toward the ground. “What is a Schnee private jet doing here? ”

Chapter Text

“I know I can’t stop you once you’ve made up your minds,” the voice of Professor Ozpin projects from his robotic speakers, “but let me once again make it clear that I do not consider it safe to leave Atlas at this time. The Relic of Creation is more at risk than ever before. With General Ironwood dead and the power of the Winter Maiden now in the hands of that reckless young…  girl, I suppose… she could be significantly worse. But she also could be—” 

This earns him an immediate glare from several of the young huntsmen and huntresses he is addressing. 

“If the power has chosen to recognize May Marigold, then I cannot argue with it,” Ozbot tries to backpedal. “But the fact is that Tyrian and Salem herself are both in Atlas, and if we leave, there is very little stopping her from stealing the staff just like she took the lamp from you.”

Ruby shakes her head. “I don’t think she will. The Relic most at risk right now is Destruction.”

“Which you believe based on things Salem told you. Do you not think she would lie to you, to make you let down your guard?”

“I know she would. So would you. But emotional reactions are hard to fake, and so I do believe the world may have less to fear from her now. I hope so anyway, and I’d like to give her this one chance to prove it. I didn’t want to let Salem have the lamp, but now that she does have it, I believe we should wait to see what she does before we decide to retake it or not. And you saw her too at Atlas Academy. She didn’t know the staff was holding Atlas in the sky, and when she found out we all saw her recalculating all her plans before our eyes. She’s not going to steal that one.”

Ozbot is silent for a moment, considering his own plans for retaking the Relic of Knowledge and maintaining control of all the others. 

“Are you guys going to help us pack or not?” Weiss’s call draws everyone’s attention, and Nora and Ren break from the gathering to assist her with her cart stacked high with suitcases. They’ll be taking the Schnee family airship to Vacuo. As the new General, Winter won’t need it. Willow never wanted it. Whitley doesn’t know how to fly it. 

Of course, Weiss doesn’t know how to fly it either, but Ozbot and Qrow both do. They’re so lucky to have Qrow still with them. He’s the only trustworthy and responsible adult around, unless maybe you count Ren. 

Ozbot hasn’t moved, so Ruby turns her attention back to him and picks up where she left off. “We’d still like your help, Professor, but if you want to stay behind in Atlas you can. But we’re going to Vacuo whether you like it or not. The Relic of Choice is safe as long as we have Jaune with us, and I don’t believe Creation is in danger. But we don’t know anything about the Summer Maiden or the vault at Shade.”

“I’m not the Fall Maiden,” Jaune says. “Pyrrha is. We just happen to… live together.”

“Yeah, but nobody knows that. Salem texted me after it was all over and asked if I was the next Fall. I told her no, but didn’t say who got it instead. She thinks it went random this time, and the search could keep her busy for years.”

Pale pink light flashes from Jaune’s eyes and suddenly his body’s posture is different, a little straighter, a little more aware of the group’s surroundings just as a force of habit even when there is no danger. “I agree with Ruby,” Pyrrha says through Jaune’s voice. “Outside of our teams, only Winter, Penny, May, and Marrow know that I am alive again. We have a Fall Maiden where nobody would ever think to look. What do we know about Summer?”

“Not much, I’m afraid,” Ozbot says. “Vacuo went dark years ago, since Theo – Biz – evidently has been here since then. The last thing I do believe to be true was a letter from an unidentified agent, who said the new Summer Maiden was a zebra faunus named Xuri. This agent had the Maiden in their care at the time but said they faced frequent attacks from all sides.”

“Well, that’s even more reason to go to Vacuo now,” Ruby points out. “Come on. It looks like the last stuff is all loaded.”

Ruby turns and jogs over to the airship door, and jumps onboard. Pyrrha follows close behind and is helped up by Ren and Nora. And reluctantly, Ozbot too makes his way to the side of the airship. 

“Just one last thing we need from the Schnee manor!” Ruby looks out to see Blake and Yang carrying Weiss between them by the ankles and shoulders. Weiss has long since given up protest and is resigned to her fate, and Ruby can tell she’s trying very hard not to smile. 

The trio arrive and Yang moves as if to heave Weiss bodily into the airship. Weiss’s eyes go wide and she starts to cry out, but Yang stops on her own and only laughs. She lifts Weiss’s shoulders instead and plants an upside-down kiss on her forehead, and then Blake drops her teammate’s ankles unceremoniously to let Weiss stand on her own. 

Qrow pokes his head out of the front cabin. “Everyone here and ready to go?” Everyone nods, and Qrow steps out completely to look over the edge of the airship bay. “Oz, you coming?”

There is an audible sigh from Ozbot’s speakers, and he engages the rockets in his feet to jump up into the airship as well. 

“Alright then. Let’s get this show on the road.” Qrow disappears back into the front, and a moment later the airship’s engines kick on. 

The ship shudders and starts to lift away from the ground. There is a click from the bay door as it prepares to slide shut, until suddenly a shout comes from the ground below. 

“STAY!”

The airship halts in midair with its doors only partly closed. Qrow comes back to investigate, standing alongside Ruby in the opening. 

Marrow and Clover wave up at them from the landing pad. Behind them a car is still running and has both front doors wide open after its passengers abandoned it in a rush. “Looks like we made it in time after all,” Clover calls up. “Lucky me, huh? I’m coming with you!”

In an instant Clover has his weapon out, and he hooks the side door of the airship to pull himself up and inside. He gives a thumbs-up to Marrow down below, and time gradually returns to normal. Qrow bolts back into the front cabin to grab the controls before the airship restarts completely, and Clover follows to take the copilot’s seat. 

“You’re really quitting your job to run off to Vacuo?” Qrow asks. 

“Marrow can handle it, and General Schnee approves. Harriet’s still pissed she didn’t get the leader spot, but Councilwoman Hill insisted. Marrow’s the one who was there with May when all that went down, after all.” Clover shrugs. “Besides, I couldn’t let you try and deal with these kids alone.”

“Well, thanks, I guess. We’ll take all the help we can get. And all the luck. Like you finding us at the last second like that.”

“Yep. Marrow was helping me pack, and we both lost track of time. You ought to see him when he’s in a hurry. He probably broke a hundred traffic laws on the way here – though I admit, there’s no law that explicitly forbids freezing other cars in place to swerve around them. Not yet anyway. They’ll have to write one just for him.”

“Hey, Uncle Clover!” Ruby says, poking her head around the doorway. “Like your new outfit!”

It’s definitely strange seeing him in anything but an Ace Ops uniform, although his notable lack of shirt sleeves isn’t strange at all. He’s thrown on a green tank with a gold leafy design along the bottom, a slightly-too-short brown vest with his usual emblem pinned to it, green and gold capri pants, and combat boots that look suspiciously similar to the uniform ones. Clover looks back at her, sets down his bag on the airship floor, and pulls something out.

…Is that Qrow’s old cape? It might be his new one. Ruby honestly can’t tell which one Qrow himself has. Whichever one it is, it’s definitely one of the two, and Clover proceeds to drape it around his neck like a scarf without breaking eye contact with Ruby. That aside, he grins and says, “Thanks.”

Ruby snickers. 

Qrow glances over. “You kept it.” He sounds surprised.

“You thought I wouldn’t? Should probably keep an eye on the controls, though.”

Muttering something angrily under his breath, Qrow returns his attention to flying. He’s smiling, for what it’s worth, so in a flurry of rose petals Ruby returns to the main cabin. She takes a seat between Weiss and Blake. Seatbelt goes on, and then she flops sideways so her head is in Weiss’ lap and her legs are across Blake’s.

“To Vacuo!” Ruby says cheerfully, pumping a fist in the air. Then she yawns, and her eyelids slowly drift shut. To Vacuo indeed. They don’t have much information about what’s going on in Vacuo beyond what they got from Biz and Ozbot, but they’ll figure it out.

They can handle whatever’s waiting in Vacuo.

They could not, in fact, handle what was waiting in Vacuo. 

“I’m sorry,” Yang says. “Council what, who? ”

“Councilwoman Ozma,” the guardsman repeats. “Inter-kingdom transport falls under her jurisdiction, and she has ordered all incoming airships searched for contraband or dust.” 

Yang gives the guard another indignant look. “Really? Can you not see that this is a Schnee family airship and we have Weiss Schnee right here?” She points over at her teammate. “Of course we’re carrying some dust.” 

“Regardless, the law is still in place.” The guard stands his ground. “All potentially dangerous materials entering the kingdom, including dust, are to be impounded until a background check on its carriers is complete. It should take no more than a week.” 

“A week? ” Yang exclaims. 

“I assure you, the Kingdom of Vacuo is well defended. Nothing catastrophic will happen in that time, and if all the checks come out well, then you will be able to claim your weapons and resume normal activity… in a week.”

Jaune pushes his way to the front of the group. “We came here to help the Headmaster of Shade with a classified project. We can’t afford this kind of delay.”

“And besides,” Weiss says, “every one of us is a huntress. We literally can’t do our jobs without our weapons.” 

Behind her, Ren makes no comment about being grouped in with the girls. But the guardsman takes notice. “You there,” he says to Jaune, “you’re a huntress too? You just going to let her say that?”

Jaune’s eyes flash pink. “Yes,” Pyrrha says. “I am. Our apologies to the Vacuo Council, but our mission simply cannot be held up for however long it takes for the bureaucracy to function.” 

Pyrrha’s eyes become rimmed with orange fire and she holds out one hand as the guard steps back in fear. “Sleep,” she commands. “Everything is normal. You have done your job as you were told. You have nothing to report.”

The officer slumps forward into Pyrrha and Yang’s waiting arms. “Nothing… to report…” he murmurs softly as his eyes drift shut. 

“Come on. Let’s lay him in the office over there, pretend he checked us out and then took a break.” The pair carry him away toward the small enclosed office on the corner of the landing area. 

The door to the airship’s front cabin slides open and Qrow and Clover come out. “You kids get everything sorted without me?” Qrow asks. “Hey, where are they heading?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ruby tells him. “Everything’s under control. We’re free to go.” 

Qrow looks closer at the two who are carrying the sleeping guard. “Something tells me we ought to go sooner rather than later. Cloves, go pop the trunk. Let’s grab our stuff and head out.”

Clover disappears back into the front to open the cargo hold, and all the huntresses – and Ren – walk around to the back and fetch their weapons and suitcases. 

Only Qrow remains by the main cabin door, along with Ozbot who brought nothing but his cane. “That Pyrrha is a menace,” Oz comments. “She needs training in magic. More importantly, she needs training in when to use magic… and when not to.” He nods over at where she and Yang are now returning. 

“Well, you’re the best teacher she could have,” Qrow says. “If we’re going to have a Maiden or maybe two on our team…”

“Then they will need significant guidance,” Ozbot finishes for him. “And Ruby as well. I don’t like the way she has become so… familiar… with Salem. We should keep a close eye on her. On all of them.”

“I can handle my niece. For magic, we need you.”

The full group returns from the cargo hold with everything they brought from Atlas. Yang takes her suitcase from Ruby, though her weapons never left her arms to begin with. Pyrrha gladly takes her and Jaune’s new equipment, eager to put it to use after Pietro’s latest modifications. They share a shield now, which shifts forms between Jaune’s kite shape and a round version for Pyrrha to throw. Weapons remain separate, Jaune’s heirloom sword still mostly unmodified but now accompanied by a replica of Pyrrha’s gun-spear constructed from Vytal Festival footage. 

“We all ready to head out?” Ruby asks. “Oz, you’ve got a safehouse in every kingdom, right? Lead the way.”

Ozbot audibly sighs, despite no longer actually having lungs. “Well, this is off to a good start,” he grumbles. “What a wonderful idea it was to come to Vacuo.”

“He’s back! He’s here!” The door of the Summer Maiden’s home slams open and a firefly faunus rushes inside, gathering her team with her excited shouts. “Ozpin’s safehouse was opened! He’s here, and he’s brought a whole team with him!”

Eve and Xuri Lumen both appear from another room, and the three all take a seat at the kitchen table. A moment later, Xuri stands again and goes to close the door, then blinks back to her previous position with her semblance and carefully brushes her tail to the side so she can sit comfortably. 

“Ozpin is here?” Eve asks. “Are you sure?”

Jade nods. “Ten people went into his safehouse just now. I followed them all the way from the airport. They arrived on a Schnee airship.”

“We saw that one!” Xuri says excitedly. “Mom and I were out visiting my parents and we saw it fly in from a distance.”

“None of us are really fans of the Schnee Dust Company,” Eve says, “but I’ve heard the daughter Winter is decent. Did you see if it was her with Ozpin?”

“I didn’t get a very close look.” Jade shrugs. “It was two adult men and eight kids, probably students. I suppose not really kids. Maybe four years younger than Xuri and me. I took a picture, but they’re too far to make much out. Nora might be able to use it though.” 

Jade shifts so that instead of sitting sideways on her chair, she leans against the back with her long wings and the hard shell covering them hanging over the top of the backrest. “I didn’t see Ozpin’s cane, but one of the adults was wearing green. The other’s in gray, got black hair, kind of scruffy looking. Every one of them’s armed too, despite the import controls.”

“How’d he manage that?” Eve muses. “Either he’s a friend of Her Eminence, not likely, or he’s just done something that will make him her enemy.” 

“Isn’t that a good thing, though?” Xuri asks. “We could use some help against her too.”

Eve shakes her head with a grim expression. “It just means we’ll be fighting on two fronts. Ozpin is a beacon for magical interference. Where he goes, Her Grace’s agents won’t be far behind.”

“So what do we do?”

“Keep the Summer Maiden power safe, just as we’ve done for all this time. We do need allies, but I don’t want to let anyone see Xuri just yet, not even Oz. We shouldn’t come out until we’re absolutely sure of what we’re dealing with.”

Xuri and Jade both nod. “Makes sense,” Jade says. “What’s the plan?”

“Jade, you call Nora. Tell her Oz is here and I’d like a short broadcast to the effect of ‘newcomers to Vacuo may find allies for their ongoing struggle’, something like that. Push it on the override frequency too. I want to make sure they all hear it.”

“And me?” Xuri asks. 

“You can bring me some unlined paper and a pencil, and preheat the oven to 375. We’ll need flour, butter, sugar, chocolate chips, you know the drill. I’m going to call Julie and see if she can make a delivery for us. It has to be someone who doesn’t stand out, and she’s the only other human we’ve got.”

“Hazel…” In the murky globe of a seer, Salem’s face shows against a backdrop of a dimly lit room. “Do you have anything to report about the situation in Vacuo?”

“Little change from the last time we spoke, Your Grace.” Hazel sits on the edge of his bed, staring into the jellyfish’s bulb while a single one of its tentacles wraps around his wrist. “I do not believe the headmaster suspects my allegiance, nor that of Emerald and Mercury. It’s fortunate we never met face to face during the brief time he previously served you.” 

“Good. And the Council?”

“Held together more with threats than any sense of duty to the citizens. They have little real power here.” Hazel shrugs lightly before continuing. “If I may ask, Your Grace, what is the news from Atlas?”

Salem smiles. “Mostly good news, although we have lost Arthur’s services. General Ironwood is dead. Winter Schnee has taken his place as General, and the new Headmaster is… Theodore Berzins.”

“Theo?” Hazel’s eyes narrow. “How is that possible? Unless Teshin…”

“Teshin failed. Intentionally or not, I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter. But the real Theo is here now. He opposes us, but…” Salem raises one finger. “The new Winter Maiden is not loyal to the institutions of Atlas. She and her team could be turned, and I will be working on that while I’m here, although it’s no longer a high priority to take the staff.”

“Not a priority? Are we returning to the previously planned focus on Shade, then?”

“Indeed. As we were thinking, before Ozpin took the lamp to Atlas, and Cinder followed. I have the lamp now and no one will take it from me.” 

Salem leans out of the seer’s view for a moment, and when she returns she holds up a softly glowing blue lamp in front of her. “And I’ve come to enjoy working undercover in the field. Depending on my progress here, I may join you in Vacuo at some point. Right now, however, someone else should have just arrived.”

Hazel nods. He can guess the name his master is about to say. He stands, and the seer follows him as he goes out to the living room and waves over the two ‘students’ who share this safehouse. 

Salem waits until Emerald and Mercury are both visible in her seer before speaking again. “The students you all fought at Haven Academy,” she begins, watching the reactions on each of her agents’ faces. “The silver-eyed girl and her friends. They should have landed in Vacuo just now.”

Emerald and Mercury both scowl, while Hazel remains impassive. 

“They are traveling alongside Ozpin, but they are no longer loyal to him. You are to treat them as neutral parties, except for Ruby Rose, who you may consider friendly. Do not do anything to antagonize them while their recruitment is not yet complete.”

“You want us to work with them?” Emerald exclaims. “The same people who have been fighting us since Beacon? But… what about Cinder? She wouldn’t–”

“Cinder,” Salem interrupts with a glare, “Foolishly attacked the Winter Maiden and got herself killed. After she even more foolishly attacked me, and barely escaped with her life.”

All three agents in Vacuo pull back in shock at these words. Cinder turned on her master? The real surprise is that she even lived long enough to challenge Winter afterward. 

“Is there anything else we should know about the students?” Hazel asks. 

“And how did you get them working for us?” Mercury adds after him. 

“For one thing, they are no longer students. General Ironwood granted their licenses. I have given Ruby the use of a seer, so you may speak to her directly if you wish. As for how…” 

Salem leans back in her seat, and the seer’s view shifts to follow her. “I merely followed the same pattern as any recruitment. For example, Cinder was a person who wanted and admired power. So to gain her allegiance, I showed her power. Ruby, on the other hand, is someone who wants and values friendship. So to gain her allegiance… I have been showing her friendship. It’s been working remarkably well, despite the… side effects.”

“If we’re not to fight them, I’d prefer to just stay away,” Emerald says. “We have our assignments already. Team RWBY doesn’t factor into them.”

“If that is what you desire.” Salem doesn’t force the issue. “I was merely letting you know the situation. Hazel will continue to manage things in Vacuo, while Tyrian and I work on the new Winter and Fall Maidens. That will be all, for now.”

The image in the seer fades out and is replaced by swirling smoke, and with a wave of Hazel’s hand the jellyfish floats away. 

A knock comes at Her Eminence’s office door. Two quick raps, a pause, and then two more. 

“Come in!” she calls, already standing to greet the person she knows is there. She pushes her long golden hair back behind her shoulders as she straightens up. The stacks of official paperwork on her desk go abandoned as she strides across the room to meet her guest almost in the doorway, pushing the door shut behind the other woman and immediately sweeping her into a tight embrace. 

“You’re back early,” the aspiring queen murmurs, already moving to kiss her partner’s neck. “How’s my favorite spy doing today?”

The spy smiles and closes her eyes, but only for a moment before pulling away. “I have a report,” she says, disappointed that she has to interrupt, but her assignment comes first. 

Both take a seat at the small round table in the middle of the office. “A Schnee airship landed here today,” the spy says. Across from her, Her Eminence’s expression darkens and she clenches one hand into a fist. “Not Jacques or Winter,” the spy assures her. “It was Weiss, the rebellious ex-heiress. Along with the leader of Ironwood’s Ace Ops but not the rest, and quite a few people Weiss’s age. Probably all students like her.”

“We need another report from Atlas,” Her Eminence comments. “But it’s so hard to contact anyone in another kingdom these days… especially that one. It’s been close to three months with no news.”

“This may be good for us. Our fight with Schnee Senior has been on hold ever since the borders closed, but we do know his daughters never liked him. Weiss can help us there, and one of her companions can help us here at home.”

“Oh?” A single eyebrow raises in question. 

“There’s a girl with them, tall, shaggy yellowish hair, wears bulky white armor. Honestly, I might have mistaken her for a boy if it weren’t for the flaming eyes.”

The queen’s eyes go wide and a smile slowly spreads across her face. “Another one…” she breathes. “What color?”

“Orange. It fits with the story, and with the other records we’ve turned up. At this point I think we can assume there really are four.”

“Perfect. This gives us a few options. Ideally, I’d like to learn from this new Maiden. Maybe she knows more, or can at least guide us to the other one. But I fear we’re going to need General Tuvul’s help to bring her in.” Her Eminence leans back in her seat and puts her hands behind her head. 

“You think we need more dirt on him to keep him loyal?”

A smile, again, with a dismissive wave of one hand. “Probably not, but if you think you can get some, go right ahead. I’ve actually been thinking about how we could get another Council seat, in addition to his and our oh so cooperative Headmaster.”

Her partner clasps her hands in front of her chest and cocks her head to one side, waiting. 

“Avantus is becoming a problem,” the shadowy leader says. “She’s been increasingly hostile toward me every time we meet. It’s possible Tuvul may have confided in her, testing the waters to see if our influence can be shaken off.”

“Well, that is a problem… Shall we kill her and start fresh with a special election?”

Her Eminence only snickers and shakes her head. “No. She can finish her term. She just… won’t be quite herself for a while.”

Chapter Text

[Instrumental]

Fade in from black with light spilling down from the top of the frame. The sun is rising in the distance, but the horizon is not in view. All that is seen is sand. 

[Burning birds pursue their wilted roses]

Pan up over desert to see the city of Vacuo in the distance, with the ziggurat of Shade Academy clearly silhouetted against the morning sun. A black bird flies from behind the camera toward the city. 

[Or they’ll all be buried in the sands of time]

The camera lowers its position while still looking at the city. A hint of a second black bird can be seen crossing the top before it is lost out of frame. 

[Stick together]

Focus in on Team RWBY facing the camera, on the left side of the frame. 

[Stay together]

Team JN_R appear in the middle of the screen, joining the group shot. 

[Hold our poses]

Qrow, Clover, and Ozbot appear on the right, completing the team. Ozbot is on the end, and he faces outward toward the edge of the frame while everyone else faces the center. 

[Old friends]

The old photo of Team STRQ is held in a left hand from behind the camera. Summer’s face is covered by the thumb. 

[New friends]

The camera spins 180 degrees to the right, and a new photograph comes into view, held in a right hand. It shows five women. 

In the center is a young zebra faunus with horizontally striped skin, wearing vertical and diagonal stripes on her clothes. To the left of her is a somewhat taller woman in a white hooded cloak concealing her face, except for a hint of pink-tinted glasses. To the right is a woman with short silver hair wearing a white lab coat. She has three parallel scars on her face. Both have one hand on the central girl’s shoulders. 

On the far left is a firefly faunus with wings and the long shell to cover them, dressed in gold, holding a greatsword with its tip in the sand. The blade is wide and rectangular, with a channel cut out of the middle. On the far right of the photo is a woman in an iridescent overcoat, mostly black but with shimmers of green, blue, and purple. Her hands show she has dark skin, but her face is obscured by the thumb of whoever is holding the photo. 

[True friends yours and mine]

The photo is consumed by green fire, started simultaneously in two spots near the center and then expanding outward. 

[Our broken hearts will guide us if there’s no clear path]

Qrow and Clover run through the streets of Vacuo, chasing a wisp of white disappearing around a corner. 

[We’re gonna make it through this]

Qrow fights the woman in the iridescent coat from the photo. She uses a one-handed sword made of black crystal, with one edge lined with ice dust. After a moment of fighting, zoom in on her face. Her eyes are golden yellow with no whites visible. She blinks, with her bottom eyelid coming upward instead of the top going down. The camera passes through her left pupil to show a new scene. 

[We’re gonna make it through this]

Clover fights the firefly faunus. She uses the same greatsword from the photo, but now the hollow channel is filled with air dust. The tip can be seen more clearly now: a rounded endcap with a spot of fire dust embedded in it. Clover slips inside her range and delivers a punch with his bare hand. Bright green overtakes the scene, growing from the point of impact, and when it covers the entire frame cut to the next scene. 

[We have to stick together, we have to make this last]

Zoom into Shade Academy through a window near the top of the pyramid, into the headmaster's office. A man who looks like Theodore Berzins, complete with wolf tail, turns around in his chair to face the camera. 

He has a metal helmet in his lap. It is shaped like a curved cone, wider as it goes up until the topmost circle is significantly wider than the man’s head. There is a ring sticking out lower down on the helmet as well. He scowls and places the helmet on his head. His eyes are completely covered and he has two cyan lenses in their place, one above the other. 

[We’re gonna make it through this]

A tall woman in a heavy coat that’s too big for her walks onscreen from the left. She carries a rocket launcher. 

[We’re gonna make it through this]

A woman in a chainmail crop top walks on from the right. She has long auburn hair and wears goggles on the top of her head. She carries two trident-like daggers. 

[Brief instrumental moment]

[History!]

A short flash of a scene from Volume 6 Episode 7: Young Maria Calavera facing down a nevermore. 

[Repeats itself!]

A short flash of a scene from Volume 3 Episode 12: Ruby standing atop Beacon Tower. 

[Over and over and over and over]

With each “over” a person appears on the screen, in four distinct columns from left to right. First is Maria, then Summer Rose, then Margulis, and finally Ruby on the right. 

[Brief instrumental moment]

Everyone scrolls to the left; Maria, Summer, and Margulis leave the frame but Ruby remains in the center, facing the camera. The background fills in with a room lined with bookshelves, with Ruby standing in front of a whiteboard. 

[History!]

The right half of the screen flashes dark green with a black silhouette of Ozbot. The green fades back to the library room, and Ozbot takes on full color standing there, facing toward Ruby. 

[Ancient history!]

The left half of the screen flashes fuchsia with a white silhouette of Salem. The pink fades back to the same room again, and Salem also takes on her normal colors, facing Ruby and Ozbot. 

[Brief instrumental moment]

Salem takes a step forward and holds out one hand, past Ruby. Ruby stays motionless. Ozbot does not move forward or bring up a hand of his own; instead merely looking down and away from the camera. 

[Not just another dusty book on the shelf]

The right side of the frame folds inward, as the last page of a book that is now closing. The book is bound in light gray leather. The camera zooms in on the blank back cover until it is pure gray. 

[Here we go!]

Three silhouettes appear on the gray background, one with each word. On the left is a white silhouette of the hooded woman from the photo. In the center is the zebra faunus, striped horizontally in white and black. On the right is a solid black silhouette of the woman in the iridescent overcoat. They overlap slightly with the zebra girl in front of the others, and her stripes blend seamlessly into the black and white of her neighbors. 

[Beware the enemy we know and the friend we don’t]

The three women turn around to face away from the camera, regaining their true colors as they do so. They shift lower in the frame, and above them two new silhouettes appear. 

Both are colored a deep red. They are two women with longish hair, facing a little away from each other but holding hands between them. Their shapes are perfect mirror images of each other. The one on the right holds a staff with a crook at the top, and a small object is affixed inside the crook. The one on the left has a bladed whip coiling in the air, with a larger spiked object at its end. 

[We’re gonna make this happen, what are we making happen

Through it all we’re at the end of our rope]

The camera slides backward as the two red silhouettes gain color, but they recede into the distance so quickly that not much can be seen of their faces or clothing. Members of Teams RWBY, JNPR, CFVY, and SSSN along with Qrow, Clover, and the firefly woman appear one by one around the others in quick succession, all also facing away from the camera. 

[What happens when we reach the end?]

Transition scenes by triangles rushing inward from both left and right until they join in the middle. Now the scene shows a medical office with many pictures of dogs and cats hung on the walls. 

Two identical copies of the silver-haired woman in the lab coat stand facing off against each other briefly, then begin to fight. Both carry a long staff with a crook at the top. One’s staff is patterned black and red metal, and has a vial of liquid affixed in the curve at the top of the staff. The other’s staff looks like wood, covered in a filigree pattern of white and green dust so that it looks like it was assembled from countless shards, and there is nothing at its top. The two staffs cross and strike each other in the center of the frame, and a shockwave blasts outward. 

[Brief instrumental moment]

[History!]

A short flash of a scene from Volume 3 Episode 11: Cinder in the vault below Beacon, hovering in the air with her eyes glowing orange. 

[Repeats itself!]

A short flash of a scene from Volume 5 Episode 13: Raven in the vault below Haven, with her eyes glowing pink. 

[Over and over and over and over]

With each “over” a person appears on the screen, in four distinct columns from left to right. First is Pyrrha (appearing as Jaune) with eyes glowing orange, then May Marigold with eyes glowing blue, then Raven with eyes glowing pink, and finally the zebra girl. Her eyes are closed and she looks down away from the camera. 

[Brief instrumental moment]

Pyrrha’s eyes flash pink and the flames go out, and then Jaune walks off the left side of the frame. May is surrounded by a brief glow of blue and then turns invisible. Raven transforms into a bird and flies away behind the camera. The last girl is left alone near the right side of the frame, looking around as if confused. 

[History!]

On a black background, green and gold gears turn. 

[Recent history!]

Overlaid on the gears are several long, dark pink kite shapes, like those from the bottom of Salem’s emblem. They turn over the gears like the hands of a clock. 

[Brief instrumental moment]

The clock accelerates until its hands cannot be distinguished in the blur. It becomes a solid circle of red, and the background changes to beige for the bottom quarter and blue above. 

[The clock is ticking downward]

The emblem of Vacuo, in gold, fades in over the red circle. The two half-swords on the sides fall away from the central one and crumble into sand which falls down to the flat beige stripe below. The central sword grows slightly larger and becomes more detailed, becoming the Relic of Destruction. As this happens, the background also becomes more detailed, turning into sand and sky with the sun near the horizon. 

[We’re moving ever forward]

Wind stirs the sand at the bottom and it swirls up to form the letters RWBY in dark brown over the sky and the top of the large red sun, with the words “Volume 8” just below. 

[We’re running out of time]

The Relic turns clockwise. Its tip raises off the ground and cuts through all four letters, which scatter back into sand. Behind it, the sun lowers and finally sets, and everything fades into black. 

The words “Series created by Monty Oum” appear in white for a moment, then fade away.

Chapter Text

“This is a really nice house,” Ruby remarks, looking around at the large common room. “Reminds me of the one in Mistral a little. Everything looks so different on the outside with all the white and yellow stone, but in here it’s just like home.”

“A little dusty, but it’ll do.” Qrow plops down on the end of one of the sofas. “When’s the last time you were here, Oz?”

“Personally, not for ten years, I’d say. I had operatives in the area, people working with Theo, but it seems they haven’t been using this place.” Left unspoken is the condition everyone knows, if any of them are still alive.  

Ruby glances back toward the bedroom where the rest of her team are unpacking, but none of them have come out yet. “So now that we’re here, what’s the plan?”

“We should visit Shade Academy,” Jaune declares. At least, probably Jaune. It’s possible to tell him and Pyrrha apart by diction alone, but being able to see body language helps a lot more. Ruby turns to see him standing behind her, and pats the seat next to her. 

“I’m curious to see what has become of it,” Ozbot says. “If Theo was replaced by an impostor years ago…”

“We’ll be careful.” Ruby looks around at her friends. Nora and Ren have taken a spot further down the couch, to Jaune’s other side. “We know Teams CFVY and SSSN both transferred here. I’m sure we all want to see our friends again, and if we run into magical trouble, they’re some people we can trust.”

“I doubt they know anything about magic,” Ren points out, “but we can read them in. We may not have a Relic on us anymore, but we have a Maiden who can prove magic exists.”

“As well as the bird here,” Clover says while standing behind Qrow’s seat and ruffling his hair. 

“Hey, you stop that!” Qrow protests, but Ruby can see he’s smiling as he cranes his neck back to look at Clover. 

Suddenly Nora stands up from the sofa. “Does anyone else smell cookies?” She wanders around the room, sniffing at the air. 

A knock comes at the front door and Nora freezes. Ruby splits into two bunches of rose petals to fly around Jaune and Ren and she recombines near the window, one hand resting on her weapon. Ozbot stands, but makes no movement. 

Finally it’s Nora and Clover who answer the door, opening it onto an empty front stoop. Empty, at least, of people. There are three plates resting on the ground in front of the door, piled high with twenty cookies each and wrapped loosely in plastic to keep them fresh. 

“Ha! I was right!” Nora prances back into the living room with two of the plates, and Clover follows behind. She sets one plate down on the low central table, and before anyone can call out a warning, stuffs a whole cookie into her mouth. “Mmmm, these’re good!” she mumbles, and stuffs in another almost before swallowing the first. 

“Nora, stop!” Ren’s warning comes too late. “We don’t know where these came from. Ruby, did you see anyone out there?”

“No… Might have been a glimpse of a white cape? But they disappeared so fast, I couldn’t tell.”

The rest of her team finally wanders out of their bedroom to see what the commotion is about. For some reason, Weiss is wearing Yang’s jacket, even though it’s warm enough here that none of them really needs it. Blake is holding both their hands. 

“Hey, who made cookies?” Yang breaks away from the others to examine the plates, and gets her hand slapped by Ozbot’s cane as she reaches to take one. 

Ozbot stares at the cookies as if doing so will somehow tell him who baked them. “Well, she’s not dead yet,” he says, glancing at Nora. “So we can rule out fast-acting poisons, at least.”

Nora eats another cookie. “If you guys don’t want any, that’s fine with me. And if they are poisoned…” She shrugs. “What better way to go out than with the best cookies I’ve ever had?”

“She’s got a point.” Yang takes a cookie as well. “Oh, wow, you’re not kidding about these being good! I think this anonymous Vacuo baker might finally dethrone mom.”

Cookies disappear quickly after that as everyone wants to try them. Even Qrow enjoys a few, encouraged by Clover’s presence to the point that he barely even thinks of the havoc his semblance could cause. Only Oz refrains entirely – though even if he wanted any, his robot body would be unable to eat them. 

“There’s something under here…” Blake shifts a few cookies around and pulls out an envelope from beneath the stack. She opens it and removes a single sheet of paper, and stares at it with narrowed eyes. “It’s safe. Turn on the radio,” she narrates. “That’s all it says.”

“It’s safe? You’d think they’d put that on top of the gift, not under it.” Jaune holds out a hand and Blake passes him the letter. “Oh. That’s not talking about the cookies.”

He steps around to show the paper to Ozbot. At the top of the page is a pencil drawing of an ornate sword, with the words “It’s safe” written in a flowing cursive script just beneath it. The odd request to listen to the radio is farther down the page. 

“This is the Relic of Destruction,” Ozbot says. “Whoever drew this has seen it. There aren’t many people that could be.”

“Look at the signature.” Jaune points to the bottom corner. 

“A dash to indicate the author’s name, and then a drawing of flaming eyes.” Oz hands the letter back. “Whoever sent this either is, or wants us to believe they are, the Summer Maiden. They want us to trust them before we even meet, and I cannot stress enough what a bad idea it would be to do so.”

“And they said to turn on the radio?” Weiss wonders aloud. There is a small radio on a table in the corner of the room and she moves over to it. “No instructions about what station? I don’t even know what’s around here.”

She flips the radio on and there are a few seconds of music, and then as if on cue, the program fades out and is replaced by the sound of a single woman speaking. 

“Legends. Stories scattered through time. Each life a tale of us the hero, someone else the monster. So easily we forget that dust we are, and this world the wind. It’s an unforgivin’ place out there. I see people flockin’ in for shelter every day, but take heed… sometimes the sun’s better than the shade. Old friends, new strangers, who’s to say you can’t be both? There may be no victory in strength, but that don’t mean we can’t stick together. Huddle in close now, and don’t let the light go out! 

“All you driftin’ souls, called home to these shiftin’ sands, I know you’ve got your share of troubles. Don’t I know it. But y’all are strong, wise, and resourceful! Don’t you give up! Hope’s not just a spark, it’s a fire in our eyes. Remember what I always say: Over Zero Percent Is ‘Nough. Long as y’all’re tryin’, that’s the key. Whether we fight with our heads held high, or set down our sword and bury it, one way or another this world is ours. Let the dust take command of the wind for once! 

“That’s all I got to say for now. To all you strangers, welcome! Let us light our way through the darkness together. You’re listenin’ to Nightwave.”

The radio fades back into the station it had been on before, and Weiss clicks the power off. “That wasn’t a normal radio station,” she says. “That was a message. To us. ”

Yang nods. “Hope is a fire in our eyes? Right after we get a note signed with flaming eyes? Do you suppose that was the Summer Maiden talking?”

“I’m more concerned someone knows we’re here,” Qrow points out. “We’ve only been in this kingdom a few hours, and we’ve already gotten a delivery and now this.”

“Well, they seem friendly enough, at least.” Ruby tries to stay positive, but she also feels the slight apprehension the rest of the group shares. “Whoever these people are, they clearly know about magic. Even the Relic here. That woman on the radio mentioned a buried sword.”

“That wasn’t the only message,” Ren says quietly. “Every word of that was chosen carefully. She warned us against shade, and we know the academy is compromised. And even that wasn’t all.”

Everyone listens with bated breath, each silently racking their brains to recall the exact wording the mysterious woman had used to see what other clues could be gleaned from it. 

“That motto she used,” Ren continues. “Over zero percent is enough. That sounded odd to me. It stood out like something I wasn’t quite getting, but I’ve got it now. She didn’t pronounce the E in enough. Mixed in with the rest of her accent it sounds natural, but right there … Those five words become an acronym that spells out Ozpin.”

His friends stare at him in astonishment. “Wow,” Yang remarks. “That one definitely went over my head. Good job, Ren.”

“So she knows who I am.” Ozbot sounds even more suspicious than he already was. 

“She knows who this house belongs to, at least.” Qrow points out a potential loophole. “We know someone’s spying on us, but you’re not in the same body you had last time you visited Vacuo. For all we know, they could think I’m the new Oz.”

“Or me,” Clover supplies. “I’m the one wearing green.”

Jaune nods, and takes a cookie as he sits back down. “True. But I’m with Ruby, these people seem friendly. And the radio woman said we were listening to Nightwave, like that was the name of a station. I have a feeling we’ll be hearing from her again.”

Ozbot bangs his cane on the floor with a loud thud. “Do not mistake a message for the truth solely because it was encrypted,” he intones. “The best lie is one the victim has to work for, because they assume that effort must lead to a reward. The best trap is one the prey wants to enter.”

Yang snorts. “You would know, wouldn’t you?”

Oz glares at her, but does not respond. 

“We’ll be on our guard,” Ruby says, “but I won’t turn down allies, if that’s what they are. We did come here to find the Summer Maiden and protect her. It seems like this Nightwave person knows her, and that’s the only direction we have so far.”

“Is this what we can expect from every broadcast?” Weiss asks. “This kind of cryptic code?”

“I would expect so,” Ren answers. 

“I hope they come with cookies every time too!” Nora sits with a plate on her lap, already almost emptied of its stack. “You guys can handle the riddles. Leave this part to me.”

The heavy wooden doors of the Shade Headmaster’s office open with a creak. Qrow pushes one side with his shoulder, Clover does the same with the other, and between them three young huntsmen and huntresses enter the topmost room of Shade Academy. It’s almost square, with only a small segment divided off one side for the elevator and a waiting area; the rest of this step of the pyramid is a single open space. In the ceiling a smaller square is cut out, off center relative to the inside walls, where the very peak of this sandstone ziggurat opens with four glassless windows to let in the sun. 

Headmaster Theodore Berzins’s desk sits near the far wall from the door, and a man who is not Theodore Berzins gets up from his seat to greet his visitors. He looks very much like Biz, the true Headmaster who now resides in Atlas, but as someone who spent a good deal of time around the original, Nora can tell at once his face is not exactly right. He does have a wolf tail but it hangs limply from the back of his pants, more likely a prop than a real faunus trait. 

“Welcome,” the false Headmaster greets the group. “I’m glad you could come right away. New huntsmen are always welcome in the Kingdom of Vacuo.”

Clover shuts the double doors behind them, and takes Ozbot’s cane off his belt and extends it. He steps up to the front and shakes the impostor’s hand with a smile. “Thank you, Theo. It’s been too long. I’m afraid I have a different body from the one you’re familiar with, but then again, I suppose this isn’t the first of my reincarnations that you’ve witnessed.”

Not-Theo’s eyes widen. “Ozpin?”

He’s scared, Nora notices at once. This isn’t the meeting he planned for, after his brief phone call with Qrow earlier. A team of huntsmen who just arrived in the kingdom and are looking for guidance, that’s what this man expected. Not a pop quiz on his knowledge of a person his real self knew well. 

Everyone settles down in a circle of chairs at one side of the large office. Not-Biz offers them all a glass of water, though whether this is because he thinks her team is underage or whether it’s simply a desert custom, Nora can’t tell. She takes this moment to try to remember what the real Biz had called this fake Headmaster. He’s not Biz, he’s not Theodore Berzins… wait. The. Business. Theo Berzins. 

This is far more embarrassing than her “Qrow? Raven? They’re birds!” moment at Haven, purely because of the sheer length of time she’d failed to realize the connection, and here she can’t even say anything aloud to tell people she finally got it. In her head she could nickname him faker, impostor, human in wolf’s clothing… But they’ll have to address him by his stolen name, even though his real one is… what was it… Teshin! 

“What brings you here, old friend?” Teshin asks Clover, who still has the borrowed cane extended and resting across his lap. “Is there news from Beacon I should be aware of?”

Clover shakes his head solemnly. “As far as I know, Beacon remains closed. I have not been back since my death there, as urgent matters have required my attention elsewhere. Surely you’ve heard of the attack on Haven Academy last year? There was trouble in Atlas as well. You know the kind I mean.”

“You think Salem is coming here?” Now Teshin looks even more scared. Wasn’t this guy supposed to be one of Salem’s agents? “Wait. I’m sorry. Do these students… know?”

“They know everything we do,” Qrow tells him. “Meet Jaune Arc, Nora Valkyrie, and Lie Ren. Former Beacon students who finished their studies at Atlas. Given what’s been going on, we needed a team we could trust. This is it.” He gives no mention of the other whole team who arrived with them. 

“A team… of three?”

“Pyrrha Nikos died in the Fall of Beacon,” Clover answers smoothly. The real Headmaster might need to know that she’s alive again, cohabitating in Jaune’s body, but Teshin here gets only the minimum. He’s certainly not finding out Pyrrha is the current Fall Maiden. 

“My condolences. We received a number of teams transferring here after the Fall. They have done well at Shade.”

“I’m sure they have.” Clover smiles. “Shade has won many Vytal Festival tournaments under your guidance. That alone is testament to your students’ skill.”

Finally Teshin seems to relax a little. “Let the arena be your teacher and I its humble guide, for true mastery is found only in the face of the ultimate enemy: yourself. I prepare my students well for the horrors that lie beyond our kingdom’s borders.”

“I hope they’re prepared for one of those horrors to come within the borders,” Qrow says. “Is the sword well guarded?”

“It remains locked in the vault,” Teshin answers. “The Summer Maiden is in the kingdom. But in times of war, knowledge is the brightest blade. What happened at Haven?”

“The Spring Maiden is not our friend,” Qrow practically growls. 

“But the Relic did end up in our possession,” Ren adds. “We don’t carry it on us for security reasons, but we do know where it is now.” The real Ozpin would be proud of that misleading truth, if he were here. What a calm and diplomatic way of saying Salem has it now.

“That is welcome news for once.” Teshin smiles. 

“I’m afraid we don’t know much about the current Summer Maiden,” Clover says. “The one I knew died along with the agent I had protecting her. I know you sent me a letter when you found her successor, but I would like to meet her myself. Xuri, I believe it was?”

“That… may be difficult.” Teshin’s eyebrows lower. “She is well protected, but her group keeps well away from Shade, and therefore from me. For security, I’m sure you understand. They never inform me of their movements, so that the information cannot be taken from me by force. Instead, we have a common liaison in someone I hope would be below Her Grace’s notice. Junior faculty Jade Goldwing, hired on just this past year after a short but impressive huntress record.”

“Thank you, Theo. We’ll begin with her.”

“If you do find the Summer Maiden, I would like to speak with her as well. If Shade truly is to be targeted by her , we should be making contingency plans in case Summer or the sword is needed. I am kept quite busy with my work, but if you could send her my way…”

“You’ll be first on our minds when we find her,” Ren says. Wow, this team is good at giving encouraging words while actually saying very little of substance. It’s almost as if they’d been traveling alongside a master of the art for over a year. The lying is a little distasteful, but it’s not like hiding things from General Ironwood. This time, the Headmaster is already their enemy from the start. 

Clover gives his best charming smile, and stands up. “Thank you for the warm welcome and for all your help. We’ll be in touch.” He offers a hand and Teshin shakes it firmly, and then Clover leads the team away. 

While Team JNPR and the two designated uncles of the group handle the important business of meeting with friends and enemies at Shade, Team RWBY are on another mission entirely. A mission of the utmost importance, to assist the entire group in adapting to Vacuo and all that comes with being here. 

It’s time to go shopping for new outfits. 

Their heavy jackets from Atlas, after all, aren’t particularly necessary here in the blazing desert, and all four girls have been getting increasingly uncomfortable the longer they’re here. 

But here in what they’d thought was one of the central marketplaces of Vacuo city, there seems to be nothing of the clothing sort around. They don’t dare split up to search a wider area, not in this maze of stalls, but so far all they’ve seen a lot of here is food, art, and weapons. All good things, but not exactly the goal today. 

Yang leads the team around a corner, only to run headlong into a woman in a white cloak. The woman drops one of the bags she’s carrying, and Yang leans down to pick it up as she apologizes. 

“Sorry! Here you go.” But before they go their separate ways again, Yang has an idea. “Hey, we’re new in Vacuo. Would you happen to know where we could get some proper desert clothes?”

“Of course!” The woman pushes back the hood of her cloak, revealing blue eyes and short, metallic silver hair, and she gratefully accepts the bag of dry cat food Yang hands her. “You kids look like huntresses. Reminds me of some of my friends. You’ll want Opalescent Boutique, they do custom jobs for anything. Get something you can fight in. It’s just that way.”

“Thanks!” Yang looks briefly to her team, then they all head off together in the direction the woman indicated. 

For a minute it’s hard to believe there really is a clothing shop at all on this dusty street. But then, practically out of nowhere as they pass the end of the row of stalls, a storefront clearly reads Opalescent Boutique in purple script on a background of white. 

It’s more spacious inside than it looked from the street, and brightly lit. “Welcome!” calls a woman in white from behind the main counter, and she hurries out to meet the team, tape measure in hand. “What can I do for four young ladies like yourselves? Oh my, those coats look awfully heavy and warm, clearly this is an emergency! Let’s get you into something a little lighter.”

Before anyone can even speak, she’s already measuring everyone head to toe and muttering to herself. Yang first, then Ruby, and partway through examining Weiss she jumps back and straightens up to face them all again. “Oh! Dearie me, how could I be so rude? My name is Violet Belle. You?”

The name suits her well, with her elegant curls of purple hair. Team RWBY introduce themselves one by one, and when they’re done Violet gets right back to her work. She scribbles furiously on a tiny notepad, and then calls back toward another room in the shop. “Angel, dear, we have customers!”

A second woman comes out of the back room, this one dressed in pale yellow with straight waist-length pink hair, carrying a huge roll of paper under one arm. She waves shyly, and sets the paper down on the floor before rolling it out across the room and looking to Ruby. “Hello there. What can we make for you today?”

“Um, well…” Ruby fidgets with her cape. “We all just came from Atlas and we need some better fighting outfits for the desert.”

“From Atlas?” Violet exclaims. “Oh, I’ve always wanted to go, but then with the dreadful business in Vale and the closed borders and all… wait, how did you cross the border?”

“The kingdom is reopening,” Weiss says simply. “You’ll be able to visit soon.”

As Violet practically swoons at the news, Ruby focuses on the seamstress’s partner with a description of her desired new outfit. “I’m keeping the red hooded cape no matter what,” she begins. “Probably a knee-length skirt, no leggings – what do you think, Weiss? Team combat skirts? And then…”

She trails off as Angel pulls out a pencil and begins drawing on the wide roll of paper, glancing every now and then at the sheet of measurements Violet had given her. Angel motions for Ruby to continue, already kneeling atop a well-proportioned sketch of a cape and skirt. 

“Whatever top I wear, I want it open between the shoulderblades to show my emblem… wait. Would it look weird to have a hole in the cape?” None of Ruby’s friends can offer more than a shrug. “I’ll need a belt and some pouches for my dust bullets. Maybe a single glove for the right hand? The top, though… ooh, what about something like your old look, Blake, with the diagonal straps? But no jacket.”

With nothing but vague words and a few gestures at her collarbone, Ruby somehow conveys enough information for Angel to draw up a remarkably accurate full size image of the outfit in her mind. 

“Does that look good?” At Ruby’s stunned nod, Angel rolls out a new section of paper and moves on to Weiss. 

“I’d like a short dress in white, with the interior being red,” Weiss says. “Do you think I’d be too hot if I kept long sleeves?”

“Weiss, you’re hot in anything,” Yang comments, and grins as her teammate’s face flushes pink. 

“Something simple,” Weiss directs, tracing her fingers over the several angled belts that currently wrap her waist. “Shorts under the dress. Wide straps over the shoulders, but I suppose I could go sleeveless. And maybe only one belt this time.”

“I’ll take a top like Ruby’s,” Blake jumps in the moment Weiss is finished. “Honestly, what I wore in Menagerie is going to be good for Vacuo as well. Unlike Ruby, though, I wear pants.”

“Oh, please, we all know who wears the pants in that relationship. Between you and Ruby…” Yang shakes her head solemnly. “It’s Weiss.”

Weiss raises one eyebrow at her. “Me, between Blake and Ruby? Sounds good to me.” 

The delicate sounds of Violet clearing her throat brings the team’s attention back to the task at hand, and Yang dictates instructions for shorts and a tank top, with long boots that have pockets on the side for dust. 

“All done?” Violet looks down at the four life size drawings on the floor and frowns. “Yes, okay… I can work with this. Let’s just add…” She takes Angel’s pencil and scribbles a few accessories onto the designs, then brings out a small box of colored pencils and marks each major section. “That should do nicely. Soon you four will be the most glamorous huntresses in all of Vacuo!”

Both the shop owners disappear into the back room, and come out with arms full of bolts of cloth in all the team’s colors. Another trip brings out a few solid ingots of metal, and then a whole basket full of spools of thread. 

“Stand back now!” Violet shoos the four girls away from the pile of raw materials, and picks up her partner’s drawing of Ruby. “It’s time to let the magic – er, semblance – happen!”

Pale blue aura shines around her body, and she holds out her arms to either side with one hand over the cloth and the other still gripping the paper. She closes her eyes, and just in front of her the space itself seems to distort, twisting inward from all directions. Red cloth ripples and unrolls, while from the other side the very pencil marks themselves seem to lift from the paper and stretch inward to meet the fabric. 

Light flares from the central region, brighter and brighter until everyone is forced to look away before the final burst. But when they blink and recover, Angel holds a perfect rendition of Ruby’s new desert clothes. Meanwhile, Violet leans heavily on the counter beside her, and lets a now blank sheet of paper flutter to the floor again. 

“Wow.” None of the four girls can offer any comment beyond simple admiration. “That’s pretty impressive.”

Violet picks herself up and puts an arm around Angel. “Don’t we make just the perfect team, darling?”

“Of course we do.” Angel explains to the wide-eyed young huntresses, “Give her a blueprint and all the materials, and she can assemble anything. And my semblance makes me good at drawing things perfectly to scale.” 

“There’s a changing room right back there,” Violet says, already shoving the pile of clothing into Ruby’s arms. “Now, who’s next?”

“If we’re going to catch a professor here, we’ll have to wait,” Qrow grumbles. “Goldwing’s probably in class at this time of day. I’m going to scout around the city. Clover, you in?”

“Of course. I’ll get the cane back to Oz eventually. You kids can stay here if you like, familiarize yourself with the Academy. It can’t hurt, even if you aren’t students anymore.”

“Got it,” Jaune says. “We’ve got some friends to find here anyway. Good luck out there.”

“Don’t need it.” Clover winks, then takes Qrow’s arm to lead him away. 

“Alright.” Jaune turns to his team. “CFVY or SSSN?”

“I believe I have Velvet’s number,” Ren says. “We may need Team RWBY to contact our other friends here. They were always closer with Sun’s group than we were.”

He pulls out his scroll and dials, and the line rings for a long time before the other end is finally picked up. “Ren?” 

Velvet is tired. It’s obvious in her voice, and if he listens carefully, Ren can even pick up hints of heavy breathing from the other end. “Velvet! It’s good to speak with you again. My team has just arrived at Shade and we were wondering if we could catch up sometime.”

“Oh! Yes, of course!” A slightly muffled sound of the words “Team JNPR is here!” comes through before Velvet takes her hand off the scroll again. “Let’s meet up after… or… okay, you’re at Shade now, right? Come to Room 204b. Sorry, got to go for now!”

His scroll goes dead and Ren pockets it, and sets off in a random direction until coming to a posted map of the building. Thankfully, it’s hard to get very lost in a giant square. 

“Here we are!” Jaune pushes open the door and halts a step into the room, leading Nora to run into him from behind. 

The room is much like the arena style classrooms at Beacon, where Professor Goodwitch among others supervised teams and individuals in live combat. Jaune doesn’t have a lot of fond memories of those rooms. Mostly they involve him getting beaten up by other students, notably Cardin Winchester who always chose Jaune as a sparring partner over anyone else. 

This room has the same arena, but much fewer seats for a class waiting their turns. Up on the stage now are two members of Team CFVY: the quick and agile Fox, dueling the larger Yatsuhashi. Coco and Velvet sit below. To the side of the stage stands a woman in what appears to be a solid plastic or metal overcoat covering her back with a solid shell, otherwise dressed in a rather skimpy gold outfit. She looks up at the open door and beckons the new team inward, then takes a running leap off the stage leaving her wide greatsword behind. 

The shell across her back splits in half and lifts, and suddenly Jaune realizes it’s not a piece of clothing at all. It’s a set of beetle wings, letting this woman hover and slowly drift forward over the few rows of seats to touch down in the central aisle in front of him. 

“Hello there! Team JNPR from Beacon, I’m told? Come on in. Some fresh blood for our sparring session is just what we need!”

“Yes, um. I’m Jaune, this is Nora and Ren. We knew Team CFVY at Beacon. I… didn’t realize we were being invited to an ongoing class.”

“Professor Jade Goldwing.” She points first to her clothing, then over her shoulder. “As you can see. Gold. Wing.” She turns back toward the stage, leaving Jaune’s offered hand hanging in the air. 

“That’s her?” Jaune whispers to his team as they follow. “I don’t suppose Clover had a hand in this luck?”

“Doubtful,” Ren whispers back. “Even a luck semblance can’t change a schedule set months ago. And if you think about it, he’s gotten unlucky by leaving just before we found her.”

“Hey guys!” Coco stands up from the front row of seats, Velvet not far behind. “Long time no see! What brings you to Vacuo?”

Jaune hesitates. What does bring them to Vacuo? They’re not transfer students to Shade. And they can’t exactly say they’re on a–

“Secret mission from Professor Ozpin,” Nora casually remarks. 

“…Didn’t he die?”

Jaune sighs, and gives a quick glance back at Nora before answering. “Yeah, he did.” He takes a moment to consider his next words carefully. “We’re looking for someone,” he says finally. “Actually, Professor, the Headmaster said you might be able to help us. Lucky finding you right here with our friends. So, there’s four particular young women…”

“Don’t believe everything the Headmaster says,” Jade interrupts him. “We can talk privately later. You must understand, no team working for Ozpin has been to Vacuo in years. The locals are understandably wary.” Suddenly her tone shifts back to the cheerful professor who had greeted them. “Now! You three look like students. Why don’t you show me and your friends what you’ve learned since Beacon.”

“Um, about that…” Together the members of Team JNPR reach into their pockets and display their scrolls, each showing a genuine huntsman license. “We’re not students.”

Immediately Coco, Velvet, and Yatsu crowd around them to see. “You graduated already?” Velvet asks. “But you were a year behind us?”

“We’re in our fourth year now,” Coco adds. “That would put you in your third. How’d you get these? And from Atlas , of all places?”

“After the Fall of Beacon,” Ren begins, “we didn’t transfer to another Academy. We had information that suggested the people behind it were targeting Haven next, so we went there with Team RWBY. It turned out our suspicions were correct. After that we went to Atlas to help General Ironwood. He was a friend of Ozpin and welcomed our help, and he promoted us all. There was another attack there and the General did not survive. Now we’ve come to protect Shade.”

“That’s the short version,” Jaune confirms. 

“You can catch up later!” Jade leaps back up to the stage. “We’re still in fourth-year sparring seminar for another half hour. How about a team battle? It’s four against three, but I can join the newbies myself if it looks uneven.”

“Sounds fun,” Coco says. “You guys are huntsmen now. I want to see how you’ve improved. Especially you, Jaune.”

Jaune opens his mouth to say something in response, but then stops and glances slightly to his right at the empty air. He pauses a moment, then looks back with a smile. “I have a better idea,” he says. “I’ll fight you all. Four against one. You want to see what I can do now, I’ll show you.”

He shrugs the shield off his back and pretends to scratch an itch on his forehead, conveniently covering his face while his eyes flash with pale pink light. And then Jaune is no longer in control of his body, merely watching from the back of his mind as Pyrrha hands his sword to Ren and draws her own spear instead. A shake of the shield transforms it from Jaune’s kite to the dimpled round shape Pyrrha prefers, more evenly balanced, a weapon for throwing as well as a bulwark for defense. 

“Hey, isn’t that Pyrrha’s spear? You learned to use it yourself?”

Pyrrha nods. “It seemed fitting after she died. Pyrrha left me many training videos that I used to get better. In a way, it’s almost like she’s still with us.” If Jaune is laughing at her words from inside, none of it reaches her face. 

Pyrrha takes her place at one end of the arena and Team CFVY line up across from her, while Jade, Nora, and Ren take seats. Pyrrha bows, and on the other side of the stage Fox does the same before stepping out in front of his team. 

Without another word, both run forward to engage each other in battle. Fox uses a combination of forward punches and whirling strikes with his backward-facing arm blades, most glancing off Pyrrha’s shield or turned away by a strike of her spear. Only the surprise blast of a shotgun from the front of one tonfa pushes Pyrrha back, and even then only for a moment. Further punches get pushed off course ever so slightly by her semblance and Fox is forced to rotate his blades forward instead. 

Velvet runs up and joins the fight with a series of high kicks, and Pyrrha intentionally places herself between her opponents. The moment Fox goes for another forward punch, she drops flat on her back and uses her semblance to pull the trigger on his weapon for him. Velvet goes flying back and Fox freezes momentarily in shock, while Pyrrha pushes herself backward and flips on her hands, pulling her spear and shield back with magnetism as she regains her feet. 

Finally Coco and Yatsuhashi realize this new “Jaune” is not the pushover they had anticipated, and split up to circle around Pyrrha’s other side. Pyrrha throws her shield and Coco bats it away with her heavy handbag, and it arcs gracefully through the air to make a pass at Velvet instead. A pair of hard-light tonfas appear in Velvet’s arms, perfectly mimicking Fox’s weapons, and blocks the shield. Pyrrha opts to run and grab it rather than pulling it into her hand again with her semblance. 

Velvet’s tonfas disappear and she replaces them with a curved greatsword, and she and Yatsu launch a combined attack from both sides, sweeping over a huge area around Pyrrha with powerful mirrored strikes. Pyrrha reaches out with her semblance but Velvet’s spectral copy cannot be moved like Yatsu’s original, so she is forced to manipulate only the truly metal sword, angling it downward just enough that she can jump and fit sideways between the swinging blades. 

Pyrrha takes the momentum of her landing and channels it into a spin, throwing her shield out again toward Fox’s legs. Behind her Coco unfolds her minigun, and Pyrrha jumps toward Yatsuhashi and wedges her spear behind his sword to pull herself even higher and flip over his shoulder. Keeping him between Coco and herself buys her the few seconds she needs to recover her shield again. 

But blocking a steady stream of bullets limits her ability to fight the three others coming at her. Her spear can handle Fox, her agility while holding the shield with magnetism alone can avoid Yatsu, but Velvet is a wildcard. 

Velvet knows she’s a wildcard. And she has an endless supply of pictures of her teammates, so she might as well use as many as she needs to. A hard-light minigun materializes in her hands and she trains it on Pyrrha, thinking there’s no way two streams of bullets can be blocked with one shield. 

Pyrrha sends a quick call within as a thought, and then Jaune’s semblance infuses her aura with new strength. She gains a shifting glow over her entire body, rippling white and red at the same time, and amplified Polarity easily catches Coco’s metal bullets and throws every one off course toward Yatsu instead. Pyrrha’s shield then is free to block Velvet’s stream without consequence. 

Pyrrha stows her spear across her back. There’s no need to hide her semblance around friends and only use it for slight adjustments, even if these friends currently think she’s someone else. Might as well take full advantage of the boost. She throws out her empty hand toward Fox and grasps his arm-mounted blades with her magnetism, and throws him against the back wall of the arena. 

Yatsu’s sword is next, wrenched from his grip and swung at Coco. He runs to retrieve it and Pyrrha’s shield flies down to trip him before swinging back to block an assault from Velvet. Another sweep of Pyrrha’s hand knocks Fox to his hands and knees just after he had picked himself up the first time. Quiet murmurs arise from the audience of three, but she pays them no mind. 

Velvet conjures a new copy of Fox’s tonfas and charges into close range. Pyrrha grabs her spear again to fight her, trying to manifest magnetism without either hand as a guide to keep the others at bay. It works, but not nearly as well as she can normally do it. Yatsu comes at her again and she turns for just a second to shove him away, and Velvet takes her opening. In an instant the pair of short blades are replaced with a copy of the greatsword again, scoring her team’s first serious hit of the match directly into Pyrrha’s stomach. 

Pyrrha flies back, sheathing her spear again and manipulating it on her own back to control her body’s movement in the air. She reorients herself with her feet pointing downward, but never quite touches the ground again. She hovers a foot off the stage, eyes aflame with orange, arms held out wide in a display of power. Streaks of fire and light swirl in arcs around her body, and Team CFVY pause to stare in awe. 

Pyrrha holds out her hand toward her four opponents and fire sprays from her palm. Yatsu and Velvet leap to the front to shield their teammates with the flats of their greatswords, but they can’t block everything. The fire dissipates and a bolt of lightning tosses Yatsu back into Coco behind him as Pyrrha drifts forward with a spherical shell of energy surrounding her. 

Professor Goldwing jumps up from her seat in the audience. A single wing-powered leap takes her up onto the stage between Pyrrha and the students fighting her and she whips out a pocketknife from somewhere in her distressingly revealing clothing. The blade flicks open and she spins it around in her hand to point inward. 

“That’s enough!” she calls out as she stabs the blade into her own stomach. Blindingly bright green light flashes through the classroom to reinforce her order, and Pyrrha drops from the air, flaming eyes and mixed-color aura both fading out. 

“There’s no need to kill them,” Jade accuses. “You’ve made your point. How are they supposed to fight you when they don’t even know what you are?”

“Sorry. I suppose I got a little carried away.” Pyrrha places her shield across her back. “But you know, don’t you?”

Jade puts away her knife. “ Fall. What I don’t know is how. You shouldn’t be eligible.”

“You’re right, Jaune Arc would not be eligible. Let me introduce myself properly.” Pyrrha holds out a hand. “My name is Pyrrha Nikos. Team Juniper’s lost member, returned from the dead. I am Fall, and my teammates and I would like very much if you could take us to Summer.”

From the ground, the city of Vacuo is a horrible tangle of streets that never lead where you think they will. From a bird’s eye view, it’s even worse. There are a few main thoroughfares that lead in straight lines, but none are even remotely aligned with one another and their endpoints are, in at least half of cases, perfectly normal buildings with no significance whatsoever. 

This is what happens when you have a city designed by tired and greedy dust-rushers three hundred years ago. The first people settled this oasis and built their homes wherever they liked, and roads sprang up on the shortest routes between them and the natural resources they had come for. Now, after dust and water both have long since run dry, that legacy still remains, getting in the way of everyone who’s lived here since. 

Qrow makes one more slow circle in the air, and then drops down into a deserted alley not far from Clover to transform back. He emerges and claps Clover on the shoulder, and points. 

“Think I saw our mark one street over. You know Ruby’s hooded cloak? She’s in one of those, but white. Striped skin, striped clothes, but only visible from head on.” 

“Sounds like our Maiden. Lead the way.” 

The next street over, a figure in a white cloak is clearly visible at one of the many market stalls lining both sides of the wide road. She has a scroll in one hand, holding it out with the screen active even as she speaks to the stall owner. She says something and completes her transaction in a hurry, and glances at Qrow and Clover as she turns to leave. 

One glance is all she needs, apparently. Her scroll is closed and pocketed in an instant, and in a swirl of white she takes off running. 

“Shit,” Qrow says emphatically. “Follow her on the ground, I’ll go bird?”

Clover nods and goes too. Qrow ducks away from the main road, slips into another alleyway not unlike the last one, and soars up. He spreads his wings, beats them once, twice, then catches sight of the too familiar white hood. Clover’s easy to see from the air too, and he’s catching up. Qrow watches a little longer anyway.

He blinks, and, suddenly, the Maiden’s gone. Clover skids to a stop in the streets below, looking around even as Qrow does the same from the skies.

The bird’s eye view helps quite a lot, as it turns out, because that same white hood is suddenly back in front of the stall. Its wearer gives a hurried wave to the stall owner and dashes off in the opposite direction. Must be a teleportation semblance of some kind. Useful, Qrow’ll give her that, and if he was still on the ground it might have fooled him.

Lacking hands to currently operate a scroll, never mind having access to the scroll itself at the moment, Qrow caws loudly and flies after her. The Maiden takes a path that’s quite possibly more confusing than the actual street layout, finally slowing to a stop in front of an inconspicuous building at the end of a deserted road.

Qrow dives, transforms back, and pulls out his scroll. As it rings, he glances at a nearby street sign and mentally notes the name. He risks a glance out at the building, catches a glimpse of a white cloak and then the door shutting after it. It swings inwards and back out with a creak.

“Any luck?” Clover asks.

“Actually, yeah. There’s a tiny building at the west end of Adler Point. Black shingled roof, brown bricks, and I’m pretty sure she thinks she lost us because she didn’t lock the door behind her. I’m going in, don’t be long.”

“Be careful.”

“What, I’m not always?” Qrow remembers that this is a voice-only call before he can wink, settles for adding, “See you soon.”

He hangs up, and, without further ado, heads for the door. It’s not locked, and it’s much darker inside than it is in the waning Vacuan sunlight. It takes a few moments for his eyes to adjust, considering that there’s thick blackout curtains over the windows and the only lighting within is a single candle. Once he does adjust, he’s aware of two reasonably important things.

One, there’s a back door, and it’s still open.

Two, there is someone else entirely in here, someone seated in a patterned armchair between him and the back door. Whoever she is, she regards Qrow with her arms crossed and a hard to read expression on her face. She’s wearing a dark-colored overcoat, although Qrow can’t make out the exact colors in this dim lighting, and even darker sunglasses.

“Uh, hi,” Qrow says. It’s just occurred to him that maybe barging into someone’s house, because that’s what this looks like, wasn’t the smartest idea on his part.

Behind the sunglasses, an eyebrow quirks up. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah. I’m a huntsman.” Qrow fumbles for his license, pulls it out, shows it to her because honestly there’s quite a few people running around claiming to be huntsmen that aren’t these days. “I’m looking for a girl I think came this way? Zebra faunus, stripes, lots of black and white going on? I think her name’s Xuri?”

“Is that so.” The woman doesn’t seem particularly impressed. “Just so happens, I’m a huntress.”

She pats the weapon leaning up against her armchair appreciatively. It’s a sword of some kind, smaller than Harbinger, and mostly made of a dark material Qrow doesn’t recognize. There’s a single edge lined with ice dust which glimmers pale blue in the dim room, reflecting some light from the candle, but not enough to help the overall visibility. The other material might be slightly violet toward one end, or maybe it’s just his mind playing tricks in the low light. 

“Oh, good . There’s not enough of us still doing our jobs these days.”

“This girl Xuri. Why’re you chasing her?”

“It’s…”

She’s probably the current Summer Maiden, and therefore the only person who can currently access the Relic of Destruction. Also, magic is real and so are a whole lot of other things I probably can’t tell you, huntress or not. Although some trustworthy allies that aren’t kids or Clover would be nice…

“…actually a bit complicated, sorry,” Qrow says apologetically. “I just need to talk to her, that’s all, did you see where she went? I’m pretty sure I saw her run in here.”

“Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. Y’know, there’s a lot of hunters that really don’t uphold the oath. You and I both swore to protect the world, and not just from Grimm. Assuming you ain’t lyin’ about that too.”

Qrow is starting to have a very bad feeling about this, and it only intensifies when she stands up and reaches for her sword. It definitely has a faint purple to it, brighter near the tip, and it almost looks like it’s glowing from within rather than reflecting the candlelight. Uneasily, he lets his hand find Harbinger in response. “What are you—”

“Sometimes, that means protecting good folk from so-called huntsmen. They use their power to take what they want from the little people who can’t fight back.”

“No, no , absolutely not , that’s not why I—”

“Then why are you chasing Xuri?”

“I told you, I need to talk to her. She’s… important.”

That’s the most he can say without getting into magic, and if it’s not enough…

“You’ll have to do better than that.” With a single swing of her sword, the lone candle goes out, and with it goes all light save a dimly luminescent edge of violet. 

The good news is that Adler Point is mostly deserted. The bad news is that the Summer Maiden is nowhere to be seen, and a dark-skinned woman in a trenchcoat is currently dragging an unconscious Qrow by his ankles out of the building he mentioned.

“Hey!” Clover calls, and the woman’s head snaps up. Dark sunglasses hide her eyes. “What’s going on here?”

“Flash and bite. The battle is won not by a strike to the heart, but a thousand cuts about it. As this one just found out the hard way.” She looks him over a little more closely, and frowns. “Clover? That you?”

Clover nods while he tries to place where he knows her from. She does seem distinctly familiar, but where? It’d be easier if he could see her eyes.

Wait.

“Nora?”

“D’you know any other people who dress like this in a desert?” Nora Night only grins. “Fancy meetin’ you here! What’re you doing in Vacuo?”

“It’s…”

And here, Clover finds himself with the same difficulty Qrow had not five minutes before. He settles for saying, “A long story. What are you doing?”

Nora looks at Qrow. Clover also looks at Qrow. Qrow groans.

“Just takin’ out the trash. You wouldn’t believe the nerve of some folks calling themselves huntsmen these days.”

“I absolutely can,” Clover replies, “but that’s my trash and I’d like him back please.”

“You know him?”

“You know him?” Qrow asks incredulously and slightly unsteadily from where he’s still on the ground.

“Qrow, meet Nora Night, only former member of Team CMSN you haven’t met yet. Or… hadn’t.” Clover clears his throat awkwardly. “Nora, meet Qrow Branwen, former member of Team STRQ and also my new boyfriend.”

“Huh,” Nora says. She drops Qrow’s feet. 

Clover reaches down for him, pulls him to his feet. Qrow winces and rubs his head with a muttered, “Ow.”

“Well, I’d apologize for the misunderstanding, but this was a damn effective way of giving you the talk, now, wasn’t it?”

“You can say that again.”

Nora looks at Qrow, then at Clover, then at Qrow again. She sighs. A hand goes to her sword—unmistakably the same kind of sword she’d had back at Atlas Academy, but forged from a different, darker material.

“Now, Clover. You mind tellin’ me what your boyfriend was doing barging into my studio?”

“The short version is, we’re looking for a girl named Xuri…” Clover trails off as Nora raises her sword again. 

“Oh, not you too,” Nora mutters wearily. “Leave the poor girl alone.”

Clover doesn’t go for his own weapon so she lowers the blade slightly, just in time for Qrow to exclaim, “So you do know her!”

“Yes, and she’s been through enough . So who’re you two working for? Her Grace or Her Eminence? I never took you for the bootlicking type, Clover—oh. Wait.”

Qrow makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a muffled laugh.

“Definitely not Her Grace, I make a habit of not working with people who try to kill me. Especially not people who actually do kill me.”

“Sounds like there’s a story there.”

“Another long one.” Clover clears his throat awkwardly. “Who’s Her Eminence?”

Qrow steps in before she can answer. “Wait. You know who Salem is?”

“What kind of radio host would I be if I didn’t?”

While Qrow ponders what she could possibly mean by that, Clover only laughs. “Nothing to worry about from us,” he says. “We’re with Oz. Qrow’s been working with him for a long time.”

“Oz, hmm? Heard the other one was in town. Well, you tell him the girl he’s looking for is safe, and that if he’s plannin’ to stay in Vacuo, he might want to pick a different name. I’ll pass on a message to Xuri, see if she wants to be found. Run along now, we’ve all got places to be.”

“Of course.” Clover smiles. “It was good to catch up. I guess we’ll be seeing you around.”

“Mm-hmm. Maybe so.” Nora goes back inside without a backward glance, leaving Clover and Qrow to exchange glances in the alleyway. Finally Clover shrugs, and takes Qrow by the arm to lead him away.

Chapter Text

“So, what have we learned today?” Ozbot stands in the middle of the living room, twirling the cane that Clover finally returned to him. 

Everyone is back at the safehouse after their teams’ separate missions, crowding on and around the few insufficient couches and chairs. Team RWBY pile onto a loveseat meant for two people at most, Ren and Nora share another while Jaune and Pyrrha stand next to them with Qrow and Clover, and on the large couch are spread out four new friends: Team CFVY. 

“Fake Theo’s disguise is not very good,” Qrow leads. “Might fool people who have never seen the original, but that tail is just pathetic. You four, has anyone ever asked him why it doesn’t wag?”

“He broke his tailbone years ago and it never healed properly,” Velvet supplies. “He really isn’t the Headmaster Berzins we talked to about transferring to Shade?”

“Oh, I bet you did talk to this guy two years ago. Real one got pushed out long before that. Met him in Atlas and got the full story there.” Qrow rolls his eyes. “At least real Theo recognized me, unlike the one here.”

“Regardless, that tells us something about his capabilities.” Ozbot taps his cane on the floor. “Before we go further, however, are you sure about bringing four more people in on our mission?”

“Bit late for that discussion now,” Jaune pipes up. “They’ve already fought the Fall Maiden.”

“Miss Nikos,” Ozbot glares at the shared body. “You must learn when it is appropriate to use magic. Sparring with your friends is not the proper time.”

“I’m Jaune, actually, but… why not? She’s got to practice somehow.” Jaune pauses and glances at nobody for a moment. He gives a slight nod to the air, and then his eyes flash with pink from within. 

“We did learn that Professor Goldwing at Shade knows the Summer Maiden,” Pyrrha says. “Jaune and I have a meeting arranged with her tomorrow. Just us, though. And maybe someone from CFVY since she knows them already.” With that news delivered, her eyes flash again as she passes control back to Jaune. 

“And the headmaster does not know the Summer Maiden,” Clover adds. “He tried to pass it off as a security measure, but his only lead was Goldwing. Luckily, though…” He spins his horseshoe around one finger. “Qrow and I ran into someone else who can help us. My old teammate Nora. We’re supposed to hear from her about potentially meeting with Xuri.”

There are nods all around at this welcome bit of news. Every contact they have here can help. And Team CMSN’s two members in the Ace Ops did both renounce their bootlicking ways eventually, so this one is probably okay. She even left Atlas rather than join the military or academy like the rest. 

Except for one little issue. “Nora, huh?” The other Nora sounds like she’s sizing this unknown woman up for a fight for dominance. 

“Don’t even think about it.” Qrow knows exactly what that tone means. “She beat the crap out of me before Clover got there and explained. Seems our Xuri has some friends, and they don’t take kindly to outsiders.”

“Well, we did just show up here unannounced,” Ren points out. “The Summer Maiden didn’t ask for our help.”

“But keeping the Relic of Destruction safe is important,” Ruby says. “Team CFVY’s been telling us about Vacuo, and it sounds like Salem isn’t the only power to worry about.”

Coco stands to address everyone. “There’s a group called the Crown,” she begins. “We know a few of their agents – Carmine Esclados, for one – but their leader is known only as Her Eminence. They traffic in people with useful semblances, so if magic is real, you can bet they’ll want to capture anyone who can use it.”

“A powerful benefactor like that would explain how the impostor at Shade is still alive,” Ozbot muses. “Assuming Theo was right that he used to serve Salem before later deserting her. It’s a start. Is there anything else we’ve learned?”

Weiss looks around at the silent group for a moment, then speaks up. “I learned that Vacuo is even hotter and more unpleasant than I expected it to be.”

Ruby only grins. “And I learned that Weiss looks good in a desert outfit!” She shifts her position in the crowded seat and points as if to show her off, then wiggles out completely to stand on her own. 

“Yeah, you all look great,” Jaune says. “Where’d you get all that so fast?”

Ruby disappears into the adjoining bedroom, and comes back carrying a large bag emblazoned with the logo of the clothing shop they’d visited. “Oh, just somewhere one of the locals recommended.”

She reaches into the bag and retrieves a dark green patterned shirt that fastens one side over the other, accented by a pale blue wavy stripe cutting diagonally upward across the front. “This one’s for you, Ren! Look at the neckline, it has the pink petals of your emblem like your head’s a flower!”

“A lotus on the water,” Ren says, admiring the outfit. “Very impressive work.”

“And here’s yours, Nora!” Ruby pulls out a pink top, sleeveless to show off her muscles, short enough to show a bit of midriff as well. Across the center is a large heart shape composed of three parallel stripes: pale blue on either side, a gap filled with the background pink, and a white stripe in the center. The colors continue as well up the wide straps over each shoulder, exactly the width of the five stripes. 

“Oooh, I love the pattern! Not even being subtle about it this time.” Nora takes the top eagerly and holds it up to her chest while Ruby shows off the skirt that comes with it. It’s mostly pink as well but with inserts of white to enhance the frills, and it too sports the narrow stripes of blue-pink-white-pink-blue around the waistline. 

By now Jaune knows what’s coming, but he can still hardly believe it. “You got new outfits for all of us?”

“Yep! Great quality and so quick too, and Weiss’s inheritance can cover the cost a hundred times over!” Ruby sets the bag down and goes to fetch another, carrying this one from the bottom with both arms. There is a clunk as this one too is set down, and then she draws forth a white shirt emblazoned with two golden crescents, each outlined in red. “For you, Jaune. Not that anyone will see it under the armor, but, you know.” She shrugs. 

Next up is a pair of white long pants, and Jaune balks. “Oh, come on, white? I’ve been wearing blue since Beacon!”

“It would match the rest of the team,” Ren says calmly. “And white is cooler in the sun.”

“Alright, fine… wait. What’s that?”

Ruby is holding up something that looks suspiciously like a leather corset with gold edging. “For Pyrrha!” Next from the bag comes a pair of golden boots, each sporting a tiny bladed wing on the heel. “These are magnetic. Just in case.” Matching golden bracers follow them. And to finish the look, she brings out a red skirt with a diagonal-cut bottom, with a single white stripe down the longer side. 

Jaune rests his face in his hands, until a muffled flash of light signifies a change in control of his body. “This looks wonderful,” Pyrrha says. “You really didn’t have to – especially not for me. I don’t even have my own body to wear it all!”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Yang tells her with a wink. “It’s all made to Jaune’s measurements. Whichever one of you gets dressed in the morning can choose what the body wears that day. Have fun!”

The door of Headmaster Berzins’s office creaks open once more. It’s just minutes before its owner is set to leave for the evening and he’s shuffling papers in and out of a desk drawer, but maybe he can see one last student inquiry before he goes. 

It’s not a student. Nor a professor, though Teshin gets the feeling he will be answering some questions soon. 

“Your Eminence! How may I be of service?” Teshin hurriedly stands, and gives a bow. 

The elegant woman across the office shuts the door behind her as she enters. She wears a narrow strapless dress closely patterned in black and scarlet, with matching gloves and a black purse slung over one arm. There’s no sign of a weapon, but that’s no guarantee she isn’t carrying one. 

“My dear Teshin…” Her Eminence smiles sweetly. “I’ve heard you had some interesting guests earlier. Is there anything you’d like to report?”

Teshin gulps, and grips the edge of his chair where no one can see his knuckles turning white. “Yes, of course. Some of the group you warned me about, including the Maiden. I sent them to Professor Goldwing in the hope that she will lead us to the other one.”

“Interesting. You have them under surveillance?”

“Carmine is following them. I know where they’re staying now, and when I get a chance we’ll bug the place.”

Her Eminence flips long hair over her shoulder. “That doesn’t quite seem like enough, to me.” She stares up at the ceiling with its glassless windows for a long moment. “One agent? No matter how skilled, a single pair of eyes has limits. I don’t want that Maiden ever out of your sight. Understood?”

“Understood. I’ll assign more at once. Also…” Teshin grits his teeth. “I’m afraid there’s less favorable news as well. Ozpin is here. He’s reincarnated. And where he goes…”

“Salem will follow.” Her Eminence’s expression darkens. “Then it seems we will soon be fighting on two fronts. A war without, before we’ve even won the war within.”

She looks off into space for a moment. A slight, nearly imperceptible tilt of the head, and then her aura flares up red. It flashes brighter for just an instant, then fades again. 

“There is one other order of business, however,” she says suddenly, and unzips the top of her purse. “Our oh so useful scientist friend has completed another batch. May I see your helmet for a moment?”

Teshin stands again to retrieve his helm from the shelf behind his desk. It’s shaped like an inverted cone, wider at the top, and it comes down over his eyes to put two cyan lenses in their place. He steps forward to hand it over to his superior, but she only sets it down on the edge of the desk. 

Her Eminence draws out a small teardrop-shaped glass vial which fits comfortably in her hand, filled with swirling liquid in an ever-shifting melange of black and red. She admires it briefly, then flips the cap off with her thumb to smell the ghostly vapors that rise from the vial. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” She picks up Teshin’s helmet again in her other hand and examines the smaller, hollow ring around the base. She slides open a small hole and then, with a precise motion, tips the vial to pour its contents into the metal. She holds the now empty vial’s spout between her teeth as she tilts the helmet back and forth, softly humming to herself. 

With the hole plugged, she hands the helmet back to its owner. “Not certain that’s quite enough, but I’m sure Regor will have more for us soon. He’d better. I wish he’d find a way to increase production.”

Teshin seems unsure of himself as he stares absently at his own helm. “Remind me again, Your Eminence, what purpose this substance is meant to serve?”

He gets a sly smile in response. “Mind dust,” Her Eminence answers. “An innovation even Atlas, inventor of hard light, has not devised. Unique and powerful, and strangely, more stable as a liquid than as a crystal. Use it – such as from a ring around your head – and you should be able to strike at anyone with merely a thought.”

“Useful indeed.”

“More so than I expect you imagine.” The woman’s slow pacing brings her near the door again, and she turns one last time. “Stay the course for now, Teshin Dax. Times are changing, but I have it on good authority that they’re about to change in our favor.”

“Then I look forward to sharing in your reflected glory, Your Eminence.” 

Teshin bows deeply, and when he raises his head again, his master is gone. 

It’s been a long day for Ruby Rose and her team. A long day mostly filled with walking through the city, getting lost, getting unlost, getting lost again somewhere else, and doing some shopping along the way. All in all, pretty relaxing compared to the last couple months, but a workout nonetheless. 

Right now, all Ruby really wants to do is join her two girlfriends – and their one girlfriend who is not also Ruby’s girlfriend – in bed. They’ve turned in a little early while Ruby stayed up to oil and polish her beloved Crescent Rose, but right now her work has been rather rudely interrupted by a quite unwelcome visitor. 

“Miss Rose,” Ozbot begins, “May I speak with you for a moment?”

“I guess,” Ruby replies without looking up. She drips another bit of oil into a joint on her weapon, and folds and unfolds it a few times for good measure. 

“I am worried about you,” he leads, and takes a seat across the table from her. “About the influence Salem may have over you. I should have taken a closer interest while we were all in Atlas, before it all began falling apart around us. Maybe some things could have been avoided.”

“Like what?” Ruby still barely pays him any mind. 

“Whatever she has over you, you don’t have to obey. You will always be her target – short of going blind, there’s no way of avoiding that. But you are surrounded by people who will protect you, and you’re quite a fighter yourself. Blackmail shouldn’t get to you.”

“I’m not being blackmailed.”

“Forgive me, but I am struggling to think of any other explanation that would reconcile the Ruby Rose I know with some of your actions in Atlas. I thought I’d impressed upon you all the knowledge that Salem will manipulate people to her own ends. There is no reason to cooperate with her, much less defend her.”

Ruby conceals an eyeroll with a close inspection of her scythe. “I don’t know, getting rid of Cinder seemed like a pretty good reason to me. Cooperation doesn’t have to be all or nothing, you know. In that moment, Salem was the enemy of my enemy.”

Ozbot sighs. “A fine sentiment for lesser conflicts, but not Salem. Please, if there is anything she is using as leverage, tell me and I can help you neutralize it.”

Ruby folds Crescent Rose back completely into portable form and leans back from the table. “You mean tell you so you can use it as leverage too? Sorry, but there just isn’t anything. Besides…” She pulls her scroll out of her pocket and opens it. “Salem stayed behind in Atlas. We’re out of contact no matter what.”

She taps a button on the screen and the sound of ringing is heard briefly, before the characteristic error tone and a pre-recorded message about the recipient being out of range or otherwise not found on the local CCT network. 

This, finally, seems to set Ozbot more at ease. “Hmm. That’s one piece of good news, at least. Although it only reinforces my belief that Atlas is not safe. In the context of your situation, however, the Amity tower coming online would seem to be a double-edged sword.”

“I know how to take care of myself. Good night, Professor.”

Ruby takes her weapon with her to the bedroom and shuts the door behind her. Her teammates are all sound asleep already in their single queen-size bed, their own armaments laying peacefully on a table by the window. Ruby sets Crescent Rose down next to the rest, but can’t quite bring herself to slip into bed as well. 

She slides open the closet door and sits down against the wall inside, leaning against a stack of clothes as she brings out a cubical box from its hidden place in the back. She lifts the lid, and with merely a gesture the glassy dome within begins to rise up, revealing beneath it red tentacles each tipped with a wicked barb. 

The seer, given to her as a parting gift from Salem just days before she left the kingdom of Atlas. A way to stay in contact, with CCT or no. And despite their opposing sides, Ruby always had found the witch pleasant to talk to – and much more reasonable and sane than Oz made her out to be. 

Ruby holds her right hand out over the seer’s bulb and concentrates, and the magic glove embedded in her skin activates its power. Salem’s emblem pulses faintly over the back of her hand for a moment, then fades again as the smoke within the odd Grimm creature thins to nothing. 

“Hello, Ruby.” Salem’s face appears in the glass. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I… I’m not sure.” Why is she sitting in her closet when she could be snuggled in bed with Weiss and Blake? “I don’t have much reason to call. Except practicing with the seer, I suppose. At least I got the right person this time.”

Salem quirks one eyebrow upward, and Ruby immediately makes a sheepish grin. “The first time, before we left, I was still thinking of Vacuo too much and, well… I accidentally called Hazel, I think. He wasn’t home.” But that reminds her. “Does he know? About our… arrangement?”

“He does. Emerald and Mercury are there as well. I’ve informed them all that your team is to be considered neutral. The students are none too pleased with this, I fear, but they shouldn’t give you any trouble.”

“Thanks. We’re still kind of figuring out what’s going on around here. Met up with a few friends from Beacon though, that’s been nice. Anything happening in Atlas?”

“General Ironwood’s two successors came to blows over which of them would have the use of his office. Little Duck livestreamed the whole thing. It was quite entertaining.”

Ruby bursts out laughing, and quickly clamps a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. “Don’t tell me who won. I want to see what Weiss thinks tomorrow.” Still smiling, she continues, “Speaking of headmasters, actually, my friends met with the one here. He has no idea who we are or what we know.”

“Ah, Teshin, yes… I’ve been meaning to kill him for some time now, but it’s never quite been a priority. You have my blessing to finish the job, if need be.”

“I don’t think so… Doubt Oz would go for it, either. We can work around a fake headmaster. Though, Ozpin… he thinks you’re blackmailing me, you know. I’ve just sort of given up explaining myself at this point. As long as you’re still keeping your promise, I don’t see that you and I have much to fight over. He doesn’t see it that way.”

“No, I imagine he wouldn’t. A shame, really.” Salem frowns into the seer. “I tried explaining my position to him directly, all those millennia ago, and he chose his god-given mission over everything we had together. It’s been downhill ever since.”

“He was kind of annoying today. Finally I just got out my scroll and showed him that we can’t contact each other without the CCT, and he backed off.”

Salem nods. “Good thinking. Does anyone else know that’s a lie?”

“Just my team.” Ruby glances out of the rather cozy closet at the rest of the bedroom. “A team I should probably go join now, actually. It was nice to catch up.”

“Likewise.” The image of Salem ripples and swirls, and in moments there is only red mist in its place. 

The Vacuo wall. A good ways beyond even the farthest flung structures of the city, built there centuries in advance in a rare moment of foresight. It’s hard to build upward on a bed of unstable sand, and so the kingdom’s founders knew that once a presence here was established, it would have to expand rapidly outward. 

And to truly protect against all manner of desert Grimm, the wall extends down into the sand farther than it stretches up, for otherwise all the burrowing creatures would have free reign to terrorize Vacuo and its inhabitants. 

In the shadow of the wall, four women gather – and Jaune, who’s carried along automatically while Pyrrha and Coco meet with two guardians of the Summer Maiden. 

“Were you followed?” Jade asks, before even an introduction. She has a white cloak draped awkwardly over her wings, its hood pushed back so the visitors can see her face. 

“No,” Pyrrha reports. “I’m sure of it. We had someone scout ahead, from above. We’re all clear.”

Jade’s eyes narrow. “You’re in contact with someone else? I told you to leave your scrolls behind in case you’re tracked.”

“We did!” Pyrrha and Coco both turn out empty pockets. “Our friend can turn into a bird. He’d fly down and caw at us if we were being followed.”

Finally the silent, hooded woman besides Jade steps forward to speak. “You’re traveling with Qrow Branwen?”

Pyrrha nods. “You… know him?”

The woman in a more well-fitting white cloak pushes her pink-tinted glasses higher on her nose and looks to Jade. “They really are with Ozpin. Qrow has been an agent of his for years.” She keeps her hood up, but finally introduces herself. “My name is Eve. I help protect the Summer Maiden. I’ve been told you’re Fall?”

Pyrrha shuts her eyes tight for a moment, and when they reopen orange fire springs from their edges. “I know I don’t look the part,” she says, “but I am the Fall Maiden. I died in the Fall of Beacon and was eventually brought back in Atlas. It’s a long story. Now I’m sharing the body of my team leader, Jaune. This is Coco, another friend from Beacon who transferred here after the Fall.”

Coco waves. “Lot to take in here, but they’ve been filling my team in. And we’ve been telling them about the Crown. There’s some kind of magic sword buried beneath Shade?”

“The Relic of Destruction. Only the Summer Maiden can access it. The sword cuts through reality itself, and I fear for our world if the Queen ever gets her hands on it.”

“Salem is currently in Atlas,” Pyrrha says. “We have a way to keep tabs on her movements.”

Jade shakes her head. “We don’t mean her. Coco, your team’s had run-ins with the Crown before? If I’d known that earlier, we could have been working together. Their leader, Her Eminence, that’s the one we mean. She’s been hunting the Summer Maiden for years now.”

“The Headmaster of Shade is in her pocket,” Eve continues in her stead. “We have reason to believe General Tuvul is working for her as well, though if so it’s certainly not willingly. This presents a problem, as Her Eminence herself holds one of the at-large seats on the Council. You may know her as the rather inconveniently named Ozma.”

“Three out of five…” Pyrrha shudders. “Atlas had similar problems, until General Ironwood died and his two seats separated.”

“Wait, wait, hold up a second here.” Coco raises one hand with a face of pure disbelief. “The Crown’s leader is Councilwoman Ozma? Gods damn. I knew they went high up, but…”

“The Crown is also not their only name,” Eve tells her. “In private, when they think no one can hear, they refer to themselves as the Grineer.”

“A name,” Jade cuts in, “which Professor Sirius over in the history department tells me is an ancient word meaning ‘slaves’. Presumably this means they think of themselves as rising up against all the established powers of the world.”

“And they want magic?”

“Indeed. It wasn’t safe for Summer to meet with Fall directly,” Eve explains, “and to be quite honest, Fall should probably leave the kingdom. Another Maiden in Vacuo is another chance for Her Eminence to capture a magic-user… and transfer the power to herself.”

Pyrrha shakes her head. “I don’t think my friends are going to want to leave. We just came from Atlas, I really shouldn’t go near Vale, and there’s just nothing happening in Mistral. I’m willing to be a target if it helps take these people down.”

Eve only smiles. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from a huntress.” She adjusts her glasses again and extends a hand. 

But before Pyrrha can take it, a loud caw startles her and she glances up at the sky. A black bird circles around and cries out once more, then flies away toward the city. 

“Sounds like we’ve got to go,” Pyrrha says apologetically. Eve and Jade are both already looking around them at the emptiness, but whatever Qrow saw is not yet in view of those on the ground. “How can we stay in touch?”

Jade casts off her white cloak and spreads her wings. As she lifts off and Eve breaks away running in an entirely different direction, she calls down a few parting words. “Keep your radios on!”

Closer in, on the outskirts of the ever-expanding city, two different women walk together down a dusty street. Carmine Esclados, a trusted agent of the Crown, with fiery hair, a skimpy chainmail outfit, and goggles to protect her eyes against the blowing sand – and Astra Vermilion, fully covered in an even more intense red, carrying a long staff with a bladed crook at the very top. 

A short ways ahead is the villa of one of the founding families of Vacuo, here since the centuries-old dust rush and in constant use ever since by one of the lucky miners’ wealthy descendants. This may be the kingdom of survivors, accepting of all… but when it comes to getting elected to the Council, having money still helps quite a bit. 

“You know the plan?” Astra doesn’t even look at her co-conspirator as she speaks. 

“We break in, kill anyone in our way, and grab Avantus. Simple as that.”

“In effect, though a minimum of killing would be ideal. We don’t want news getting out, after all. And of course… there is one thing I’d like to test, while we’re here.”

“Oh?”

Astra reaches into an interior pocket and withdraws a small vial of reddish-black liquid, and stops briefly to affix it into the crook at the top of her staff. “This,” she says. “Tyl Regor really is quite the genius, sometimes. When he’s not going on about that hopeless project of cloning.”

“Is that…?”

“Kuva.” Astra grins. “A most versatile new form of composite dust. Here, let me demonstrate…”

Before Carmine can react, Astra whirls around to point the staff at her head. A cloud of twisting scarlet and black forms around the staff’s tip, condensing into a narrow beam that strikes Carmine directly between the eyes. 

Instantly Carmine’s face contorts with pain and she raises both hands to the side of her head, struggling not to cry out. She drops to her knees, and only then does Astra turn the staff away. 

Astra leans down to help her partner in crime back to her feet, and smiles. “Now for the best part… Check your aura strength.”

Carmine fumbles for her scroll. “One hundred percent,” she manages, still a little dizzy from the experience. 

“Precisely. Kuva doesn’t care if you have aura shielding. Any conscious mind can be a target, and it doesn’t matter if there’s a body or aura in the way. Now, if only we could produce it in any decent quantity…”

Carmine, still blinking and rubbing her head, gives a slight nod. “That’s… something, alright. Probably better used against our enemies.” She can’t outright tell Astra to never ‘demonstrate’ on her again, not when this woman outranks her in the organization, but she can suggest that such a precious substance not be used on the undeserving. 

And then she can do her absolute best to make sure she stays undeserving. 

There’s not much time to recover before the iron gates of the estate are suddenly looming before them. At this time of night Councilwoman Avantus should be home, preparing to go to bed – wide open and unprepared.

“I don’t suppose you could pick that lock with your telekinesis?” Astra suggests. 

Carmine stares at the heavy padlock across the gate and concentrates. While the famous telekinesis abilities of now-Headmistress Goodwitch at Beacon are based on targeting an object and specifying a new place for it, Carmine’s own semblance merely creates regions of force that affect everything within. There’s a reason Carmine can create sandstorms and Goodwitch can’t. 

As such, precision has never been quite her focus, but a simple vertical-pin lock is not difficult to defeat. “All done,” Carmine announces. “Say, you got any plans for later?”

“Depends how this goes,” Astra replies tersely. “Let’s get in there before we’re seen.”

Chapter Text

It’s not an easy job, being a wanted woman’s eyes and ears. Nora Night knows this all too well. 

But it’s not so bad, most days. She has her studio, and a small apartment elsewhere that she keeps quite separate from all her radio-related tasks, all the tools she really needs to live two lives and make sure Her Eminence only knows about one of them. 

Her other identity is a huntress, of course, but also an amateur photographer. It’s a hobby she’s spread to the Summer Maiden and all her other protectors as well. It’s a rather useful hobby to have, for Nora. 

Right now, she’s sitting in her comfy chair behind the microphone, leafing through a stack of printed photos. One upside to having their enemy be a powerful member of the Vacuan government is that it’s relatively easy to snap pictures of her as she’s entering or leaving the Council building. A little harder to get the clear shot of her face that Nora needs, but doable every now and then. 

Ah, there’s one. That should do. 

Nora sets down the rest of the photos and places one finger over the face of Councilwoman Ozma. With a thought, her semblance engages. 

And suddenly, the darkened room around her is gone. So is her own body, and every other indication that she still rests physically in the same spot she was a moment before. There is only a silent, invisible point of perception hanging in the air somewhere across the city of Vacuo, staring helplessly at the sight of Ozma and an unknown woman on a couch, engaging in some quite passionate activity which Nora would really rather not witness. 

Could she at least not witness it this often? It’s never the same face twice either. Just how many lovers does Her Eminence have?

Nora mentally sighs. It’s an occupational hazard with this kind of semblance. But every activation consumes the photo she uses it on, wiping that person’s image out entirely from their surroundings, so she’ll just have to wait it out. At least she’s free to move her viewpoint around, to anywhere within a rough fifteen foot radius of her target. 

There’s not really anything to see out the windows of wherever this is. Shade is visible in the distance, the CCT next to it, but before Nora can fully draw a map in her head and triangulate where Her Eminence’s most recent residence is, the sound of voices draws her attention. It seems Ozma and her partner have some business to discuss. Good. That makes her use of a photo worthwhile. 

“My dear, sweet, precious Astra… what are we going to do now?” Ozma’s voice is low, breathy, preoccupied with more than future plans. Understandably so, when she’s on her back with a beautiful woman kneeling over her, but apparently the Grineer machinations never rest. 

Astra, whoever that is, leans down like she’s going for another kiss, but stops just short. “Whatever we like,” she whispers. 

Nora does find it a little odd that someone she’s never seen before could be so close to Her Eminence… but then again, there does seem to be some turnover in the top positions, so it’s not too unexpected. Nora’s overseen some of that turnover herself. 

“You know exactly what I like,” Ozma murmurs. “But I’m serious. Four Council seats? We only really need three…”

“But why not take them all? It’s not like it’s hard. With Avantus out of the way, we can… oh, I don’t know. Feed Karishh to the Grimm, or something.”

With Avantus out of the way? That’s not a good thing to hear. Councilwoman Avantus has been one of the few people in power to properly stand up to the Grineer influence over Vacuo. What is Her Eminence planning to do now?

“If you want. Not that it will much matter once our little project is complete, but another seat or two in the meantime can’t hurt. Just in case.” Ozma wraps her arms around her partner and buries her face in her hair, and whispers something Nora can’t quite make out. 

Not that she really needs to. Her Eminence is planning an attack on the Council. Apparently her own seat – and everyone knows that election was bogus, but there’s nothing they can do – along with one willing collaborator and at least one unwilling thrall, still isn’t enough power for her. 

Nora breaks the connection. She’s back in her studio now, in the dim candlelight that trips up intruders while she can see just fine herself, and before her on the table is exactly what she’ll need: her microphone, and her wildly illegal set of jamming and amplifying devices that let her broadcast to everyone whether they want to listen or not. 

A few button presses, and she’s live. 

“Dreamers! Thinkers, makers, revolutionaries! Vacuo, it’s an ill wind indeed that whispers across the sands this night. Stay indoors, I tell you, and stick by each other’s backs. Many hands make light work… but the darkness has many hands too, and they have not been idle!”

A slight pause to let that sink in, and then she continues. “Y’all know the hands I’m talkin’ about. Now, it’s no crime to fight for a better future, but when that comes at the expense of others’ present? Others’ lives? No, sirree. Nora’s gonna have to put her foot down. Who’s with me?”

There’s the general call to action, enough to be interpreted by her friends in the know. Someone’s being targeted for an attack. Now, the details of who.

“Who do we look to when things go wrong? When things go right? Who do we choose to bear our burdens? That’s the question of the modern age. The king of old, with his crown and scepter, is he still our single guiding light? Or just a teacher, until we can shine on our own? Y’all know. Eighty years we’ve known, these last four in particular. And y’all don’t let nobody tell you to forget.”

That should be clear enough that she means the Council, and that she wants Ozpin’s group to help. And there’s only one Councilor who’s held the position for just a single four-year term. Just a little more now, and she can call this message done. 

“The sun’ll come up tomorrow, as it always does. I know it will. And it’ll shine over a free Vacuo, ‘cause y’all dreamers make it shine. Don’t give up, now. Nightwave out.”

What, who, when. That’ll get the message across. At dawn tomorrow, before anything else can go wrong, someone had damn well better intercept Councilwoman Avantus and get her to safety. 

“I can’t believe I didn’t recognize her voice the first time,” Clover mutters half to himself as he and a selection of young huntsmen and huntresses walk up the steps of the Council building. “Nora Night was my teammate. I knew she lived in Vacuo now and I’d heard she had a radio station, but I didn’t connect the dots until her message last night.”

Behind him, Ruby and Jaune can only look to each other and shrug. They’d met the other members of Team CMSN in Atlas, but heard little about this last one. 

“Sounds like she’s important around here,” Jaune says. “She certainly knows a lot about what’s going to happen. If we were interpreting that message right.”

“Her semblance is for spying,” Clover confirms. “The four of us together were meant to be a covert infiltration team. Nora gathers intel beforehand, Simon tells us how to dispatch anyone along the way, Marrow helps us escape a sticky situation, and I give luck to the whole endeavor. But then after graduation we all took different jobs.”

“Ooh, that’s pretty cool.” Ruby trots ahead to keep pace with Clover rather than trailing behind. “My team is made up of people who pick up a white knight when someone leaves a bunch of chess pieces in the forest. Jaune’s team took the white rooks.”

“Sounds like Ozpin’s methods, all right.” Clover stops at the front desk to ask directions and make sure their appointment is on the schedule, then leads onward. “Nora’s a good person to have on our side. She does have a penchant for riddles, but it’s not bad if you know what to listen for.”

They arrive at the office door and Clover knocks, and immediately a voice calls for them to come in. Councilwoman Avantus stands to greet them, and offers everyone a chair in front of her desk. 

“Welcome, Mr…” She glances down at her planner. “Pine, was it? What can I do for you today?”

“Thank you for seeing us.” Clover nods respectfully. “My name is Oscar Pine, and this is Ruby Rose and Jaune Arc. We’re huntsmen and huntresses.”

“Ah. Well, I hope you’re training these two young maidens well. Vacuo can always use more skilled fighters.”

Jaune startles at the word ‘maidens’. Avantus can’t possibly know, right? A quick word from inside spurs him to speak up and set the record straight. “Sorry, but, uh… I’m a boy, actually.”

“Oh! My mistake.”

“What we wanted to see you about,” Clover says, “is that we’ve received information that suggests an attack on your person is being planned. We wanted to make sure you knew and could take appropriate precautions. We can even guard you ourselves while my associates work to neutralize the threat.”

Rather than being alarmed, Avantus seems to relax further into her seat. “Thank you for the warning,” she says, “and for the generous offer of assistance. But I’m afraid you’ve come too late.”

“What?” Ruby and Jaune both move one hand toward their weapons, and Clover surreptitiously rubs his pin. 

“The attack came last night,” Avantus explains. “And was thwarted. A pair of ruffians broke into my home, apparently intending to kidnap and ransom me. They were rather ineffective at the job.”

“Oh. Really?” Ruby’s eyes narrow, but the Councilwoman clearly sits before her, perfectly unharmed. “Well, that’s good to hear.”

“Still,” Jaune adds, “this doesn’t mean you’re entirely out of danger. Our sources suggest you have powerful enemies who aren’t above using force to get what they want.”

Avantus looks down at the planner spread open on her desk again, and flips a page forward and then back. “If I may ask, who are these sources? I believe I could clear a spot on my schedule to meet them, if you insist I’m in danger. I could see the evidence for myself?” 

Clover presents her with his classic easygoing smile. “We’d rather not make it a matter of public record, especially if the attack you mentioned was the only one planned. It’s quite possible we’re overreacting, but, better that than the alternative, right?”

“Of course. I do appreciate the warning, really. Have there been threats made against other members of the Council?”

“Not that we’ve heard, but we’ll be warning them all to keep an eye out, just in case. Thank you for your time.”

“Wait!” Ruby holds up a hand before Clover can lead them away. “While we’re here… we’re new to Vacuo. Could you tell us a little about the huntsman work available?”

Avantus nods sagely as she stands and steps out from behind the desk. “Afraid that’s Karishh’s department so I only know the highlights he tells me, but there’s always work to be had. There’s a standard mission board downstairs in the lobby. Although, if it’s search and destroy you’re looking for, you may have some competition. Apparently there’s one huntress around who takes them all, and–”

She freezes mid-sentence, still gazing at Ruby. “You… have silver eyes.”

“Um. Yes? Is that… significant, somehow?” 

“Never mind.” Avantus shakes her head. “Just an unusual sight, that’s all.”

Well. It seems Ruby really has learned a thing or two about deception, despite her own best efforts. Salem would be proud. 

“We’ll take a look on our way out,” Clover says, and offers a hand. Avantus takes it. “Thanks again, and stay safe, Councilwoman.”

“You as well.” Avantus leans back against her desk until her office door shuts behind the three huntsmen, then she opens her scroll and sends a single short message. 

Moments later, her door is pushed open again by one Councilwoman Ozma. “Something interesting?” she asks with a smile. 

“Very.” Avantus meets her almost in the doorway and wraps her in a tender embrace. “I just had some visitors intent on protecting me from the attack last night. Newcomers to Vacuo, one of them wearing green and calling himself Oscar. I’m sure the old Avantus would have welcomed their help.”

Ozma pulls away slightly, and gently touches their foreheads together. “Well, I’m glad the new Avantus knows better,” she breathes. “Come, tell me everything. There’s much we need to prepare for.”

It’s been a long time since Emerald and Mercury walked together through the streets of Vale, cleaning up a few minor affairs left by Roman Torchwick and pickpocketing wallets off every person they passed by. The concerns of that day seem so minor now. After meeting Cinder’s master in person, being sent to help destroy Haven Academy, and then to plan the same at Shade, nothing before can really compare. 

Vacuo is certainly different. None of the other kingdoms have a powerful and secretive-but-not- secret organization running most of the government behind the scenes, unless maybe you count the Atlesian military. 

But their goal is the same as it’s always been: find the relevant Maiden, cause chaos, then steal the Relic while everyone is distracted fighting. 

Hazel can take care of the first goal, so he says. His teaching position at the Academy affords him many connections, and only proves again that the headmaster here is not the one installed by Ozpin decades ago. It’s the second goal that Emerald and Mercury are pursuing today. 

“This is the place,” Emerald says without looking back at her partner. “You know the plan.”

As they approach what looks like an abandoned warehouse, Mercury hangs back behind. There’s a single man leaning against the wall, smoking, the perfect image of an unremarkable citizen taking a break in the shade for a moment – but the cattle prod strapped to his thigh gives away his real purpose. 

Emerald waves. “Hey! Have you seen a one-eyed beast around lately?” That’s the code phrase. Supposedly it means something to the people who work here, but to Emerald it only sounds like something their enemies might have said about Cinder. But she can’t think about Cinder now. If she does she’ll probably cry, and she can’t afford to do that while infiltrating an enemy base. 

The man straightens up. “Maybe so,” he says. “But I haven’t seen you two before.”

Emerald and Mercury each produce their identification, and Emerald brings out a folded sheet of paper as well. It’s blank, but that’s no issue. Not to her. 

She hands it over, projecting an illusion into the man’s mind of a letter neatly written on the page. As far this guard is concerned, these two are new recruits for the Crown, sent to work on the project at this location. It’s even signed by Her Eminence herself, as an added touch of authenticity. 

“Alright then.” The guard hands Emerald her blank paper back, and she relaxes her semblance. “Careful though. Morning shift started an hour ago. If you don’t know what the boss is like yet… well, you will soon.”

They can’t be worse than Cinder, a small, traitorous part of Emerald thinks, and she hates herself for it.

“We know what we’re getting into,” Mercury says disdainfully. He clearly cares about as much about this as he does about anything else. Which is to say, not at all.

The guard snorts. “Word of advice, kid: don’t take that tone with the boss. Not if you want to keep all your limbs.”

Oh. Lovely. The last thing Emerald needs is for them to be kicked out before they’ve even gotten in, so she loops her arm through Mercury’s, flashes the guard a disarming smile, and says, “I’ll keep him under control. No need to worry about us.”

He doesn’t seem to be entirely convinced, but he lets them pass. It’s only after the door closes behind them that Emerald jerks her arm away and hisses, “Do you want to fuck this up?”

“Of course not,” Mercury mutters back. Emerald pretends not to see his glare at the door they came through as they descend a flight of stairs. “I won’t be the one dropping the ball on this.”

“Then what was that?”

Mercury ignores her question. “I don’t plan on following in Cinder’s footsteps. Do you?”

Emerald scoffs. She ignores the way it hurts. Cinder is in the past now, no matter how much Emerald wishes she had won that doomed fight she picked. “I’m not stupid. Now shut up, someone’s coming.”

She would use her semblance to ‘prove’ it, but there’s no need. Someone actually walks past, in a rush, but backtracks upon seeing them. “What are you two doing standing around out here? If you’ve got nothing better to do, I need you on the upper deck. Come on, you should know how important it is that the demonstration goes well.”

That was… easier than Emerald thought. “Oh, of course,” she says. “Let’s get a move on.”

Once they turn, she shrugs, half to herself, half to Mercury, and follows their unwitting accomplice. After a few moments, she hears his booted footsteps clanking louder than he’d like after her.

The two of them are led through a maze of corridors—Emerald loses count of how many turns they’ve made after the first ten, but there are at least maps on the wall at every junction—and finally through a side door onto a flight of metal stairs. Their escort takes the stairs two at a time, clearly in a hurry, and finally exits at the top landing.

The upper deck, as it turns out, isn’t a misnomer. The warehouse is, in fact, still a warehouse for the most part, and consists of one very large room above the maze of assorted corridors and offices and whatever else they’d passed on the way in. They’re on a catwalk above… something.

It’s… whatever it is, it’s huge. It must be the size of an Atlesian destroyer at least, but where those are more long than tall, this is more tall than long. It sports a vaguely tubular, oblong, rather lumpy design, and Emerald realizes with no small amount of apprehension that it’s actually levitating nearly six feet off the ground so far below. 

The ground too far below. They’ve dug out the floor of this building and there’s more of this facility underground than above. The amount of work that must have gone into this place is just staggering. 

“Okay,” their escort says. “That’s enough staring—I know the view from up here is something, alright, but we may have… stretched the truth, slightly, about how operational the targeting system is. One of you needs to run around to the other side, grab the targeter there, and manually point it at that banner down there. The other needs to stay here and do the same with this one.”

Emerald steps towards what she assumes is the targeter before Mercury can. He glares at her, but sets off nevertheless at a quick jog to his own. She gets into position, points it at the banner, and takes the opportunity to look a little closer at what she’s pointing at.

It’s… well, it’s definitely a banner, that’s for sure. And it’s a little difficult to tell from here, but those certainly look like Vale’s colors, and the graphic on it could, feasibly, be a pair of crossed axes. If this sports even a fraction of the firepower of one of Ironwood’s ships, well, she and Mercury might have just found exactly what they were looking for.

“So,” Emerald says like she wants to make small talk, “boss is here?”

“Yep. That’s him up there in the observation deck.” Her escort points. The one place even higher than their catwalk, at the far opposite end of the building, is a glass-enclosed area. There’s definitely at least one person up there, although he’s difficult to get a good angle on. Someone big with a squarish face. 

“He won’t notice the two of you aiming manually unless something goes wrong,” they continue. “And if it does? Such a shame, that—”

“Spare me the idle threats,” Emerald says dryly. “I’ve heard enough already.”

“Fine. Just keep it pointed at the banner, until…”

Her supervisor trails off as a loudspeaker kicks on, and a single deafening voice booms throughout the warehouse. “You maggots call me out here, you’d better have something to show for it! I want that banner obliterated! Crushed like every enemy of the Grineer war machine! Fomorian commander, fire! At! Will!”

The machine lets out a colossal foghorn noise in response, and seconds later, there’s the flash of a wide red laser and the banner explodes. The deck is high enough that even the highest-flying bits of burning cloth don’t come close, but Emerald still flinches just from the sheer force of the blast. Then the smoke comes billowing up to fill the room, and for a few, terrifying moments she can’t breathe.

Then someone switches on some massive fans, and the smoke clears. Emerald risks a glance down. There is not a trace of the banner left. Even the platform it was on has been blown to bits, and the wall behind it sports some cracks that weren’t there before.

“That’s a fraction of how powerful it’s going to be when it’s finished,” her escort says proudly. “That’s about the limit of how much we can do in here, what with the whole secrecy thing, but…”

“Holy shit,” Emerald says.

“Yeah,” they agree, for entirely different reasons.

She needs to grab Mercury, and they need to get out of here. For a Fall of Shade, even the limited amount of power just displayed would work nicely. At full potential?

At full potential, there won’t be anything left of Shade and its spoiled little hunters to rebuild—and unlike a Grimm that size, a machine can’t be turned to stone.

“Hi, Blake! You, um… got a moment?”

Blake’s ears twitch as she turns. They perk up upon actually seeing her friend. “Hey, Velvet. What’s up?”

“Well…” Velvet shrugs slightly. “I was just wondering how you were doing, I guess? Since you’re…” She gestures vaguely at her own bunny ears. “Out, now? How have you been?”

“I’m doing… okay,” Blake says. “Nice to be able to say that. I don’t think I was the last time I saw you.”

Velvet laughs nervously. “I… don’t think I really was either.”

“But you are now?”

Blake is more relieved than she’ll admit when Velvet nods emphatically. “The sand gets in everything, but… nobody cares that I’m a faunus. Nobody cares about my ears! And I know that isn’t the real Professor Theodore, but even he’s a lot better than…”

Velvet trails off with a furtive glance in Ozbot’s direction.

“You want to get out of here for a few minutes?” Blake asks, only halfway so they can diss the late Professor Ozpin in peace. He’d always talked a good game about racial equality at his school, but he hadn’t done much to make faunus students feel like they fit in. 

Velvet nods. The two of them head out a side door of the house and out into the maze of Vacuo streets. As they walk, Blake keeps an eye on their surroundings—not out of fear so much as not wanting to get lost and have to call Qrow or someone else to find them. That would be embarrassing and would completely defeat the purpose of slipping out to talk. The Vacuo streets, of course, aren’t entirely deserted but are quiet enough that they’ll see if anyone’s trying to eavesdrop.

“So that… is actually Professor Ozpin?” Velvet asks after a few moments.

“Yeah,” Blake says. “Although I wouldn’t really dignify him with the office of professor these days.”

Velvet nods. “He seems… a bit less put together than he did at Beacon.”

“Dying, reincarnating, having all your dirty laundry aired, and then being forcibly yanked out of the body of the kid you reincarnated into will do that to you.” Blake considers this for a moment. “Honestly, I’m not entirely sure why Ruby insisted we bring him here with us. Probably just to keep him away from Atlas, if I had to guess. I’m… not entirely sure I’m on board with her idea there, but I’ll let her try if she wants to.”

“How are things, in Atlas? You all… glossed over that part, a bit.”

“That would be because so much has happened,” Blake says wryly. “There’s a new general, a new headmaster, you remember that revolutionary group from before the White Fang got like that? Vox Faunus? They came back.”

Velvet grimaces. “I hope they didn’t try to hurt you.”

“No! No. Of course they didn’t. They…”

Blake remembers Eudico, trying her best even when she’d given up on Vox herself. Ticker, relentlessly optimistic even though she didn’t have half the fighting capabilities of the others. Little Duck, best described as a moderately bitter force of chaos. And of course, Biz, who none of them had fully realized was that Theodore until he got put in charge of the academy in Atlas.

“They were really helpful, actually,” Blake says at last. “I don’t think half of us would be here now without them. I know I wouldn’t.”

“Oh.” Velvet clearly wasn’t expecting that. “That’s… good? How about the White Fang, they couldn’t… follow you into Atlas, could they?”

Velvet, you have no idea. 

“The Atlas branch wasn’t anywhere near as bad as the one… well, the one I was in. My…” Blake’s ears go flat against her head. “The bastard who corrupted the White Fang and was the reason I ran tried to chase me after what happened at Haven. Yang and I… killed him.”

Or at least, she’d thought she and Yang killed him, but they’d actually killed the other abusive piece of shit he’d gained as an ally. But it doesn’t really matter, in the end, given how similar the two were and how he’s also dead now. Thanks, Margulis. 

“Ooooh, did I tell you about my girlfriends?” Blake interrupts.

“Girl friends? Multiple?” Velvet lets out a low whistle. “Lucky you. I’m going to take a wild guess that Yang is one of them.”

“My whole team,” Blake says proudly. “We’re all dating each other. Well, except Ruby and Yang.”

“Understandable,” Velvet agrees. “I’m… well, I’m not dating my whole team, but! Coco and I are!” She beams and continues, “I love her. A lot.”

“I can relate. Congrats!”

“You too! You’ve got like… three times the girlfriend!” Velvet’s grin grows a little. “I’m so glad you’re doing well. After the Fall of Beacon, when you just…”

“You can say I ran away.”

“Left,” Velvet says with a shrug. “I was really worried. We all were. I heard from Sun that you were back with your team and doing better, but you know, Sun is… Sun.”

“Not the most reliable of sources?”

Velvet snickers. “Yeah. His team showed up in the middle of the second semester, which would have been fine given the whole Beacon-and-now-Haven situation, except he didn’t have any transcripts for this year at Haven. He’s lucky he even got let in. Apparently he was getting seriously questioned about any connection to—well, I guess in retrospect that would be more Salem than Cinder.”

“He really thought that Sun would be working with Cinder? Sun?” Blake snorts. “What I would give to see the look on his face.”

Velvet winks. “That could be arranged. Scarlet took a video.”

“Oh my gods, please let me see that.”

The two faunus head back to the house from there, but not before Velvet pulls up a certain video on her scroll. It’s just as priceless as Blake expected—although that does beg the question of whether or not Sun and his team should be involved in this at all.

For now, Blake decides against it. If they need more allies, they can bring them in too—but they’re already treading on thin enough ice with Ozbot, and Blake would be lying if she said she wouldn’t prefer that Sun doesn’t know she’s in Vacuo for just a little bit longer.

It’s a pleasant night beneath the stars, here on the roof of some building whose purpose Pyrrha doesn’t know, and doesn’t much care to learn. After the panic this morning, relieved nonetheless as Avantus seemed to be just fine, it’s good to have a moment to relax. 

And the stars themselves are just so much more visible here, compared to Atlas. There’s light pollution from the city, sure, but the sky is just so wide and empty here, in the middle of the vast desert. There are no clouds to block the view, only a direct look to the broken moon, the stars, and whatever else might lie beyond. 

Of course, stargazing is not typically something to do alone – and Pyrrha isn’t. She can’t be, now. There may be only a single body up here, but where she goes, Jaune is always right there with her. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she murmurs aloud. Neither of them really needs to make a sound to speak with the other, but it just feels proper to act like Jaune is laying beside her in an entirely separate form. 

“Yeah,” comes the response from inside. It sounds almost like her own thought, but directed, with a sense of otherness to it that marks the word as Jaune’s. “You don’t get views like this in Atlas.”

“I was just thinking the same thing. Unless I was just thinking it because you were thinking it?”

“Were you also thinking about how if we tried this in Atlas, we’d freeze?”

Pyrrha laughs. “Not quite, but, yes, there’s that too.” 

Jaune’s internal voice is silent for a while, then, “I kind of wish Ren and Nora were here. This is nice, and all, but it just feels like… we haven’t really had a chance to celebrate having the whole team together again. With the rebuilding in Atlas, coming here, and then everything that’s been happening…”

“Penny did bake that celebratory cake for our team,” Pyrrha points out. “Though I’ve got to say, she’s not much of a baker. But it’s the thought that counts.”

A different feeling makes its way into Pyrrha’s mind, not a directed thought-message. Maybe not something directed to her at all, just something Jaune happened to be experiencing a little strongly. Even with them both staying firmly separate souls, Oscar’s experience of drawing on his headmate’s knowledge has been a common occurrence between Jaune and Pyrrha as well. 

“Is that…” Pyrrha begins, then stops herself. Is it really her place to comment? Probably not, but anything unresolved could affect her too, so… “Do you have a crush on Ren?”

Instantly she’s almost overwhelmed with embarrassment as Jaune, too flustered to speak, projects uncontrolled bursts of emotion in place of words. 

“Okay, yeah, you definitely have a crush on Ren.”

“What? No! Of course not, how could I have…”

Pyrrha sends him the mental equivalent of a knowing smirk. “It’s okay, you’ll figure it out. You’re just not used to being interested in a boy, that’s all. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“But… I…”

“Jaune… I know what it feels like to have a crush on a boy. Trust me on this. That’s what it feels like, and it’s not coming from me.” Her words don’t seem to be calming him at all, so she tries again. “Really, it’s fine. Just look at Team RWBY, they’re all girls interested in girls. You can like boys too.”

“I mean, yeah, I – I know that. I’ve got a sister who’s married to another woman. Maybe more than one sister by now, I don’t know. It’s just…” Whatever he wanted to say, the words don’t come. 

“You clearly know it,” Pyrrha points out. “Denying things won’t help. How long have you been interested in him?”

“Uhh… Since Atlas? No, maybe…” Jaune’s thoughts come across in a more orderly fashion now, but he’s still radiating excess emotion that he can’t quite hold to himself. “On the train,” he says finally. “When I linked my aura to Ren’s. Every time I do that I get this sort of sense of what it’s like to be that person, or be really close with them. Not even close to what we have now, sharing a body and all, but… it made an impression on me, I guess.”

“And then, in Atlas, being with him while everyone else was split up and lost…”

“Ren was stability,” Jaune admits. “Solid, unshakable, always there. I think I understand what Nora sees in him now.”

“Have you–” Pyrrha almost doesn’t ask, given how obvious the answer is. “Have you told Ren any of this?”

“Of course not!” Exactly the answer Pyrrha expected. “I don’t want to make things weird, or bother him with any of this.” In a quieter mind-voice, Jaune continues, “I was trying not to bother myself with it either…”

This only gets him a laugh. There’s no use trying to shove feelings down, especially not for someone they both see every day. There has to be a resolution, one way or another, and Pyrrha is happy to tell him that as many times as it takes to get through. He certainly missed enough hints of the romantic sort when they were back at Beacon. 

Pyrrha pulls the body up to a sitting position to gaze out over the rooftops, while Jaune frantically tries to come up with any reason not to have to express himself. 

“I can’t just tell Ren I have a crush on him! What would he think of me? Besides, he has Nora!”

Pyrrha gives him a mental side-eye. “Once again, you might look at Team RWBY’s example. All four of them are dating each other. Ren has two hands. So does Nora, if you’re so inclined.”

“But… but he’s my teammate!”

Perfect. Jaune’s backed himself into exactly the rhetorical corner she wanted him in. With a smile that even reaches their shared physical face, Pyrrha asks, “And I’m not?”

And the flustered feelings are back, even more intense than before. Pyrrha finds herself embarrassed secondhand over a crush that not only isn’t hers, but is actually directed at her to begin with. 

“You…” Jaune starts to speak again, and Pyrrha suddenly gets the urge to hide her face in her hands. If Jaune had control of the body, he certainly would. “You must… also feel my… other feelings, then?”

“For me?” Pyrrha grins wider. “Of course.”

“Can you… do that with everything?” Jaune doesn’t even wait for an answer before falling back into embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. Since, well, you don’t really – or at least, I can’t feel a – I mean, you did kiss me that once, but – what I mean is–”

“Jaune,” Pyrrha interrupts, aloud again. “I like you too. I always have. That hasn’t changed just because I died and now we’re sharing a body.”

Jaune seems too stunned for words, so she continues. “I just have a bit more practice interpreting mental bleedover than you do, from being in Cinder’s head for so long.”

“You… do?”

“Jaune… thinking once more about Team RWBY’s example… is there anything you’d like to ask me?”

“Um. Right. So. If you…” Jaune pauses to collect his thoughts. “Pyrrha, would you do me the incredible honor of going out with me?”

Now it’s Pyrrha’s turn to broadcast emotion to her headmate, only partially on purpose. “Yes!” she practically shouts. “Yes, I will!”

“Like, in a dating sense,” Jaune tries to clarify. “Since, obviously, anywhere out I go, you’re sort of along for the ride anyway…”

“I know what you mean.” Pyrrha pulls herself to her feet and steps up to the edge of the rooftop. “So, boyfriend Jaune… ready to head home and say that exact same thing to Ren?”

“Uhh… I’m not too sure…”

“Too bad. Body’s mine. We’re going.” And with that, Pyrrha draws her spear and leaps off the side of the building. 

Councilwoman Ozma yawns as she dials the number for Shade Academy, then the headmaster’s extension. The man known to all of Vacuo as Theodore Berzins picks up immediately.

“Headmaster Berzins,” she begins immediately. Her lips curl into a smile at her own private joke. “Do you have plans for tomorrow? Say, at about… nine o’clock in the morning?”

The question is a matter of formality. Teshin does not have anything planned concerning her, and if he has anything else planned, it will be canceled or rescheduled soon.

“I do not,” Teshin replies. “What may I do for you?”

“I’m calling an emergency meeting of the Vacuo Council. I expect you to be there.”

The continuation of I expect you to vote correctly goes unspoken, for it does not need to be spoken and it wouldn’t do for anyone listening in on his end to find out about him too early.

“Of course.”

Ozma hangs up without saying goodbye. Another yawn escapes her as she prepares to call their oh so supportive General’s private line. She does so, providing him with the bare minimum of information, and then follows suit with Councilman Karishh.

Tuvul is untrusting, but agrees—he doesn’t need a reminder of what could come out rather messily if he doesn’t. Karishh is the difficult one, but even he assents. She did tell him it’s an emergency, after all… even if it can wait until tomorrow morning. 

Then, at last, Ozma calls her dear Avantus.

“Good evening,” Ozma says. Her smile now is genuine.

“Good evening,” echoes the woman who, as far as any nosy visiting huntsmen are concerned, is nothing out of the ordinary. “Tomorrow?”

“Nine o’clock.”

“Nine o’clock. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Ozma stays on that call for much longer than she does with any of the other council members, and for good reason. Her newly cooperative Avantus, after all, is someone she knows she can depend on.

Chapter Text

In the Council chambers, the five leaders of the Kingdom of Vacuo file in one by one to take their places. The Headmaster of Shade, Theo Berzins – or the man passing himself off as such. General Tuvul, head of the armed forces, such as they are, a much less influential position than its equivalent in Atlas. And the three at-large Councilors, elected by the people: Ozma Vermilion, Pearl Avantus, and Jasper Karishh. 

“Good, we’re all here.” Ozma sets down her purse on the floor beside her seat. Beside her, Avantus does the same, while the other three came empty-handed. Ozma taps a few buttons on the table’s holographic screen. “Let it be recorded that this meeting of the Vacuo Council began at… nine oh two in the morning, and let the proceedings be taken down officially in writing.”

With those commands entered, the computers will record every word spoken and every vote taken into the central database, to be kept, deleted, or made public at the Council’s later discretion. 

“You mind telling us what this so-called emergency meeting is about?” Tuvul asks. “Since, you know, don’t really see much of an emergency. There something out there I should be mobilizing for?”

“Oh, more than you know, but an army can’t fight it.” Ozma exchanges a quick glance across the table with Teshin, then gives a calm smile to the group. “The reason I wanted a full meeting is to get your opinions on an idea I had.”

“And it just couldn’t wait?” Karishh, a rather rotund man who looks like he skipped his morning coffee, covers his mouth as he yawns. 

“It could not.” Ozma rests her elbows on the table and clasps her hands together. “I propose a motion to this Council, for immediate consideration… to abolish this Council and place full powers in the office of Queen, with this position first occupied by Councilwoman Ozma Vermilion.”

“What?!” Avantus slaps a hand on the table and glares at Ozma, mouth hanging open with furious confusion. 

“You can not be serious,” Karishh echoes the sentiment. 

“She is.” Teshin’s forceful voice silences the mutters around the table. “And I second the motion. Let us vote.”

“I vote aye,” Ozma declares. Of course. 

“I also vote aye,” Teshin follows, ever the loyal servant. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Karishh asks. “Vote nay.”

Next up around the table is General Tuvul, looking more nauseous with each new vote before him. Ever since Ozma was elected the first time, almost twelve years ago, he’d been under her spell. The secrets he’d accumulated over a long career… the secrets she’d found out, somehow, within mere months of appearing on the kingdom’s stage… 

Tuvul can feel the stares of his fellow Councilors burning into him. This mad power grab has two votes already out of the three it needs. He’s fallen in line with Her Eminence’s wishes on more occasions than he’d like to remember, but this? Abolishing the Council is beyond the pale. And if he breaks with his orders, just this once… the future of Vacuo is worth more than his own life. 

“Nay,” he declares, with a voice not even as shaky as he’d anticipated. “I vote nay.”

He looks to Avantus. She’ll understand his sacrifice. How Tuvul found his spine again just when it mattered most, so that she can then finish the job and shut this blatant coup down. 

Avantus doesn’t return his gaze. She takes her time, and leans down to pick up her purse and set it in her lap. Then, finally, she sits up straight and says, loudly, “Aye.”

Ozma stands. “Well, I do believe that settles it. Motion passes. I give my thanks to the body formerly known as the Council of Vacuo for graciously appointing me to be our kingdom’s leader.” She taps a button on the table to stop the official recording there. 

“Avantus, what have you done?” Tuvul hisses. 

Avantus stands as well, closely followed by the others. She and Ozma reach into their purses in unison and each retrieves a small vial of kuva. They make eye contact with Teshin across the table, and he silently turns and steps out of the room. 

“It’s a shame you chose this moment to be brave,” Ozma purrs. “You could have been useful to me. Or… to us.”

Avantus takes half a step to the side, and joins hands with Ozma. Then, slowly, gradually, her features shift, her hair lengthens, she loses two inches of height, until what appears before the terrified General and ex-Councilman is a perfect copy of Ozma herself, identical in all but clothing. 

“My name is Astra,” she says, and wraps an arm around Ozma’s waist. “And I think the two of us will make a wonderful Queen, don’t you?”

Ozma returns the embrace, and leans her head on Astra’s shoulder. “Of course we will.”

Karishh’s face is turning redder by the moment. “You replaced her with a shapeshifter?! How long? How long have you been plotting this?”

Astra grins. “Plotting it? I’m not sure you really want to know. But if you mean Avantus, don’t worry… we only got to her just the other day.” She steps away from Ozma and holds her vial of oily liquid up to the light. “I suppose we should finish up here.”

“Agreed.” Together, the Queens hold out their vials and activate the liquid dust within. Red and black swirls around their hands, and lances forward to strike both Tuvul and Karishh. They both drop to their hands and knees, clutching at their heads in agony, while Ozma carefully reaches into her purse again without losing her beam’s contact with Karishh. 

She draws out a tightly coiled whip, lined with razor-sharp blades down its length, with a heavier bladed object at the tip. Ozma stalks across the room to Karishh’s side, finally cuts off the connection of kuva, and with aura shielding her hands she wraps the bladed wire tightly around his neck and pulls. 

Tuvul falls the same way a moment later. And with the dissenters dealt with, the Queens’ rise to absolute power complete, there’s nothing left to do but celebrate. 

Ozma discards the whip on the table, and accepts a close embrace from her lookalike as they both stand in a growing puddle of blood. “An excellent performance, as always,” she whispers, the pair gently swaying back and forth in each others’ arms. 

“You flatter me.” Astra grins. “Do continue.”

Ozma only pulls her tighter for a moment, then twists away. She raises the vial of kuva again, part of its contents spent in the earlier assault, and pops the cap off with her thumb. Astra does the same with hers, and together they tilt their heads back and swallow the remaining kuva. 

The glass teardrops slip from their fingers and shatter on the floor as both Queens find themselves lightheaded, and they cling to each other for support. Bright red aura pulses over both their bodies, near-identical shades of scarlet and sanguine, flickering and flowing uncontrolled around each form. 

And then, all further cares put off, the pair of them pull together in a single motion to join in a kiss. The aura surrounding them shifts and the two shades of red each leak partly into the other as Astra and Ozma sink to their knees in the pool of blood. 

Publicizing the Council’s proceedings can wait. Ruling Vacuo, together, either as one public face or as two, that honor lays before them for a lifetime. 

Right now, the Twin Queens’ only care is for each other. 

Well shit. That sure ain’t good. 

Nora had a bad feeling about things ever since the very first hint of a plot against Avantus. Her repeated checking in, burning through precious photos of Her Eminence, that was supposed to keep her safe. But somehow, even with the whole team armed and ready, Ozma had still gotten to her. Blackmailed her, mind-controlled her, anything to make her vote against the very future of the kingdom. 

She’d tapped out of the spy semblance the moment Her Eminence declared a victory. No need to watch what happens next. There’s only one way that could have ended. 

Instead, Nora pulls out her scroll. It’s not quite the traditional method of getting her word out to those who need it, but this is an emergency. It’ll have to do. A text message is faster than interpreting a broadcast, even more so when it’s just a list of highlights that goes directly to Xuri Lumen herself. 

“Urgent. Council abdicating. Queen Ozma. Avantus compromised. Destroy records before it’s public. Prepare for Grimm. Get Julie on standby.”

“On my way with Eve,” comes the quick reply. “Jade will pick up Ozpin’s group. And some other friends, she says.”

“You do that. Stop the queen. I’ll take care of the headmaster.” 

Nora collapses her scroll again and picks up the dark crystal sword that rests against the side of her desk. Flash and bite, indeed. Time to lay ‘em low and burn their shadows.

“We have news,” Emerald announces breathlessly as the door swings shut behind her and Mercury. “Hazel? You here?”

Hazel steps out of another room and takes a seat on the living room couch. Mercury does the same opposite him, while Emerald herself stays fixed where she is. 

“Good. We missed each other last night, but this is important. We found it. That address you gave us was a warehouse and we got in, yesterday and today, as new workers. They’ve been building something big. It’s more than enough. It’s not even done yet and it’s more than enough.”

“What exactly is it?” Hazel asks, still perfectly calm. How he does that Emerald has never known, but there’s no way he’ll stay impassive through all of her news. 

Emerald finally steps forward, but still can’t quite bring herself to sit down. “They call it the Fomorian. Big as an Atlesian carrier airship, with probably ten times the power. We got there just in time for a test firing of its big laser, and it could already level a building in one shot. And it’s not even done!”

Hazel’s face shows interest, but neither the excitement nor alarm that she would have expected. He keeps his opinions to himself, though at least he has them. Unlike Mercury, passive as ever, just an empty mind waiting to be given orders. 

“A shame we’ve lost Dr. Watts, then.” he says. “We may take control of it another way, or simply manipulate its owners into pointing it where we want it.”

“Or just let them go where they want,” Mercury comments. “The target they shot up yesterday was a big banner with Vale’s emblem. They want to destroy that shithole, I say we let them.”

Emerald glares at him. “Our mission is here. Though I do wonder, why Vale?”

“Vale is the obvious choice for a group bent on conquest,” Hazel rumbles. “They’re still weak after what you and Cinder did there. It’s the only other kingdom accessible by land. And, as Mercury pointed out… given whose kingdom that is, they might not face opposition from Her Grace.”

Mercury leans back with his hands behind his head. “So, what do we do about it?”

Before the senior agent and de facto leader can answer, there’s a knock at the front door. Emerald and Mercury look to each other. They weren’t followed, right? Nobody at the Fomorian construction site had visibly suspected them of being anything other than new Grineer recruits. 

Hazel goes to answer it, leaving the two of them out of sight around a corner. The knock comes again, more insistent, before he even gets there to see who it is. 

Who it is, apparently, is one of his coworkers from the job he never should have been allowed to hold. The instructor for faunus history and combat seminars, to his Grimm studies basic and advanced. A woman he’s become reasonably friendly with, and who he suspects is connected to the Summer Maiden – which is, of course, even more reason to become friendly. 

“Professor Goldwing,” he greets the visitor, as warmly as he can muster at the moment. 

“Professor Rainart,” the winged woman in gold responds, and grabs him by the arm to forcefully drag him outside. “Hazel. We’ve got a problem, and based on the handful of times we’ve spoken about it I am reasonably confident I can count on your help.” She glances around at the empty street. “You’re no ally of the Crown, are you?”

So that’s what this is all about. Vacuo’s aspiring dictator has done something new. “I am not,” Hazel says. 

“Good. I’ve got a team who’s been resisting Her Eminence for years.” Jade looks around again, clearly agitated, then reaches behind Hazel to push the door to the house shut. “She’s just overthrown the Council and the moment the public knows about it, we’ll be up to our ears in Grimm. I’m gathering some friends to fight back, and I thought of you. You in?”

A team of resistors? Who have operated for years without being crushed? Well, that certainly sounds like a Maiden if Hazel’s ever heard of one. She’s made comments before that suggested she might know about magic, but this seems like a final confirmation. And in that case, gaining a stronger contact with the target overshadows any potential acts he might be asked to take against the goal tonight. 

“I’ll help,” Hazel says. “Do you have a plan?”

Jade’s face lights up with a grin. “Glad to have you with us! No plan until we know a little more, but there’s a few other people I want to pick up before it gets crazy out here. Come on.”

She grabs Hazel’s arm again and leads him down the front steps. Hazel spares a glance back at the house where Emerald and Mercury are probably wondering what’s going on, but he can’t afford to open his scroll and let his newfound ally know that others are inside. It would look strange for a professor and two students to be living together, after all. 

And so, apparently, they’re off to meet some of Goldwing’s other friends before the Grimm descend on Vacuo. It’s a good thing Hazel’s pockets are already full of dust. At the rate Jade is moving, if he went back to refill his supply he’d lose her before he returned. 

The screech of tires on pavement heralds the Summer Maiden’s arrival at the central government hall of Vacuo. Xuri and Eve leap out of their car and slam the doors behind them, matching white capes billowing in the wind as they sprint across the street toward the Council building. 

But as they ascend the steps out front, the glass doors open ahead of them, and out steps exactly the person they’ve come to see. Councilwoman Ozma, as she’s been known for the past twelve years… as she should continue to be known until the elections at the end of this year, and no further. Not as Queen. 

“Well, if it isn’t the magical girl herself,” Ozma crows. “How nice of you to join me on this, the day of my ascension!”

“There’s not going to be an ascension,” Xuri calls back. “Vacuo has a Council, not a monarch. Not even you can overturn that.”

“A Council? No, I’m afraid it’s too late for that.” Ozma slowly descends a few stairs, and then stops again. “There is only the Queen, and everyone will know it. Just as soon as I take this–” She holds up a portable hard drive between two fingers. “To the CCT for publication.”

Xuri hefts her weapon: a hand-and-a-half sword with a channel cut down the middle to form the metal into two prongs, its ornate hilt inlaid with a rainbow of tiny dust canisters in easy reach of her fingers. She presses the red button and with a wordless cry, swings the sword in a wide arc. 

The channel in her sword fills with red as dust is released into it, and a swathe of fire slings off the tip of the weapon as it moves. Ozma leaps over it and forward down the stairs, whip uncoiling as she moves, and as she lands she rolls and sends the bladed wire swinging at both Xuri and Eve’s ankles. 

Eve draws her glaive in an instant and stabs it into the pavement to catch the whip before it slices into her, and as it wraps around and around she gets a better look at the device at its end. Unsurprisingly, it’s covered in more blades. But these are arranged in a circular pattern, many layers of them, and as Ozma sends a ripple down the whip to dislodge it, a tiny motor kicks on and makes the rings of blades whirl rapidly in alternating directions. 

“You know, since you’re right here, maybe being recognized as Queen can wait,” Ozma jeers. “I do still need to get magic for myself, after all. And I know how it’s transferred!”

Eve sprints forward and slashes, tangling up the long whip again even as the whirling blender on the end narrowly misses her shoulder, and once inside Ozma’s range she pivots and lands a solid kick to the chest. “You will not become the Summer Maiden. Now or ever.”

“Aww, Xuri, still relying on your mother to protect you?” Ozma steps out into the road as she taunts, and waves to a passing car. 

Xuri’s only response is to grit her teeth and light up the channel in her sword with yellow. She points it like a wand and lightning bolts fire from the tip, one after another, leaving blackened spots on the street and stairs as her enemy expertly weaves around. 

The next crack of the whip comes directly at her, and Xuri swings an arc of wind dust into its path. But the weight at the end proves too much to deflect and Xuri takes a pack of spinning blades to the stomach, and goes flying back under the impact. She flips in midair and digs her sword into the sidewalk to slow her progress. 

Meanwhile, Eve turns her glaive backward and shifts its form slightly to open up a gun barrel in the handle, and she takes potshots at Ozma to keep her moving, giving Xuri the time she needs to recover. 

Ozma alters her path to take her back past the purse she’d dropped at the top of the stairs, and she cartwheels over it to grab a small vial of liquid from its interior without losing momentum. The substance inside is clear and lightly fizzing, and she gives it a harder shake as she sends the whip back toward Eve once more. 

“Not even going to use the magic you have?” she calls. “Afraid I’ll steal it just by looking at you?”

“Magic is for dealing with things huntress skills can’t,” Xuri yells back. “You’re not worth it!”

Ozma throws the vial at her. Xuri sidesteps, and she and Eve both watch it fall – as far as dangerous attacks go, that doesn’t seem to be much of a threat. But Ozma slings her whip forward again not at either of them, but scores a direct hit on the glass container instead. The vial shatters and liquid sprays, helped along by the spinning blades. Xuri and Eve are both splattered down their sides, and whatever that substance is, it burns.  

“Now that’s just cheap,” Xuri mutters to herself. “Fine!” she calls. “You want to see magic so bad, here it is!” She sheaths her blade, and presses one last button on its hilt to cancel the fire dust infusion within. 

Xuri closes her eyes and takes a deep breath as she rises a foot off the ground. One hand still resting on the pommel of her sword, she sweeps the other outward and the ground erupts with pillars of flame. One after another, always exactly beneath Ozma’s feet, until finally she fails to evade one and falls back against the stairs in pain. 

Immediately Eve charges her with her glaive. Xuri as well drops back to the ground and comes in close with her sword again, and an uppercut with violet dust sends Ozma off balance again before she can even stand. 

Just then, a voice blares from the loudspeakers at each corner of the building, and the announcement billboard at one side lights up with a video feed of the Council chamber. Ozma takes advantage of her opponents’ surprise to free herself and gain some distance, while her own voice projects from up above. 

“I propose a motion to this Council… to abolish this Council and place full powers in the office of Queen, with this position first occupied by Councilwoman Ozma Vermilion.” The screen then cuts immediately to a series of short clips of each Councilor in turn, each saying a single word: two ayes, two nays, and another aye. 

“What?” Eve stares up at the billboard in shock as the recorded Ozma declares the passing of her proposal. 

The real Councilwoman Ozma – or Queen Ozma, as every public screen in the kingdom is now declaring – only grins and backs away. “Oh, did I neglect to mention I made copies?” She retrieves the thumb drive from a pocket and tosses it into the air, where it is quickly shredded by a flick of her whip. 

“Thank you both for being so cooperative and staying right here where I could keep an eye on you,” she continues. “Truly a wonderful job of wasting time. Well done. But, I do believe I’ll be going now. I have royal duties to attend to, after all!”

She throws her whip upward and hooks it around a lamppost to pull herself up. Xuri throws a lightning bolt after her, but in moments she’s cast the whip again and grappled to a third floor balcony. Xuri starts up the main stairs, but Eve throws out an arm in front of her. 

“It’s too late. Let her go.” Eve folds her glaive again and stows it across her back. “Save your effort for the Grimm that are coming.”

Ruby hasn’t run like this in years. When she needs to move quickly it’s usually in the middle of a fight, and never a long distance. She can use her semblance for that. Crossing a large chunk of Vacuo just isn’t something she’s ever trained for. And from the few glances she can spare toward her teammates, Weiss and Yang aren’t particularly good at distance running either. 

But they have to get home to the others, and public transit is out of the question. After that announcement, everything will be far too crowded to use. This was supposed to be a nice, calm day, with Avantus safe and contact with the Summer Maiden finally getting off the ground. And then it wasn’t. 

How long has it been, really, since Ruby or any of them had to travel this far in a hurry? Is the last time really Beacon initiation, when eight not-yet-friends sprinted for the cliffs with two giant Grimm in close pursuit? 

The giant Grimm aren’t here… yet. This is deathstalker territory though, along with who knows what other unique forms of desert monstrosities are out there beyond the walls. 

“Ruby?” Just as the team turns onto the last street leading up to Ozbot’s safehouse, someone calls her name. Or her team’s name, it’s impossible to tell. 

Ruby slows and her teammates stay with her, coming to rest at a street corner. There are two people there, looking like they too were walking quickly to a destination before catching sight of this team. The rather distinctive looking Professor Goldwing who Team JNPR had told her about, and… 

“Hazel?”

Jade glances back and forth between the four girls and the large man beside her. “You know each other?”

Seeing the two of them side by side, Ruby echoes the sentiment. “You know each other?”

Not to be left out, Hazel gives a suspicious look toward Jade. “You know each other?”

“Do you know who he works for?” Weiss asks the firefly faunus. 

“Do you know who they work for?” Hazel asks her before she can answer. 

Jade once again looks between her companion and the team she was intending to meet, more unsure of herself with every passing moment. 

“We don’t work for him anymore,” Yang jumps in. “If anything, he works for us.”

“So I’ve been told,” Hazel rumbles. He isn’t reaching into his pockets for dust crystals, so that’s probably a good sign? 

Ruby steps out in front of her team and addresses Hazel in particular. “We didn’t expect to meet you here,” she begins, with as neutral a tone as she can hope for. “But I’m curious as to why you’re with Ms. Goldwing.”

“We were looking for you and your friends,” Jade says. “I’m sure you’ve heard about the Council? No doubt there’s Grimm incoming, so I grabbed Professor Rainart and came to find people I figured we could trust to help. Didn’t realize you’d already met.”

“No need to get into any of that,” Ruby says. “My team would be happy to help. Hazel, if you’d come over here a moment…” She steps to the side, away from the others. 

Hazel’s eyes narrow but he complies, and comes to stand next to Ruby. She pulls off the long red glove over her right hand, and concentrates on the memory of receiving her seer from Salem. The feeling of controlling it, of making a call to another jellyfish somewhere else in the world…

Over the back of her hand, Salem’s emblem appears in translucent deep red. The miniscule droplet of magic she was granted extends only enough to link into the Grimm glove fused with her skin, no further, but that alone can show a visible sign of Salem’s favor. 

“Hmm.” Hazel nods, and holds up his own hand where the same emblem dimly pulses. “We may speak later; you know how to contact me. For now, let the six of us work together against the latest madness this kingdom has produced.”

“Agreed.” Ruby lets the hint of magic fade and puts her glove back on. “One of you text our friends, tell them we’re heading out with Professor Goldwing to…” 

“There’s been some suspiciously palace-like construction lately on the north side,” Jade supplies. 

“To the north side of the city,” Ruby finishes. “We’ll deal with the Grimm, and if we get a chance to go after Her Eminence too, we take it. Together we can put an end to this, all of it.”

What has he done? Teshin paces back and forth in front of a narrow alleyway in a deserted corner of Vacuo. This isn't good. Not in the slightest. 

Of all the stupid decisions he’s made in his life, he’d thought deserting from Salem’s service would remain the worst. That one’s certainly worse than his dumb idea to join her in the first place. For more than a decade now he’s had a target on his back, saved only by his Grineer allies and Vacuo’s relative unimportance compared to Vale. 

But throwing his lot in with the Grineer may have just doomed him even more surely. How long could he last on the run from Her Grace? A while, probably, if he kept away from all her other goals. But how long will he survive now that he no longer has a vote on the Council to barter for his life with Her Eminence? 

The Grineer may have less staying power than Salem in the grand scheme of things, but they have a lot more bodies and a lot more guns in the present. Not that Teshin is considering deserting them too, of course not. Queen Ozma has no reason to replace the Headmaster of Shade. But she also has no solid reason not to, now. 

Someone’s approaching from the shadows. Someone tall, with an outline masked by a heavy coat a few sizes too big, and with the distinct clinking sound of a single metal foot. Good. That’s who he’s here to meet. 

“So, Headmaster Dax, huh?” The tall woman steps into the main street, slightly better illuminated now despite the tall buildings around. “I hear you want to do business with the great Kela de Thaym.”

“Keep your voice down!” Teshin hisses. “I’m Headmaster Berzins here. You can’t just let some random passerby know.”

“Bit hard with a semblance like mine,” Kela proclaims, still louder than Teshin would like. “I’m eyecatching, you see. People love me. They follow me. All the time, so I don’t even have to think about it.”

“Handy trick, but it would be nice if you could turn it off,” Teshin grumbles. “Wait, how’d you even know who I am, anyway? No one outside Grineer command should know. And you’re not even with the Grineer at all, right?”

Kela winks at him. “Seems a few do know. But I’ve got no one to tell, don’t worry. So what’s all this about?”

“That fight club you run in the old mine. I’ve overheard some of my students talking about it. Rathuum?” Teshin still paces back and forth as he speaks. “Look, I’m not in a great spot right now. I just lost my job security. If shit hits the fan and the Queen wants me gone, I’d like to have some of your fighters at my back.”

“My executioners, going up against the Crown? That’s not going to come cheap. You got anything to offer?”

“I do, actually. More fighters, good ones, and available full-time if you get what I mean.” Now that’s gotten Kela’s interest, all right. Good. He may have a deal after all. “A group of young huntsmen arrived recently and Her Eminence takes issue with their adult chaperone. If a few of them were to disappear…”

A smile spreads across Kela’s face. “Huh, I guess you do have something valuable… if you can tell me how to nab them without risking my own people.”

“I can. I had Rumpole bug their house, told her a different old enemy had stationed agents there. They’re preparing for Grimm after the Queen’s ascension, and I know where they’re going and in what size groups.” Teshin looks both ways down the deserted street. “Should be any time now. I bet the Grimm are already at the outer walls.”

Teshin pulls out his scroll and loads a file. A collection of audio snippets, pasted together as a summary of everyone’s movements. Kela brings out hers as well, and with a tap of the two scrolls together, the file is shared. Kela taps her screen to play the first few seconds, and once she’s satisfied, she nods and pockets the device. 

“You got a deal.” She holds out a hand and Teshin shakes it gladly. “However many new executioners I recruit tonight, I’ll have that many of my best fight for you if you need them.”

“Let’s hope it never comes to that.” Teshin glances up at the sky momentarily, looking for any sign of incoming ravagers or other Grimm. When he looks down again, Kela is already gone.

Chapter Text

Pyrrha Nikos has never in her life, the one with her own body or the one without, been anything approaching subtle. And during the time in between those two lives, she learned a few things from the also profoundly unsubtle Cinder Fall. 

Things like how to annihilate Grimm with a streak of fire from a single pointed finger. 

“Wow,” Coco says. “I’m starting to like magic a lot more now that it’s not pointed at my team.”

“Sorry! It’s easy to get carried away.” Pyrrha waves her team and Coco’s over and leads the way toward the next nearest sounds of screaming. 

“Aren’t you worried about someone seeing your power?” Ren asks as they run. 

“Nope!” Pyrrha grins. “One thing I’ve learned is that you can pass just about anything off as a semblance. For example: Cinder using magic to turn ambient dust into black glass. No matter what people see, magic isn’t going to be anyone’s first guess at an explanation. Magic doesn’t exist, after all!”

To punctuate her statement, her eyes blaze with orange. She winks, and the Maiden fire is gone again.

“How easy is it to hide the… um,” Velvet considers how to word this and settles for, “eye fire? It’s connected to the magic thing, right?”

“Yep! And it really depends. It only shows up when you’re using magic, but if you’re careful, you can keep it from showing up at all.”

“Imagine being careful,” Nora pipes up cheerfully.

“I know, right?” Pyrrha laughs, but that’s cut off by the roar of a Grimm somewhere behind them. The group collectively groans.

“I’ve got that one.” Coco hefts her purse-slash-gatling-gun and turns. “Don’t wait up, this will be easy. I’ll catch up with you soon.”

And with that, the leader of Team CFVY runs—in heeled boots, no less—back the way they came. The main group, down one person, continues the way they were going.

“Be safe,” Velvet calls after her. 

Coco gives a thumbs-up without looking, and then the group is around the corner and she’s out of sight. 

“So where are we heading, anyway?” Fox asks. 

“Well, not north,” Nora says, before darting off toward a Grimm. 

Ren watches her smash her hammer through a pair of Grimm spiders, but stays with the rest. There aren’t enough for everyone to go after them at once. “We got that text from Yang, saying her team is heading up that way. We should probably split up to cover more ground.”

“But your team doesn’t know the city very well yet.”

“Right.” Ren glances up at a hint of movement in the corner of his eye, but whatever it was, Pyrrha sets it on fire before he can get a proper look. “But we can go wherever the Grimm are, and use our scrolls to get home afterward.”

Velvet joins them as well, looking a little nervous. “Who’d team RWBY say they were with, again? Goldwing and… someone they can’t bring home?”

“Yeah. I have a pretty good guess who that is. He and Ozpin… don’t get along.”

Nora’s voice sounds behind them and Velvet startles. “Ooh, you talking about mister big stabby dust man from Haven?” She crosses her arms and taps her fingers on the opposing biceps. “Why do they get to meet him here and not us? Just ‘cause we fought each other once, that doesn’t mean I can’t learn how to fight like him!”

Pyrrha and Yatsu wave the rest onward, and the two teams keep moving. “Jaune says the last time you tried to copy his style, you couldn’t pick up a hammer for the next week.”

Nora pouts. “All the more reason to learn to do it better!”

“You guys,” Velvet interrupts. “Has anyone seen Coco?”

“She said she’d catch up.”

“Yes, but…” Velvet glances down each side street as the whole group gets farther and farther from the place they’d left their team leader. “She should be back by now. Where is she? I… I think we should look for her.”

Pyrrha’s eyes flash as she hands over control for a moment. “Sounds like a plan,” Jaune says. “We’ll keep heading this way. Your team can circle back, you pick up Coco, then head off the other way. Between us and RWBY, we’ll be patrolling a good chunk of the city.”

“Where should we meet up afterward?”

“Our place, with RWBY and Qrow and anyone else they want to bring home. Got to coordinate whatever we all find out tonight. And there’s spare beds too, if you don’t want to head back to Shade that late.” 

“Alright. See you guys later.” Velvet waves, apparently acting as interim team leader in her girlfriend’s absence, and Fox and Yatsu follow as she runs back the way they’d come. 

There’s nothing saying that Vacuo will return to a democratically-elected Council if the newly appointed Queen Ozma dies. But there’s also nothing saying that Vacuo won’t return to a democratically-elected Council if the newly appointed Queen Ozma dies. She was just appointed, after all—she won’t have had time to put any contingency plans in place yet.

Hopefully. For all they know, she’s had a stack of royal decrees pre-written for months, ready to send out the moment she had the power to do so. 

Her victory speech earlier today had certainly sounded rehearsed in advance. 

Okay, Vacuo probably won’t return to a democratically-elected Council if Ozma dies. Not immediately. But it’ll still throw a seriously big wrench in her whole group’s plans, the kind that’s nearly as heavy as Crescent Rose, if she does. And Ruby Rose is nothing if not a thrower of big wrenches into the plans of bad people.

Granted, she formerly would have considered one of the people she’s currently heading after Ozma with as one of those bad people, but times change, so do people, and if nothing else Hazel might appreciate beating the shit out of an Ozma, even if she isn’t the right Ozma.

Besides, she’s got her team with her too, and Jade, who seems nice! Besides, she’s part of Xuri’s group, and a professor. She can definitely be trusted.

“We’ve got Grimm on our tail,” Blake reports, ears angled behind them. She seems to realize what she’s said, sighs, and resigns herself to her fate. “Metaphorical tail, I mean.”

“Aww, Blake! You made a pun!” Yang shoots her a sunny grin. “Never knew you had it in you!”

“Yes you did,” Weiss counters.

“You absolutely did,” Ruby agrees.

Beside them, Jade clears her throat delicately. As delicately as one can when keeping up a rather fast pace to the north side of the city, in any case. “The Grimm?”

“Right,” Weiss decides. “Don’t really have time to kill them, so… Freezerburn?”

“Absolutely,” Yang agrees. “It’ll slow them down and then some. I bet Vacuo Grimm aren’t used to ice. Or steam, for that matter.”

Both girls stop and turn. With a swipe of Weiss’s rapier, the ground around them becomes an icefield. Yang pulls her gauntlets back, firing her fiery rockets. Steam billows up around them, obscuring them—and presumably the Grimm—from the temporarily formed and completely unofficial Team… RHJB? Rhubarb? That’s the best Ruby can come up with on short notice and honestly, it kind of sucks.

Ruby keeps running with the rest of the group, but she stops in her tracks when a scream comes from behind her. A familiar scream, one Ruby would know anywhere simply from how much its owner used to scream at her back at Beacon.

“Weiss!” She yells, turning back. 

But a hand is on her arm, keeping her from streaking back in a mass of rose petals. Hazel’s.

“We have to keep moving,” Hazel says gently, though he doesn’t look happy about this either.

“Ozma can fucking wait!” Ruby attempts to yank her arm away, but Hazel holds fast. “I’m not leaving my girlfriend and my other girlfriend’s girlfriend behind!”

The slightly confusing wording has its intended effect: Hazel is confused enough that she can break free and zoom back in a swarm of rose petals. Ruby rematerializes in the midst of the dissipating steam, looking around frantically—but there’s nothing. There is no sign of Weiss, or of Yang. Or even, strangely, the Grimm that Blake had heard.

“Weiss?” She calls, hands cupped around her mouth. “Yang!”

“Ruby!” Blake yells, and her head swivels. “Come back! I don’t want to lose you too!”

With one final look around, and one more angry glare at the burned-up ice, she catches up to the group. “What if they’re—”

“Look.” Blake shows Ruby her scroll. “Full aura. Or, well… close to full, not any less than it was ten minutes ago. Wherever they are, they’re fine.”

“But what if they aren’t?”

“I don’t think you understand just what is at stake here,” Jade says tersely. “If we don’t stop Ozma, if we don’t stop the Grineer? Vacuo, as we know it, is fucked. And what makes you think she’ll stop with just Vacuo?”

With one last, forlorn look at the last place she’d seen her teammates, Ruby nods. She tries her best to ignore the sinking feeling she’s got that she’ll never see either of them again, because that’s ridiculous. They’ve got full aura. They’ll be fine.

She isn’t entirely successful in ignoring that feeling. They weren’t exactly fine the last time the team was separated like this, but… at least Jacques is dead now. It’s not him, and the Grineer can’t be that much worse, right?

Right?

He’s here. That traitor to the people. That impostor. Teshin. 

He’s here, and so is his judgement, because his vote this morning was a step entirely too far. 

Nora holds her dark crystal blade ready as she steps out of the elevator. Nightwave, it’s called. Same as her radio station. The night part, at least, is fairly obvious. The wave, however… Well, hopefully she won’t need to use that here. 

Might as well get this show on the road. Nora raises her fist and bangs on the office door with the pommel of her blade. Without waiting for an answer, she throws the door open and strides in with her sword held ready. 

Teshin is there, rummaging through the drawers in his desk, and he startles and leaps for the bladed disk mounted on the wall behind him. “Who are you?” he demands. 

“Were you expecting a skeleton on horseback, carrying a scythe? Sorry to disappoint, but that old geezer retired and left the mantle of Death to me.” Nora whips out her scroll and snaps a few photos of his shocked and terrified face. “I do hope you’ve got your affairs in order?”

“If she wants me gone already, so be it,” Teshin hisses. “I’ve survived worse than her before. She knows that.”

“Oh, I ain’t with Her Eminence.” Nora advances, and wiggles her scroll between two fingers. “But thanks for saying that out loud. Who knows, maybe a recording could just happen to fall into her hands...”

It’s a bluff, but it has the desired effect. Teshin looks even more scared now that he’s let his lack of commitment slip. Scared is good. It means he’ll be sloppy when he fights, and Nora has no intention of letting him escape Vacuo like he deserted the master he had before. 

Nora smirks as she continues to advance one slow step after another. Then, the moment she’s in range, she dashes forward with a stab. 

Teshin parries with a swing of his disk, and a flick of one finger activates the dust within. The edge lights up with electricity all the way around, and Nora’s keen eyes pick out a few specks of purple around the disk as well.

Well. That shock won’t get through to her, not with a sword that ain’t made of metal. No problem. Nora trades blows carefully, watching every moment for an opportunity, and when Teshin overextends his reach just once…

She stabs her blade through the center of his bladed disk and pulls back, yanking him off balance. Her free hand comes up with a solid punch to Teshin’s chin, and dull blue-gray aura flares around the impact. 

Nora leans forward and steps one foot around behind Teshin, so that when she slams her shoulder into him he tips back onto the edge of his desk. She pulls her blade free and gets a few unguarded hits on his legs as she leaps back out of range again, and before Teshin is back on his feet she’s returned to a guard position. 

“Y’know, I thought headmasters were supposed to be good at what they teach,” Nora jeers. “But that’s right, you ain’t the rightful headmaster around here, are you? You’re just some nobody who stole a man’s name and his job, and even his tail, all so you could feel useful again.”

Teshin grits his teeth and with a wordless snarl, launches himself into a flurry of quick slashes of his disk. Nora blocks and slowly steps back, and when she’s ready, she accepts one strike to her forearm in order to slam down the dust-lined edge of her sword onto Teshin’s shoulder. Ice grows from the point of impact and Teshin’s arm locks up for a moment, allowing her to loop her entire arm through the center of the disk and wrench it out of his grasp. 

Teshin scrambles to put the large desk between him and his attacker, and he retrieves from the top drawer a single left glove inlaid with lines of purple. Dust, clearly, something he hadn’t had the chance to prepare before Nora barged in. Still circling the desk just out of reach, he pauses to slip it onto his hand.

Nora throws his own bladed disk at him. Teshin dodges, narrowly, and strangely enough doesn’t move to pick it up. Instead, he grabs a long curved sword off its wall mount and brings it to bear against Nora’s assault.

It looks like a mundane blade, without any alternate forms or even dust to fuel it, but the shape alone – a nikana, if she had to guess – makes it a better option for crossing with Nora.

And that’s unfortunate. She’d really prefer not to have to pull out any more tricks than she has to.

Teshin grabs his helmet as well and puts it on. It’s a strange shape, but maybe he makes a habit of headbutting his foes? He and Nora cross swords and gradually circle the room, and as Nora passes one of the windows she spares a glance out at the darkened city. Ravagers circle overhead, and in the distance she can make out the three long necks of a ziraph slowly circling the wall.

And then, suddenly, Teshin thrusts out his free hand toward her. The violet lines in his glove flare brighter and Nora braces herself and leans forward, expecting a telekinetic shove from the gravity dust within, but it never comes. Instead, the bladed disk Teshin had abandoned some time ago flies into the air from behind Nora and comes to rest hovering over her head, and then releases a discharge of electricity down through her entire body to the floor.

As Nora flinches and steps back to compose herself, the disk rejoins Teshin in his open hand and he continues to advance with both weapons at once. “So you may look like a shadow, but you’re not as untouchable as one,” he observes. “A pity. You could have been saved all the pain that’s coming.”

Nora wordlessly arches one eyebrow over the top of her sunglasses.

“The Queen gave me a gift, you see. Right in here.” Teshin taps at the ring around his helmet. “A vial of liquid agony.”

He takes a step back and frowns, focusing his willpower into whatever substance is stored within. Unsure of what’s coming, Nora takes the chance to rush him, batting his nikana out of the way and then bowling the man over with the sheer weight put behind her shoulder. A swipe of the disk keeps her from following Teshin down for a heavy stab, but she can still give him a swift kick to the groin.

Nora Night knows the laws of honorable one on one combat. And without fail, whenever she finds herself face to face with a member of the Crown, she chooses to ignore every single one.

Teshin reflexively curls in on himself, but he manages to throw his disk to keep Nora at bay for a moment and he scrambles to regain his feet. He focuses again, the strain evident on his face, but still Nora feels no effect. “Pain,” he mutters through gritted teeth. “From a distance, bypassing the body entirely. That’s what she said. Work, damn you!”

“Might not be my place to say,” Nora comments, “but I think she might have lied to you.”

By the growing look of terror on his face, Teshin seems to be coming to that realization himself. He calls the disk back to his hand, then throws it again – at the nearby window and through it. A running leap takes him headfirst through what remains of the glass, and he rolls out onto the roof of the ziggurat’s next floor down.

He wants more space, where he can make Nora follow him and maybe use the environment to his advantage. It’s too obvious. They’ll make a few laps around the top of the pyramid, he’ll gradually work his way down one level at a time, and then he’ll disappear on the city streets. And if that’s the inevitable conclusion to their battle, then…

Why not just skip to the end? Nora steps up to the window and the pair stare at each other for a moment, neither willing to make another move. Then Nora takes the blade of her sword in her other hand and pops the line of ice dust off, revealing an equally sharp edge of black crystal beneath, and she hangs the remaining part back on her belt.

A swipe of the raw dust ices over the shattered window with a solid layer, consuming much of the crystal’s power but locking Teshin out of his own office unless he forces his way back in. If he’s determined not to let Nora kill him tonight…

Plan B: steal his laptop and anything else that looks important, then get back to her studio and coordinate her team’s movements toward where they’ll be most needed.

As far as fighting the Grimm goes, Team JNPR is doing pretty well. They’d be doing pretty well even without Pyrrha setting everything dark and spiky in a twenty foot radius aflame, but with that, they’re actually making serious progress. Hence why they’re circling around the city, hoping to meet up with Team CFVY again somewhere, several blasted-out Grimm husks later.

Honestly, it might have been smarter to stick together, but there’s three of their friends, and once they figure out where Coco got off to, it’ll be four. Fox had muttered something fondly about how their team leader had probably gotten carried away again, but all three of Coco’s teammates—particularly her girlfriend—looked a little on edge.

So Pyrrha keeps setting things on fire, Nora keeps whacking things with her hammer, and Ren keeps sneaking around and stabbing Grimm where they least expect it like the literal ninja he is. And, when Pyrrha or someone else needs a break, Jaune comes out to give others a boost, although for the most part he’s content to watch the fireworks and call out things Pyrrha misses.

And then, suddenly, a large deathstalker Pyrrha had been about to set on fire sprouts an electrified trident from its head. Three golden clones of one monkey-tailed boy shimmer into view, each climbing atop the trident by the handle to drive it in further. The deathstalker screams, but abruptly has its legs swept out from under it by the actual monkey-tailed boy and his nunchuck-staff.

The deathstalker evaporates into thick, black ichor. Sun’s clones disappear, but not before tossing the trident to him—and he in return throws it back to its owner. Sun and Neptune chestbump in victory.

“Hey, guys!” Nora says with a wave. “How’s it going?”

“Pretty good,” Sun says automatically. “Long time no see! How’s it going on your end? Is Team RWBY here too?”

“You’re forgetting the entire Grimm invasion!” Neptune corrects.

“Okay, okay, besides that. But that’s a given! Honestly, compared to the Fall of Beacon, this is easy. Guess we’re just that much stronger. Hey Nora, hey Jaune. Sorry about, um, Pyrrha. Where’s Ren?”

“It’s alright,” Pyrrha says, and elbows Nora before she starts snickering too hard. “Wait, what do you mean, where’s Ren?”

Sun apparently means exactly what he says. Ren had been right behind them two seconds ago, but now he’s nowhere in sight. Nora, gulping, pulls out her scroll, and visibly relaxes when it shows that his aura is still up, if a little lower than it should be.

“He was right here a minute ago,” Nora says with a shrug. “I’m sure he’s fine. He’s Ren. Probably off sneak-stabbing another Grimm.”

“Huh,” Sun considers this. “Okay. Wait. What are you all doing in Vacuo? I thought you were headed to Atlas?”

“They just couldn’t resist finding out how much cooler we’ve gotten since Beacon,” Neptune supplies. 

Pyrrha feigns a sneeze to hide the flash of yellow light from her eyes. “You? Cool? I saw you at the dance!” Jaune shakes his head disapprovingly. “Where were you when I was rocking it in that dress? Oh, that’s right, hiding out on the balcony.”

“We did make it to Atlas,” Nora says to answer the original question, “and a lot happened that we can catch you up on later, but we… sort of completed our mission there? Also sort of horribly failed it and we won’t know just how horribly for potentially years, but no one died! Well, okay, General Ironwood died, but he was going full dictator, so…” 

Nora freezes. “Wait. Rudy Zuud… She died. Saving me and Team RWBY from a giant mecha-spider.”

“No shortage of spiders here.” Sun points up at the dark sky, most of the smile wiped off his face. “They balloon in over the wall. Them and the ravagers, they’ll come at you anywhere. And even the deathstalkers can climb. As you saw.”

“Text us your room numbers,” Neptune says. “Or address, if you’re not staying at Shade. We’ve got to catch up with Sage and Scarlet.”

“And we need to find Ren.” Jaune is starting to look disturbed by his teammate’s absence. “Where is he? There’s no more Grimm in this area.”

“Maybe he’s with our two? I wouldn’t worry yet.” Sun gives a friendly salute, then turns tail and heads off toward the other half of his team. 

“Too late,” Jaune mutters, looking down at his scroll where another frantic text from Velvet appears. “I’m worrying.”

In the midst of battle, Emerald concentrates. A more accurate description may be that she is near the battle, but not quite in the midst of it: Mercury and some other Shade students she hasn’t bothered to learn the names of are taking on some Grimm.

She could, of course, just tell Mercury it’s time to go the old-fashioned way. But where’s the fun in that? Instead, she concentrates. For Mercury and Mercury alone, the blackened jackal transforms its visage into that of Salem herself.

Emerald allows herself a moment of guilty pleasure that Mercury steps back from it, and then she has her illusion say, “Hurry up. We have places to be.” The Salem illusion turns to look meaningfully in Emerald’s direction, then gives way to a jackal-esque Grimm again.

“Fuck you,” Mercury says once he makes it over.

Emerald rolls her eyes and starts walking. “No thanks. I have a little thing called taste. Don’t suppose you’d know anything about that.”

“You? Taste? You’re going to make me laugh.” Mercury stoically does not laugh. Or even smile, for that matter. “You liked Cinder.”

“Yes, and? She’s dead now. What does it matter?”

Mercury grumbles something wordlessly under his breath, but does not pursue it. Instead, he asks, “So where are we going?”

“Where do you think?” Emerald displays an image on her scroll.

“That… is not an entirely terrible idea,” Mercury grudgingly admits. “But we need to get there fast.”

“Yeah,” Emerald says. “We do.”

She takes off, almost wishing that Mercury wouldn’t follow her. But he does, and her semblance covers their escape. As far as their Academy ‘friends’ are aware, they saw another group of Grimm and went off to deal with them.

One person is easy. Two is hard, and three is even worse. Fortunately, the other two huntsmen-in-training are far more concerned with the Grimm to dispute the third’s story.

The Queen is waiting for them. Her Eminence, not to be confused with Her Grace, is waiting for them in the very center of her still-under-construction palace.

And that means she was tipped off somehow. Maybe by the people who grabbed Weiss and Yang, or maybe she already knew and had directly ordered the kidnapping. Either way, she’s ready for them now. There’s no element of surprise, and she won’t go down without a fight. 

But the four of them – even if it should be six – are ready to give her just that. Ruby grips Crescent Rose tighter and exchanges one last look with Blake, and then they all slow to face down the Queen as she begins to speak.

“So, Miss Goldwing has some new friends, I see. So eager to commit treason that they can’t wait even a single day after my coronation. But I think you’ll find killing me to be just a little more difficult than you expect.”

“We’d rather not have to,” Ruby calls back to her. “But we won’t let you take an entire kingdom away from its Council, from its people.”

“General Ironwood tried the same thing in Atlas,” Blake adds. “We stopped him. He killed himself rather than face the reality that he’d lost. You don’t have to. But one way or another, we will see Vacuo free.”

“Free?” Ozma twirls her long red and black staff, still seemingly carefree in the face of her foes. “I was elected to the old Council for three terms! This is the will of the Vacuan people! You girls, who have never been here before in your lives, you really think you can say otherwise?”

Jade hefts her squarish greatsword, and the channel down its length lights up with wind dust. “If this were the mandate of the Vacuan people, they wouldn’t be in danger right now from all these Grimm!”

With a nod to her erstwhile teammates, she charges in. Her blade clashes against the Queen’s metal staff, first overhead and then down low, until Ozma catches it in the middle and strikes with the opposite end. Green light flashes as Jade’s aura takes a hit, and she stumbles back.

Blake is right behind her, with her two blades ready for a whirlwind of slices. She blinks into shadow at each pass of the staff, every time reappearing just behind it in the space it left behind, where the weapon’s momentum prevents it from striking again.

Ruby takes shots with her sniper rifle when she can, in between the rapidly growing crowd of melee fighters. Hazel’s right arm sports a single crystal of lightning dust but no more, as he too barrels forward to join the fray.

Ozma retreats cautiously, baiting the rest to follow her in a slow circuit around this courtyard in the middle of her unfinished palace. She darts in for a few quick strikes, backs off again, and repeats, always with one eye on Ruby to dodge her shots.

Of the three targets she has to choose from, Jade seems to be the most frequently targeted, and with every hit that connects, bright green light washes over the group for an instant. It’s an interesting semblance, Ruby thinks – clearly automatic rather than a conscious effort, perhaps meant as a warning to allies just as much as a distraction to her foes.

And then, without warning, Ozma switches tactics. She points her staff directly at Ruby and sprints in her direction, letting the others chase harmlessly behind, and as she moves her staff takes on a swirl of scarlet and black around the tip. A beam of the same twisting color sparks forth and lands squarely on Ruby’s chest, and suddenly her mind is overwhelmed with searing pain.

Ruby drops to her knees. In the back of her mind she faintly registers the sensation of Crescent Rose slipping from her hand, the sound of her own voice crying out, but no conscious thoughts can push through the pain and the shock. She can’t even tell if her aura shielding is still up, or if she’s lost even the near-subconscious focus needed to project it.

Until it ends, as suddenly as it came. Ruby looks up to see Ozma stumbling forward, clutching at her shoulder, while a ways behind Hazel lowers a yellow-veined fist. Blake has shifted her weapon to gun form as well, and she frantically signals for Ruby to get out of the way of the Queen still coming at her. Ruby grabs her weapon again and unfolds it into a scythe, and stands as ready as she can.

Ozma slides on her knees under Ruby’s attack and takes two hits at Ruby’s legs, followed by one to the shoulder with the opposite end of her staff. Ruby bursts into rose petals and flies away to let Jade close the distance in her place, swinging her greatsword like it weighs nothing at all – and with so much wind dust embedded within, perhaps it does.

And then the Queen points her staff again. At Hazel this time, intending to stall his approach as well as punish him for interrupting the first time, while she ducks around Jade’s attacks and retaliates with kicks of her spiked heels.

Hazel doesn’t even slow as the red and black beam touches him. Ozma’s eyes widen and her aura sparks as one of Blake’s bullets makes contact, and finally she breaks off the ray of pain to dive away from Hazel’s powerful punch.

Ozma blocks another hit of Jade’s greatsword on her staff, and shoves her bodily into Hazel. As those two sort themselves out again, she swaps her staff to the other hand and draws a small knife. The crimson swirl forms again, and this time targets Blake as she kneels in quiet concentration with her gun.

Blake screams under the sudden pain, and for a brief moment Ruby can see that her earlier worry was indeed true: the agony is so great that it breaks concentration on even the most fundamental aspects of huntress training. Blake’s aura, however strong, won’t do her any good if it’s not active as a shield – and Ozma is already moving to throw the knife.

Ruby’s face flushes hot as she calls Blake’s name. White light erupts from her eyes, and when it fades she sees Ozma clutching at her face and blinking rapidly. The beam of red from her staff is shut off, and Blake holds the knife and rubs at her bruised neck, looking far more insulted than hurt. 

Jade is looking at her strangely, but there’s no time for Ruby to explain, if an explanation of silver eyes is even what she wants. Ruby wasn’t even completely sure they’d work as a distraction alone, but there must be enough Grimm around to let them activate. And, of course, the single drop of Grimm essence now bonded with her own right hand, which she may just have to experiment with later. 

Ozma mutters something to herself as she recovers from the blinding light. Ruby can’t quite make out every word, but she’s pretty sure ‘not another one’ was a part of it. 

“Didn’t I tell you about that?” a new voice comes from the darkness to one side. Out steps the familiar face of one Pearl Avantus, crossing the courtyard to stand by Ozma’s side. “The red one came to warn me about you, remember? She has silver eyes.”

“And apparently she can use them,” Ozma grumbles. “It was bad enough with only miss flashy green light over there. Did you bring the things I asked for?”

“Of course, my love.” Avantus leans her head on Ozma’s shoulder, and almost absentmindedly takes a coiled whip off its holster on her lower back and slings it outward in a sharp crack. The bladed mechanism at its tip strikes against Blake’s gun as she raises it to aim, and the weapon goes flying from her grip. 

Blake and Jade both run to fetch the gun during the lull in combat. “I know that whip,” Jade comments softly. “It belongs to Her Eminence. What’s Avantus doing with it?”

“I didn’t even know the Councilwoman could fight,” Blake responds. “Though I’m more worried about what Ozma’s done to her to make her… like that.”

Like that, apparently, means kissing a woman who should have been her enemy on the cheek while both of them have multiple weapons pointed in their direction. Upon finally pulling back, Avantus takes out three small glass vials from a pouch on her belt, and hands one to her partner. She wraps the whip back into its holster, and takes a teardrop of glass in each hand. 

“Next time, try sending five people instead of four,” Avantus calls to the band of allies before her. “At least then you’d have us outnumbered!”

In unison, she and Ozma raise their vials and the staff, and four beams of red lance outward to touch every member of the ersatz team. Ruby, Blake, and Jade all struggle against the intense pain, but can’t hold up for more than a moment before sinking to their knees. 

Hazel, on the other hand, remains completely immune so long as his semblance is active. He charges Ozma, and punches the air in Avantus’s direction to send a bolt of lightning her way. Both dodge out of the way and dance around him, avoiding every punch and grab, with Ozma breaking off her staff’s hold on Jade every now and then for a single strike or stab before returning the red beam to its mark. 

“Or, maybe four is enough,” Ozma mutters. “When one of them’s not affected.”

After a short while Hazel seems to realize no progress is being made. With his fast aura recovery, he’s gaining strength faster than the occasional hit can deplete it, but he can hardly lay a finger on the Queen or her ally. And the longer this drags on, the more pain will be suffered by the three friends he came with. 

Hazel grabs Ruby and throws her over one shoulder, then takes Blake the same way just next to her. Jade goes over the other shoulder, and then Hazel turns tail and runs. The Queen and her consort concentrate their fire with four beams all splashing against his back, but with aura still fueling his semblance, he feels nothing. 

He doesn’t come to a stop for three full city blocks, only then finally setting the others down again on the pavement. Thankfully, the area is clear of Grimm, at least for now. 

“Thanks, Hazel,” Ruby pants, still not quite recovered from the ordeal. “We really owe you one.”

Jade manages a weary nod as well, and flutters her wings in an effort to get comfortable on the sidewalk. 

Blake, however, seems a little suspicious. “Why?” she asks. “The last time we met, we were fighting each other. Why save us now?”

“Times change,” Hazel replies simply. “None of you needed to die today.” He offers a hand to pull the girls back to their feet. “Nor the last time we met, either.”

The smaller Grimm have largely been beaten back at this point, but that still leaves the giant turtle. The giant turtle that, up until now, has been circling the city without attacking. Now, however, it’s apparently tired of that much.

Coco watches, horrified, as the turtle rams itself headlong into the city wall. The ground shakes even out here, and Coco—she wants to do something. She has to do something.

But given that she can’t even escape, stopping the turtle is the least of her worries. Hands are tied behind her back, and while her feet aren’t bound, she’s lashed to the side of this wagon going gods know where. 

Well. In light of recent information, the gods probably don’t know where, but she heard someone talking about Rathuum and she knows where that is. And that… is really not a good thing.

The one time she splits up from her team, for two seconds. Two seconds! And look how it ends for her. At least Coco has some consolation in the fact that it’s her that was grabbed and not Velvet, because that means Velvet isn’t stuck in this… whatever it is. She’s safe. Relatively speaking. As safe as one can be in a city with a desert turtle ramming the wall, when you’re one of the (aspiring) huntresses protecting it.

Goddammit, Coco hates being helpless. The worst part is, there’s quite a few others on the wagon too who she recognizes. Weiss and Yang, Ren, Scarlet and Sage… if they’re here, that means they’re not out there fighting that goddamn turtle.

What even attracted the thing? The negative emotions surrounding Councilwoman— Queen now, she supposes—Ozma’s ascension shouldn’t have been that potent. Not unless the knowledge that she was Her Eminence all along was much more widespread than that pretty Eve lady made it out to be, or the people of Vacuo are a lot more involved in politics than Coco’s been led to believe they are since her team arrived.

Or the whole queen thing is a lot more than simple politics and everyone knows it. That would do it too. Maybe Coco should count herself lucky that there’s only one turtle.

And yet, suddenly, a blur of white streaks up from the sand. She hovers there, impossible to make out much from a distance, but the stormclouds she summons overhead make it abundantly clear who that is. That has to be the Summer Maiden, Xuri herself.

With a gesture from Xuri, lightning strikes the turtle’s head once, twice, three times.

“Holy shit,” Coco says under her breath. “Look over there!”

The others do, and are treated to an inferno the likes of which even Cinder Fall would have been hard-pressed to match. When it fades, the white-cloaked figure is gone, and the turtle stands motionless. Then it crumples into ashy ichor.

“Wow,” Sage says. “I have absolutely no idea what that was.”

Chapter Text

In the only moderately crowded living room of the house in Vacuo, Ozbot clears his throat. “I really do think you all are overreacting. I’m sure they are perfectly fine, and they will turn up sooner—”

“Ozpin?” Ruby asks. “Shut up. We saw Weiss and Yang get kidnapped. Grimm don’t kidnap people.” At least, she’s pretty sure they don’t. Maybe that’s something to ask Salem about, but she still doesn’t think it was the Grimm that took them.

Either of them can handle a few Grimm alone. Together, they can handle a lot more than a few Grimm—which means it has to have been something else, some one else: the Grineer.

“They’re not that smart,” she adds.

“But Salem is,” Ozbot counters. “You really thought you could associate with her freely without her stabbing you in the back at the first opportunity?”

“She’s in Atlas!”

“And,” Blake steps forward, putting a hand on her girlfriend’s shoulder, “I really, really doubt she directly controls every Grimm, everywhere, all the time. I know it’s hard for you not to assume the worst of people, but try it sometime. I have my doubts about associating with Salem too, but I trust Ruby. She hasn’t led me wrong yet.”

Ozbot grumbles, and eventually says, “I’m going to take a walk.” With those words, he does. The door slams shut behind him, and all eyes go to the two huntsmen-in-training sitting on the couch that were decidedly not supposed to be here.

“Wow,” Neptune remarks, “he didn’t even notice us, did he?”

“Nope.” Nora pops the P. “You’ll get used to him. Used to be a great professor, just kinda sucks now.”

“So that’s… really Professor Ozpin, huh?” Sun pulls himself up into a crouch and curls his tail around his ankles. “He, uh… seems a bit shorter. And younger.”

Blake snorts. “You should have met Oscar. The short version is, every time he dies, he reincarnates into someone new. The one after the Ozpin we knew was a kid named Oscar. Oscar, quite justifiably, wanted nothing to do with this. There was a machine in Atlas that transferred Ozpin out of his body and into… well, a robotic one. Ozbot. So now, as long as he doesn’t die again, he can’t steal anyone else’s life.”

“O… kay.” Sun leans back into the couch slightly. “I get the feeling I’m missing a lot more than just this. It hasn’t been that long since Haven…”

“No, not really. A lot’s happened.”

“Yeah,” Ruby agrees wearily. “Honestly, we didn’t want to bring your team in on this if we didn’t have to, but… the Grineer kind of asked for it.”

“Grineer?” Neptune blinks. “Never heard of ‘em.”

“The Crown?”

Sun and Neptune exchange knowing looks. “Okay, them we’ve heard of. They’ve been kidnapping people with powerful semblances, but we haven’t really made much progress in investigating them.”

“Or any progress,” Sun mutters.

“Oh come on,” Fox says. He crosses his arms across his chest. “You too? Has every team at Shade been investigating them in their downtime?”

“And Assistant Headmistress Rumpole,” Yatsuhashi offers.

“Yeah, and Rumpole.”

“That would explain why she warned the entire student body against tangling with them.” Velvet taps a finger to her chin thoughtfully. “We thought that was just directed at us, but if there were others… it also explains why they’d want Coco.”

“Well, they clearly don’t have access to Shade’s records, or they’d have grabbed Sun and me instead of Sage and Scarlet.” Neptune puffs up proudly. “Sage hasn’t unlocked his semblance yet, and Scar’s is… well, it’s very useful in very specific situations. Not so much otherwise.”

“I know what Sun’s is,” Blake says, “but what’s yours, Neptune?”

“It’s, um…” Neptune pales. “Not that important, really, it’s not like I’ll ever use it, but if the Crown knew about it they’d totally want me. Yeah. But I’ll never use it so it doesn’t matter!”

“So… you don’t have a semblance.”

“I do!”

“He does,” Sun says wearily, patting his partner’s shoulder. “I’ll point it out if he ever uses it.”

Ruby clears her throat and turns, making sure her cape swooshes dramatically behind her. “So, um… we’re not really sure where everyone is, we are pretty sure it’s the Grineer that took them, and… That’s about it. But we can answer your questions about Salem, at least?”

“Yeah… who is that? Ozpin’s ex or something?”

As if on cue, the door opens. It’s not Ozbot who steps in, however, but the group’s designated uncles: Qrow shortly followed by Clover.

“Hey kids,” Qrow greets with a wave. “Hang on. Where’d these two come from?”

“And where’s Oz?” Clover adds.

“They’re friends from Beacon, Oz threw a tantrum and went for a walk, and I told you he would notice, Blake, you owe me five lien.”

Blake rolls her eyes and passes the note over. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Aww, that’s cute,” Sun observes. “Wait. You’re not dating Yang?”

“Oh, I am! And Weiss!”

“And I’m dating Weiss too,” Ruby pipes up, tucking her winnings into a side pocket.

“Oh.” Sun doesn’t look disappointed, which is… surprising. He grins. “Damn, Blake knows how to get it. You’ve got three girlfriends!”

“I sure… do?” Blake agrees. She sounds about as surprised as Ruby feels that Sun doesn’t sound even a little jealous. “Well, two of them are missing right now, but we’ll find them.”

“And Ren!” Jaune adds.

“And Coco!” Velvet says emphatically.

“And Sage and Scarlet,” Neptune cuts in. “So, uh… who’s this Salem lady?”

“It’s a long story,” Jaune says, “and I’ve got something connected to that to show you first. Probably better to start there anyway.”

His eyes flash pink, signaling a change in the shared body’s pilot, and Pyrrha grins. “Remember how you said sorry about Pyrrha? Well, guess what? She’s alive, she’s me, I’m borrowing Jaune’s body, and magic is real and it’s awesome. How’s that for summing things up?”

Velvet laughs. “I think they’ll be a little less sore than we were after you told us about that.”

Kela de Thaym is having an amazing day. She may be the only person in Vacuo who is, but that only makes the satisfaction greater. 

Six new fighters for Rathuum in a single night’s work? All of them with huntsman training, and three who actually have licenses already? And those three all being visitors to the kingdom, who won’t be missed by more than a handful of associates? 

This is the best day she’s had in years. 

The Grimm can’t actually hurt Rathuum itself, no matter how severe the attack on Vacuo city. Her colosseum is in the central chamber of one of the ancient dust mines outside the walls, deep underground where most surface Grimm can’t reach, and where even the strong emotions of fighting are dimmed by distance and rock. And unlike the caves of Atlas or Vale, the burrowing types here are all adapted to sand instead of stone and cannot get anywhere near. 

Rain or shine, business as usual or apocalypse aboveground, Rathuum goes on. Even when Kela isn’t there herself because she’s taking the opportunity to report in about her massive success to Her Eminence. 

“And there you have it,” she concludes. “You wanted that group of newcomers weakened, you’ve got it. Enjoy!” Kela spreads her hands, obviously pleased with herself. 

“Impressive,” Queen Ozma admits. “This does open up some new opportunities for luring out the magic-users. Split this new group in half before they can forge a proper alliance, and then everyone is distracted. Good work.”

Kela grins. Personal praise from the Queen is difficult to come by, even for top lieutenants such as herself. 

“Did you happen to acquire a tall, yellow-haired one in white armor from this group?”

Is this one important? Kela hides her fear that she may have overlooked something, and asks in the hope that it wasn’t something obvious she should have known about. “Afraid not. Impressive flame semblance, but he never left his team. Do you want that one in particular?”

Queen Ozma rolls her eyes and leans back in her chair. “Don’t be fooled by the disguise, it’s definitely a girl beneath that armor. And yes, I do want her. Just as much as I want that damned zebra in custody. Did you at least take any of her teammates?”

“One,” Kela reports, silently thanking fate that she got at least that much. 

“Bring me a picture of that one. We’ll need it for later.” Ozma pauses and stares off into space for a while. Her face still forms expressions as if she’s listening to a voice only she can hear, but until Kela gets a word of dismissal, she won’t leave the room. She can only watch in growing confusion, and more than a little worry about whether her boss is mentally all there, and then the Queen’s aura flares up for just a moment and fades away again. 

“So. A picture.” Her Eminence picks up exactly where she’d left off. “Bring that to me as soon as you can. I need to know what I’m dealing with. Was there anything else you had to report?”

Kela clears her throat. “Actually, yes. I’ve got some bad news about your man Teshin. I’m afraid he’s…” She purses her lips and shakes her head lightly, but it’s not the word dead that follows. “A complete fucking idiot.”  

The Queen raises one eyebrow. “Anything I don’t already know? What’s he done this time?”

“Well, you see, he seems to think that now you’re Queen, you might not need him anymore.” 

“And he’d be right.”

“So he came to me, asking for protection in the event you tried to have him killed. He doesn’t seem to realize he and I work for the same person.”

Her Eminence bursts out laughing. “Oh, that’s a good one! You said yes, I hope?”

“Of course. He gave me the intel I needed to nab those kids last night. For free, since I’m sure not sending my Executioners to help that moron.”

“How could he think Kela de Thaym… is not with the Crown? He knows we want people with powerful semblances. He knows we hand them over to Tyl Regor so he can study them and – well, there are some things even I don’t ask. But what better way is there to find out people’s semblances… than Rathuum?”

Kela agrees wholeheartedly with that assessment. “What better way than through an arena with me and a live audience, where each fighter never knows if their battle is to the death or if they have the crowd’s favor enough to fight again? No one can hold back on their abilities for long in there. And with these new six… I’m sure some of them will be worthwhile.”

“Indeed.” The Queen rests back again and takes out a scroll from one pocket. “I’ll let you get to it, then. And don’t forget that photo. You are dismissed.”

“Shhh, that’s a good girl, you just lay right there and don’t move, now this may sting a little…” Dr. Julie Silver leans over her latest patient on the table, and dabs a cotton swab into some alcohol. “Just like that, it will only take a moment…”

“Do you have to use your pet voice on me?” Xuri twists her head up to look Julie in the eyes. “I’m not some cat or dog being brought in for a checkup, I’m – ow!”

Julie freezes as the zebra faunus cries out, holding the sterilizing swab just over the long gash in her side. “What?” she asks innocently. “I warned you it might sting.”

“Can’t you do something about that?”

“My semblance is for diagnosing animals who can’t tell me where it hurts, not for all the time. It’s hard to be a good doctor when I’m the one in pain. But, I suppose…”

Dr. Silver takes her patient’s hand and concentrates. She flinches slightly even as Xuri’s face finally relaxes into comfort, and grits her teeth as she prepares to clean the girl’s wound once again. She dabs the alcohol-soaked swab down and squeezes Xuri’s hand as pain flares up in her own side, and she works quickly to finish before it becomes unbearable. 

She pauses at the end, almost panting as the shock gradually subsides, and then lets go of Xuri’s hand. The residual pain vanishes almost instantaneously, while Xuri wheezes as it suddenly returns to her instead. 

“Thanks,” Xuri manages. She squirms a little on the hard table, but no position is really any more comfortable. 

“You said you got hit by a chimera, right? Teeth or claws?”

“Claws.”

Julie frowns. “That’s worse, actually. Grimm don’t eat to survive, so their teeth are surprisingly clean. But who knows where their feet have been?” She traces her fingers down the length of the cut with a bit of water, wiping off the dried blood around. “This doesn’t look too serious now, though you’ll probably get a scar. But if it gets infected, this could become life-threatening.”

“I suppose you’ll want me to rest and not exert myself?”

“Yes,” Julie says forcefully. “I mean it this time. Doctor’s… well, vet’s orders. Let me just apply some light antibiotic cream as a preventative and then cover it up, and you should be good to go.”

She smears a thin paste down the length of the wound, crossing through four of the wide black and white stripes across Xuri’s midsection. Next comes a strip of gauze, stuck down with a series of bandages. 

“There. Now, carefully…” She takes Xuri’s hand and helps her sit up on the table without disturbing the wound. “No lifting heavy things for a week, at least. If you have to lean down, bend at the knees, not the waist. You don’t want to reopen it. And definitely no fighting until you’re healed.”

Xuri starts to reach toward the bandages, and Julie slaps her hand. “No touching it! Don’t make me put a cone on you.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Xuri meets the doctor’s eyes for a moment, and laughs. “Besides, unlike most of your patients, I have these little things called opposable thumbs…”

“Well, maybe you should use one of them to hold a shield next time.” Julie begins packing away her medical supplies. “I’m glad this wasn’t worse. Eve had me worried when she called. And she said some of Ozpin’s team have gone missing?”

“Yeah.” Xuri hops down from the table, and winces. “Some of them, and some of their friends who were already here at Shade. Got to be the Crown, not the Grimm.”

“Can Nora help?”

“Nope. We don’t have any photos of them. Nora’s going to see if she can get any hints from spying on the enemy, then probably send out a message with whatever she knows.”

Julie sighs. “I wish there was more I could do to help. Maybe I should ask for more sparring sessions with Eve or Jade. I’ve got the bad feeling we’re going to need every fighter we can get.”

“Maybe so. I’ll tell them you asked.” Xuri steps forward to give Julie a hug, but only a loose one as her side begins to hurt again. “I should let you get back to your actual legal job. Thanks again.”

Collectively, the members of Team JNPR are not early risers when they don’t have to be. Individually, Pyrrha and Ren are the early risers, and Jaune and Nora are the late sleepers. When school is on, of course, it’s a different story—Nora’s typically the first up then, while Ren does his meditation last thing at night instead of first thing in the morning.

But school isn’t on, and Ren isn’t here. Nora hopes that wherever he is, he’s still getting his meditation in. She hopes he’s doing alright in general, too.

Wherever he is, wherever everyone is? They’re going to find them. Sooner or later. But Vacuo is a big kingdom, and as the days go by it’s been looking more and more like later rather than sooner, and… well, to be completely honest, Nora’s still not entirely sure who she is without Ren.

It’s really kind of sad, because she had weeks to figure that out alone with Ruby and Blake and the rest of Vox Faunus. But now’s as good a time as any to keep working on it, particularly since there isn’t anywhere near as much in the way of revolution in this kingdom. Not yet.

What she does know is that her name is Nora, not to be confused with the other, lesser, apparently nocturnal Nora who she hasn’t actually met yet. It’s the name she chose for herself instead of that other one her parents gave her. She was Nora before she even met Ren. 

She knows she likes hitting things with hammers, and that nearly every problem she’s ever encountered in her life either was, will be, or could have been solved by hitting it with a hammer. The problem of the parents who threw their failed son out of their house at age ten falls firmly in the ‘could have been’ category, because at this point Nora no longer really feels the need to classify it as ‘will be’. 

But the problem of figuring out who she is without Ren? There’s only so much a hammer can do for her there. 

At least she still has Jaune, this time. And Pyrrha! It’s not just her, Ruby, Blake, and a crowd of faunus with more guns than hours of sleep. And if anyone could maybe help her out, it would be her team leader, and the girl who managed to keep herself sane through two years of spectating her own murderer’s life. 

If they’re awake yet. With an early bird and a night owl in the same body, their resting patterns have been a little erratic lately. Nora was a little surprised to find herself up before them today, but she’d just quietly slipped out of the team’s room to have some coffee and think. But thinking only seems to be making her feel bad, so screw thinking. Time to see if her friends are up yet, and if they’re not… well, a hammer could solve that problem, but in this case it probably shouldn’t. 

Nora pushes open the door a crack and sees an empty bed, so she opens it all the way. Jaune is standing just outside of the closet with a hand mirror, paying no attention as she enters, too busy inspecting his… Wait. Is that…

That’s the corset and asymmetrical skirt that Ruby got for Pyrrha. Until now, Nora’s never seen it actually on its intended body. 

And just like her own new outfit and everyone else’s, it looks fabulous.

“Hey, Pyrrha!” she greets her teammate, only to be met with a startled and confused look for a moment. 

“Oh, uh, hi, Nora. I… This is Jaune, actually. I wasn’t expecting you to come in.”

Nora’s eyes widen and her mind races. Jaune is clearly self-conscious about being seen like this, and she understands perfectly why. But he’s not nervous enough to try to pretend to be his headmate, so that’s a good sign. Nora shuts the bedroom door behind her, and locks it. 

“You look great,” she leads, hoping to assuage some of his fears upfront. There will be no closeting oneself on this team, not if she has anything to say about it. 

“I just figured, we’ll certainly switch at some point today, so to get a head start and not have to change later I wanted to–” He finally seems to register what Nora said. “Wait. You… you think so? Even though it’s… you know, me?”

“Jaune…” Nora takes her teammate by the arm and leads him to sit next to her on the edge of the nearest bed. “We’ve seen you wear dresses before. You wore one in Atlas, of all places! The kingdom of snootiness itself, and you hadn’t even lost a bet that time! You know you can wear things that were made with girls in mind and nobody is going to laugh at you. And take it from a fellow skirt enthusiast, that outfit looks really good on you.”

“I mean, yeah. I know. I was already going to just wear this all day today. But I was still… you know, getting myself ready for it.”

His eyes flash pink. “I think I accidentally gave him the impression somehow that I was hesitant to wear my new outfit because of him,” Pyrrha explains. “So now he’s trying to prove just how okay with it he is by putting it all on before I do so myself.”

Nora smiles, but before she can say anything in response, the body’s eyes flash again and Jaune is back. “Hey,” he protests. “If you weren’t thinking that, then why haven’t we worn this until today? You’ve been the one to wake up in front many mornings now.”

Another flash. “Because… well, we weren’t born like this, it’s still your body that I’m borrowing…” Pyrrha pauses. “No, that’s not the same thing, if you’d let me finish–”

“Does it matter?” Nora cuts in before the two of them can start arguing in earnest. “You’re wearing it now, and it looks good. And, whether you can agree on the reasons or not, you’re both okay with this outfit. I’m not seeing a problem.”

Pyrrha gives her a sheepish look, and stays quiet. 

“Besides,” Nora says, “I like seeing people wear things outside their assigned gender. It really just warms my little trans heart every time.” She leans over to throw an arm around her teammates’ shoulders. 

Pyrrha doesn’t return the gesture, instead suddenly going stiff. “What?”

Nora’s eyes widen once again in realization. “Ohh… you died before I came out, didn’t you? Yeah, so, I’m a trans girl, the rest of our friends already know. I mean, Ren’s known for years and years, but…” Her face falls. “You know.”

But her crestfallen look doesn’t last long, and she springs to her feet in front of Pyrrha and traces over the narrow pink and blue stripes all across her desert outfit. “See, look! This outfit Ruby got me is just covered in little trans flags! And, Jaune?”

Pyrrha’s eyes flare with yellow as she hands over control. Nora reaches out with both hands and Jaune takes them, and she pulls him to his feet and stares intently into his eyes. “Trying to make your body-mate comfortable is great! But it’s okay if you’re also wearing that for yourself.”

Yang really, really wants to punch something. Ideally some one, like that irritatingly eyecatching woman in the oversized coat who’s in charge here. 

She’s not even that attractive, so why does Yang keep finding herself staring? She’s just standing up there on her balcony, watching the arena like everyone else. Well, everyone else except for Yang and her friends, and the rest of the apparent gladiator-slaves in this place. 

Yang really wants to punch something, despite the fact that she’s just been punching things for the last ten minutes or so. Specifically, punching Grimm. She and Weiss were tossed out here together, and the people who run this place – that woman who wears a heavy coat in the desert – have been releasing Grimm a few at a time from cages they raise up through the arena floor. As long as the crowd cheers, they keep coming. 

She doesn’t recognize anyone in the audience. Not that she really gets much time to look, when new Grimm are tossed in here before she and Weiss have even finished off the last wave. But things finally seem to be slowing down, at least enough that she can return to her girlfriend’s side in the center of the arena. 

“What a performance!” the ringleader shouts from her balcony. “I can feel your hunger! Like you want to rip these contenders’ throats out with your teeth! Enough Grimm. Let’s turn this over to the audience!” She gestures upward with both arms and the crowd all around cheers even louder than before. “Unless you want to give these two the honor of having their tiny necks snapped by the Kela de Thaym?”

The crowd boos at that, indicating that for now at least, they’d prefer to see Yang and Weiss continue fighting. Yang almost wishes they’d shouted the opposite, just so she could have the chance to kill the Kela de Thaym and get the hell out of here. 

At least they get a moment’s rest to check on each other and their auras, before whatever fight comes next. Yang’s at sixty percent, Weiss closer to seventy. It’s been a tough balancing act, choosing between fighting safe to conserve aura and possibly getting overwhelmed as more Grimm pour in, versus fighting aggressively to clear them out quickly and possibly running low before the fight is over. 

“No takers?” Kela yells from above. “Do I have a bunch of maggot-minded cowards here tonight? Show me who’s brave enough to enter Rathuum and prove themselves against our newest Executioners!”

“We’ll fight them,” comes a lone voice from the crowd. A vaguely familiar voice, Yang thinks as she turns around. 

It’s Mercury. And Emerald with him, though from the grip he has on her arm it looks like she isn’t quite as keen on challenging the current contestants in the ring. 

“Well, well, well, we have a few brave souls after all! Place your bets now, everyone. We’ll start the winnings pool at… what do you say to two thousand lien? Balanced odds for the first time Executioners, of course. Place your bets!”

Yang glares at the two fighters coming to face her. Especially Mercury. “Don’t make me break your legs again,” she warns. 

“Where would be the fun in that? There’s no disqualification in this arena.”

Emerald finally has her brave mask on again, and twirls one of her gun-blades on its chain. “Think of this as the doubles round match we never got,” she calls. “I could have fought Coco again, but beating her is just so easy.”

Weiss takes a step forward with her head held high. “I think you’ll find I’ve got a few tricks I didn’t know yet at the Vytal Festival.”

The loudspeakers blare with Kela’s voice again. “Oh, I see, this one’s personal. You know what I say about fraternizing with the Executioners!”

“Don’t get attached!” the crowd chants in response. 

Weiss moves to Yang’s side and whispers in her ear, “All these people are here for entertainment. Let’s give them the opposite. I’ve got an idea.”

“Oh, my poor ex,” Kela laments over the intercom. “She got attached. Old Cressa never could understand that the arena comes first. No fun, that one. Then she moved to Atlas, where the whole kingdom has no fun allowed. But we know better here, don’t we? We know how to have a good time!”

“Now wait just a second,” Yang yells up at the balcony. “You dated Cressa Tal? Leader of the Atlas White Fang? I like her even more now, if she dumped you!”

“Ooh, this is a feisty one! Let’s see if that translates to a real fight. Challengers, begin!”

Emerald and Mercury charge at them, and Weiss takes her last free moment to murmur to Yang, “Freezerburn on my mark.”

They stay together even as their opponents try to drive between them and separate into two one on one pairs. Yang and Weiss at each other’s backs, standing strong to turn away kicks and chain alike, until Emerald and Mercury back off to try a different strategy. 

“Now!” Weiss calls, shutting her eyes tight against a projected illusion as she spins in place to coat the ground in ice. Yang leaps upward with one gauntleted fist held high, and slams down just by Weiss’s ankles. The ice vaporizes into a thick cloud of steam, concealing all four fighters from each other as well as the audience above. 

Yang stands guard over her teammate as she thrusts her rapier into the floor and concentrates. White glyphs appear all around, and from each one skeletal claws emerge and slowly drag forth a tall, emaciated body. 

Apathy. Yang would bet her right arm – but not her left, she’s not that confident – that these two have never seen this particular nasty type of Grimm before, and neither have most or all of the people watching. They won’t know what’s coming. By the time the mist clears enough for Mercury to charge her again, there are four of them lumbering outward, and another four on the way. 

Mercury ignores the ponderously slow Grimm and runs between them, pivoting up for a series of fast high kicks. His outline shimmers and briefly splits into two copies, then collapses again just in time for Yang to block his strikes. One of Emerald’s blades comes flying through what’s left of the steam cloud, and a single dust round from Yang’s gauntlet knocks it into the floor for Emerald to reel back in with her chain. 

“Anyone else think this fight’s kind of a bummer?” Kela de Thaym calls out over the intercom. She’s still loud, but notably less energetic than before. The crowd cheers weakly, louder from the rows farther back from the arena floor. 

Emerald drops to her knees. Mercury fares better, even though he’s surrounded on all sides while Emerald is nearer the edge, but still his kicks are sluggish and Yang manages a solid punch to his stomach to knock him away. 

Yang’s starting to feel the effect herself, and a glance at Weiss tells her she’s the same way, but at least the two of them have experience. They were prepared – and who knows, maybe repeated small doses of artificially induced despair can build up a resistance. 

“This is… fine, I guess,” Kela says, at a reasonable volume for once. “I was expecting… I don’t know. More.” A few scattered voices boo from the back ranks, but otherwise the arena is for the first time almost quiet. 

Mercury starts to attack again, but sees across the arena where several apathy are converging on a prone, face down Emerald. He rolls his eyes, and takes a casual jog around in a wide arc to drag her by her ankles toward the outer edge. 

“This was better when it was just the Grimm… Alright, you two! Gray and green. Get out of here, you’re killing the mood!” Kela yawns, not bothering to cover her mouth. “Fight’s over, you guys. Everyone go home. I need a nap.”

Weiss releases her focus and looks up, and the entire pack of apathy shimmer and dissolve into motes of white light. Mercury drops Emerald’s legs unceremoniously and hauls her up to stand on her own, and neither looks back as they leave the arena floor in disgrace. 

Yang and Weiss lean on each other in the center for a moment, but it seems Kela’s proclamation is not being revoked even now that the mood-dampening summons are gone. She’s not even visible on her balcony anymore. Yang briefly entertains the thought of trying to slip into the departing crowd and escape, but uniformed guards come quickly to escort them back below. 

Back to the holding cells, then. At least they’ll be with their friends again, and they can share their experiences with the few who haven’t yet been called up to fight. They’ll find a way out yet. With the six of them working together on this end, and the rest of their friends surely working to find them from outside, there’s nothing they can’t do. 

There’s nothing they can do. 

They’ve been searching everywhere imaginable, practically nonstop for days now, without a single clue to their friends’ location. Qrow’s been out flying, creating mental maps of the kingdom, and in the absence of a real sighting at least that can help coordinate the others’ searches. 

He hasn’t been blaming himself for this, not as much as past misfortunes. Maybe it’s Clover’s influence. Maybe it’s just plain logic, since he wasn’t near any of the young huntsmen and huntresses when they were stolen away. Whatever the reason, Ruby is glad for it. 

And she’s glad to have Blake, and Jaune, and most of her friends, at least. She’s not alone, and there’s a lot they can do if everyone works together. Or there’s a lot they should have been able to do. It hasn’t worked out very well so far. 

And so, after yet another long day of not making any real progress, she’s laying on the couch, her head on Blake’s lap and her legs dangling over the far end, idly staring at her scroll. Also idly staring at Blake’s beautiful face, but mostly at her scroll. 

Until the radio comes on. No one is quite sure exactly what hacks Nora Night uses to override people’s volume controls, but it’s pretty convenient that they can leave the device muted and still never miss an announcement. 

“Dreamers, shapers, singers, makers,” the broadcast begins, and Ruby sits up to pay proper attention to it. “So it begins.”

Ozbot wanders in from another room to listen as well, and after a quick text from Ruby, the remaining members of Team JNPR also join them. 

“In the face of darkness, we light a candle. We carry a mirror, and reflect the beauty of the world to illuminate our path. But in the scarlet pain of a kingdom’s fall, when war drums sound and the future quakes beneath its veil, what good is sharpened silver against a foe who shares our blood?”

Ruby and Blake share a look. “Is she talking about silver eyes?” Ruby asks quietly. “How would she know about–” 

But there’s no time to talk amongst themselves, as the radio continues uninterrupted. “Much has been taken from us, it’s true. And there’s none so brave as those with nothing left to lose – but we ain’t there, not yet. There’s a beacon shining in the distance, where the Queen can claim her crown – but she ain’t there. Not yet, not ever, not if our other half comes home.”

“The Grineer want the Relic of Choice?” Ozbot exclaims, and just for a moment his veneer of calm slips away. He looks to the body that might be Pyrrha and opens his mouth to speak again, but stays silent as the Nightwave message still goes on. 

“The nights are long. The nights are cold. There’s only so much any of us can do, while this bloody flower spreads its petals wider every day. Even the sharpest eagle eyes only see where they’re pointed, and while the prey may be plentiful, hunting rats ain’t much of a meal.”

There is a pause over the radio, but then Nora picks up again. “What do they teach you all in survival class these days? Y’all do learn survival skills, don’t you? When you lose sight of the pack, you sit down and start a fire. Someone’ll see the smoke. Now, that’s easier said than done, some days, but not all who are lost start wanderin’. You set your fire, and you let the world know: you’re here, you’re mad, and there ain’t nothing going to stand between you and your dreams.”

“Let the coming days be a metamorphosis,” she continues. “Vacuo, y’all’ve waited long enough. The Queen is here, and when we come out the other end of this, we’ll all have learned to fly. This is Nightwave, signing off.”

The radio clicks off again. “Wow,” Ruby says. “Sounds like she knows some things.”

“Sounds like she knows a lot,” Jaune echoes. “I wish Clover was here to interpret for us.”

“I’m sure he’s having a good time on his date. No need to interrupt them.”

“The part about Beacon is disturbing,” Ozbot comments. “I don’t see how it’s relevant, not yet, but she mentioned that in the same breath as a crown.” He screws up his face into a frown. “She shouldn’t know any of this. She wasn’t close to Ironwood like Clover was, probably never met the real Theo here, and nobody I know has ties to the Summer Maiden…”

“Well, we know she really is with the Summer Maiden. Qrow found that out the hard way.” Ruby giggles despite herself at the thought of her uncle barging into someone’s house and expecting not to leave dragged by his ankles. “I’m not too worried about how she knows things, only that she can help.”

“Didn’t sound like she can,” Blake says. “But part of that was definitely directed at our teammates, telling them to send us a signal somehow.”

Ruby looks down at her lap and sighs. “I just hope they can hear.”

Chapter Text

It’s been over two weeks. Almost three, really. And the total progress of the group toward finding their missing teammates and friends? Nothing. 

Their friends at Shade had nothing. Qrow’s spying as a bird, nothing. Nora Night’s spooky knowledge of things she shouldn’t know, nothing. Ozpin’s magic, also nothing, because he’d refused to even try it. Pyrrha’s magic, she had tried, to no effect. 

They’ve exhausted every contact in this kingdom and gotten nowhere. Wherever the Crown has their stolen members, whatever they’ve been doing to them for all this time, Ruby doesn’t even know and she has no way of finding out. 

Unless… 

She has one contact outside of this kingdom. One person she can get in touch with, even without the CCT. She has no idea how much Salem could even help, and she’d really prefer not to be any more in debt to people who might still be her team’s and the world’s enemies… but at this point, if there’s any chance that she could help, Ruby is willing to take it. She’ll pay whatever price it takes to bring her sister and her girlfriend back safely. 

If Salem even asks for a price. Throughout their meetings in Atlas, she’d repeatedly offered deals that on their face seemed slanted in Ruby’s favor, because the real payoff she was looking for was something immaterial: a reputation in her enemy’s mind that she’s safe, trustworthy, and vastly more helpful than Oz. And despite Ruby’s awareness of that fact, it’s still been working. 

So here she sits, against the closet wall with her right hand extended over the bulb of her pet seer, concentrating on Salem’s face and all her memories of meeting her, aiming to forge a connection once again across the thousands of miles between Vacuo and Atlas. 

Ruby tries to remind herself that when it was her among the people kidnapped and lost, thrown into the SDC mines for weeks while her friends on the outside couldn’t locate her, she’d been fine. Mostly. With luck, their lost friends now aren’t being forced into anything worse than a little manual labor and misdirected racism. 

The mist within the seer’s bulb swirls away, and reveals an image of Salem’s face. “Hello again, Ruby,” she greets the girl on the other end. “How go things in Vacuo?”

“Not good,” Ruby replies. “I don’t know how much Hazel’s told you already, but the Council has fallen and Vacuo has a queen now. He and my team went to fight her when she first took over, but she’s got some sort of… pain beam, or something. Hazel had to carry the rest of us out.”

Ruby shudders at the memory. “And even worse, we’ve lost like half our friends. The Queen and her minions have kidnapped them and we can’t figure out where they’ve taken them. All we know is that they traffic in people with strong semblances. They might not even be in Vacuo anymore!” She rubs at one eye, not quite filling with tears yet but she can feel their approach. “Which is why I wanted to talk to you.”

“You think I can find them, all the way from another kingdom?”

“Have you used the lamp’s last question yet?”

Salem startles. “Oh. Er, no, I haven’t actually, but… I wasn’t planning to use it so soon.” She leans in closer and raises one finger. “I believe,” she says, almost conspiratorial in her tone now, “that I’ve found a way to skirt the edges of her rules, and get more information than we’re really meant to. You see, the lamp has three questions per century, not three answers. That’s an important distinction. My plan is to collect things I want to know for the next twenty years or so, then bundle them all together when I ask.”

“Oh.” Ruby tries to contain her disappointment at the clear implication that using the Relic of Knowledge isn’t on the table for any price at the moment. “Do you have any other ideas for how to find people? We asked Oz about using magic and he basically told us it doesn’t work like that…”

“Of course he did. But you’re the one with the crystal ball, viewing a place far distant from yourself, which you achieved via focusing on a specific person while exercising your droplet of magic… so you tell me, Ruby, can magic do what you need or not?”

Well, when she puts it that way, it seems obvious. Ruby can’t mention Pyrrha’s attempts using magic to help, not when Pyrrha’s very existence in the living world is still a secret, but her failures make sense when taking into account the total lack of magical training this newest Fall Maiden has. 

“I can use the seer to look at places… that don’t have another seer there already?” Ruby hardly lets herself hope it’s that simple. “Wait, while you’re here, something else I’ve been meaning to ask. Since this is sort of like a Grimm pet I’ve got here… do the seers have names? Anything other than just ’the seer’?”

“I’ve never named them, but you can if you like. As for your more relevant question… it is possible, but that doesn’t mean you can do it. If you were a Maiden, perhaps. Right now, you are leveraging Grimm connection far more than magic. You would need a good deal more power to view anywhere other than a second seer.”

Ruby purses her lips and looks down, away from the seer’s globe. She thinks for a moment, and then looks up suddenly, grinning like she’s had a revelation. “What if,” she begins, “since back home I have a dog named Zwei… What if I named my new pet Vier? Pronounced just like ‘fear’, you know, since it’s a Grimm? Wouldn’t that be great?”

Salem merely raises one eyebrow. “Did something happen to Drei?”

“Well… no, but… you know what I mean!”

“With a naming convention that weird, you should make it even weirder by skipping one. I like it.” Salem smiles. “Now, I can get a look at your lost teammates’ surroundings, but I’ll need some kind of material focus. Since I doubt you’d want to ship a weapon or a piece of clothing or something all the way to Atlas… I don’t suppose Miss Schnee would be among the lost?”

“Yeah. Her and Yang and Ren and even more.”

“Good. I’ll make a quick trip to her childhood home and find what I need there. Give me a day or two and I’ll get back to you.” 

Mist swirls over the image in Vier’s bulb, and the connection breaks. 

A routine meeting to check on progress. That’s what this was supposed to be. And in a way, Ozma has to admit this still is routine in the sense that Vay Hek is always late, even if it’s not what she or her written schedule desired. 

Her office is one of the few parts of the new royal palace that’s actually fully complete and functional. There’s that, her bedroom, a nice balcony she can be filmed on when giving addresses, that whole wing of the building is pretty well finished while the rest still has months of construction ahead. 

If Vay Hek were here, maybe he could see her nice new office and appreciate it. But who is she kidding, Vay Hek has never appreciated a thing in his life except the occasional act of supreme violence. He wouldn’t know beauty if it punched him in that wide, square jaw of his – except maybe he would, as punching is practically the only language he understands. 

With a thought, Ozma enables her semblance, or one aspect of it. He’s late, as usual, she sends telepathically to her single bonded recipient. How’s everything going on your end?

Oh, you know, her partner responds. Logistically it’s all going just fine, but I’m dreading every second of it.

It’s not an easy task her beloved has in front of her. Dearest Astra, the light of her life, preparing for a mission where no backup can come to her aid if things go wrong… Thankfully, based on what she knows of the newest enemy, she’s unlikely to be in any serious danger. 

You’ll be okay, Ozma reassures her. The plan is foolproof–

Not that it needs to be, Astra interrupts. I’m not a fool.

Ozma sends a mental laugh. Of course not, my dear. And it won’t take long, either. Just–

Her attention snaps back to the scene around her as a large figure appears in the doorway. Vay Hek, a mountain of a man, built all of squares and corners held together with boiling rage. Rage at what, well, he used to be able to answer that question. Ozma isn’t sure if he still can. 

But he’s useful either way. “What can I do for Your Eminence?” he grates out, louder than a reasonable person would speak, though still at the closest to conversational volume that Vay Hek ever really achieves. 

“In general, the same things you’ve been doing. Right now, however, I’d like a status report on how all that’s been going.” Ozma smiles sweetly as her servant kneels before her. “When can I expect a functional Fomorian?”

“Construction is nearly complete,” Hek almost shouts. “If it weren’t for those maggots who work there, my magnificent machine would be done by now!”

He says he’s close, Ozma sends telepathically. “Now, now,” she chides aloud, “I’m sure they’re all trying their hardest to meet your exacting standards.”

About time, Astra sends back. He’s been working on that for more than a year now.

Vay Hek fumes silently for a moment, managing to contain his rage only because he is in the presence of his Queen. “The Fomorian’s eye obliterates its targets,” Hek admits. “But it barely hovers! It doesn’t fly! And those fungus-brains keep getting themselves sick from omega radiation!”

“Have you tried… shielding the reactor?” Ozma points out the obvious. It can never hurt with someone like this. 

“The engineers say they’ve done it! The engineers say the core is safe as long as people follow regulations. Those blasted engineers use my tools, build my machine, breathe my air, and they think they know better than me how any of this works?

I’m sure they do, Ozma thinks to herself, trying very hard not to let a smile reach her face. 

What was that? Apparently that thought wasn’t entirely to herself, as Astra sends a confused reply. 

Oh, nothing, just Vay Hek being his usual self. He seems to have a problem with workplace safety.

Who doesn’t, these days? Kela’s got Grimm by the dozen and I wouldn’t trust some of these cages. Anyway, I’ve completed phase one, and I hate it.

Ozma realizes she’s been silent for a while, and clears her throat. “I suggest you let the engineers work without troubling them,” she says, and Hek’s face grows a shade redder at the thought. “Let me know when everything works, hopefully soon, and then maybe I’ll take it out for a test run. Got it?”

“Yes, Your Eminence.”

“Good. You may go.” Ozma waits for the door to shut behind him as he leaves, then pushes her chair back, rests her feet on the desk, and resumes contact with Astra. Phase two tonight, then. Maybe we could put phase one to use a little in the meantime?

I don’t think so. I’d probably be sick. Maybe you’d like to come see for yourself?”

Alright, but just for a little while. Anything for you, my love. Ozma channels the other part of her semblance – the main part, the part that necessitates having a single bonded target that her semblance is always linked to until she sets another. Not that she ever would set another, of course. She and Astra have known each other all their lives, and nothing will ever separate them. 

Her aura flares up, brilliant red, and miles away Astra’s does the same. In a dizzying snap, they swap places. 

Queen Astra swings her legs off the office desk. She takes out a hand mirror from the top drawer and admires herself as she stands. “Much better,” she murmurs aloud. “I am not looking forward to the next few days.”

“—and that was our first big encounter with the Crown, although it was really more them than us.” Sun gestures vaguely to the three members of Team CFVY present. “We really just helped out at the end. And with Grimm cleanup afterwards. And tagged along back to Shade.”

Velvet, the de facto leader in Coco’s absence, laughs. “Yeah, you missed a lot. Like the entire fight against Bertilak. If it hadn’t been for Yatsu’s semblance, we’d have had to fight him and Carmine.”

Yatsuhashi shudders. It’s difficult for Clover, someone much less familiar with these kids than they are with each other, to tell whether it’s at the thought of his semblance or fighting this ‘Bertilak’ and the Carmine lady that Velvet had been rather vocally complaining about earlier.

“Carmine wasn’t that bad,” Fox protests.

“Fox?”

“Mhm?”

“We love you but you’re very, very wrong about this. Carmine was horrible. And you can’t even say she’s pretty as an excuse for why you think she’s not that bad.”

“Oh, she’s pretty, is she?”

“I—yeah, Coco agrees with me that she’s objectively pretty, but she’s still a bitch! And she’s in prison, and hopefully staying there.”

“Might be hoping too much,” Neptune points out. “The Crown is the government now.”

Velvet sighs. “Fuck.”

“Maybe we’ll be lucky?” Yatsu offers. “Maybe they’ll decide Bertilak was too much trouble and just let her out.”

“Carmine alone is still not lucky.”

As the group devolves into arguing over an (apparently) pretty woman with a telekinesis semblance, Clover can’t really keep himself from losing interest. He keeps an eye on their surroundings, and eventually pulls out his scroll to text Qrow.

Qrow does not respond to the first message, a simple greeting. Nor the second— any luck on your end? —or the third, an unaccompanied winky emoji.

Clover’s starting to get worried when Neptune says, “Hey, am I crazy, or is that some guy falling from the sky?”

Neptune is not, in fact, crazy. Not in that sense, anyway. Clover’s heart jumps into his throat as he realizes just who it is falling, red cape fluttering in the wind. If he’s fast enough, maybe…

His scroll buzzes, Qrow disappears behind a conspicuously tall building, and a little black crow flies up from behind it. Clover checks his scroll. There is exactly one text.

cant talk im bird, reads the extremely eloquent message Qrow had apparently decided to shift back midair just to type out.

That probably means that he’s aware of being texted when he’s a bird. And definitely can’t talk while he’s a bird. Noted.

“That’s just Qrow, he’s fine,” Clover tells the group. “What were you talking about again?”

“Carmine,” Velvet mutters. “I do not want to have to deal with her again. But also, for all we know, she’s been out of prison.”

“She hasn’t come after us yet,” Fox replies, “so I’d guess that she isn’t. Or if she is, she’s otherwise occupied.”

“Well… someone came after Coco.”

“And Sage, and Scarlet, and everyone else,” Sun points out. “Don’t think you were being singled out there. But… hey, you know what?”

One of Velvet’s rabbit ears quirks up. “Yeah?”

“At least Captain Vor isn’t coming back!”

Neptune makes a disgusted noise. “Wow, yeah, fuck that guy.”

“Name sounds vaguely familiar,” Fox says thoughtfully. “Was that the one going on and on about how powerful he was?”

“The one that we didn’t manage to bring into custody, yep,” Velvet confirms. She looks at Clover and amends, “In our defense, we did try!”

Clover snorts. “I’m not a cop anymore. You’re fine.”

“I’m going to take a wild guess that the cops didn’t want the bottom half of him,” Sun says. “How we all wound up dealing with Vor and it didn’t click that both our teams were investigating the Crown…”

“Well, you have an excuse,” Velvet replies. She smirks. “I think you lost your team’s collective braincell with Scarlet.”

“No, no, Sage had it, but you’re not wrong.”

“Hold on. Back up a bit.” Clover’s trying to make some sense of this. “How do you accidentally …”

“Cut someone in half?” Velvet is the very picture of innocence when she adds, cheerfully, “Yatsu didn’t realize his aura was that low.”

“Just because it was my sword,” Yatsu grumbles half-heartedly.

“I’m reasonably certain,” Fox cuts in, “that Yatsu brought his aura down with his sword, and Velvet didn’t realize it was down already when she swung a copy in. At least, that’s the story we’re sticking with.”

“He deserved it,” Velvet says with a shrug. “You know what? We do need some good news today. And that’s one Crown lackey we know won’t be causing trouble again. People don’t just come back from the dead.”

In the next few moments, Clover’s semblance thoroughly fails him, because usually he doesn’t choke on his own spit out of sheer shock.

“Um,” Clover says, “can we say that people usually don’t come back from the dead? There’s, well, the entire Ozbot situation. And… are you familiar with the real Theodore’s semblance?”

Having lunch with Ozbot isn’t anyone’s idea of a good time. And yet here they are, the four bodies that are left of Teams RWBY and JNPR, around the living room table for a much-needed break from searching the kingdom. Ozbot, unable to actually eat in his new robotic body, watches them awkwardly. 

“So did you get anything useful out of Professor Rumpole?” Jaune asks around a mouthful of sandwich. 

“I did, actually,” Ozbot says, and for a brief moment there is hope around the table. “In the sense that a known negative is still more information than we had before. Your teammates are not within the walls of Vacuo city.”

In an instant, all that hope comes crashing down. If they’re not in Vacuo anymore… they could be anywhere on Remnant and the search becomes infinitely harder. And even more concerningly, it would imply the Crown already has a network operating outside the kingdom, and their enemy is even stronger than they’d thought. 

“How did you find this out, exactly?” Ruby asks cautiously. Maybe it’s not certain after all?

“Shade keeps a central database of every student’s aura meters, which links into the professors’ scrolls as needed to monitor sparring, and so forth. This connection can be turned the other way if necessary, to triangulate a student’s scroll relative to the CCT towers. As we only have one tower at the moment, the data is limited, but the signal strength is weak enough to tell they are not within the city.”

“A database of the students,” Nora muses. “So all we know is that Coco, Scarlet, and Sage aren’t in Vacuo anymore.”

“Unlikely they’d split them up, though,” Jaune suggests. “I bet they’re all together, wherever they are.”

Blake sets down her own sandwich and raises one finger to forestall interruptions until she can swallow. “While you were there, did you tell Rumpole that her boss is a fake?”

“She knows that her ‘Theo’ works for the Grineer,” Oz reports. “That he’s not the real Theo… it never came up. But I can’t imagine he could fool someone who’s spent years with both of them.”

“That seems like an important thing to find out for sure,” Ruby comments dryly. 

“Professor Rumpole did suggest searching the other towns within Vacuo territory,” Ozbot supplies. “She considers it far more likely to find them there than outside the kingdom entirely. The Crown has existed for thirty years, but only recently have they begun to cast their gaze outward. For now, they remain a fairly localized problem.”

Suddenly, Ruby’s right hand starts tingling and itching, and she scratches at it absently while she thinks. But the sensation won’t go away, and when she finally looks down she sees why. Salem’s emblem pulses dimly over the back of her hand, hardly visible in its fuchsia over the red of her glove, but enough that Ruby hides it in her lap lest Ozbot see something he shouldn’t. 

Thinking quickly, she pulls out her scroll. “Sun’s texting me,” she lies, and leans over to show Blake her empty notepad app. She types out a few words: Salem calling. Keep Oz distracted. and pretends it’s a response to the message that never truly came in, then leans the other way to show it to Jaune and Pyrrha. “Come on, Blake. I’m sure we’d all rather talk than type.”

Ruby stands up from the table, carefully keeping her left hand clasped over her right, and leads Blake away into the team’s bedroom where they can shut the door behind them. Only then does she release her grip and show the glowing emblem that she’s assuming means she’s wanted for a call. 

Her guess seems to be correct, as Vier’s mist is pulsing yellow and they seem unusually swift to unpack themselves and float to Ruby’s side. She and Blake sit down against the wall on the far side from the door, just in case that little added distance will muffle their voices just a bit more. 

But when she waves her hand over the bulb and clears away the mist, Salem is not alone on the other end. She sits on the edge of a blue-quilted bed in a blue-wallpapered room, and right next to her is Willow Schnee.

“Mom Schnee?” Ruby fixates on the one person who shouldn’t be there. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

“We didn’t,” Salem explains, “but she also has a strong desire to see Weiss found, so…”

“Let’s keep our voices down,” Ruby says hurriedly, with a glance toward the door. “Ozbot’s just in the next room. He thinks we’re talking to someone else.” She elbows Blake lightly. “Start thinking of what Sun could be telling us, then make sure he gets the message to play along later.”

“I see your lying skills are progressing nicely,” Salem comments. 

“Apparently,” Ruby agrees, with none of the old animosity toward the very concept of it that she’d once shown. “You know, when you said you were going to Weiss’s old home, I kind of figured you’d break in quietly, not… knock on the front door.”

Willow only smiles. “I still would have found her. My girlfriend – fiancee? – never uses the front door.”

Ruby and Blake exchange a glance. “We can not tell Weiss about this,” they immediately agree. “In fact, don’t even tell us who it is,” Blake adds. “Just send us a wedding invitation and we’ll film Weiss’s reaction.”

Salem clears her throat. “I came to the Schnee Manor,” she begins, “looking for anything that would have a strong enough connection to Weiss that I could use it to scry on her location. And I found it, right here. What could work better as a focus than the target’s own mother?”

“Well, I don’t know anything about magic, but I guess that makes sense,” Ruby agrees. Even if she still can’t quite wrap her mind around the fact that Mom Schnee is friendly with Salem now too. “Did you find her?”

“Your friends are together, I saw that much. They appear to have been pressed into service in some kind of arena or colosseum. A fairly large place, crowded, quite noisy. It was hard to tell more than that, but I got the distinct impression that it’s… underground?”

Blake looks a little hesitant to directly address Salem, but eventually says, “Could you tell if they were in Vacuo, at least?”

“I have studied many things in my long life, but recognizing places by the look of the stone is not something I’m an expert in. I’d suggest asking yourself - or asking others – just how many underground colosseums could there be?”

Blake nods, and looks to Ruby as if to say well, she’s got a point there. They seem to have gotten all the information they’re going to, but while they have the world’s only real-time connection into or out of Atlas, they might as well make full use of it. 

“What’s happening up there?” Blake asks.

“We’re not missing any major disasters, I hope?” Ruby adds with a grin. “We tend to find ourselves in the middle of quite a few, these days.”

“Well, when my agents are causing major disasters and your friends are chasing down my agents, I can see why. Thankfully, that era does finally seem to be at an end… and not just because ‘my agents’ and ‘your friends’ are rapidly becoming the same thing. Atlas has been just fine in your absence.”

Willow seems to perk up at these last words, and she slides closer to Salem to make sure she’s well within the seer’s field of view. “When you find Weiss, tell her that her brother is doing well at Atlas Academy. He’s staying with it, even making some friends! I’m so proud of him. And of Weiss and all of you, staying strong through everything that happens…”

“Aww, thanks, mom!” Ruby flashes a sunny grin. “We’ll find her and let her know,” she promises. She leans against Blake’s shoulder and speaks softly into her two pairs of ears. “You thought of a good story yet? Ozbot’s going to be curious what’s holding us up so long.”

Blake chuckles. “We can handle it. He knows Sun loves to talk.” She throws an arm around Ruby’s shoulders and addresses the two figures in the seer again. “Thanks so much for your help, both of you. I think we can get our friends back from here.”

“You’re sure you want to do this?” Eve Lumen gives a dubious glance over her shoulder as she leads the way outside, weapon in hand. 

“I’m sure,” Julie replies, carrying her own weapon just behind. “I’ve got a range advantage on Xuri. I don’t against you.”

As if to prove her point, she pushes the door shut with the end of her long staff, then pauses to admire it in the sunlight. It’s a good six inches taller than she is, metal patterned to look like wood, with a twist near the top so the last foot extends just out of alignment with the rest. There’s a sizable chunk of white air dust embedded near that crook, and all along the staff’s length runs a filigree web of more dust which gives the appearance that the weapon was assembled out of countless shards. 

And inside where no one can see, it holds another trick: a core rod of earth dust along the staff’s entire length. With the two types in conjunction, it’s light when it needs to be light and heavy when it needs to be heavy. Namely, it’s easy to swing around, but it hits like a truck. Truly, a weapon worthy of a huntress… in the hands of a woman whose only goal in life should have been the healing of the innocent. A veterinarian, now practicing to defend herself and her friends, knowing she might one day have to take a life to keep all she loves safe from harm. 

She faces Eve and takes a ready stance, only for her teacher and friend to lean her glaive up against the side of the house. “One thing you need to know,” Eve says, “is that the Crown’s goons, for the most part, are not trained huntsmen. They have aura, usually, but only a few have their semblances and you shouldn’t expect to face trick weapons. Let me see what you can do to just your basic inept thug.”

Eve takes out a simple switchblade and opens it up. “One person only, coming at you with nothing but a knife and a hard skull. Don’t worry about hurting me, just pretend I’m the enemy and take me down.”

Julie nods, and then Eve is running at her with the blade raised high. She waits, even as her opponent comes within a staff-length and continues to close, and then when the time is right – she brings the bottom end of her staff around in a quick half-circle right through Eve’s shins, pushing them out from under her, then flips it around to bring the top part down hard onto her back. 

The sting of a blade against her aura flares in her side as Eve goes down hard. The hit is nothing she can’t handle, but it’s still a reminder that she could do better. A reminder of what could happen if she gets in over her head and loses that aura protection. 

“Not bad,” Eve tells her as she regains her feet. “The classic pancake, just like Xuri’s told me about. Sweep and slam, and then you can follow up with a hard stab if you’re feeling it. Now, I’ve fought staff-wielders before so I was prepared – Her Eminence uses one herself on occasion – so I did still get a hit in. What I’d advise is to jump back after your sweep, and then slide your hands lower so you still have range for the downswing. Here, like this.”

She holds out a hand and Julie passes the staff over. Eve goes through the motion of attacking an enemy's legs, left hand guiding the weapon while her right holds it steady up above, and then she hops backward a pace. Instead of returning her left hand to the balance point for her followup attack, she keeps it where it is and pivots the staff around it, even bringing her right down past the center for added power. 

The end of the staff passes through the same area she’d swept through in the beginning, and Eve then lunges forward again to thrust the weapon’s point hard into the dirt with the full weight of her body behind it. 

“Just like that. See?” She hands the staff back to Julie. “You can do that with a glaive too,” she adds, leaving it up to her friend’s imagination to make the substitution and to realize that the final stab would be with the bladed end. 

“That certainly works, but… your hands were well outside the proper positions for a staff, for a while there.”

Eve smirks. “That they were. But ‘proper’ does not mean ‘mandatory’, it only means that’s where you have the most control. It’s your neutral position, where you start and where you come back to in between. But what’s the most important aspect of fighting, or of almost any new skill?”

“Adaptability,” Julie repeats as Xuri had taught her. “Being able to improvise, even when you don’t know what to do. Although, in my line of work, you really don’t want to have to improvise.”

“Very good.” Eve folds the switchblade and retrieves her glaive instead. “Deviating from what you know, what you think you should do, that’s fine as long as you can come back again. Just don’t overextend, or you’ll leave yourself open. If that means sacrificing a little maneuverability to gain reach and power when you need it, great. Go ahead and swing that thing like a baseball bat if you have to. There are no rules, only guidelines. You decide which ones you’ll follow.”

Eve raises her weapon and points it at Julie’s chest. “Now. I trust Xuri’s gone over the basics with you enough by now, and you’re right about us needing every hand we’ve got. Let’s accelerate your training.”

Who is Ren, without Nora?

It’s a question he’s asked himself throughout many a daily meditation. The closest he’s ever come to an answer is some lengthy philosophizing on whether the question even can be answered, by anyone. 

Who are you? A name isn’t enough in itself. Neither is a set of relationships to others. Nor is a list of skills, or goals, or any other traits that show what a person has, rather than is.

There’s a related question — What do you want? — which is much easier to answer. In immediate terms, Ren wants to reunite with the rest of his team. But in general, as the question needs to be asked, Ren’s answer wouldn’t be much different from any other huntsman. He wants peace between the kingdoms, and everyone secure in their homes without fear of sword nor Grimm. And he wants the right of self-determination for all, even knowing some will use that right for evil. He wants an improvement to this world, but not its replacement by a copy of the first era, and certainly not its destruction. 

But what one wants and who one is, intertwined as they may seem, could not be more different, at least in Ren’s mind. Too often, as he’s found, the wanting becomes a distraction, and it’s all too easy to chase after it for a lifetime and forget about the other side entirely. 

That’s not to say action isn’t important, or that one must give up one’s ideals. But even though doing always outranks intending or believing, it’s still a far cry from being. Who is Ren, just as himself? It’s a lot to think about, and meditate on, and maybe, one day, come up with a satisfactory answer to. 

But right now Ren isn’t thinking about any of that, because he’s laying face down on the front porch of Ozbot’s safehouse, weakly banging with one fist at the bottom of the door. And he keeps at it, one thud slowly after another, until the door opens. 

“Oh gods,” a voice comes from above him. “Hey, I need help! Ren’s here!”

In moments more pairs of feet surround him, and Ren is lifted between many hands and taken inside, to rest on a couch in the living room. A face swims in his vision and he blinks blearily. “Nora?”

“This is Jaune,” the figure most clear in his field of view says, and Ren rubs at his eyes. “What happened to you? Were you with the others? Did anyone else escape too?”

“One thing at a time,” another voice sounds. Qrow. 

“And what are you wearing?” Nora asks, her voice standing out from the din. 

Ren struggles to shift his body and look down for just a moment. “Grineer uniform,” he manages. “We all… have to wear them. I… I was… poisoned, I think?” 

Qrow notices he’s shaking slightly, and goes to fetch a blanket to throw over him. “Better not be fucking scorpion venom this time,” he grumbles. 

Beside him, Jaune grimaces as well at the memory of election night in Mantle when he’d been caught in the crossfire of an assassination attempt. But at least Tyrian is behind bars now, for however long that lasts. 

“A dart… in the back. I got past the Grimm guards. My semblance. But the human guards…”

“Was everyone else with you? Six of you? Did they get out too?”

Ren shakes his head slightly. “I’m the only one. But yes, everyone is there. Yang has my weapons. They sent me out, to…” He shivers even more. “I think this poison was meant to take effect sooner. To weaken me before I got away. They don’t want me dead, I just… need to rest, I think.”

Jaune nods, and gestures to Nora. “Yeah. Come on, let’s get him to bed.” Together they lift him by the legs and shoulders and carry him into the team’s room. “You think you can change clothes, or…”

“I’ll sleep in this, it’s fine.” Ren waves the two of them back a step, and kicks off his shoes. “Should be… somewhat better, at least… by the morning. And then… we’ll get the others back.”

Chapter Text

Another day, another morning meeting to go over new ideas and divide up what little is left unexplored in Vacuo among all the various teams. Except this time, something is different. 

This time, they have Ren. 

“You feeling any better?” Ruby asks brightly. 

Ren leans back in a padded armchair and gives a nod. “Better, not great.” He tilts one hand in a so-so motion. “Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, but I think the poison is mostly worn off.”

“Well, you’re looking a lot healthier than last night!” Ruby plops down on the nearby sofa as the last of their friends trickle into the main room. 

“It’s good to see you up and about,” Ozbot comments. “Anything you can tell us about what happened to you and the others will be very helpful.”

Nora sits down on the arm of Ren’s chair and puts a hand on his shoulder. Ren glances up at her and smiles briefly before addressing the group. “The people who grabbed us were…” He considers how to phrase his words. “Very well chosen for the task. Not opportunistic. Kidnapping was their goal from the start.”

“Could you tell anything about them?” Blake asks. “Weapons? Semblances?”

“One’s semblance, I can only assume, silences an entire volume of space. I couldn’t hear a thing, and clearly nobody could hear me either. Then they had a sack over my head before I could see much else.”

“Wait a minute,” Ruby says, her eyes narrowed. “We heard Weiss cry out. I turned back for her, but she was already gone.”

Ren shrugs. “Maybe she hit the silence person and distracted them for a second? I don’t know.”

“And then they took you out of the city, and to… a cave? An old dust mine?”

Ren looks sharply over at Ruby. “Yes. You already knew? How did you find where they took us?”

A flicker of guilt crosses Ruby’s face and she looks down and away from Ozbot. “Well, uh, we didn’t know… I was just thinking, we’ve had Qrow searching from above and he hasn’t seen anything, so where’s the one place he can’t see? Underground.”

Qrow claps his niece on the back. “Good thinking, kiddo. Vacuo was founded over the world’s largest known dust deposit, not that you’d know it now. It dried up a long time ago, but that just means there’s abandoned mineshafts all over the place.”

The sound of someone knocking comes from the front foyer and Clover heads over to open the door. The five remaining members of Teams CFVY and SSSN all file in behind him and take up positions around the living room with the rest. 

“Hey, guys!” Sun waves. “Good to see you back, Ren. Hope we haven’t missed too much?”

“He was just telling us where he’s been. In an old mine, apparently.” Ruby elbows Blake lightly. “When we were kidnapped and thrown into a mine, at least it was still operational!”

“And we were able to find allies on the inside,” Blake adds. “What did they have you doing? Not mining, I hope?”

“Nope. Fighting.”

Across the room, Velvet’s face shows a horrified realization. “Oh no… You don’t mean…” She and Fox speak together. “Rathuum?”

Ren gives a grim nod in response. “Rathuum. You know it?” He glances around at the others, but his own team seems unfamiliar with the word. 

“Why didn’t we think of that?” Velvet asks to no one in particular. “Coco and I have been there, a couple times. It’s a fight club – live weaponry, cash betting, all highly illegal. We suspected it had ties to the Crown but never had proof.”

“Could you get back there again?” Ren asks her. “My memory of yesterday is a little spotty. I’m… not entirely sure how I managed to navigate home, in that state.”

“Now, hold up a moment.” Qrow raises one hand to call attention. “We know where they are now, but let’s not go charging in blindly. Ren, if you had to plan a jailbreak, how would you do it?”

“You might be overestimating the Crown. We have magic here.” Ren waves a hand toward Jaune and Pyrrha. “And the element of surprise. We probably could just run in and bulldoze the place.”

“Maybe so, but Qrow’s got a point.” Ruby stands up and begins pacing around the room as she speaks. “Blake and I fought Her Eminence the night everyone was kidnapped. She had some kind of… something… that she could just point at someone to give them unbelievable pain. Only one person at a time, but it’s enough to stop you in your tracks and take you out of the fight. We don’t know how many of those the Crown has, or how to deal with them in any way other than sheer numbers.”

“Well, at least we’ve got numbers!” Jaune’s attempt to raise the mood falls a little flat, but he manages to pivot into a serious idea. “We have most of four teams, three adults, a Maiden… maybe two Maidens.”

“Right,” Ruby takes over for him. “Team CFVY, you know Jade Goldwing, you can get her and the people she knows. Pyrrha, didn’t you and Coco meet with someone else on the Summer Maiden’s team once?” A nod gives her all the answer she needs. “Blake and I can grab some other allies, the ones who helped us that night. Clover, you know Nora Night, I’m sure she’s got something. Team SSSN, you can… you can just bring yourselves.”

Ozbot fixes Ruby with a stare. “Who are these other allies you say you fought with?”

Ruby returns the look without flinching. “Friends of Ms. Goldwing,” she says truthfully. “Another professor at Shade, maybe a few more like-minded students as well.” 

“Hmmm.” Ozbot taps his cane on the floor. “We’ll need to know the layout of the mine as well. Velvet, if you can point it out on a map, there’s bound to be historical records available. We should take some time to gather allies and plan, and then we move in.”

“Everyone know where you’re headed?” Qrow grabs Clover by the arm. “Come on, Cloves, let’s go find that lady who kicked my butt. This time, I think I’ll try knocking on the door before I go in.”

Black smoke rises over the stage of one of Shade Academy’s classrooms as Ruby slips in. It’s another with amphitheater style seating so all can see the battles and demonstrations below, nearly full with a class already in session, and unlike the Grimm Studies of Beacon, there’s not a single student asleep. 

“Very good,” Professor Rainart commends the single student on the stage with him, then looks to the rest of the class. “See how he did that: ignore the eight legs, go straight for the body. They can kick you, but most don’t have the strength to damage aura or even knock you down. What you have to worry about is a jumping bite. Let’s see a few more.”

The student, a boy with a large two-headed hammer, nods and stands ready. Hazel flips open another of the many cages at the back of the stage, and three spider-Grimm scuttle out. 

The boy hefts his weapon and charges at the leftmost spider, and brings it down on the Grimm’s central body. There is an audible crack as it smashes through the bony white plating on its back, and then the creature dissolves into smoke. The student pivots toward the others, but he’s a split second too slow to face the next spider now flanking him. 

The Grimm launches itself forward, using the same extra-springy legs that can carry its kind high into the sky to drift on silk balloons over the kingdom walls, and almost as fast as a striking snake it sinks its mandibles into the boy’s aura. The student stumbles and falls, but manages a sideways swing as he goes down which bats the spider away and breaks two of its legs. 

The third Grimm comes at him as he’s standing up again, and he plants the back end of his hammer into the stage to let the next pair of spider jaws thud into it harmlessly. In a moment he’s back on his feet and crushes the beast, and he turns toward where the injured one had last been. 

But it’s not there. There is only a plume of smoke spreading over the classroom, and a student from the front row standing with sword in hand. Apparently that spider had decided to find a different target, and paid for it. 

“An excellent demonstration,” Hazel calls out. “Of both what to do and what to avoid. You may take your seat.”

He glances toward the clock on the back wall of the classroom, and his eyes pass over Ruby in the back row as well. “Ah, I see we have a guest huntress visiting today!” He waves for Ruby to come forward. “We still have a few minutes left in class, and this will be a great way to start into next week’s topic.”

She wasn’t supposed to be noticed. The plan was for Ruby to slip in late like this, then catch Hazel after class was over to ask him about potentially helping out again. But there’s no escaping it now. She’s a legitimate huntress and she can show these students how to fight… despite being probably the youngest person in the room. 

But she can’t back out now. Ruby walks down the aisle, and at Hazel’s direction steps up onto the stage. 

“Our next topic,” Professor Rainart declares, “will be a little different. You all know how to kill Grimm. But how do you deal with Grimm without fighting? Can anyone suggest why you might want to do this? Ruby?”

Ruby gulps under the sudden spotlight, but thinks back to the last big Grimm invasion in Vacuo. “If you’re chasing down a person instead, and you don’t have time to stop for Grimm,” she says. 

“That’s one reason, yes. Any others?” Hazel points at a raised hand in the audience. 

“If your aura goes down and you can’t get to safety?”

“Also important. Next?”

“If you’re escorting civilians and can’t take your attention off them to fight?” another student proposes. 

Hazel waggles one hand. “Depends how many there are, but maybe. Anyone else?” But there are no further suggestions, so he continues on his own. “Who do you think keeps classrooms like mine supplied? Who gives researchers their Grimm to study? Somebody has to capture these things alive! And you all are going to learn how.”

He steps up to another of the many cages that line the stage and flips it open, but there’s nothing within. Then he crosses to the other side and releases a lion-like Grimm that Ruby’s never seen before. Backing away slowly, he addresses the class, “Your goal will be to transfer a Grimm from one cage to another, like so. This will be on the exam, and extra points will be given for not touching it at any point.”

“Step one is to blank out your mind,” Hazel says as he continues to step back, right hand raised toward the lion and slowly guiding it across the stage. “The Grimm see emotions. Their normal eyesight is very poor. If you clear your mind, you can become almost invisible to them. So remember: conceal, don’t feel. You can still be afraid, but don’t let them know.”  

Hazel stops in the center of the stage and circles around the lion Grimm, but instead of bullying it backward into the second cage, he waves Ruby over to take his place. She’s more than a little apprehensive about the whole process, especially since her single year at Beacon hadn’t covered capturing live Grimm, but one detail catches her eye and gives her hope. Surely unnoticed by any of the students, Salem’s emblem is glowing faintly over the back of Hazel’s hand. 

Ruby tries her best to quiet her racing mind. If this really works on Grimm other than seers, even if only one at a time… she’s learning as much as the actual class here, even if not quite on the same subject. 

She holds out her right hand toward the creature, focuses not on clearing her mind completely but on asserting command just as she had when she’d first received Vier as an unexpected gift, and takes a step forward. The lion takes a step back. Ruby advances further and still the beast retreats, and she guides it almost effortlessly into the empty cage behind and slams the door shut. 

“An excellent demonstration from young huntress Ruby Rose!” Hazel declares. “Begin learning this skill now and it will help you throughout your career. You’ll only get better with experience – with confidence. Five years from now, what will you think when a Grimm comes for you then? You’ll have had this class, so you’ll think: a Grimm? Who cares? The Grimm never bothered me anyway.”

Ruby steps off to the side, but doesn’t quite leave the stage. Hazel calls for a volunteer and gets one: a girl in purple, with a battleaxe slung over her back. Once again the heavy door opens and Hazel carefully leads the lion Grimm a few paces out from its cage, and then the student takes over in his place. 

She’s nervous, Ruby can tell immediately. She’s just as inexperienced with the concept as Ruby herself, but without any magical help to let her cheat a little. But it must still be possible without Grimm control, for as Hazel said, someone has to keep these classrooms supplied. 

The lion raises one massive paw and takes a swipe, and the student jumps back out of the way and raises both hands as if to calm it. She takes a deep breath and lets it out, but her hands are shaking and her mind very much not clear of all emotion. 

And then the Grimm pounces. It bowls the girl over easily and periwinkle aura flares brightly under first the impact and then a savage bite. The student struggles to throw it off and retrieve her axe, but can’t quite. Hazel starts toward her at a jog, ready to grab the Grimm cat by the scruff of its neck and haul it away. 

But Ruby can’t wait that long. White light erupts from her eyes in what she hopes is a relatively narrow cone, and fades a moment later to reveal Hazel grasping at air and no trace of the offending lion. 

“Well,” Hazel says, not looking at her. “That’s one way to deal with a situation that’s gotten out of hand.” He helps his student up and sends her back to her seat, only then with his gaze coming to rest on Ruby. “But it’s not something the rest of the class can replicate. And I’d warn you against… friendly fire.”

He raises his hand meaningfully and Ruby takes his meaning, glancing at her own, and thankfully a quick test shows the magical glove within remains intact. 

“We’ll end here for today. For next week, I want you to practice blanking out all emotions, and we’ll pick up again here. Class dismissed.”

Hazel doesn’t even leave the stage as his students file out one by one. He knows Ruby wouldn’t just show up to his workplace unannounced and not have something to discuss with him. But he’s good enough at hiding emotions that Ruby genuinely can’t tell if he’s pleased with their two teams’ newfound cooperation, or if he’s only going along with it because Salem told him to. 

“Uh, hi,” Ruby says, and waves awkwardly. “Sorry for killing your lion. But, well…” She glances all around at the now empty room before continuing. “I know where my missing teammates are now, we’re forming an attack plan, and we’d like as many allies as we can get. You don’t even have to be right there with us, but if you want to cause some chaos and take the Grineer down a peg, you’ll have the opportunity to do so.”

“I’m listening.” Hazel takes a seat on the edge of the stage, and Ruby sits next to him. “Tell me what you’ve got.”

Pyrrha Nikos is a woman on a mission. Currently, that mission is getting her boyfriend a boyfriend, because he will never make a move on his own. How they got together is proof enough of that. In order for Jaune to actually get a girlfriend (not that hard, Pyrrha would know) she had to confess her feelings, literally die, be stuck in Cinder’s head for way too long, wind up in his head, and then confess her feelings again.

So… yeah. She is not letting him do that again, because for one thing Pyrrha would rather not have anyone else die even if they do come back eventually, and for another she will actually die (again) of sheer second-hand embarrassment if he takes that long to air out his feelings.

Once is more than enough dying for Pyrrha, thank you very much. So, she marches through the house, looking for one very specific teammate. One of her other teammates, current boyfriend, and hopefully Ren’s future boyfriend, of course, is vocally protesting against this.

“Hush, you,” Pyrrha mutters. She peeks into a bedroom, catches a glimpse of Ruby and Blake playing video games, waves, and moves onto the next one. “Even if he rejects you, so what, Mr. I’m going to crush heavily on a known lesbian for my entire time at Beacon despite her best efforts? Rejection’s not the end of the world. It’s healthy. Though you maybe should try not to get rejected by the same person that many times.”

Internally, Jaune sighs. “How did we even get to Weiss?”

“Your hopelessness at romance? If I hadn’t thought someone else already asked her to the dance—like, you know, literally anyone on her team who she is now currently dating —I might have done so myself.”

“Okay, you would have at least had a chance with her.”

“Course I would have. Beacon Weiss put me on a pedestal, just like everyone else. She just put herself right up there with me.” 

“It’ll be good to see her again.”

“Yeah, it will be. Just like it was good to see Ren. Don’t think I’ve forgotten!” Pyrrha throws open another door. This room’s empty. Why did Ozbot’s hideout have to have so many damn rooms? How many people was he expecting to house here, an entire army or something?

“...it was too much to hope that you had, huh.”

“Yep!” Finally, Pyrrha peers out the back door—and sees Ren meditating on the back step. She grins.

Jaune, in the back of their head, says, “Is it really too late to talk you out of this?”

“Given that Ren was actually gone for a while, and I don’t want it to have to get any worse? Yes. Given that you will wait for it to get much worse before doing anything? Also yes!” Pyrrha opens the door and says, in a sing-song voice, “Hey, Ren!”

Ren looks up with a start. “…Jaune?”

She shakes her head.  “Almost! Pyrrha currently, but just for a bit. Jaune’s got something he wants to tell you—”

“I do not,” Jaune protests, but unfortunately for him she’s the one in control right now and therefore the only one who can hear his protests. This is really for his own good. And if Pyrrha would be open to dating Ren herself later, well, that is only a little relevant here. Right now this is about Ren and Jaune.

“—he does and he is going to tell you about it or I will actually die, again, and neither of you wants that, now, do you? That’s what I thought. Go for it, Jaune.”

And with that, Pyrrha passes the body’s controls back over to Jaune. Mentally, anyway. Physically, the only change is a flash of yellow-white from his eyes, and then Jaune sits down next to Ren.

“So,” Jaune starts. “Um. Is it hot out here, or is it just you?”

Internally, Pyrrha groans. She is sorely tempted to take control back just to facepalm. Hard. Maybe even hard enough to break her own aura, because goddammit Jaune.

“No pickup lines,” Pyrrha hisses.

“No pickup lines,” Jaune repeats. “But—”

“Just tell him how you feel. It’s not that hard.”

“Just tell him how I feel. I… okay. I’ll do my best.”

Ren, meanwhile, looks at them. “You’re… talking to Pyrrha?”

“Yep,” Jaune confirms. “She isn’t helping.”

“Excuse you, I am absolutely helping,” Pyrrha retorts, “and it’s not my fault you aren’t accepting said help for what it is.”

Jaune doesn’t verbally respond to her this time, but he does nod. He looks at Ren again, takes a deep breath, and says, “You know… I’m really glad we were on the same team. Beacon’s a while in the past, now, but I remember Pyrrha and I almost instinctively hooking up with you and Nora, and I remember thinking, hey, Ruby and the others are cool and all, but I want to be on their team. And then we were, and I was the leader for some reason, and… well, you know how you and Nora are together-together now? Like she always said you weren’t?”

Ren blinks. “We’re what?”

“You’re still not? Didn’t you, like… kiss at the election party, or something?”

“Okay, this team is hopeless,” Pyrrha cuts in. “Tell him we’re going to get on that too because oh my gods.”

Jaune relays Pyrrha’s message, and then says, “Well, um, anyway, barring that. I kind of… Pyrrha and I are kind of dating. It’s a bit complicated when only one of us is in control of the body at any one time, but we’re figuring it out.”

“Oh,” Ren says. “Congrats.”

“Thank you! But that’s not why Pyrrha forced me here against my will, it’s because… um… I think you’re really neat too. I mean, you’re Ren! Literal ninja with a non-literal heart of gold! And I think I’ve been in love with you for a lot longer than I’ve been willing to admit it.”

Ren blinks. He stares at Jaune for so long that Pyrrha is beginning to think there’s no way this can end except in rejection. And then, just when Pyrrha is about to prompt Jaune to reassure him that it’s okay—Ren kisses him.

Ren is really starting to hate Rathuum. As a rule, he tries not to hate anything, simply because hatred tends to cloud one’s judgment and that is the last thing he needs right now, when he’s in the middle of an arena full of Grimm and very much not making out with Jaune on the back porch of Ozbot’s Vacuo safehouse.

As such, he doesn’t hate the strange lady who had grabbed his wrist, turned into a perfect copy of him, and then stolen his scroll and disappeared. He is, however, extremely concerned, but there isn’t much he can do from here, is there?

Nothing except fight, and hope that the audience gets bored of him before the Grimm do. It helps that his fighting style is only as flashy as he makes it, which typically isn’t very much.

Also, (the) Kela de Thaym tends not to appreciate overuse of his semblance. It’s boring when the Grimm can’t see him, is it? Boring is good. Boring gets him taken out of the arena and dumped back with his friends, at least until he or someone else is thrown out to fight again.

“Any sign of her?” He asks once he’s back with the others.

Yang shakes her head. “Nope. Unless, of course, you are her. Hey, speaking of that, what chess piece did you pick up back at Beacon?”

“Technically, I didn’t. Nora was the queen of the castle.” Ren frowns. “If we haven’t seen that… shapeshifter?”

“Shapeshifter,” Yang agrees with a shrug. “Yeah, I’m worried too. But what can we even do?”

“I don’t know.”

Ren doesn’t know, and that? That is something he completely and utterly hates.

“Ammunition is a perfectly normal component of a grocery list,” Nora insists. “Milk, eggs, explosives, cereal…”

“Pancake mix,” Pyrrha (or maybe Jaune, though they’re wearing Pyrrha’s outfit) adds. “Ren’s back now. Maybe he’ll be up to making pancakes.”

“Oh, I hope so!” Nora licks her lips. “Still, what’s wrong with my pink grenades?”

“They’re not food,” Blake says. “A grocery list, by definition, needs to have food on it.”

“The only reason they aren’t food is because you aren’t trying hard enough.”

“I’m—what? Ruby, please back me up here, you can’t just eat live explosives.”

“If you keep saying that,” Ruby points out, “Nora is going to take that as a challenge.”

“Bold of you to assume I haven’t already!” Nora crows. She turns around, spreads her arms, and says, “Come on! Let’s get grenade… pudding? Pancakes?”

“Let’s not,” Pyrrha says, sounding very amused. That’s definitely Pyrrha. Jaune wouldn’t be as responsible.

“But imagine how powerful my semblance would make me!”

“If it was using electricity dust. Otherwise it would probably just kill you.”

Nora scoffs. “Oh, you of little faith—” She walks backward into someone. “Oops! Sorry.”

She turns. They turn. The man standing there—he looks vaguely familiar, and also clearly hasn’t gotten Vacuo-appropriate clothes yet—takes one look at Nora and the girls behind her, and visibly flinches.

Then he runs like hell.

“Uh… Nora?” Pyrrha asks. “What did you do to that man?”

“I didn’t bump into him that hard!”

“No, you didn’t,” Blake says thoughtfully. Then she snaps her fingers. “That’s one of the enforcers. The one who left Atlas when Tyrian was murdering all of them for Vox—”

“I still can’t believe you had to work with him.” Pyrrha looks mildly concerned.

“—and the one who got scapegoated for said murders after he fled because Eudico is nothing if not an opportunist, and also because I’m pretty sure she panicked.”

“John Prodman, right? How did he even recognize us?” Ruby asks.

“That is a very good question.”

“And not one I’m concerned with.” Nora grabs Pyrrha’s arm. “C’mon, if we take any longer I really will eat my grenades. I’m hungry.”

“Please do not eat dust rounds, your own or anyone else’s,” Pyrrha says absently. “Is it… possible he recognized you from when everything began to heat up in Atlas?”

“Possible. I doubt it. I mean, that wasn’t all our fault! Now come on. Food, or ammo, or both.”

“Please,” Pyrrha reiterates, “do not eat the grenades.”

Queen Astra has only held this form for a day, and already she’s wishing she could turn back and never have to look like this again. She’s gone undercover before – dozens of times over the past sixty or so years – but usually she’s not quite so constrained in her choice of body. Usually she can at least get the most basic of traits right, even if she’s not up to her preferred standards of attractiveness. 

But no, this time there was only one person she could copy, and it happened to be a boy. In retrospect she probably could have gotten away with something better, as the new orange-eyed Maiden’s team seems to be very close friends with another here. And as much as Astra dislikes all things Schnee, she wouldn’t mind looking like Weiss for a little while. Especially if what she’s overheard is right, and the real one is dating both of those cute girls in red and black. 

Red and black are her and Ozma’s colors, after all. It would be so fitting. But sadly, it’s far too late to make a different choice now. She’ll just have to make the most of this, and complain loudly to her partner about it the entire time. 

I really hate this, you know that? Her thought crosses miles of sand and city to be heard in Ozma’s mind. I’ve been trying to speed things along here but it’s looking like tomorrow at best, more likely the next day.

You’ll be okay, Ozma reassures her. Just get them into the mines, split them up, and as soon as we have the Maiden you can be back to your normal look. 

Easier said than done. They’ve contacted the other Maiden too. You know none of us can beat one in a fair fight, not if she’s going all out. 

Sure, but since when do we fight fair?

Astra suppresses a laugh. While she might be able to play it off once as a random funny thought, if she makes a pattern of visibly responding to nothing, people might start to get suspicious. Okay, true, that is why I’m trying to split them over several mine entrances for easier ambushing. Is Kela ready to get her people in position?

Uh, no? There is a pause from the other end of the mental connection. We weren’t going to tell Kela, remember? Because of the collateral damage to her arena from baiting several of our major enemies in there at once?

I think we’re going to need her forces. These kids have a lot of friends, and they’re bringing everyone they’ve got. Astra thinks about this for a moment. You’ll have to tell her, not me. I’ve got Ren’s scroll and I’ve got Ren’s fingerprints to unlock it, but I don’t want to leave a written trail here in case someone sees. I mean, not that I’m really planning to give the scroll back once I’m done here, but still. 

Ozma sends her a short laugh. Of course not. I’ll make sure Kela gets the message to increase patrols. Might send Carmine in as well. And until all hell breaks loose at Rathuum… you’ll be okay. I believe in you, and in your acting skills.

Astra can’t help but roll her eyes at that. Acting is no issue. The problem is just being stuck like this. I’ve been avoiding mirrors, had to close my eyes when getting dressed this morning… 

Just another day. You can do it. As far as men go, that’s really one of the more palatable ones. And when you get back, I’ll be right there so we can match again. 

I’m not sure you really understand, Astra grumbles. You switched over to this body for a few minutes, but you didn’t really do anything with it. You didn’t let people see you in it. Do you have any idea how weird and wrong it is just to use the bathroom? Or to speak aloud, that’s the worst of it. Luckily, at least the real Ren isn’t too talkative so I can get away with avoiding that too. 

Astra switches focus back to the material world for a moment as her supposed teammates walk by, and she gives them a smile before returning to her partner’s telepathic connection. Actually, no, you want to know the worst part? Apparently – and she pauses for effect just a moment – this acting job includes having to respond to a declaration of love. From another boy!

Oh no. 

I know! I don’t think I was very in character with that, but it’s the best I could do. I panicked and kissed him and then somehow managed not to immediately run away and lock myself in the bathroom. 

The mental connection is filled with laughter once again. Oh my gods, I’m sorry. What a day to pick! Now I almost want to let the real one free just to see the looks on their faces when they realize. But don’t worry, my dear… you’ll have all the kisses you need when you get back. Proper ones, more than enough to make up for… that.

Astra closes her eyes and smiles at the thought. To be back with her beloved at the successful conclusion of this mission… To explore their newly acquired magic together as Summer and Fall, and discover every possible way to use it for pleasure as well as power… Now that’s the dream. That would make all of this discomfort worth it. 

I can’t wait, she sends. She just has to get through another day, and all the fighting that will come with it, and then everything will be perfect.

Chapter Text

From the outside, the caves leading to Rathuum don’t look like much. Ruby supposes that’s kind of the point, to hide the illegal fight club from scrutiny – although, this far outside the city, it’s not like the place sees much foot traffic anyway. 

“This is the place,” Velvet announces. “The main entrance, anyway. Every way into this mine will lead to the central cavern eventually.”

“Yep, that’s an abandoned mine, alright,” Jaune pronounces. “A little less snowy than the last one we visited. And hopefully less full of burrowing centipede-Grimm and one way too smart geist.”

He gets a few looks from the others at this. “Oh, right, that was just me, Ren, and Qrow. And Clover, before he was with us.”

“No Ace Ops this time,” Clover says. “Just a hell of a lot more kids.”

“Probably for the best,” Blake mutters, half to herself. “The Ace Ops did try to murder us.”

Ruby checks the time on her scroll, and raises her voice to get everyone’s attention. “It’s just about time,” she announces. “We should split up toward two ways in. Group A will be me, Blake, and JNPR. Group B will be you five – team Snoffee? – and the three adults. We’ll take this door, and group B, you head around to the next one.”

“You sure you don’t want to balance the numbers a little better?” Qrow asks her. 

“We’ll be meeting three more inside. That will be eight bodies each. Plenty to stay safe and push through to the center.”

Qrow nods. “Alright. You always know what you’re doing. Let’s head in.” He waves the rest of his group over, and looks to Velvet to point the way to the next mineshaft over. A quick glance at the map on her scroll, and he takes flight to scout ahead. 

Ruby steps up to the giant double doors to the mine, ancient and rusting and with one side permanently stuck open halfway, and she peers inside. “Looks like we get the easy way. Lights are still on.” 

She slips through the gap and waits for the rest of the team to follow. The lights are dim, but present: a line of lamps along both walls, shining every twenty feet without exception. Not the originals from three hundred years ago, clearly, rather a sign that they’re on the right track and can follow the path all the way to Rathuum. 

Ruby takes her scythe off her back and unfolds it. “Weiss, Yang, here we come.” With one last nod to the group, she starts down into the earth. 

“Just for the record, I still think matching white cloaks is a bad idea,” Jade mutters as her team too leaves the sunlight behind to walk where no miner has set foot in centuries. “Let me just add a sixth reason to the list: it gives the Crown easy targets that they can see a mile away.”

“Wait, six?” Xuri asks. “Did I miss one?”

Jade starts counting on her fingers as she lists them off. “Reason number one was that a cape is quite possibly the worst possible article of clothing for someone with wings.” She flutters her large beetle wings beneath the cloak for emphasis. “It doesn’t fit and it never will. And then it’s just unnecessary to cover up around here when aura can prevent sunburn just as well. And there’s the fact that me dressing modestly is a grave disservice to every woman-attracted person in Vacuo.”

Nora bursts out laughing at that last comment. She’s not much of a fan of the cloaks either, but for her at least it’s only an objection to the color. “Way to toot your own horn there, Jade.”

“Well, she’s not wrong…” Xuri shrugs, and pulls her hood up in a futile attempt to conceal a blush. 

“Reason number four,” Jade continues as if nothing had happened, “is that because this cloak is loose and hangs way back there over my wings, I can’t very well project my aura over it like normal clothes. So when my semblance goes off, the cloak will block the light from behind me. I don’t want that.”

“If you’re depending on taking a hit just to blind someone behind you, I think you’ve got bigger problems,” Nora comments. 

“We do have Julie waiting back home in case of injuries,” Xuri points out. “But yeah, let’s try not to get hurt, any of us.”

“Of course. Hurting is for the other guys.” Jade hefts her greatsword and gives it a spin. “Now, reason five, white just isn’t my color.”

“And it is mine?” Nora gestures to her all-black outfit beneath the cloak. 

“Look on the bright side,” Eve finally speaks up. She pushes her rose-tinted glasses higher on her nose. “Sure, the Crown may see us in white, but at least we’ll be able to easily see each other too. Since apparently nobody has ever bothered to fix up the lights on the side entrances.”

It’s been getting steadily dimmer as they go down and away from the cave entrance, and not far ahead is the first sharp bend in the tunnel where even that feeble sunlight will no longer pass. It’s not a problem for Nora Night, she’s used to working in near total blackness, but the others…

“Did someone say light?” Just as the team rounds the bend deeper into the old mine, the path ahead is illuminated with brilliant green. “Sorry to all of you behind me,” Jade says with a laugh, gently pressing a knife against her own skin to activate her light-producing semblance. “But at least I can see where I’m going. If only I didn’t have a cloak on, maybe you all could too.”

So far, everything is going exactly according to plan. The large group of the Crown’s enemies are split up into what seems like four separate parties, and the Fall Maiden is in one of the smaller ones. The Maiden who, apparently, is not at all what Astra had thought before getting this closer look. Two souls in one body is quite the interesting arrangement, and certainly something to look into more later. 

Of all the people here who could have had a crush on Ren, why couldn’t it have been the Maiden herself? Why the boy who happens to also be there? Still, despite her profound lack of attraction to Jaune, Astra will admit that it probably makes her job easier. All she has to do is put “Ren” in trouble and lure that body’s pilot away to her aid. 

Causing trouble won’t be hard at all. The moment she set foot inside the caves, she let Ozma know the group’s position and their route, and all that should have been relayed on to Kela de Thaym. Or whoever else is on duty here, while Kela likely stays in the center. 

And now, it seems that trouble may have finally arrived. According to her partner’s voice in her mind, Carmine should be here within the minute with a full squad of Grineer loyalists. Even better, Carmine knows exactly what Astra currently looks like. 

“Halt!” Oh, and there she is now, she and her followers filing out of one side of the four-way intersection ahead. “Rathuum is closed today. Please vacate the premises, or we will have to escort you out.” A little more polite than is necessary, given the inevitability of a fight, but Astra can’t fault her for keeping up appearances. 

Ruby steps forward to face her directly. “Rathuum has several of our friends captive. We are not leaving without them. Stand aside.”

Carmine herself does step to the side, but only to gesture at the line of twelve Grineer staying put just behind her. “You’re a little outnumbered here,” she says as if it’s not obvious, and her eyes drift to Astra as she speaks. “But if you insist… the hard way it is.”

Without further ado, she unsheathes the two sais from her belt – one silver and one gold – and lets them hover by her side. The squad with her take out their uniform-issue swords as one, and in moments the wide hallway is engulfed in combat. 

Rather one-sided combat, it seems. Apart from Carmine as a well trained agent, the rest have minimal experience in a fight and are holding their own through numbers alone. And apparently, none of them were told that one of their Queens was here in disguise. Worse, Astra is unarmed, in case the real Ren was called up to fight again. 

No matter. She still has the training advantage, and literal decades of experience. Astra ducks under a wide swing of one’s sword, then pushes upward again to drive her elbow into the man’s chin. He staggers back, and in that moment of inattention and pain, Astra snatches the blade out of his hand. As he still struggles to recover, she gives him a knee to the groin for good measure. 

She pivots as another comes toward her, and they cross swords with a loud clang of steel. Astra hops forward to press the hilt of her own blade around the side of her opponent’s, then tilts the blade down behind it and leans hard to lever much of her weight between the poor recruit and his weapon. The sword goes flying and clatters to the ground a solid ten feet away. 

“Wow, good one, Ren!” Jaune’s voice comes from somewhere behind her. “Where’d you learn to – oh gods what are you doing?”

The voice turns suddenly to horror as Astra continues her move in a fluid motion, hooking one leg behind her victim’s to tilt him off balance to the ground. She plunges down after him with her stolen blade extended before her, driving it into his upper chest with the full weight of her falling body behind its tip. 

Mustard yellow aura flickers and breaks, but manages to protect its user just this once. Astra stands and gives the man a swift kick to the head, and he doesn’t rise again. Merely unconscious this time rather than dead, only because today she’s fighting her own. 

“Holy shit. No mercy, huh? I mean, I guess they did kidnap you, so…”

Is she being too competent in this fight? Astra didn’t exactly have a lot of time to study the real Ren or his fighting style before copying his appearance. It certainly sounds like she should tone down the brutality a little, even if it sacrifices effectiveness in the process. Not that she’ll need this disguise too much longer now, but better safe than sorry. 

Except just then, before she can approach Carmine and whisper the details of her idea, her plans are forced to shift. Three new fighters appear from the other side hallway with a loud battle cry – all three people who Astra recognizes. The big man who’d fought her alongside two of the girls here, who’d been irritatingly immune to weaponized kuva. And the two students from Shade who so often are seen near him, who have participated in Rathuum on enough occasions to have detailed files on their abilities. 

And the girl in green – Emerald, she’s pretty sure – has a rather useful power. Her friend has no semblance on file, so it’s probably not anything combat-oriented. Neither of them look particularly thrilled to be here, but they don’t have to be. Not when Hazel makes up for both of them in sheer unstoppable force. 

Astra fights her way across the width of the hall to where Carmine is dancing around Nora’s hammer and controlling her sais with telekinesis to jab where her opponent is least protected. “I’ve got this one, Nora,” she calls, waving the girl off to fight someone else – and get her out of earshot of what comes next. 

“It’s me,” Astra hisses as she and Carmine trade careful blows, neither ever striking the other’s aura. “If they have allies, we won’t win this outright. Prepare to split and give a Kela-style retreat.”

“Doing things the fun way, alright. Anything else?”

“Yes. Let’s get you and I around the corner. Play along.” Together the pair drift toward the tunnel intersection, and once they reach the corner Astra twists to look back at the mayhem. “Jaune! Some help here?” Astra calls out loudly. If she can just get that body and its two occupants isolated… 

But whichever one is in control right now, they don’t seem to hear. And with Carmine’s soldiers dropping like flies now that their numerical advantage is suddenly weaker, there’s no time to reset the scene and try again. So, better some success than none. 

“Emerald!” she shouts next, adding a note of desperation to her cry. She launches herself bodily at Carmine and tackles her to the ground, and calls out again, “Over here! Your chain!”

A chain like that would be perfect for taking a prisoner. Astra knows she can detach the green guns from the ends, so it’s no disadvantage for Emerald to assist… and as she disengages from the Grineer nearest her, it seems she will. Emerald comes running and drops to her knees with chain out, as Astra still wrestles with Carmine and takes several jabs of a sai into her aura. 

And then, as Emerald is reaching out to help restrain the Grineer squadron’s leader, Astra suddenly lets up all the pressure and clamps a hand over Emerald’s mouth instead. Her semblance engages with the touch, out of sight from the melee around the corner, and by the time she and Carmine have wrapped Emerald in her own chain she looks like a perfect duplicate of the original. 

“This one’s pre-screened,” she tells Carmine. “Take her straight to Regor. And let the others pull back before they’re all killed.” To Emerald, struggling in her bindings with Carmine’s red scarf serving as a makeshift gag, she only winks and says, “It’s nothing personal. I’m sure Ren would have been on your side… but I’m afraid he was never here.” 

Carmine keeps one hand clenched around Emerald’s chain, and with the other retrieves a fist-sized lump of metal with a ring dangling from one end. She gives a nod to Astra, who grabs Emerald’s twin guns off the floor and then takes off at a sprint down this narrow, winding side path. 

Behind her Astra hears the word “Retreat!” yelled loud, and the frantic scrambling of Grineer recruits to keep some semblance of order as they flee. A few seconds pass and she glances back to see Carmine and three others split from the rest with the trussed-up Emerald carried between them. 

An explosion rocks the tunnels as Carmine’s grenade goes off. The shockwave hits her in the back with a thump, but Astra keeps running. She’s finally free of that dreadful body and the role that went with it, and for that she couldn’t be happier. 

They still have plenty of opportunity to nab the Maiden. For now, she has a different job to attend to. 

“We’re lost,” Ozbot says flatly. 

“Thanks for stating the obvious, Oz,” Qrow fires back. “I don’t see you helping.”

“How would I even—”

“Penny had a built-in GPS system,” Velvet says unhelpfully. “Don’t suppose you do too?”

The long-suffering sigh from Ozbot makes his answer abundantly clear. Yet he still says, “No, Miss Scarlatina, I do not. Even if I did, for a global positioning system to work, the global CCT would have to be up.”

“And it wouldn’t work underground,” Fox adds. “My ADA does, but… not very far. I can tell that there’s a crossroads coming up, for instance—”

“Yep,” Clover calls back from the lead of the really rather large group.

“—but not where each branch goes. And clearly Clover’s semblance isn’t helping that much.”

“Hey! I said I had a good feeling about this! That doesn’t always mean I’m right! Or good at navigation. Why are you letting me do this?”

Sun shrugs, then pats Neptune on the shoulder and falls back to walk next to Velvet. “Hey, how did you know Penny had a GPS system?”

Velvet snickers. “I didn’t. But I don’t think Ozbot did either.”

“A grenade? A fucking grenade?” Pyrrha’s exasperated shout echoes slightly in the tunnel. “For gods’ sakes, we’re underground! They could have caused a cave-in!”

“That may have been the goal,” Blake points out quietly. “It would keep us from getting farther in.”

As it is, the tunnel still stands. This main track is wide, once used for carting out many-ton containers of raw dust, and thus is one of the most highly reinforced parts of the mine. In theory, it should even be able to withstand the detonation of some of its precious cargo without excessive damage. 

Compared to a dust cart explosion, a grenade is pathetic. A few rocks fell, the floor has a crater a couple feet across, but there is no real damage done. The same cannot be said for anyone’s auras: nobody is yet unprotected, but all find their shields a good deal weaker than they’d like. 

“And they killed their own man!” Nora exclaims, nudging an unmoving but thankfully still whole body with one foot. “That guy Ren knocked out, he couldn’t run.” She looks around momentarily, and freezes. “Wait… where’s Ren now?”

Ruby and Blake are still here. Jaune and Pyrrha are here. Hazel and Mercury are here, staying calm and far less hostile than they’d been when Nora last saw them at Haven. But Ren is missing. 

Nora jogs out to the middle of the intersection and peers down each tunnel in turn, but there’s nothing there but rocks and the same dim lanterns along each wall. When she returns to the group, it’s with genuine panic in her eyes. “Did anyone see? What happened to Ren?”

Mercury makes a show of inspecting the floor and wall. “Well, I don’t see any exploded splatter around,” he comments dryly. 

Pyrrha closes her eyes for a moment to transfer control of the body. “Not helping,” Jaune says through gritted teeth. “Say, where’s Emerald? Wasn’t she with you?”

Now it’s Hazel’s turn to search the still empty tunnels. “She was,” he reports. “But it seems we’re both missing a member.”

“Ruby,” Jaune says evenly, “I know you’ve been fine so far, but I have to ask: are you sure about working with them?”

“It’s not you I have a problem with,” Hazel answers for her. “Only Ozpin, and I don’t see him here either.” He walks past Jaune to approach Nora instead, and holds out a hand. “Truce?” he proposes. “And if not, at least I’ve learned my lesson about using lightning.”

Nora takes a glance at Ruby and hesitates for just a moment, then takes Hazel’s hand. “Truce,” she agrees. Across the wide hallway, Mercury rolls his eyes. 

“Good,” Ruby pronounces. “Thank you both for your help. We know it’s not your fault we’ve lost Ren again. Wherever he and Emerald are, they’re probably together. We know everyone was kept in one place before Ren escaped. They’ll probably take both of them back there.”

“And as soon as they do, they’ll try to get all our captives out to somewhere else,” Blake adds. “The Grineer know we’re here now. We should continue on just how we’d planned, but we should hurry.”

“Agreed,” Jaune says. “Straight ahead this way, right? Either of you been there before?” 

Mercury gives him a hateful look, but agrees. “Yeah, it’s that way. Not too much farther.”

“Then let’s go.” Jaune is the first to set off, only to pause ten feet ahead and look back at everyone else not yet following. “Hazel, Mercury, you with us?”

“And does our truce mean you can teach me how to do the dust in your arms thing better?” Nora cuts in with a mad grin. “It worked great in Atlas, but the week afterward really sucked.”

“Mercury and I will take a separate route,” Hazel announces. “The Crown’s forces split up as they ran. We should pursue both groups.”

Ruby nods. “Sounds good, and thanks again. Whichever one of us finds Ren, Emerald, and the rest, we can get them all out safe.” Her friends assemble around her, and as one they turn to continue on. 

“It’s quiet…” Yang’s remark is heard perfectly clearly in the cell she and her friends share. A welcome change from the usual din that threatens to drown out even the simplest conversation here. 

“Not quiet enough,” Weiss complains, rolling her eyes. “I can still hear Kela up there on her loudspeaker.”

“Yeah, but… I don’t hear an audience.”

Coco wanders over from where she’d been sitting with Scarlet and Sage across the room. “She’s got a point. It’s quieter than usual up there. Where is everyone?”

From his bed where he sits cross-legged on top of the covers with eyes closed, Ren frowns. He can meditate through a lot of things, but five people who won’t shut up even for a half hour can strain even his patience a little. 

At the telltale sound of the iron door being handled from the outside, he finally gives up and opens his eyes. The rest pay attention as well and most find their weapons, on guard in case it’s their time to be hauled up above for another round in the arena. 

But the person at the door is quite possibly the last person any of them would have expected, and not just because three out of six never met her. It’s Emerald.

“Uh, hi,” Emerald says, pocketing the key she’d just used and slipping inside. She’s wearing the Executioner uniform just like most of the people they’ve all fought over the past few weeks, and she has a stack of the same under one arm. She closes the door behind her and then turns back to face the group again, not moving from that spot. 

“Emerald?” Yang is the first to speak up. “What are you doing here?”

“Let me just say, first…” Emerald takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry. For… everything. I’m here to help.”

Yang exchanges a pointed look with Weiss, and her gauntlets fold back into their compact form. 

“Listen. We don’t have much time, so I’m just going to get straight to it. Your rescue is here, but they’ve been discovered. They’re going to have a hard time getting through all of that.” Emerald points up at the ceiling, and the arena beyond. “Mercury doesn’t know I’m here. Honestly, fuck that guy, I’ve hated him for ages.”

“Yeah, so have I,” Yang says. 

“Anyway,” Emerald continues, “the Crown’s going to want to keep you away from your friends. I can get you out now to meet up on the outside.” She takes out the plain green-brown uniforms and gives them a pensive look. “Some of you, anyway. I’ve got three of these.”

Scarlet and Sage come up to the front of the cell to stand with the others. “Haven’t we fought you and your friend?” Scarlet asks. “You’re not even prisoners here like us. Why help us escape?”

Emerald’s eyes narrow slightly. “You’ve been at Shade ever since the Fall of Beacon,” she says. “But your friends here…” She waves a hand toward Yang, Weiss, and Ren, and now addresses them in particular. “You know. Everything I’ve been involved in, everything I’ve done… I want out. But I don’t know how to do that, except…”

“To come to your former enemies,” Ren supplies, and Emerald nods an agreement. Beside him, Weiss taps out a few words on her scroll and shows it to Ren, then hands it over the other way to Yang. “It means a lot that you’d do this for us,” Ren continues. “We’ll take the help, no matter who it comes from.”

“Are you sure?” Yang asks him. “Weiss raises a good point.”

“I know you have no reason to trust me,” Emerald says, and nervously glances up at the ceiling as the muffled loudspeaker blares again. “But please. Let me do one good thing in my life?”

She tosses an Executioner uniform to the nearest prisoner: Coco. “Put these on,” Emerald directs. She steps over to her actual enemies now, and hands the other two uniforms she brought to Weiss and Ren. “You’ll need them to get out of here.”

“Why?” Coco asks, though she’s already slipping the vest over her clothes. “We’re all armed, and you just unlocked our cell. Isn’t that all we need?”

“A single person sees you out of here and they’ll sound the alarm. But they don’t have to see you. Wear the uniforms and all I have to plaster an illusion over is your faces – and believe me, that’s a lot easier than hiding entire people. Now, I’ve got to make two trips so we need to move quickly. Are you coming or not?”

“Just one thing first.” Yang puts an arm around Weiss’s shoulders. “You said our rescue was on its way. Our teams have finally found us? Why shouldn’t all of us, you too, just wait to meet up with them?”

It’s Weiss who answers her. “Yang, I love you, but I think you might have forgotten something.”

“What?”

“The Grineer right over our heads, who are likely to panic and start destroying evidence when they get wind of an invasion here? This is the last place we want to be. We’re evidence, remember?”

“So are you sure you can’t take us all at once?” Scarlet speaks up. “Whatever bad history those three have with you, we don’t even have that. I’ll go with you right now, if I can.”

Emerald gives him a glare. “Yes, I’m sure, and every moment we stand around here is a moment nobody is getting to safety. I don’t think you understand just how much I’m risking by coming to you like this. Don’t make it all for nothing.”

Weiss and Ren exchange another look, and then Weiss turns to give Yang a long kiss. “We’ll be careful,” she promises. “We’ll get just far enough away to not be found, and then Emerald can come back for you. And we’ll see Ruby and Blake and the rest soon.”

Yang pulls her girlfriend into a tight embrace. “Alright,” she whispers. “But don’t let down your guard for an instant. Just in case… in case Ren’s friend is playing tricks.”

Naturally, the three who didn’t go with Emerald (or ‘Emerald,’ as Yang strongly suspects) have to wait barely five minutes before the cell door is slammed open once again. Her gauntlets are at the ready immediately, except…

Well, it’s not Kela or any of her arena handlers, but it’s not Emerald either. It’s the extremely hot lady in gold who showed up alongside Hazel the night she and Weiss were kidnapped. From the three-way confusion at their first meeting, Yang is about… eighty percent sure this is someone with the Summer Maiden. 

“Professor Goldwing?” Scarlet asks.

“No, obviously I’m the Kela de Thaym,” says the quite obviously Professor Goldwing, eponymous wings sticking out from under her cloak. “Call me Jade, we’re not in class. Though if you call me Jade in class it’ll be the last thing you do in my class. Miss Mysterious over here is Nora.”

Nora the Second, looking just as uncomfortable as Jade in her matching white cloak, waves. “Hi.”

“Wait, wait, you’re that Nora?” Yang asks. She doesn’t fold up her gauntlets, but she does let her hands fall to her sides. “From the radio? I was expecting you to be a bit more…”

“Cryptic,” guesses the woman wearing dark sunglasses inside. “I get that a lot.”

“You don’t go outside a lot,” Jade counters. 

“Well, no. It takes time to come up with riddles, you know.” Nora adjusts her sunglasses. “You lot ready to move?”

“Yes,” Scarlet says quite emphatically.

“Where’s the other three?”

“Went with someone else,” Yang says. “Probably a trap, but they know that. You think we can…”

“Let’s get you out first,” Jade decides. “We’ve got a couple of others not too far from here. Doubt you’ve met Xuri, but I know someone in your group met Eve. They’re all ready to cause… well, you’ll see, it’ll be great and most importantly very distracting. I’ll tell them to keep an eye out for the rest of your friends first.”

And instead of pulling out a scroll like a normal person, Jade pulls out a knife. She angles it towards one of her many areas of exposed skin, despite the cloak covering up a lot.

“Whoa there. We’ve got perfectly functional scrolls.” Nora gives Jade a look. “Save the aura.”

“Aw,” says Jade. “Fine.”

Some distance upward in the caves, two more white-cloaked women wait. One is fiddling away with some impressive looking electronics. After all, she has it on good authority that this is where she can hook into the loudspeaker system, and if she can get into Kela’s loudspeakers… well, there’s no if about it. It’s a when, and it will be great.

The shorter and elder of the two women eyes her scroll warily. Silently, she reads off a text from Nora, then glances up and says, “They’ve got three of them. Other three are probably with the Grineer still, went willingly with someone, though they’ve at least got their weapons and know it’s a trap.”

“Huh.” Xuri squints at the mainframe, taps the metal experimentally. “Time to make Kela cry?”

Eve snorts. “I doubt it, but we’ll definitely be making her angry. Go for it.”

That’s all the go-ahead Xuri needs. She flips a couple switches, pulls a handily placed microphone from its mount on the wall, and taps it. “Is this thing on?”

Oh, it’s definitely on, Eve can hear Xuri’s voice echoing in the hallway outside. And, within seconds, there comes a reply. “Who is this? Who dares to use the channel reserved solely for the Kela de Thaym?”

“Uh, me? That’s a good start.”

“And who are you? Where are you?”

“Oh, you know.” Xuri’s tail flicks behind her. “Around. Say, why do they call you the Kela de Thaym, anyway? I’m sure there are others. I bet they’re all better than you.”

For a few moments, there’s nothing but shocked silence. And then, “They are not!”

“No, no, I bet they are. Mainly because that’s my name too. I’m the Kela de Thaym now. Actually, no, I shouldn’t say that like it just changed , I’m pretty sure I had the name well before you had anything. Least of all this dinky little arena.”

Loading a lightning dust cartridge into her weapon, Eve stifles a snicker.

“Dinky? Little? This is my arena! My Rathuum! My name!”

“Nah, it’s my name,” Xuri says with a complete and completely unnecessary straight face. “And really, this arena is pathetic. You ever been to a Vytal Festival, Lesser Kela?”

“Of course I have,” Kela says stiffly.

“Now that’s an arena. Changing biomes, actual safety precautions, participants who aren’t literally slaves… oh, right, sorry, you call them executioners, don’t you? How many of them have been executed lately? If you’re smart, you wouldn’t keep records of that part. But Kela, oh, Kela… I’m you but stronger and smarter. Not that being either of those things is hard.”

“I am going to find you. And you will taste the wrath of Rathuum.”

“Now that just sounds silly. Just say the wrath of Uum so you don’t repeat yourself. Though are you really sure you want to do that? You’re weak, you’re dumb, I could wipe the floor with you if I actually bothered to waste the ten seconds it would take to bring you down. Is there anything you’re good at? Maybe… nah, somehow I doubt you’re any good in the bedroom either.”

“Cressa fucking Tal you horrible bitch, come out and fight me like you mean it!”

At that, Xuri actually pauses. She looks at Eve, who shrugs. She doesn’t know who that is either.

“Who’s Cressa?” Xuri asks quite genuinely.

“Don’t play dumb with me! You know I am the —”

“No, you’re not the only one, remember? Just because you didn’t know who I was—”

“Your name is not Kela de Thaym, I’m Kela de Thaym! I’m the Kela de Thaym!”

“More like the Kela de Lame. You’re pathetic!”

“You’re pathetic!”

“No, no, there’s definitely one woman who’s making an utter fool of herself here and it isn’t me. I’ve got to say, though, this is surprisingly therapeutic. Do keep going.”

“Fuck. You.”

“Nah, that’s Cressa’s job! Oh, wait, she left you. At least, I’m assuming she left. If she didn’t, I have some serious questions for both of you that I doubt are getting answered anytime soon.”

“Executioners,” Kela grinds out, “find this intruder. And k —”

Her next word would have undoubtedly been kill, followed very shortly by her. But it is while Kela is saying these things that Xuri hangs up the microphone, takes several big steps back, and nods to Eve.

Kela is then, summarily, cut off by Eve’s rifle firing and the resulting concentrated electricity dust coursing through the network.

“Well,” Xuri says breathlessly. “How was that?”

“That,” Eve tells her, “was without a doubt the second funniest thing I have ever seen. I doubt Kela agrees with me, so let’s move.”

“Well, I am Kela, remember? And I do —” Xuri breaks down into giggles. “Gods, that was so much fun. ”

By the time a few furious Executioners find where they were, both the Maiden and her protector are long gone.

Supposedly, they’re escaping. Weiss, Ren, and Coco, on their way out of Rathuum and the caves at a brisk power-walk, while Yang, Scarlet, and Sage wait their turn in the prison cell the six of them shared. Weiss would really like to hope that Emerald has changed, that she’s really decided to defect and atone for past deeds. 

But she can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right about this. Emerald hadn’t been particularly enthusiastic about fighting her and Yang, but she hadn’t shown signs of being sympathetic either. And when they know people may not be who they appear…

It seems Coco is having the same thoughts, as she passes her scroll over for Weiss to read a message. Am I being paranoid, or did she pick exactly the three of us with the strongest semblances?

Well, shit. That’s an important point Weiss hadn’t thought of yet, and another weight on the scale toward this not being the same Emerald they know and hate. Coco’s told them all about the Crown’s trafficking in people with useful semblances, and how her team fought back and put at least one member of the group in prison. 

“Hey, Emerald,” she says, already passing the scroll onward for Ren to read as well. “Do you mind answering one question for me?”

“Uh, sure?”

“When we were at Haven Academy, you blasted an image into all our minds. The same thing to everyone, all at once, and then you passed out. What was that image?”

Emerald stops short in the tunnel and turns around. “I’m sorry? Do you… do you realize how long ago that was? How much has happened? Why are you so interested in something like that, anyway?”

“Do you at least remember why you did that?” Weiss asks. “What got you so upset in that moment?”

“No? Please, I want to put that period of my life behind me. Can we not drag it up again?”

All hands go to their weapons as Ren lets out a sigh. “I think Emerald would have remembered the moment when the woman she loved was presumed dead,” he says. “But you’re not her, are you?”

‘Emerald’ freezes and stammers out a few words of protest, then stares off into the distance as if listening to a voice only she can hear. 

“Did you really think I wouldn’t remember you?” Ren asks. “I saw you turn into a perfect copy of me. Since then, any time one of us is alone, we make sure they’re really them when they come back.”

“I don’t know what you’ve done with the real Emerald,” Weiss adds, “but you just failed your test. Thanks for getting us away from Kela, but we’ll handle our own escape from here.”

The impostor’s lips form a few silent words, and then she spins on her heel and bolts down the tunnel and away. 

“Well,” Coco remarks. “Guess she didn’t like her chances with a three on one.”

“No use going after her,” Ren says. “She’d just get us lost in all these tunnels. Coco, do you know the way out from here?”

Coco shrugs. “Maybe!”

Weiss shakes her head. “Our friends will be looking for us at the arena. And I won’t leave Yang there.”

There doesn’t seem to be any objection to turning back. “And if that shapeshifter was lying about our rescue being here, as she very well may have been,” Coco points out, “we’re still free and that gives us a chance to break the others out on our own. Let’s go get our friends.”

Between Ren’s memory of the twists and turns they’d taken on the way out, and Coco’s vague knowledge of at least some of the caves here, the group feels confident they’re on the right track. They’ll get back to the main cavern, Ren can hide them from the captured Grimm to avoid any howls giving them away, and with luck… they can grab the other three and escape for real. 

But as voices echo down the tunnels, they freeze. Ren creeps silently up to the intersection ahead with Weiss’s scroll in hand, and he uses the camera to get an unobtrusive look around the corner. 

And then, he slides the scroll shut, waves Weiss and Coco forward, and steps out into the intersection in full view of the other paths. “Hey,” he says with a wave. “Good to see you guys again.”

It’s their teammates. Ruby and Blake, Nora and the body that can only be called Arkos until its current operator is revealed. But only them: no Velvet, Fox, or Yatsu, and no one else from their group. 

“Ren! There you are!” The person who’s probably Jaune runs forward and nearly tackles him into a hug. 

Ruby zooms with her semblance to do the same to Weiss, with Blake catching up behind her to join in a group hug moment later. Nora, not to be left out, hugs Coco. 

“I’m so happy you’re okay! Are the others with you? How did you get away?”

“First things first,” Ren says, stepping back from the reunion a little. “You need to know, there’s a shapeshifter on the loose. Ruby, I just saw your semblance, you’re good. Jaune, Pyrrha, could you switch for us?”

Pink light flashes from their eyes as Pyrrha takes control. “Hello again!” she says, and in a flash of pale yellow she’s gone again. 

“Alright, you’re you. Nora, what was your crazy idea when fighting the Profit-Taker Orb?”

“I stabbed myself with raw lightning dust crystals,” Nora replies cheerfully. 

“Good.” Ren nods, and finally relaxes a little. “The shapeshifter pretended to be our rescue and led half of us away. Yang, Scarlet, and Sage are still there. Where’s the rest of our friends?”

“We split up to take multiple routes in,” Ruby says. 

“Wait…” Nora holds up a hand. “What do you mean, you just left the others? You were with us until that big fight, and then we couldn’t find you afterward.”

“Oh no.” Ren slowly drops his face to one hand. “That wasn’t me. Whatever you saw, it wasn’t me. I haven’t gotten out of Rathuum since they captured us all.”

“But then, you’re saying…”

“You met the shapeshifter,” Weiss says. “They took the form of Ren a couple days ago. We all expected they’d try to infiltrate, and… I guess they did.”

Ruby’s face lights up with a dawning realization. “And that’s how that patrol found us so quickly! They were tipped off before we even got here! Oh no, I hope the other groups aren’t having too much trouble.”

“If anyone goes off alone, even just for a second,” Coco warns, “test them when they get back.”

“Hold on. Ren…” Jaune seems to be having trouble processing the news. “Everything with you escaping and returning home and helping us plan… that whole time, even when we weren’t planning this mission… that wasn’t you?” He wobbles on his feet a little, like the shock is simply too much to carry. “Then, I…” 

He finally sinks to his knees as the full weight of the revelation comes crashing down on him. “Oh gods… that wasn’t Ren.”

Chapter Text

Well, so much for slipping in with a Jaune-amplified Ren to hide them and freeing Yang, Scarlet, and Sage quietly. 

On the plus side, at least Teams RWB-C and JNPR have reached the central cavern of the mine. It’s big – even bigger than the one Jaune and Ren fought a geist in, they say – and roughly spherical apart from the flat floor, with eight foot wide paths spiraling upward around the walls to meet the many tunnels leading away. They’ve entered from one of the upper tunnels with a good view of the cavern and the arena in its center, and it seems their group wasn’t the first. 

The arena, as well as one of the lowest-level paths on the far wall, are covered by a crowd of people fighting, shouting, running after the few figures here not dressed in a Grineer uniform. There are several people in white cloaks, easily distinguishable through the melee, and– 

“Is that Yang?” Blake pushes up to the front of the group and points across the chamber at a fluff of yellow hair. She’s with two of the white cloaks, and as the team watches, she stuns an oncoming executioner with a punch and then heaves him bodily off the side of the path. It’s barely a ten foot drop to the floor from where they are, but it still removes one from the group attacking Yang and her companions. 

“Scarlet and Sage are with her,” Coco confirms. “I don’t know the people fighting with them. Unless, maybe, is that…”

Coco flinches at a bright flash of green from across the way. “Okay, that’s one I know. Professor Goldwing’s here.”

“That must be the Summer Maiden’s team who broke them out,” Ruby says with a grin. “Let’s go give them a hand.”

“Wait.” Weiss directs the team’s attention to a side where no fighting is yet going on. “Look. You see her?”

There’s a single woman over there, tall, dressed in the same brown-green as the rest, with a rather alarming number of weapons and ammo cases slung across her back. She looks up at the side wall and lines herself up beneath a tunnel most of the way up, then grabs ahold of the cliff face and starts pulling herself up. 

“Wow,” Blake remarks as the woman makes progress. “She puts my rock climbing in Argus to shame.”

“That’s Kela de Thaym,” Weiss tells her. “She runs this place. And she is not getting away so easily.”

“Then let’s get her.” Jaune traces one finger along the paths that ring the cavern. “Next one down from us will intercept her. Let’s go.” Without waiting for anyone else, he clambers down over the edge – steep, but not quite vertical – and carefully descends. Moments later, Ruby follows in a swirl of rose petals to land gracefully on her feet before Jaune even progresses halfway. 

“Don’t worry, guys. I got this.” Weiss swishes her sword and a series of white glyphs appear, forming a convenient staircase. She trots down and the rest of the group follows, and once at the next ledge down Weiss gives Jaune a thumbs-up as he finally gives up and drops the rest of the way. “Great job, Jaune. Way to be the first one down.”

All eyes turn as twin streaks of white rise up from the cavern floor: two more cloaked women, holding hands, with a thin shell of green flame surrounding them both in a sphere. They glide over the heads of those below and the sphere of magic sparks, throwing off bolts of emerald lightning in all directions to slow the encroaching crowd of Executioners.

Loud shots ring out through the cavern from someone’s sniper rifle. One of the Grineer, clearly, as the Maiden and her companion no longer drift in a placid circle above their enemies, instead teleporting erratically between a handful of their former positions. That’s right, Qrow had mentioned her doing something similar to avoid him and Clover back when they’d first arrived. 

“No time to stare,” Weiss declares, and drags the group onward. Far ahead on their narrow path, Kela de Thaym pulls herself up onto the ledge – and stops. “Wait, what’s she doing?”

Getting out a rocket launcher, apparently. She loads her first volley and sends six missiles screaming across the cavern toward Yang and Jade’s group. Their accuracy leaves much to be desired, but with a payload like that it’s hardly even necessary. When the dust clears, everyone is still standing – but they won’t be able to take very many of those before somebody’s aura goes down. 

It seems all Kela wanted after all was some high ground to shoot from, though being closer to an exit still helps her in any case. “Come on,” Ruby says as Kela reloads for another round. “This is how we can be useful. Let’s take her down.”

On one hand, Qrow, Clover, and Ozbot are pretty sure they’re not lost anymore. The non-kidnapped members of Team CFVY haven’t been a lot of help once they all got into the cave system, and Sun and Neptune have just been tagging along with no idea, but from what little CCT service they got before it cut off completely deeper underground, the map probably showed the center was this way. 

On the other hand, it’s suddenly looking like they may not reach the center after all, or at least not in one piece. Maybe it comes with having the good luck charm and bad luck charm side by side. 

Ahead of them in the tunnel, coming directly the other way, are two men Oz hasn’t seen since the battle at Haven, and who he’d hoped he might not run into again for a few years yet. Hazel and Mercury – the latter not much of a threat despite his trash-talk, but the giant by his side easily capable of stopping the group’s progression. 

“Weapons sheathed,” Ozbot mutters, just loud enough for Qrow and Clover to hear. “He shouldn’t know this face.”

Qrow puts a hand to the hilt of his sword anyway, but doesn’t pull it off his back. Clover does similarly, while Ozbot himself hangs back to blend in with the five students behind. 

Hazel comes to a stop a short ways in front of them, Mercury still at his heel. “Qrow Branwen,” he says neutrally, eyes scanning over Clover’s green outfit for any sign of a cane. “Do you serve the Crown now, or are we here on the same mission?”

Qrow hesitates just a moment too long. Behind him, Fox steps out to the side to give his ADA a better sonar-view, then waves the rest of his team forward. “Professor Rainart? I didn’t know you were helping out too!”

“Professor?!” Ozbot splutters from the back of the group. 

After a quick glance back at Fox, Velvet, and Yatsu, Qrow takes his hand off his sword and shrugs. “I suppose my niece asked you here? Let’s not get in each others’ way, shall we?”

He steps to the side and many of the students follow him, leaving Sun now with a clear view and a puzzled expression. Velvet taps him on the arm. “He teaches advanced Grimm Studies,” she says. “I told you your team should have taken it this semester.”

“No, that’s not it…” Sun continues to stare, and raises his voice to call to Hazel directly. “Weren’t you at the battle at Haven? Weren’t you… on the other side of the battle at Haven?”

“Let’s move along, Sun,” Qrow says, and leads the group forward a few steps with a wave. 

Sun continues to side-eye Hazel and Mercury as they start to pass by. “Look, I was outside the whole time, but… Hey, Professor Ozpin, you were there too, right? Isn’t this that guy?”

Ozbot facepalms hard enough to send an audible metallic thud through the tunnel. “Gods damn it, Sun, you just had to tell him I’m here!” He brings out the cane he’d been holding behind his back, and extends it to its full length. 

Hazel freezes. “Ozpin?” His gaze comes to rest on the young-looking body with white hair and dark green stripes down each leg, and everyone watches as in an instant his face clouds over with fury. “Another new body? You got that poor boy killed already?”

Ozbot splutters once more, this time considerably more indignantly. No one else speaks up in his defense, leaving him to say, “I did not —”

He is, of course, then cut off by being decked in the face so hard that if he was any lighter, he would go flying into the cavern wall. Unfortunately, being made of metal has its perks. With a flash of green aura, Ozbot stands his ground—mostly. He still skids back a few feet.

“This might,” Ozbot eyes Hazel warily, “be a while. Someone needs to accomplish what we came here for, and I certainly don’t trust her agents to do it. Qrow, Clover, go.”

Qrow glances back at Ozbot, then at Hazel, then evidently decides his concern for his nieces outweighs any obligation to Ozbot, current or former. Clover, meanwhile, looks rather disinclined to listen to Ozbot at all—but he turns and follows Qrow anyway.

Hazel lets them go. He looks to the part of Team CFVY on one side, the half of Team SSSN on the other. “My fight is not with any of you.” And, with that, he charges again, this time not stopping to let Ozbot get his bearings.

Fox, Velvet, and Yatsuhashi watch wordlessly—or, in Fox’s case, listen intently to what his ADA is telling him. Sun and Neptune on the other hand…

“Are we just gonna… watch him beat up Professor Ozpin?” Sun asks, currently doing that exact thing.

“We probably shouldn’t.” Velvet sounds slightly disappointed. “But if I’ve learned anything from taking Professor Rainart’s class, it’s that he doesn’t do things without reason.”

“Please keep watching,” Mercury mutters. “I would hate to have to step in.”

Yatsu glares at him. A hand goes to his sword. “If it’s fighting you…”

“Boys, boys, you’re both pretty,” Neptune says, “can we not?”

The sword goes away, but the glare doesn’t. That’s probably good enough for now, so Velvet returns her attention to the fight—where Ozbot’s cane has just been knocked out of his grip, sent flying down the tunnel in the opposite direction. He ducks under another punch and runs for it, seemingly without having noticed that the rest of the kids didn’t follow Clover and Qrow.

“Hello, um… Professor Rainart?” Velvet calls, cupping her hands around her mouth.

“That way’s a dead end,” Hazel mutters to himself, and stops. “Yes? Make it quick.”

“Is there a… reason you… how do I put this…”

“Want Ozpin dead?” Sun adds helpfully, if bluntly.

“Not how I wanted to put it, but yes, that.”

“That man killed my sister,” Hazel growls. He cracks his knuckles as Ozbot, now having retrieved his cane, comes back into view. 

“I did not,” Ozbot protests. “She was killed by Grimm!”

“During her initiation at Beacon Academy! You had a duty to intervene! So tell me, Ozpin, what do you have to say for yourse—”

A bolt of bright green cracks from the end of his cane, hitting Hazel directly in the face. It does little more than startle him, though, and further bolts of what can only be magic don’t even have that effect.

“She knew the risks! She signed the paperwork, she knew what she was getting herself into!”

The audible growl that comes out of Hazel’s mouth proves exactly what he thinks of Ozbot’s paperwork. “She was seventeen!”

“Yes, and?”

“I’m not betting on this,” Fox says quietly, “but if I was, I think I’d bet on Professor Rainart.”

“Same,” Velvet says. “And same.”

Velvet thought they were being quiet enough that no one without enhanced hearing could hear them. But as Hazel grabs what looks like lightning dust crystals out of his bags—and Velvet doesn’t think she’s imagining the distinctly uneasy look on Ozbot’s face at those, does Hazel even know that he’s currently… well, Oz bot? —the former headmaster’s expression contorts into what can only be a sneer.

“I don’t have time for this, not today,” Ozbot announces to no one in particular. He reaches up into the air, hands glowing green—and he pulls at something invisible. Invisible, yet certainly not intangible. The caves around them begin to rumble. Rocks fall, small at first, then much bigger. Fox looks up in alarm, his ADA telling him something that merely seeing does not.

“Get to the wall,” Fox says sharply. “Now.”

Nearly everyone in the room does. Velvet is about to follow suit—but she catches a glimpse of bright green. Not magic, but what looks like… rocket boosters? Who let Ozbot have rocket boosters in his heels?

Hazel sprints after him. It occurs to Velvet then that they’re both heading in the direction Qrow and Clover had gone, the direction that is probably Rathuum, and Coco.

Before she can think better of it, the ceiling falls, and Velvet dives.  

When the dust settles, it’s clear she made it to the side she wanted—barely. She’s pretty sure her leg is stuck. Not a problem, so long as she still has aura, but annoying. And it’s impossible to move without help. It will be a fairly big problem if she runs out of aura, but for now, it’s fine. The fight will end and someone will help her out before then… right? 

As Velvet watches, her current professor faces off against a former one. Hazel hasn’t let go of the lightning dust crystals, but he hasn’t done anything with them either. 

Does she even want to know what he’s going to do with them? Either way, she is probably about to find out. Maybe she’ll even get a picture for future use herself!

Ozbot, meanwhile, is between her and Hazel.

“Um,” Velvet says, waving even though Ozbot’s back is to her. “Professor. A little help, please?”

With a flash of emerald light, Ozbot disappears. He… had to have heard her. Hadn’t he?

Professor Rainart’s fist whiffs through nothing but air. “That coward,” he mutters. He puts away his lightning crystals and walks over. “I take it you don’t plan on fighting me on his behalf.”

“Of course not.”

Hazel stands over her and heaves a great mass of rock upward, just enough that she can wriggle out. A quick glance at her scroll from there proves her aura did not like that, but she’s still got some, and it’s not like her semblance uses very much. She’ll be fine. Probably.

“Would… you not have helped me if I did?” Velvet asks in a small voice.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t have,” Hazel mutters. “In fact, I’m not sure he’d have helped you either way. It’s been established that…”

“…yeah,” Velvet agrees. “I’m sorry, Professor. About your sister.”

“You have no reason to be sorry. He does, and yet he never will be, no matter how many times I try to beat it into him.” Hazel glares down the tunnel. “If his teleportation is anything like…”

“A Maiden’s?”

His eyebrows raise. “I shouldn’t be surprised he’s told you about that. Or more likely, your friends told you over Ozpin’s objections. I’ve known two people with magic, and one of them can use it to teleport. If Ozpin’s version is anything like hers—and I would expect it is—he can’t have gone very far. You are welcome to continue on your own, if you wish. That being said, as a professor, I would feel much better about my student’s safety if you stayed with me.”

Velvet eyes the newly collapsed wall beside them, with her teammates, Sun and Neptune, and Mercury all on the other side. “No complaints here.”

“Hello, Kela,” greets the shapeshifter cheerily, after dropping one hand onto her shoulder and transforming.

“My Queen,” Kela responds, significantly less cheerfully. In fact, Astra would even go so far as to say if she wasn’t wearing Kela’s face right now—marking her as herself, to those lucky few useful enough to know—she would have been met with a rocket to the face. “My new Executioners are—”

“Escaping, yes,” Astra agrees. “At this point, it might be better to let them go.”

Kela de Thaym, prideful as she is, is also smart enough to know that when one of her Queens suggests something, it’s not a suggestion. It’s an order.

And still, Kela protests, because while she’s smart enough to know, she’s also stubborn enough not to quit. Astra likes that about her.

“After they’ve caused this much damage? This is my arena, my home!”

“And clearly, capturing any of them was a mistake on our part,” Astra replies, though they both know she means your part. “Rest assured, they will face retribution for the damage they have caused. We’ll get you new Executioners. It isn’t as if we have any shortage of unskilled fighters.”

Kela takes a deep breath, and lets it out. “Very well. What would you have me do?”

Astra considers telling her of their plans for later. She decides against it, because as satisfying as it undoubtedly will be for herself and Ozma, Kela would likely prefer the Law of Rathuum. Whatever that is. She still isn’t sure exactly, and she generally has higher priorities than to ask.

Instead, she smiles in a striking reflection of Kela herself. “You brought the second launcher, didn’t you? We might have plans for some of them after this, but that doesn’t mean they all have to survive today. Particularly not the ones who have defied you personally.”

Slowly, yet oh so deliberately, Kela’s face begins to mirror the one Astra’s borrowed from her. She produces a second rocket launcher from her bag, and relinquishes it to her queen alongside a hefty pile of ammo. “They’re going to catch up soon.”

“That they are,” Astra agrees. “So, two of us, two groups of them. Do you have a preference?”

“There’s escaping Executioners in both.” Kela glares down at three of the now quite clearly former Executioners, one’s yellow hair marking her as extremely conspicuous. She aims, as much as one can aim where rockets are concerned, and fires another volley. 

“And you’ll get both. I’m you now, remember.” Why did Kela just glare at her for those words? If Astra didn’t know better, she might think someone else was going around impersonating Kela de Thaym recently. “Hold on, who’s…” 

Astra peers across at two apparent newcomers that the yellow-haired one is waving over to join her. A faunus girl with big rabbit ears, and… Great. Him again. Suddenly Astra finds that she actually does have a preference for which group she goes after and which she leaves for Kela. 

“Hold your breath,” she orders, taking up a ready position as some of those irritating huntresses (and some huntsmen too, she supposes, though they can’t be that helpful) draw closer. She throws down a smoke bomb, then she and Kela turn away from each other and run. 

It’s a surprisingly long way around the circumference of the central chamber. Thankfully Kela de Thaym wasn’t actually trying to run away, because if she was she’d have long since disappeared by now. She just wanted some high ground for her rocket launchers, and unfortunately, she’s got it. 

But they’re almost to her now, and they even picked up another on the way: Ozbot, found alone as he appeared out of thin air and chose to fly to their sides rather than plummet to the cavern floor far below. 

He doesn’t seem happy, at least not with Ruby – the name Hazel Rainart was mentioned, much to Coco’s confusion – but there’s nothing like charging at an enemy to take everyone’s mind off of other matters. They can go through the motions of the inevitable lecture about that later, once they’re not chasing down two identical Kelas de Thaym. 

“One of those is the shapeshifter,” Jaune declares. “Let’s go after them both. Weiss, can you…”

“On it.” Weiss swishes her sword and conjures a long series of glyphs off the side of the narrow path. The line cuts a shortcut across the cavern toward where one of the Kelas is now threatening Yang and Jade’s group, safely above the floor of the cavern and the crowd of Executioners still down below. 

Without hesitation, the three bodies of Team JNPR step out onto the first glyph, and run fearlessly through empty space toward their chosen Kela. 

The rest – Team RWBY minus Yang, plus Coco and Ozbot – continue on the main path ringing the cavern. Kela, if that’s really her, stops bombarding Yang’s group and turns her focus to them instead. Blake snipes the first rocket out of the air, Ruby gets the second, and Coco sprays bullets all across the far wall to explode the rest before they get too close. Ozbot raises his cane as if to fire magic from its end, but does nothing further as Coco’s attack proves sufficient. 

There’s no second volley, as Kela is forced to leap out of the way of sniper rounds now aimed toward her instead of her munitions. She holsters the launcher and pulls out a high-yield grenade instead: a favorite of retreating Grineer in general, but particularly a certain arena master. 

“I’d say better luck next time,” she jeers, already starting to climb up the wall again, “but you’s dead!” She pulls the pin with her teeth and tosses it down behind her, aiming only in the vaguest sense toward her pursuers. 

“I’ve got it!” Ruby calls, and before anyone can hold her back she swirls into a blur of red. She zooms upward and ahead, directly toward the tiny bomb and its blinking red light, and grabs it as she passes to incorporate it into her petals. 

Ruby’s path curves upward to follow Kela as she hauls herself and her many heavy guns up the cavern wall, and she ejects the grenade as she gets close. Below, Weiss twirls her sword and stabs it into the ground, and a wall of ice juts up around the group for protection. Ruby arcs backward and away, heading for the barrier where she’ll be safe–

And the grenade goes off. Suddenly Ruby is in human form again, blasted outward from the cave wall with dark red aura shattering across her body. Her eyes flutter shut and her grip on Crescent Rose loosens, and she drops limply past the edge of the path and tumbles down below. 

Her team pick themselves up off the ground and brush off the scattered shards of ice from their clothing, and immediately Weiss rushes to kneel over the edge. But there’s nothing she can do from here, short of leaping off the side herself – and as tempting as it is to do just that, that’s a move to make as a team. She won’t leave Blake and Coco by themselves, and especially not with only Oz to accompany them.

From the gradually thinning cloud of dust ahead, a tall figure slowly stands amidst the debris. Kela, her own aura in just as bad shape, flickering and cracking as she coughs and backs away. “You fools don’t know what’s coming to you,” she manages, her words devolving into a hacking cough again as she turns to flee on solid ground. 

Thinking quickly, Blake throws her gun in a wide arc. The ribbon wraps around Kela’s ankles and the blade at its end catches under one of the many rocks littering the path, tripping her to fall flat on her face. Coco sprints forward to pin her down with a knee on her back, and Blake follows close behind to bind Kela’s hands with the ribbon of her weapon. 

“One down,” Coco announces. “Wonder which one this is.”

Whatever is happening with their friends and the other Kela on the other side of Rathuum, it’s impossible to tell beyond the simple fact that there’s a vicious fight in progress. It’s the same down below where a red cape lays unmoving: a battle between dozens of Executioners and two figures in pure white cloaks, seemingly balanced despite the difference in numbers. 

“What do we do now?” Blake asks, staring over the edge. “I don’t think we can carry a captive all the way down there.”

“We’re going to need the captive for information,” Ozbot says. 

“What we need is to get Ruby back,” Weiss retorts. 

“Let’s not split the party any further,” Coco says, placing herself between the others. 

“So… what do we do?”

Can’t risk any more magic here. It’s too exposed up above, too close-quarters down here, and a quick look at Eve proves she knows the same. Eve extends her weapon into a glaive, and Xuri holds her sword out to the side. Those weapons will be perfectly sufficient. 

Executioners circle them, but really, Eve is perhaps one of four people she’d trust to have her back in a fight. Two are elsewhere in these caverns. One is on standby back home, because when the newly crowned Queen of Vacuo (and Xuri still hates that, thank you very much) wants you by any means necessary, you can’t exactly go to the doctor to get yourself patched up after getting stabbed. Or shot. 

Xuri, however, has no intention of getting stabbed or shot today.

Granted, she doesn’t usually leave the house intending to get stabbed or shot. That’s Jade’s thing, not hers. Xuri, however, has a semblance that does not depend on self-harm, and also a sense of self-preservation. Sometimes.

“I don’t think,” Eve says wryly, “they appreciated the show you put on.”

“Shame,” Xuri replies, looking pointedly at a particularly angry Executioner. “I made a much better Kela de Thaym. Hey, maybe I should find that Cressa Tal person and ask her out.”

And the battle begins anew. No magic—too many people, too many witnesses, too great a chance of messing up—but Xuri doesn’t need magic to kick Grineer ass. She’s got a sword, one that supposedly bears a striking resemblance to the Relic of Destruction—not that she’s ever seen it herself, not that anyone has actually seen it since it got sealed away beneath Shade. It’s her sword, and it would do plenty of damage even without the lightning cartridge in it.

But with the added kick? Those poor Executioners don’t stand a chance. A good two thirds of them don’t even have their auras unlocked, and while Xuri is still fucking pissed about Kela de Thaym straight up kidnapping people, she can understand why she’d go for huntsmen and huntresses now.

The vast majority of her Executioners? Useless. They fight for show, not to win.

It’s just as Xuri is thinking this that Eve cries out behind her. She turns just in time to see the hook of an Executioner’s weapon, caught on her cloak, yank her off her feet.

Eve rises fast, without her cloak. She shifts her weapon back into a gun, aims for a split second, and fires.

The Executioner laughs as dark red aura flickers to life, stopping the bullet harmlessly. Goddammit. Xuri swaps out the lightning cartridge for a wind one and swings her sword out in a wide arc, blowing her remaining opponents backwards. Then, she joins Eve, both of them with their blades at the ready.

Maybe just a little bit of magic? It is fun, and fun (for the audience) is what Rathuum is all about. But no, it’s still too dangerous to unleash any of that power right now. She shouldn’t need it just for this anyway. 

Xuri charges first, her sword held in both hands and positioned high for a solid chop. She intentionally stays just a little out of sync, arm movement too slow for her rapid approach, and the Executioner ahead sees his chance. He swings his hooked blade toward Xuri’s unprotected side – and catches nothing but air as Xuri blinks out of existence and appears a few paces back, her charge uninterrupted. 

Now he’s the one who’s overextended, and Xuri’s blade comes down hard across his forearms. Aura flashes once more as the man stumbles, and Xuri takes one final step inward for another strike. Her fingers find one of the dust cartridges around her weapon’s hilt and press it, and then a sharp forward-and-up jab with an infusion of gravity dust catches him in the chest and sends the Executioner flying backward over the heads of his fellows. 

Good enough for now. Eve’s already thinning out the crowds behind her, and by the time that one gets back, he won’t have so many distractions to help him out. 

In the end, against the Summer Maiden and someone who’s trained with her for years, none of them stand (much of) a chance.

At first, Yang thought no one had heard her shout. Amidst the din of fighting, it would be all too easy for two newcomers to miss, and perhaps they did – but Jade heard, and with a stab of her own knife she sent a signal that’s much harder to ignore. 

And then, the dozen or so Executioners still crowding the downward side of the path had found themselves effortlessly tossed aside as the unstoppable bulk of one Hazel Rainart barreled through them from behind. 

“Hey,” Yang greets him. “Figured Ruby might call you for this. Hey, Velvet, good to see you too. Where’s Fox and Yatsu?”

She fires a dust round from one gauntlet to stagger a Grineer fighter coming at them and give Velvet a moment to respond in safety. “We got separated,” Velvet says breathlessly. “Ozpin caused a cave-in.”

Yang glances between her and Hazel. “Yeah, I think I can guess what happened.”

Just then, three new voices call their names from behind, where no one should be. Velvet glances back past Yang and waves. “Hey, Team JNPR’s here!”

All of them together, arriving on a line of Schnee glyphs with Weiss herself nowhere to be seen. “Yang, you’re okay!” Jaune says excitedly. “And Scarlet and Sage… wow, bit of a crowd here, actually. You sure you need us?”

“Not really, but let’s stick together.” Yang nods toward the rapidly dwindling number of Executioners on the downward slope. “Nora, you see that woman in the white cloak, black underneath? That’s radio-Nora. Go say hi.”

Nora immediately zips off to do just that, and Yang continues to the others: “Also yeah, that’s Hazel, don’t worry about it. He’s on our side this time.”

Jaune only nods, understanding. “We ran into him earlier. Say, where’s Mercury?”

“Dunno. We saw Emerald, but… given Ren’s with you now, I’m guessing she wasn’t the real one.” Yang casts about for Velvet, hoping she might have some answers, but she’s already occupying herself with fighting. 

“She was not,” Ren confirms. “She looks like Kela de Thaym now. Could be the one team RWBY are dealing with, could be her right there.”

Ren points, and Yang quickly grabs the nearest few allies to draw their attention as well to the lone woman with a rocket launcher approaching from the opposite side and one level above. Jaune’s eyes flash pink, and a strong gust of wind pushes the first volley of missiles well over the group’s heads to explode on an empty spot of the floor far below. 

Nora the first – pink Nora? Short Nora? Trans Nora? – folds her hammer and returns fire with heart-emblazoned grenades of her own. But Kela, if that’s who she is, only disappears from the edge to take cover by the cavern wall instead, where even Nora’s arcing fire can’t easily reach. 

“Time to take another page from Cinder’s playbook, I think,” Pyrrha announces to no one in particular. “This is going to be either really fun, really stupid, or both.”

Her hands and feet all light up with flame, and she rockets into the air. Her friends watch from below as she struggles to control her rapid flight, stabilizing just short of slamming into the wall. She lets up on the magic strength just a little, enough to give a controlled flight past Kela where she can spray fire from one palm – until that attack itself pushes her away from her target and she has to loop around for another pass. 

“That the Fall Maiden?” asks Nora Night – the blacker, taller, and cisgender one –  as she looks up at the display through her ever-present sunglasses. Her black crystal sword is coated in blood now, running freely off the back side but frozen solid to the edge of sharpened dust. 

“Yep.” Yang nods, and sends an explosive round upward toward Kela the moment Pyrrha arcs away once more. 

“Y’all better hope she doesn’t live up to her title.” Pyrrha’s reckless careening around the upper half of the chamber certainly looks like she could lose control and spin out into a wall at any moment, but on the other hand she is causing a very nice distraction for the swarms of rockets Kela fires at her. Not one has hit her yet, though from the looks of it, that’s more due to sheer luck than any conscious avoidance. 

Evidently Kela is becoming tired of the display, as she stows her launcher and rifles through the small duffel bag at her hip instead. With a quick glance to confirm the human rocket is headed away from her for the moment, she kneels and creeps to the edge of the path above her enemies, then pulls the pin on a grenade and drops it along with the entire bag of assorted explosives as a single unit. 

“Everyone get down!” It’s short Nora who recognizes the threat first, perhaps from experience after the ambush earlier. “That’s a bomb!”

Kela, sprinting away from them up above, only seems to confirm that assessment. With only seconds to act, there’s no time for an organized response. It’s every huntsman and huntress for themselves. 

Sage and the two Noras actually get down, each diving away from the bomb to land flat on their stomachs with both hands covering their heads. Yang frantically signals to Pyrrha up above to stay back, and then does the same. Scarlet, for his part, leaps off the side of the path entirely, and uses his semblance to glide gracefully through the air and gain distance. 

Jade, of course, runs toward the bomb, likely intending to drop it the rest of the way to the floor now that Xuri and Eve have made their way to the other side of the cavern – though even with them safe, blasting the stone ledge out from beneath herself and the rest is only somewhat better than the alternative. 

Hazel seems to have had the same idea, but a flurry of neon blue shoots past them both. One of Velvet’s hard-light weapon constructs, but not just any weapon. A copy of Penny’s floating blades from a photo taken two years prior, finally seeing a moment that necessitates its use. The blades lodge themselves beneath Kela’s bag and flip upward, tossing the makeshift bomb a good ways farther down the path. 

And as the beeping from the bag’s interior grows louder and more insistent, it’s clear they’re all out of time. Hazel wraps both arms around Jade from behind and twists to heave her back and out of the way, then drops to his knees and elbows and covers his head.

The grenade goes off, and the force of its single blast rips through all the spare missiles and dust rounds and other grenades that Kela had with her, until every ounce of explosive material is violently releasing its energy at once. A shockwave ripples over the crowd with a deafening thump, and even those laying flat feel themselves pushed sharply outward by the force of it. 

Jade is a little less lucky. Though saved from a greater total impact by Hazel throwing her back, she finds herself not quite prone, wings slightly open to help her balance, and the shockwave hurls her into the side wall. The resulting flash of green is far brighter than any before as the remainder of Jade’s aura breaks, and she slumps unconscious at the base of the wall. 

But the worst is past, it seems, and people start to pick themselves up. Most cover their faces with a sleeve or collar to filter some of the dust in the air and start to pull out scrolls to check their auras, only to stumble as the entire cavern shakes. 

This mine is long abandoned, but that doesn’t mean every last speck of dust was taken out of it. Only as much as was feasibly cost-effective to carry away. The rest, in narrow veins running in odd directions relative to the existing tunnels, has remained for centuries just waiting for either a careful miner or an indiscriminate explosion. 

Rocks tumble from the wall as a series of muffled booms sounds off in a line heading upward toward the ceiling. Between Sage and Velvet – the latter with a hard-light copy of Yatsu’s greatsword – they can shield half the group from the debris, but Jade and the cloaked Nora still take a beating from falling stone. 

“I’ve got this one!” Hazel calls, picking up the unconscious Jade to sling her over one shoulder. “The rest of you, get out before any more of this place comes down!” He ducks into the nearest side tunnel and leaves at a run. 

Finally Pyrrha swoops down again to land in a semi-controlled manner near the rest, and she pushes her hands out wide to either side to erect a spherical barrier of magic around them all. “Is everyone okay?” she asks as Sage and Velvet lower their blades. “Come on, let’s move. The others are safe, as far as I could see.”

Yang manages a weary nod. “Aura’s shot, but I’m okay. Can you keep that shield up? Anyone know the way out?”

“I’ll take point,” Nora Night volunteers. “Wish I could text the rest of the group, but…” She glances up at the ceiling, still rumbling and dropping fragments of rock. “I feel like they’ll get the message to head out.”

Things are going… well, not fine, pretty damn far from fine actually, but not horrible either. There’s a lot of the Grineer, but they’re largely not that skilled, and it certainly helps when someone Clover’s dealing with trips and falls at an inopportune moment, or when one of Qrow’s strikes manages to send an Executioner stumbling back into two of his buddies.

Good luck, bad luck… really, it’s all relative. Now, Qrow feels a little stupid for not seeing it sooner—but only a little. For a few, breathless moments, they have a reprieve. Clover gives him one of his winning grins. He grins back.

But Qrow’s grin fades in an instant as he catches a glimpse of a red cloak. More accurately, someone wearing a red cloak, being carried away from the direction of one of the earlier explosions—and away from where they are.

Maybe that’s someone on their side. But given the entire reason they’re here in the first place—people being kidnapped by the Grineer, hello —Qrow isn’t willing to just trust luck on this, not even Clover’s. Newfound optimism can only take you so far, especially when larger explosions behind are starting to shake the floor. 

He takes a step forward, and catches sight of the weapon slung across the back of whoever is carrying Ruby. His eyes go wide. His blood runs cold.

“Qrow?” Clover asks, but he can barely hear him over the roaring in his ears. In an instant, he’s a bird. And in another, he’s flying fast, perhaps faster than he’s ever flown before.

He almost makes it, too. Call it sheer dumb luck—a stray rock falling from the roof, perhaps, hitting him in the wing. Or perhaps it was a bullet quite deliberately aimed at him. A bird this far underground isn’t exactly normal, after all.

The fact of the matter is that one moment, Qrow is almost there. He can almost see them, can almost put a face to the person he’s always known existed somewhere. The person he’s always known that if he met, he’d kill them. 

Then, it happens. Pain explodes in his right side, his aura goes down, and he’s falling as a boring old human again. Hard ground rushes up to meet him and—The next thing he knows, he’s blinking up at the faces of a very concerned Clover and a slightly less so… one of the other kids. Red hair, one of the missing ones.

“Qrow! Are you okay? How many fingers am I holding up?”

Qrow squints. “Two. We can’t just… they’re gone, aren’t they?”

“Who’s gone?” Clover asks. “What did you see? One moment you were right there, and the next you just… took off. And then you were falling, and… well, thank Scarlet, he did most of the work keeping you from sliding right into that chasm after you went down. I just got you both back up here, but we need to move. This whole place could come down any second.”

“You’re welcome,” says the redhead who must be Scarlet, slightly testily. He nods to Clover and heads off.

“I thought I…” Qrow shakes his head. “We’ve lost Ruby. I… I can’t let this happen. Not again.”

But now, possibly slightly concussed, there’s nothing he can do. Nothing except hope he hadn’t seen what he’d seen—but he had.

He’d know that weapon anywhere.

They can’t have been down there that long. A couple hours, at most, and if the late afternoon light of the Vacuan sun didn’t prove it, a quick look at anyone’s scroll would. Still, Sun can’t help but sigh in relief to see… well, the sun again.

He missed his namesake. And even if he didn’t, Sun Wukong clearly wasn’t meant for spending long periods of time underground. 

“Not getting anything from Velvet, or Coco for that matter,” Fox says, answering the unspoken question. “But V’s aura is… high- ish, and she’s at least still in range, somewhat. Plan from here is to regroup and wait for the others.”

“We still haven’t gotten anything from Sage or Scarlet,” Neptune says unhappily. “You think we should go back in?”

“And risk getting more lost?” Fox shakes his head. “I’m more worried about Coco, but if the rest of Rathuum wasn’t too bad, she should be fine for the rest. Your teammates will be fine, too.”

“Oh, they definitely will be.” Sun grins. “Team Sun have exactly three braincells between us and they usually belong to Sage. Sometimes Scarlet.”

“Rarely me,” Neptune agrees. “Never Sun.”

“You, shut it. Would I be such a successful stowaway if I never had the team braincells, Mr. I’m going to flirt with an extremely obvious lesbian?”

“You would know you literally do not have to be a stowaway at all if you had the team braincells, Mr. I hopped on a ship to Menagerie to follow a girl who has three girlfriends now?”

Yatsu looks between the two of them. Fox simply says, “What.”

“Uh,” Sun says intelligently. He’s saved from figuring out an actual answer by the heavier-than-they-should-be footsteps of local careless asshole Mercury Black. Sardonically, he calls over, “Hey! Congrats on finding the exit! You want a gold star?”

Mercury glares at him and says, quite emphatically, “No. I’m out of here.”

Fox snorts. “Right, because that worked so well the last few times you said it and then wound up following us at a distance anyway. If the blind kid can tell—”

“Shut up,” Mercury says before Fox can even finish. “I’m leaving. Don’t follow me.” And with that, he turns, and starts walking.

Yatsu’s scroll pings, and he immediately perks up. “Velvet. She’s with… oh!”

Fox leans over, listens to whatever his ADA is telling him about the screen’s content, and yells after Mercury, “Don’t you care at all about your own teammates?”

Mercury doesn’t turn. “Not my circus, not my fucking beringels.” And on that lovely note, while the part of the group that actually gives a damn about others continues to give a damn about their friends and teammates, Mercury only quickens his pace.

Chapter Text

“I know what I saw,” Qrow insists for the second time, or maybe the third. “We can’t just… do nothing.”

“And we aren’t going to do nothing,” Clover promises, holding Qrow’s hands in his own. “But I don’t know what you saw, and for us to do anything…”

“I know, I just…” Qrow exhales. “Ow. Little sore.”

“You’re lucky you aren’t more sore, pardon my pun!”

“Not the time, Cloves. I…”

“Hey, Uncle Qrow. Uncle Clover,” Yang greets, poking her head into their room. “He doing any better?”

Clover grimaces and makes a so-so gesture. “Has everyone made it back?”

“Almost everyone. Including a… really annoying extra. We’re still missing—”

“Ruby,” Qrow says for her. “We’re missing Ruby, aren’t we?”

“…yeah,” Yang says uneasily. “We are. She took a tumble, but someone picked her up. We wouldn’t have left her behind otherwise. You don’t think…”

“Might be the Grineer. Might be something worse.”

“I… don’t like the sound of this,” Clover says.

“Yang. You remember what your mother’s weapon looked like?”

The huntress blinks. “Uh… which mother?”

“Not Raven.”

“Then… vaguely? It was a sniper rifle, I remember Ruby got that from her, but I don’t remember what else it was. It wasn’t a scythe.”

“She called it Waning Gleam. It was a sniper rifle most of the time, but she could transform it at will into a glaive. It disappeared with her, but I… I saw it. Whoever picked up Ruby had Summer’s weapon. Summer’s last mission was to Vacuo, and… it just... It makes too much sense.”

Clover’s jaw drops. Yang, meanwhile, sums up the situation in a quite emphatic, “Fuck.”

“I was this close to catching up with Summer’s murderer.” Qrow blinks hard, and reaches for an icepack to hold it to his side. “And now they’ve got Ruby.”

“I’ll… tell the others. There has to be something we can do.” And so, with a quiet nod to her uncles, Yang heads back to the common area. She does fully intend to bring this up immediately. It’s a little hard when she walks into what can only be described as an interrogation, and not even of the right person.

“Professor Rainart is a teacher at Shade, I told you,” Velvet mumbles. She’s draped tiredly across her girlfriend’s lap, and unless they shifted and returned to the exact same position while Yang was gone, they haven’t let go of each other since reuniting. “There was literally no way I could have known who he works for, and really, if he’s not actively trying to cause another Fall of Beacon—”

“How do you know he isn’t,” Ozbot cuts in.

“—I don’t really care who he works for. He’s a good teacher, he knows a lot about Grimm.”

“Well he would, given that he works for Salem!”

“Uh… guys? Aren’t we forgetting someone?” Yang begins.

“Yeah! She’s right there!” Nora gestures angrily at the still irritatingly eyecatching woman sitting in the corner, looking quite unbothered by the fact that she’s bound and literally in the middle of her enemies.

“Oh, no, keep going,” Kela de Thaym says, “this almost makes what you did to my arena worth it.” At that last bit, her eyes do narrow, and she glares at Yang. Well, maybe she shouldn’t have gone huntressnapping then, if she didn’t want her precious arena to be blown up!

Instead of saying this, and giving her the satisfaction, Yang sighs. “I wasn’t talking about her. Not that she makes it easy not to.”

“The shapeshifter is still a problem,” Ren says. “They still have my scroll.”

All eyes go back to Kela, who shrugs. “Could be me. But I’d hope you’d be able to tell that you’re in the presence of the —”

“Yeah, that’s definitely the real one,” Yang concludes. “The one who attacked us wasn’t this…”

“Stunning? Eyecatching? Breathtaking?”

“I was going to say annoying.”

Finally shutting Kela up (if not for long) gives Yang the time she needs to say, “But I’m not talking about her either. Qrow saw something. It’s…”

She glances briefly to Kela again, then decides she’s not going to tell anyone anyway, and tells the group, “Ruby’s in trouble.”

Julie had really hoped she wouldn’t have to patch up any more wounded friends after their daring assault on the Crown. And indeed, her wish was granted, but in the same spiteful fashion that fate so often enjoys: she has a patient anyway, it’s just not a member of the Summer Maiden’s team. 

And worse, one of the team is missing entirely. Jade didn’t come back with the others. Nora reported that she was carried out of the caves by a friend, and any minute now Julie is expecting Nora to come back with a report from her semblance saying Jade is okay and on her way… but so far, nothing yet. 

“She’s got scrapes and bruises all over,” Julie reports to Xuri. “What happened to her?”

“Took a grenade at close range, got knocked out, and then fell off a cliff.”

“Wow.” Julie finishes extricating her patient from her red cape carefully, delicately, then waves Xuri over to help roll her over. “Looks like she took it pretty well. No broken bones, anyway. But she’s going to be sore all over, and I can’t check for a concussion until she’s awake.”

“Hmm. You know, she kind of looks like… oh, never mind. Interesting rose tattoo on her back, though. Must be her emblem.” Xuri wrings her hands awkwardly. “Anything you need me to help with here?”

Julie answers without looking, as she holds up a syringe and flicks it with one finger. “Probably not, but you’re welcome to stay. Just giving her some painkillers now. I have a feeling she’s going to need the strong stuff.” At a worried look from Xuri she adds, “Don’t worry, it’s safe for humans. I checked.”

“Julie…” Xuri shakes her head with a chuckle. “You practicing medicine without a license has saved our lives on several occasions now, but it’s never not going to worry me.” She runs her fingers down the length of her newest scar, well healed by now but still a prominent line across her stomach. 

“Would you rather use magic to transform people into cats before I work on them? I know it’s possible. Eve’s told me about the bird guy.”

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” comes a new voice. Eve, appearing practically on cue to check on the girl she and Xuri had saved. “Although, it is tempting to try on the next people who attack us.” Eve rests a hand on the unconscious girl’s shoulder, and she stirs slightly and lets out a low groan. 

“Hey, she’s waking up!” Xuri exclaims. She and Eve both look to Julie, but the vet has no instructions for them. She leans over closer and asks directly, “Can you hear me?”

She gets only another groan in response, a twitch of one hand, and eyelids that flutter briefly but stay shut. 

Xuri looks back to her team and shrugs. “I suppose that’s a yes?” To the patient, “You’re safe here. We got you out of the caves, away from the Grineer. You’re with Ozpin, right? Your team works for him?”

The girl in red moves her lips slightly and all three move closer to hear her strained, half-conscious voice. There is a moment of silence as she gathers her strength, and then two words come out, mumbled but clear in meaning. “Fuck Ozpin.”

“Um. Well…” Xuri pulls back, suddenly unsure of herself, and looks to Eve. “I thought she was with Oz, anyway? She certainly looks like one of the girls Jade mentioned.”

“Restrain her, just in case,” Eve instructs. “But I’d leave the questioning for when she’s actually awake.” She picks up the folded weapon off a nearby table and steps back to expand it into a ruby-red scythe, and gives it an admiring look. “Impressive weapon, this. Let’s keep it somewhere safe until we’re sure where her loyalties lie.”

With a flourish, Nora pulls open the door to JNPR’s shared room. She isn’t surprised to just see Jaune (or Pyrrha) lying back on their bed, one arm slung over their eyes.

“Hi there!” Nora says brightly. The only response is a groan. “Jaune, right?”

“How did you know,” Jaune mumbles.

“Lucky guess. Also, I don’t think Pyrrha would be having this much of a crisis over kissing the enemy. That is what you’re having a crisis over, right?”

“One of a few things. All that courage to tell Ren how I felt, and now I have to do it again!” He listens to a voice within his head. “No, it doesn’t get any easier with practice. Not when it’s like this. Besides, I kissed the enemy. Enthusiastically. A lot. Even Ruby hasn’t done that!”

“Not yet,” Nora says. “Not that we know of.”

“Please don’t let her know it’s a possibility. She might do it on purpose.”

His eyes flash pink behind his arm, signifying a switch, and Pyrrha says, “To be fair, I would be having a similar amount of crisis…isity? Over it if I was the one who actually kissed the enemy.” She sighs. “Jaune, you’re rubbing off on me. Next thing we know, I’ll start getting airsick.”

Nora tries not to laugh as Pyrrha’s eyes flash yellow, and Jaune is back. She also fails.

“First off, fuck you,” Jaune says. “Second off, nobody should be alone right now, so Nora… what did you say they’d change our team name to if we lost in the Vytal Festival?”

“Team Lose-iper, of course,” Nora says immediately. She takes a seat on the end of the bed, and pulls her legs up to sit cross-legged. “I’m not sure whether to be impressed or concerned that you remember that.”

“You did.”

“Ha, true!” Nora pokes his foot. “So, what else is on your mind?”

Jaune makes a noise that would be less out of place coming from a dying lancer. “What? Nothing, nothing, I swear. I’m fine. Pyrrha, please be quiet, now is not the time.”

Nora waits a bit, and then goes, “I’m going to take a wild guess she just told you that now is absolutely the time.”

“Okay, how are you doing the lightning stuff, because clearly your semblance is mind-reading and not that.”

“Nah, I’m just that good. You can talk to me.” For good measure, Nora adds, “Both of you.”

Jaune takes a deep breath, lets it out. Then he sits up on the bed, opposite Nora, and says, “Alright.”

“Alright?”

“It’s… well, you remember how we were planning to get Pietro to make Pyrrha a body of her own again? We’ve been talking, and… she doesn’t really want to get back in an aura machine. I’ve never even been in one, but I’ve seen one working twice, and…” Jaune shudders. “No thanks. So we’ve been thinking, maybe… we could just stay together. In the body, I mean, though we’re together in that way too.”

“Oh.” Nora blinks. “Congrats! Not gonna lie, I was expecting you to like… officially come out as bi or something, even though everybody except Ren already knows you have a crush on him.”

“Uh, no, not quite. But something related, I guess?” Jaune hesitates a moment and shifts himself forward a little on the bed. “Would you know… Do you think you could hook us up with some estrogen pills?”

Nora looks at her, a grin slowly growing. “Oh my gods, double congrats, I’d love to. So you’re also…”

“Well, I’m… I’m not really sure, about myself? But…” They sigh. “For all this time I’ve thought I was a man, but I’ve sort of realized lately, I was only thinking that because it’s what everyone told me. Since the moment I could walk and talk I was told, you’re a boy, act like one. So I did. Sort of. I’m not sure I was ever that good at it.”

Nora resists the urge to tell hir you weren’t, because ze is coming out, dammit, and nods wordlessly for em to continue.

“My first semester at Beacon I really tried hard, and… well, you know how that turned out. Bad for me and the whole team. After that… especially with Ren’s example… I just sort of stopped caring that much. I’d call myself a boy because it was expected of me, but that’s all.”

She nods sagely in xer general direction. “Equivalent of wearing a red shirt at that one store in Vale?”

“…actually, yeah, kind of? People assume I’m a boy and I’m just like, sure, I don’t actually work here but I can still help you. But, since having Pyrrha in here…” They point at aer head. “She has a really strong sense of being a woman. I notice it every time she’s in front. It feels weird. And then I noticed… I… don’t really have that sense in myself? If that’s what a gender is supposed to feel like, then… I’m not sure I really have one at all?”

Nora shrugs. “Maybe not! And that’s okay too. But you know… you don’t have to transition physically to be a different gender or no gender. You do know that, right?”

Jaune nods. “Yeah, it’s just… People call me a man and that’s what I’m used to, that’s okay. Then people talk about Pyrrha, in this same body, as a woman, and that’s fine too. I’m fine with whatever. But Pyrrha… isn’t. She needs to be seen as a woman, all the time.”

“Oh, same.”

“So, I want to make that happen for her. Since I’m not really that attached to my current gender presentation, I figure the one who really cares should get to customize the body how she needs to. Right?”

“Makes sense to me!” Nora crawls forward and hugs nem. “I’m proud of you, Jaune.”

“She’s not dyeing my hair, though.” They run one hand through zer yellow hair, already approaching shoulder length again. “Not more than half, anyway. I suppose I should thank Maria for not letting me cut it all off in Atlas.”

“Well, her semblance sees the future, right? Maybe she’s known this would happen all along.” Nora grins. “So, I guess the immediate question is, while I scope out where to get you some proper hormones, what do you want people to call you? Like, pronoun-wise?”

“Uhh… I’m not sure,” Jaune says. “Let me think about that.” It’s a big choice, even if they can change again later. But as they consider it, they realize they may already have an idea of what they’d like.

“Still no goddamn answer.” Mercury slides his scroll shut and pockets it angrily as he paces around the living room of the house his team shares. “She’s probably dead. But she could at least pick up her scroll and tell me she’s dead.”

“It is worrying,” Hazel agrees. He turns to the guest laying sprawled across a couch. “Jade, you’ve been fighting the Crown longer than we have. What do they do with their captives?”

“Depends.” Jade shifts position slightly, only to grimace in pain and contort her back to relieve pressure on her left wing. “What’s her semblance? I haven’t really seen her use anything noticeable in sparring seminar.”

Both Hazel and Mercury hesitate before answering, but finally Hazel speaks up. “Illusions, projected straight into someone’s mind. She can make people hallucinate anything.”

Jade lets out a low whistle. “Well. She’ll be alive, then. The Crown likes to, er… research strong semblances. Are you sure she’s with them?”

“We last saw her in a fight with them,” Mercury says. “Either they have her, or she and one of those Beacon kids decided to elope in the middle of a mission.” He rolls his eyes. “Though why anyone would want her is beyond me.”

“I know a certain Grineer scientist who’d want her,” Jade warns. “Name’s Regor, and he gets all the people with powerful semblances after Kela gets bored with them. No idea what he does with them. Probably trying to figure out how to copy their powers for his Queen.”

“Well I guess I’m the safest person around, then,” Mercury comments. “Anyone who wants to steal semblances should have talked to my father. That was his semblance, not that it did him any good in the end. I killed him even without one.”

Jade’s eyes narrow. “That smells like some bullshit to me.” She decides not to comment on the admission that this student apparently killed his own father. Presumably that’s why he now lives with a professor? “A semblance is a manifestation of the soul. You can’t lose it. I bet your dad only locked it again in you, while mimicking the effect in himself. You can unlock it again, if you – ow!”

She twists on the couch again to lay flat on her stomach, and flutters her wings. “Hazel, could you look back there and tell me what’s wrong? Anything look broken? Even with a mirror, it’s so hard for me to see.”

Mercury wanders off, though the look of boredom and resentment that perpetually masks his face looks almost like there might be a genuine emotion under it. Curiosity, Jade hopes. Maybe rediscovering a part of himself thought long lost will prompt a change for the better. Maybe it will even improve his grade in Jade’s class.

Hazel, meanwhile, inspects her wings and back as best he can. “Well, in addition to the obvious ankle… the bottom of your left elytron is cracked,” he reports. “Nothing looks out of place so it will probably heal… but I’m no faunus doctor.”

“The bottom? No, that’s not right, it feels like – ow, no, okay you’re right now stop touching it.” Jade flips up the wing cover in question. “How’s the wing look? Feels like someone’s stabbing me in the shoulderblade.”

“Healing is so far from my specialty…” But Hazel does his best. “There might be some swelling around the wing joint? I don’t know what it’s supposed to look like. Does it hurt when I…”

“Ow! Yes. Yes it does.”

“Sorry.” Hazel backs off and lets Jade close her elytra again. Just then the doorbell rings and he bellows, “Mercury, get that!” before returning his attention to his friend. “It’s probably sprained. You should really see a professional about that.”

Mercury returns to the living room with another man in tow – another faunus, with his trait almost as large and unwieldy as Jade’s own. A scorpion tail, coiling and flicking through the air behind him as he gives a deep, dramatic bow to Hazel. 

“Tyrian?” Hazel names his guest, but seems surprised to see him. 

“The one and only! But I’m afraid I’m here on business. You see, I’m looking for Ms. Fall.”

“Cinder?” Mercury asks, bewildered. “We were told that she’s dead.”

Tyrian scoffs. “Oh, no, not her. That one is quite dead, as she should be after her betrayal, her blasphemy, against our–”

Hazel clears his throat. “So who are you looking for?”

“Why, the other Fall, of course! The next Fall.”

Now that’s an interesting choice of words, and one which has only a single meaning in Jade’s mind. “The Fall Maiden?” she asks, and immediately regrets it. 

Tyrian’s gaze lands on her as if just now noticing her presence for the first time. “Indeed,” he says. “And who might you be?”

“Friend of Hazel’s, same as you,” she says cautiously. There’s something about that metal tail, he makes it look threatening even when he’s standing perfectly still across the room. “I’m sorry, you look… familiar, somehow? Have we met before?”

“Oh, no, not a chance. I’ve never been to Vacuo before in my life.” Somehow, Tyrian’s tail seems to become even more menacing. 

Jade frowns, and struggles to reach somewhat more of a sitting position on her couch. “No, I’ve only lived here a few years myself. Are you from Mistral? The far southern territories, closer to Menagerie than Mistral city. Do you know of the insect clans there?”

Tyrian only laughs, a sickening, unsettling sound. “I’m sorry, but it seems your schooling has failed you, then, because scorpions…” He extends his tail out to one side to point at it. “…are arachnids.”

“Close enough. My father was a horseshoe crab and had blue blood. I’m from the Clan of the Starfire Wheel. You?”

Tyrian’s eyebrows raise. “Black Star, once upon a time. I believe that makes our families allies. Although I do happen to be, just a little bit… banished.”

Jade bursts out laughing. “So am I! I tried to assassinate my father and take over a few years back, and didn’t quite manage it. But I’ve made a new life here, much better…”

“With a new purpose,” Tyrian finishes for her. “It is wonderful, isn’t it, finally coming to see the truth?” He grins, wider than anyone should be able to. “I see you’re helping Hazel with his mission already, but I don’t suppose you’ve seen the Fall Maiden around?”

“No,” Jade lies. There’s definitely something strange going on with this man, and she’s getting more uncomfortable by the minute. “If you want Fall, I’d suggest looking in Vale. Preferably before the Grineer march in and conquer it.”

“Hmph. No matter. I’ll find her…” Tyrian licks his lips. “Oh! I almost forgot… Good news, everyone. Especially for our new friend. If you haven’t yet met our Goddess, you’re about to get your chance. Her Grace is coming to Vacuo!”

Oh no. 

That’s what’s wrong about this man. 

And Hazel doesn’t even blink. Neither does Mercury. They know. They’re in on it too. Jade suddenly realizes she’s been sitting there frozen, and forces herself to make eye contact with Hazel. 

There’s so much she wants to convey in that look, that piercing stare – how could you work for her? How could you not tell me? What are you really doing here? You want Xuri, don’t you? I thought you wanted to help us. I thought we were friends. The other Queen has a presence here too? Are you three going to kill me now that I know? – but none of it comes out in words. 

Instead, all she says is, carefully, “I think there’s been a misunderstanding here.”

Jade levers herself up off the couch, takes one step toward the door – and immediately collapses to the floor as pain flares up in her quite-possibly-broken ankle. If she can just make it past Tyrian and his overeager tail, she’ll crawl all the way home if she has to. 

And then strong arms wrap around her and she’s picked up, and deposited back on the couch again. “You should rest,” Hazel tells her forcefully. “You’re in no state to be running or fighting right now. Tyrian, go look for the Fall Maiden elsewhere.”

Tyrian, surprisingly enough, bows again and backs away. “As you wish…” He licks his lips again and grins before finally leaving the room. 

“Jade, you are in no danger here,” Hazel tries again. “I do work for Salem, but I do not mean you harm. We are allies against the Crown. Just stay right there, and I’ll try to find you a doctor who can deal with wings.”

Well, it’s not like she has much choice. Hazel’s right, she can’t run away, and she certainly can’t fight like this. Especially not three on one. So, as painful as the whole situation is – and right now her leg and wing are the least of it – Jade settles down again to rest. 

Tyl Regor had once thought there was no such thing as being overextended. Provided one tried hard enough, he could in fact do everything, and his own semblance—once he finally unlocked it—only proved his point.

Still, even without having to waste eight or so hours every night sleeping like most people, it’s still quite possible to run out of time, particularly if you are working on several intensive projects all at once.

So, in theory, Regor shouldn’t be that broken up about his semblance research slowing down. It gives him more time to focus on everything else—and it’s not as if it’s stopping permanently. There won’t be any new research subjects from Rathuum for a while, but nothing short of a kingdom falling could keep Kela de Thaym down for long. They may not be friends— far from it —but as another who didn’t stop when the authorities at the time told them to, Regor can appreciate her determination.

At least he has one last subject before he has to put things away for the time being. But after that… what to do, what to do?

There is, of course, the cloning project, which even the Queens think will never bear any fruit. They, of course, are sadly misguided in that assessment. His tubemen will be the future! But not for a very long time, and so the cloning project has already semi-permanently been put on the backburner.

Then there is his kuva, his mind dust. Those fools on their floating island thought they had achieved the pinnacle of dust-based innovation with hard-light dust, but he has surpassed them. Mind dust is the future too, and a sooner future than the tubemen—though it would be nice if he could figure out how to keep it stable in a solid form. That would, of course, be much easier if the Queens didn’t insist on every drop of kuva he can make being brought to them at once.

Honestly, how do they go through that much of it? Don’t they know how difficult it is to produce? Or… well, Regor supposes they might not. He makes a mental note to walk one or both of them through the process next time they visit. Maybe then they’ll slow down their consumption of it. Maybe then he’ll actually be able to keep some for further study. 

Seriously, though, what do they do with it all? Sure, the Grineer have enemies, but Regor thinks he would have heard about it if that many of them died from untraceable pain-giving. If he didn’t know better, he’d think they were drinking it or something.

…Wait. That’s actually a distinct possibility. He had mentioned, once, that it functions as a highly psychotropic drug when consumed—but the Queens hadn’t seemed that interested at the time, and besides, he thought the purpose here was to create weapons. Regor sighs, and moves the show them how difficult it is to make item higher on his mental bucket list.

Cloning and kuva aside—and either of those projects alone would be enough to occupy a lesser man’s hours—there is also the Janus Project. The Queens don’t know of it yet, for he has been instructed not to bother them until there is something tangible to show off. They did not know of his tubemen or mind dust until there was something to show off.

Janus could be dismissed the same way as the tubemen. But once he has something to show for his work, Regor suspects, the reception will be much closer to that of the kuva.

So: no, he isn’t particularly bothered by having to slow down on the semblance research. It isn’t as if Regor will ever have a shortage of projects to work on.

Maybe he is, perhaps, just the tiniest bit overextended.

As far as waking up after passing out in bad situations goes, Ruby could be doing a lot worse. She isn’t anywhere near as sore (or tired) as she was after, say, the Fall of Beacon. She’s still very sore, and very alone, and she misses her girlfriends. But she’s lying on a couch, covered in a striped blanket, and…

And her hands are bound underneath it, and Crescent Rose is nowhere to be seen. Great. She pushes herself up, as best as she can without much use from her hands, and looks around. This looks like someone’s house, although it looks a lot more lived-in than Ozbot’s place even after she and her friends have been… well, living in it . There’s nothing too out of the ordinary, though—nothing except maybe the corkboard with various newspaper clippings she can’t read from here, at least one of which prominently displays a picture of chocolate chip cookies—and a couple of women sitting at a table near the door, holding a conversation in hushed tones. Both wear cloaks of white, just like everyone connected with the Summer Maiden apparently does.

Oh, good, she didn’t get kidnapped by the Grineer. Or anyone else for that matter, except… why would people with the Summer Maiden tie her up?

Looking over, Ruby clears her throat lightly. The taller of the two nearly jumps out of her chair. Getting a nod, she comes over, leaving the shorter woman to pull out a book. 

“Oh, good, you’re actually awake now,” the taller woman says. She pulls a cushion off the couch, sets it on the floor, and takes a seat on it, brushing a—is that a tail? Cool—to the side. “How are you feeling?”

“Um, good,” Ruby says automatically. “Why am I tied up? Why does this feel like an interrogation?”

“Because it is one. Who are you, and who do you work for?”

Ruby snorts. “I don’t work for anyone. Unless they’re offering free food, anyway. Who are you?”

“You didn’t answer…” The woman sighs, and pulls down her own hood. She’s got a mohawk and brilliant green eyes, and there was a hint of stripes around both wrists as she raised her hands. Coupled with the black equine tail…

“Oh! You’re Xuri!” Ruby grins. “Nice to finally meet you? Why did you tie me up?”

There’s one obvious answer here and Ruby really, really hopes it isn’t the case. But they all know the Grineer have a shapeshifter, and it would certainly answer the question.

“Taking precautions,” Xuri says. “Fine, if you don’t work for anyone—you don’t work for the Grineer?”

Ruby snorts. “Absolutely not, they kidnapped my friends and sister and girlfriend! My team has worked with Ozpin for a while now, though he’s become kind of unpleasant these days. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself, he doesn’t trust us, I don’t even know why he came with us to Vacuo! Probably because he doesn’t trust us, or anyone.”

The snort from the woman across the room as she turns a page could be coincidental.

“O… kay,” Xuri says slowly. “Well, we’re in contact with your group, we’ll ask them about you. What’s your name?”

“Ruby Rose. I’m a huntress.”

And at that, the formerly relatively uninterested woman across the room looks over. She is wearing glasses, tinted a pretty shade of pink. “Ruby… Rose?”

“Um… yes? Do we know each other?”

The lady with glasses closes her book, sets it down on the table, and strides over. Xuri looks at her, one eyebrow raised, but is—for now—ignored.

“Show me your eyes,” the other woman says.

“You can see them,” Ruby says without moving. “They’re silver. And yes, I know that what that means, I can use them. Who are you? How do you know me?”

In one quick motion, the other woman leans in, reaches up—and tilts down her glasses. Ruby’s silver eyes meet another pair not at all unlike her own.

“You have silver eyes too?” Ruby exclaims.

“Show me your hands.”

Ruby does so, digging them out from under the blanket. Within seconds, her bonds are cut, the hooded woman kneeling before her.

“What’s… going on here?”

“No, actually, what is going on here?” Xuri echoes. Suddenly, the Maiden freezes. “Wait. Is that really…?”

“Xuri, meet Ruby… your sister.” Before Ruby can even begin to figure out what she means by that, the other woman takes off her tinted glasses, slipping them in a pocket of her cloak, and then pulls down her hood for good measure.

But by then, Ruby already knows. She’s already staring into a face that’s a near mirror of her own, and not just from the eyes. A face she’d long thought dead, a face she’d long ago stopped expecting to see ever again.

“My name is Eve Lumen, but it was not always. Once upon a time… it was Summer Rose.”

And with that, a ghost sadly smiles.

Chapter Text

“Team SOMA!” A call over the loudspeaker echoes through the main auditorium of Shade Academy. Four young women make their way up to the stage, led by their fearless team captain. Sylphe Lavender, Marisa Afor, and then breaking the team order to walk together, Astra and Ozma Vermilion. 

The latter two look nearly identical, as they so often do: both lithe of body, dressed all in brilliant blood red, with straight black hair to the middle of their backs. The only difference between them is the streaks of red in their hair, on the right side for one and the left for the other. Anyone trying to use those to tell the girls apart, naturally, gets told wildly inconsistent answers about which of them is which. 

Only when the team is set to line themselves up side by side on the stage do they separate to take their proper places. A sharp-eyed observer might take note that the girl in Ozma’s position has her red streak on the left, and Astra’s on the right, but naturally neither would ever deign to confirm or deny such rumor of their identities. 

“Well done, Team SOMA. You have come far in these past four years. Now, please raise your dominant hands and recite the Huntsman Oath.”

One of the Vermilion girls raises her right hand, and the other her left. Exactly one of them is lying. 

“I,” they begin in unison, followed by a jumble of four names spoken over each other, “do hereby swear to protect with body and soul all the people of Remnant, to uphold justice and peace in all my dealings, and to serve beyond all borders of kingdom or species, until the end of my days. This oath I take willingly and without reservation, in view of the people and Council of the Kingdom of Vacuo, and only by their consent do I name myself a huntress.”

Applause erupts from the audience, from all their classmates, friends, and families who have come to watch their graduation. 

“Congratulations,” says Headmistress Chrysos Cherev from the side of the stage. “I accept your oaths, and I am proud to call each one of you a true and legitimate huntress of the Kingdom of Vacuo.”

The team files off, each pausing to shake the Headmistress’s hand on their way off the stage. And then they’re back to their seats among the other students, watching and listening and clapping for each of the teams that follow them. Team TASL, team WAYV, team WRGT, and finally… team ZRCN. 

“This concludes the oaths for Shade Academy’s eighteenth graduating class. Well done, everyone. It’s been an honor getting to know each and every one of you. When King Oswald of Vale called me to this post some twenty-two years ago, to be the first leader of one of his new Academies, I thought there was little hope for the institutions. But because of you, the students, who have worked hard to make this not just a place of learning but a home, Shade has not only endured but thrived. And as I prepare for retirement, it is this class in particular who have my gratitude, for seeing your skills is the best sendoff I could imagine. Thank you, all of you, and I wish you the best of luck as huntsmen and huntresses.”

The closing remarks from various professors and Council members pass quickly, and the moment the ceremony is declared complete, Astra and Ozma slip out a side door and ditch the other two members of their team. Sylphe is undeniably a strong team leader, and what Marisa lacks in strength she makes up for in astonishingly good singing, but despite four years with hardly a moment apart, neither has ever come close to being able to synergize her skills with the twins the way they fight with each other. 

It’s probably better this way. There’s no expectation that teams will stay together after graduation, and the Vermilions are used to looking out for no one but each other. 

“So,” Ozma comments as they walk together in the warm Vacuan sun. “Guess we’re huntresses now.”

“That we are,” Astra agrees. “Pretty cool we can make a living just killing Grimm, now. With a title, recognition everywhere we go, people look up to us for… really not that hard a job.”

“Yeah… I mean, people have always done it, but the title and everything is new. Dad’s generation didn’t have any of that.”

Roviik Vermilion had grown up in a world without Huntsman Academies. A world where kingdoms had kings, instead of Councils. A world where Grimm hunters were disorganized freelancers getting work through word of mouth, and where their insufficient presence in Mantle led to a de facto legal ban on human emotion itself. 

Mantle, the one kingdom he had never lived in, because who in their right mind would settle the frozen tundra of Solitas and call that a home? He’d said as much to his daughter and her friend once: do not tempt the world’s spite, do not rely on the kindness of chance in weather, money, or any other matters. Anything necessary for life or critical to future plans must be under one’s direct control. It’s a lesson the girls had always tried to take to heart, and a large part of why they’d gotten married as soon as they were old enough to do so.

…For the tax benefits after Roviik died, of course. And to give Astra a last name that matched her looks.

“So what do we do now? Just… find a mission board?”

Astra shrugs. “We could. We grab first pick of the missions while everyone else in our class is celebrating, then have our own graduation party once we’re ten thousand lien richer. Longer term though, do you remember what your dad told us about the Battle of Vacuo? What happened there, what he saw?”

“You don’t mean magic?”

“That’s exactly what I mean. Sixteen years he swore that’s what he saw, and if he were still with us he’d tell us again. Women who floated in the air, throwing down fire without dust. A lightning storm that only ever struck one side. King Oswald raising the dead, and cutting down enemies in a single stroke of his sword like aura wasn’t even an obstacle. His story never changed, never exaggerated, and even the historians acknowledge there was something weird going on with the weather that day.”

Ozma hums an uncertain note. “He did come back terrified of Vale’s king,” she admits. “Enough to move out and go to Vacuo within the month. Good he did though, or he wouldn’t have met Mom.”

“Yeah.” Astra stops for a moment, and looks out over the horizon. “I was just thinking, with our skills and status now, we could go looking for the truth of all that. See if magic really does exist.”

“If it was just our skills, we could have done that a couple years ago,” Ozma comments. “But the status, the easy money, that will really help. That’s one good thing that came out of the Great War, I guess. Not too sure these Councils in every kingdom will last, but we’ll see. Maybe if we’re lucky, Mistral won’t be quite so evil.”

Astra bursts out laughing as she and Ozma continue on, heading now toward the Council building of their own home kingdom, where they know a huntsman mission board displays jobs of all sorts. “Might be too much to hope for. We’ve certainly heard enough horror stories from your dad about the place. He could almost forgive Mantle, they were just scared and misguided, but Mistral… they were malicious, they chose to implement the bans only on the outer territories.” 

She snorts and rolls her eyes. “They deserved what the King of Vale did to them.”

“Their leaders did, anyway. And anyone who volunteered to fight for them. They were drafting people against their will by the end, though.” Ozma balls her hands into fists. “I’m not convinced about magic, but I do remember one thing Dad always said. If we ever have a position of power, be better than that. Don’t be like Mistral. Stand strong and independent, like Vacuo.”

“And we will.” Astra takes her wife’s hand and holds it until the stress is released. “That, more than any oath, is what being a huntress means to me.”

For a normal woman, walking down a narrow alley in Vacuo’s eponymous capital city might be dangerous. For two well trained huntresses with fifteen years of experience under their belts, it’s just a shortcut to the marketplace, nothing more. 

So when a battered, bloody man with a greatsword across his back stumbles out of one of the few doorways that actually open onto this six foot wide passageway, the girls hardly take notice. When the man sets eyes on them and immediately lurches in their direction, they put a hand to their weapons, but remain calm. 

“Help me,” he croaks as he staggers forward, finally dropping to his knees a short ways ahead of them. 

Ozma reacts first, running to the man’s side to support him before he collapses completely. “Gods, what happened? Astra, call the emergency line, let’s get this man to–”

As she speaks, light steel-blue aura begins to shine around the injured man’s body. His grip on Ozma’s arm is tight, and she finds her own brilliant red aura flaring up as well without even meaning to. And then, her words are cut off by an audible crack as the two colors suddenly swap. 

As Astra looks on, the body that should belong to her wife drops the other unceremoniously, unholsters Ozma’s own weapon and tosses it in the street, then leans down to pluck the single-edged greatsword off the injured one’s back. “Nothing personal,” Ozma’s voice says, but it’s not her behind the words. “But I needed my Continuity, and you happened to be in the wrong place at the right time.”

Ozma’s real voice touches her thoughts at the same time, silently to the outside world. “He swapped us somehow! This body is dying and he wanted out. You can fix it, not me.”

Ozma activates the other part of her semblance to swap bodies again, this time with Astra. They clasp hands together, and in moments Astra’s transformation kicks in to shift this damaged body into a perfect, healthy copy of her wife. 

Now there are three of the same form gathered in this alley, one with bluish aura and two with red. “Well that wasn’t very nice,” Astra comments. She picks up the weapon this body-stealer had dropped and shoves it back into his hands, snatching the greatsword away in the process. “Whatever you did, you’d better do it again, because I am not going to wear your bloody, too-big clothes all the way home.”

The formerly dying man, astonished, reaches out to take her hand and swap back. “That’s… impressive, I’ve got to say,” he begins, no longer seeming as intent on leaving as he had a moment earlier. “My name is Ballas. You?”

“I’m Ozma,” Astra says. “This is Astra.”

“Ozma, hm?” Ballas seems to know that name. “I met a woman once who said her greatest enemy was named Ozma. Somehow I get the feeling you’re not him, though after that display, who’s to say, really?”

“We don’t have a clue who you’re talking about,” the real Ozma says. 

“No, I don’t imagine you would. I turned down the invitation to get involved myself.” Ballas shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “Got other projects of my own, you see. Someone with your abilities, though, you could be very valuable. Can you both do the transformation thing?”

“We can,” Astra answers. So long as Ozma’s semblance stays pointed at her alone, anyway. But why would she ever link to someone different? 

“Then I’ve got a proposal for you.” Ballas starts toward the end of the alley and waves for the twins to follow him. “How would you two like to help found a new kingdom?”

Astra and Ozma exchange a look and a few telepathic comments, but outwardly they only gesture for Ballas to continue. 

“The Kingdom of Lua,” Ballas proclaims. “North of Mistral city. Beautiful spot at the base of the mountains, protected by a series of seven lakes, just the kind of natural barriers a kingdom needs. The city’s lasted a good seventeen years already, but we can always use a pair of huntresses with unique abilities – you are huntresses, right?”

As one, they produce their scrolls and flip them open to their official licenses. “We are,” Ozma tells him. Then, beamed directly into Astra’s mind, “If this guy wants us to move to the middle of nowhere, he’d better be paying well.”

The trio emerge from the alley and Ballas continues toward the market, where Astra and Ozma were originally headed anyway. “Good,” he says. “The skills are all that matters, but the air of legitimacy is nice. It makes up for some of what I lost in the Great War. With the two of you helping fill out the High Council…”

“Back up a second,” Astra instructs. “You were around before the Great War?”

“I look good for seventy-four years old, don’t I?”

“Of course you look good. You look like us.”

Ballas laughs. “This body isn’t quite my style, but point made. I was twenty-seven when the fighting broke out. Kept out for a long while, finally ended up in the Battle of Vacuo. Great opportunity to fake my death, that. Just had to steal a new body and let the original one die of its wounds.”

“The original one… with some random person you switched into it?” Ozma recalls the rather unpleasant experience of a few minutes earlier, and Ballas doesn’t even respond except with a carefree wave of one hand. 

“Her father, Roviik, he was in the Battle of Vacuo too,” Astra mentions. “He fought for Vale. What about you?”

“Roviik?” Ballas stops short, and slowly turns to face the pair behind him. “Your father is Roviik Vermilion?”

“Uh, yeah?”

They get only an incredulous stare for a moment longer. Then, “The Roviik who lived in Mistral when he was young, and moved to Vale when the art prohibition came down? Even though he was in Mistral city where the law didn’t apply?”

“…That’s him.”

Ballas beams at them and clasps his hands together. “What good fortune! Roviik was my best friend for a decade or more! Even after he moved away, even through the war, we kept exchanging letters. I’d heard he had twin daughters.”

“He had one daughter. I’m her wife.”

Ballas ignores the comment entirely. “I remember like it was just last year. Me, sneaking out where I didn’t belong, swapping bodies with a trusted friend first so I wouldn’t be missed… We had a lot of fun, Roviik and I. Those were simpler times. Then he left, and then the war…”

The notes of melancholy in his voice evaporate as quickly as they’d come. “Well! Who am I to dismiss such a clear sign of fate? You two must come to Lua. Together we will build a kingdom unparalleled by any other. Perhaps it is fortunate indeed that the man I came here to meet tried to kill me–” Ballas shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “–because in his failure he directed me to someone better. Shapeshifting spies who can heal any wound in moments…”

“We haven’t agreed to anything,” Astra points out. “Though it’s nice to feel appreciated.”

“And,” Ozma adds, “you’ve talked a lot about your city, your ambitions, your plans for us and all that, but we haven’t really heard anything about you. You may have known my father but we’ve never met you before. The job is certainly tempting, something to think over at least, but… that’s kind of important as well.”

“Ah. Of course.” Ballas alters course now that the edge of the street market is finally in sight, and comes to a stop in the mouth of another alleyway. “There’s a reason I am building a new kingdom, and it’s because my old one no longer wants me. Even if they knew I was still alive, they’ve… eliminated my old position, so to speak.”

He glances both ways down the street outside, and finds no one who might overhear. “Are you familiar with the name…” Ballas screws up his face with disgust, then frowns and pushes past it. “Princess Vesta?”

“Sounds vaguely familiar. Who’s that?”

“That–” Ballas shudders at the thought. “–is what my father, the last Emperor of Mistral, used to call me. He was quite mistaken, of course.” Astra and Ozma exchange a look. “Yes, it’s true,” Ballas continues at the sight of them. “That’s why I had to leave my original body behind when slipping out of the palace. It had to be seen. Not that I ever liked that body to begin with.”

But that wasn’t the thought that had passed between the wives at his words. “He’s the heir to Mistral’s throne?” Ozma sends silently. “He doesn’t have a clue what my father thought of his kingdom, does he?”

“Guess not. There’s a reason he moved, and I’d agree. I think we’ll be staying here in Vacuo.”

“Absolutely. Now to tell him that.” Ozma clears her throat, interrupting what was looking to be the start of a monologue about how great Ballas’s new kingdom was going to be with him in charge. “Would I be correct in assuming that your goal with Lua is to be a better Mistral? And by better, you mean more of all the things that the old Mistral was?”

Ballas nods. “Precisely. My kingdom will be stronger, control a wider territory – eventually – and keep it free of Grimm, and perhaps one day… we might conquer the old capitol itself and unify all of Anima under the banner of Lua.”

“Alright,” Astra says, mostly just to make him stop talking. “Our goal, though, has always been to be better than Mistral. By which we mean be none of the things the old Mistral was: corrupt, out of touch, rigidly segregated with laws changing based on one’s location or species… we want the place we live in to be the opposite, and I don’t think working with the prince of Mistral is going to make that happen.”

Ballas freezes. Clearly that wasn’t the sort of answer he’d expected at all. “You… didn’t even discuss it between yourselves,” he says cautiously, looking to the identical body which had not just spoken. 

“Oh, we did,” Ozma says. 

“We always do.”

“You may look like one of us right now,”

“but you don’t share the connection that we do.” Astra grins. “And we’re in agreement that Lua is not the place for us.”

Ballas’s face lights up with recognition briefly before settling into a sneer. “I see… you’re telepathic. That’s one of your semblances, and only the other can do the transformation thing.” 

His easygoing stance shifts slightly, and even though his hands never move toward the sword on his back, Astra and Ozma both mentally ready themselves as well in case they have to fight. 

But no aggressive move follows. “You know, funny thing about semblances,” Ballas comments instead, “how sometimes they’re heritable. Sometimes exactly, like how Nicholas Schnee’s daughter got his same thing to perfect precision. More often just an echo, a twist, something not quite the same but close enough to tell the relation. Yet, you two women seem to have semblances that synergize startlingly well.”

Astra’s eyes narrow, but neither she nor her wife say a word. 

“I did exchange letters with your father for years, and in one of them he did mention a daughter… but who’s to say he only had the one? He invited me to come and visit, though I’m afraid I couldn’t make the trip. Besides, I’d just seen Roviik – and his wife – less than a year earlier. Wonderful woman, by the way, so sorry to hear she died in childbirth. Nothing Roviik could do, of course, with his semblance of… what was it, freezing liquids with a touch? Nothing at all like fixing or replacing a damaged body, or telepathy.”

Ballas gestures first to Ozma, then Astra, and at last himself with those words. He shrugs, and starts to turn away. “Ah, well,” he calls back over his shoulder, “He always did strike me as the type to play at favorites.”

With that parting remark, Ballas walks away. He does finally take the weapon off his back as he leaves, but holds it down in a nonthreatening grip – ready to shove it into the unsuspecting hands of the next person whose appearance he fancies, to keep that one item alone as he begins another new life. 

Ozma rolls her eyes as he goes. “Gods, that was the most long-winded ‘I fucked your mom’ that I’ve ever heard.”

Despite it all, Astra laughs. “By far. Question is, though… do we believe him?”

“The prince of Mistral? I wouldn’t put much stock in what he says about anything. Us, being sisters? Not a chance.”

“But what if it is true?” Astra steps in closer and takes Ozma’s hand, gently squeezing it for her own comfort. “He clearly knew our dad, and he had a point about the semblances. We’ve always assumed that I just turned into you when I was really little and I don’t remember it, but what if I didn’t?”

Ozma looks at her, and gently tilts her chin up to lock eyes. “We’re not sisters,” she says simply, “because if we truly were, I wouldn’t do this…”

She releases Astra’s hand and instead wraps that arm around her twin’s shoulders. They stare into each others’ matching eyes a moment longer, and then Ozma pulls them closer still to join in a tender kiss. 

“…Oh.” Astra’s cheeks flush pink and a warmth spreads through her body. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Ozma whispers. “What he said isn’t true in the slightest – and if it was, we don’t consider each other sisters, and that’s really what matters here. I suppose I should thank him… after all, without that, I might never have worked up the courage to admit I didn’t just marry you for the tax benefits.”

“I can take a guess that you’ve wanted that about as long as I have,” Astra murmurs back. “And you’re right. Neither we nor anybody else can go back and find out for sure now…” She leans in for another quick kiss, then smiles as they touch their foreheads together. “So as long as it makes both of us happy, what does the truth really matter anyway? Though I will say… I didn’t just marry you for the tax benefits either.”

“Of course.” Ozma snorts lightly, and gestures to herself. “I look great.”

Astra’s identical smile on an identical face only grows. “Of course you do. You look like me. And now we’re the only people in the world who can answer that age-old question of whether or not we’d fu–”

Ozma silences her with a kiss. “One thing at a time, Astra – we may have been married for eighteen years, I’m as impatient as you, but can we at least get home first? We wouldn’t want to run into another Ballas.”

The plan had gone off without a hitch. The councils were never a particularly good idea, but a mediocre idea becomes significantly worse when one of the members stubbornly refuses to care about anything besides her own inflated ego.

As for Astra and Ozma Vermilion… well, they did swear an oath to uphold justice, didn’t they? It will, of course, be a complete coincidence that a not insignificant portion of the councilwoman’s files wound up in the possession of some very interested authorities. Astra will need to transform back into her usual form soon enough, but for now…

Councilwoman Vitis certainly looks good. What a shame it is that she’s such a horrible person.

“Here’s to a job well done,” Astra says cheerfully, clinking her glass against Ozma’s. 

“Indeed,” Ozma agrees, and sips delicately at her wine.

Astra looks at her own for a moment, considering it. “Perhaps you should take a picture of me drinking, while I’m still in this form. She is rather publicly against it, after all.”

Ozma raises an eyebrow, but reaches for her scroll nonetheless. Astra waits for her to pull up the camera app and nod, and then raises the wineglass to her lips.

There is the flash of her camera, the audible snap of it taking a picture, and Astra swallows. The wine is excellent. She can’t imagine why the councilwoman wouldn’t enjoy it, particularly given that Astra would need to drink copious amounts to come to terms with making some of her decisions.

Strangely, her mouth and then throat begins to itch. She can’t very well scratch an itch there, so instead, she drains her glass. It should soothe that.

It does not. It makes her throat even itchier, even more dry and scratchy. She sets the glass down on the table, yet misses slightly and it falls to the floor with the unmistakable sound of shattering. Ozma looks at her and frowns.

“Astra? You’re looking a little… red.”

“Very funny,” Astra says, except it comes out more along the lines of veby fubby. Ozma, sitting next to her on the couch, legs tangled up with hers, looks even more concerned. And also significantly blurrier.

Oh dear. Maybe there was a reason for Councilwoman Vitis’s personal abstention. Besides the obvious blatant hypocrisy, of course.

“Astra— Astra! Look at me. You have to—”

Astra takes Ozma’s hand in hers and, with a thought, activates her semblance. Red aura flares up for both of them as she transforms, once again, into the middle-aged form they are both so familiar with.

The scratchiness, the dizziness—it’s all gone.

“That… just happened,” Astra remarks dryly. “I didn’t… was that an allergic reaction? I’ve never been allergic to wine before.”

“I know I’m not,” Ozma replies, “and… you can transform back into me if it happens again. Try drinking some of mine.”

“Buy me dinner first,” Astra jokes as her lover’s wineglass is passed over, but she takes a cautious swig nonetheless. Nothing happens. The wine is still lovely, but as herself—she’s fine.

As Councilwoman Vitis—

“Well,” Astra concludes, “I… apparently I was right.”

“Hm?”

“My semblance does transform me into a perfect copy of whatever person I use it on. Not just outwardly, everything. It would have to—otherwise that wouldn’t have happened.” She gestures vaguely to the glass shards on the floor. Neither of them are in any particular hurry to clean that up, so she passes Ozma’s glass back to her. “Which means… well, I could fool a DNA test. But more importantly… we could be forever young, if we wanted.”

Ozma’s already raised eyebrow travels higher. “Are you saying that we could be immortal?”

“In a sense, yes! By copying someone younger than us, I can de-age myself. Then you switch us, and I can make our other body match as well. And that’s…”

“That’s awesome,” Ozma finishes for her.

“Your dad always said that if we ever have power, to use it well. And with this… we could live forever. We could have power. And…” Astra rolls her eyes. “The councils. They’re useless. When one of them inevitably fails, we could step in and take its place.”

Ozma nods along, already thinking along the same track. “Because if we’ve been around longer than anyone else, if we’ve seen what works for a kingdom and what doesn’t, then why shouldn’t we take over and put that knowledge to use? The Vacuo Council, at the best of times, argues so much that their help is too little, too late. And that’s when they’re not actively making things worse.”

“But we don’t fight like that. We understand each other.” Astra reaches over and takes another sip of her partner’s wine. “We need to start thinking longer term. Decades ahead, if not centuries. We can start positioning ourselves now to rise to the top when the time comes.”

“Or—and hear me out here—” Ozma takes Astra’s hand in her own and gently intertwines their fingers. “We don’t have to just wait passively. We took down Vitis easily enough. Let’s do the other four too. Isn’t it our duty to overthrow the lot of them and be better?”

“You know, Ozma…” Astra smiles deviously. “You just might be right.”

“And,” Ozma adds, “if anyone comes after us, you can just turn us into someone else and we walk free.”

Astra holds up one finger to caution her partner. “Let’s not move too fast, here. We’ve got all the time in the world to get things right. Eventually, no matter what, we’re going to need allies. Supporters, people to legitimize us over the old system… people to take the fall for anything particularly nasty we might have to do. Our first move should be to build up an organization, get some name recognition, then we move against the Council in a few years.”

Ozma opens her mouth to speak, then closes it and nods. “You’re right,” she concedes. “We shouldn’t be hasty. As fun as it sounds, I don’t know the first thing about conspiracy or organized crime or whatever it is we’ll be doing.” 

She finishes the wine in her glass, and makes eye contact with Astra as she motions as if to refill it. Astra merely waves a hand to decline the replacement of her own broken glass, content instead to stare into the middle distance, lost in thought. 

“We’ll need a name,” Astra says finally. 

Ozma nods. “How about… the Crown? It’s short, simple, sounds like a proper secret society, and it’s a reasonably accurate description of our eventual goals.”

“Not bad,” Astra admits. “I’m just thinking… what’s the one thing the Vytal Treaty really got right? It ended slavery in every kingdom. If we’re aiming for a similarly major change, we could do something with that. Take the Old Mistrali word for slaves, maybe. Grineer. Reclaim it for the name of a new power.”

“Bit more obscure than my idea,” Ozma comments. 

“Yeah, well…” Astra chuckles. “There’s no reason we can’t use both, right? When the group gets bigger we might want two layers to it anyway, so if some recruit fucks up a mission they can’t tell the police anything useful.”

Astra stands, and goes to fetch a roll of paper towels to deal with the spill. When she finishes and straightens up again, Ozma pulls her into an embrace and kisses her neck. “I think we’ve got a plan,” she whispers. “But I think that’s enough planning for right now, wouldn’t you say?”

“Of course,” Astra whispers back. “I think we deserve a bit more celebration than just some wine.”

“I still think this is probably a trap,” Ozma thinks to her partner. 

“Of course,” Astra replies, unconcerned. “Which is why it’s important that I walk into it. At worst, we still find out how much our enemies know about the Crown. At best, we eliminate a few tonight. Either way, they learn that their best trap can’t catch us.”

And because this meeting is very likely a trap, Astra doesn’t look quite like herself. Earlier in the day she’d wandered through the crowds at the street markets, brushing up against countless strangers who had no idea of her goals. Each one donated ten percent of a transformation through their brief contact, and Astra morphed one step at a time into a form not identical to any existing citizen of Vacuo. 

It’s safer this way. Facial recognition is a new technology, not often seen outside of Atlas, but if anyone here were to employ it to discover the identity of the Crown’s leader, it would be someone like Headmaster Berzins. 

In addition, just in case things go wrong… Ozma is on the roof of Shade itself with a sniper rifle, where she can look down on this secluded courtyard in the Academy’s grounds and warn Astra instantaneously if someone approaches from any direction. This was meant to be a one on one meeting, and she’ll make sure it stays that way. 

“I’m at the spot,” Astra reports in. “Don’t see Berzins yet.”

“I see you. Someone heading your way too, alone. Probably him.” A few seconds pass in silence. “Yeah, he’s got a wolf tail. That’s the headmaster.”

Astra waits patiently for the man to appear, both hands held empty where a visitor will be able to see them. That doesn’t mean she’s unprepared for a fight. After all, even from the very beginning Shade Academy had emphasized students’ ability to defend themselves with anything on hand, or nothing at all. Theo shouldn’t know she’s a past graduate of his very institution, but he of all people should recognize that being empty-handed doesn’t make her a pushover. 

“Welcome, Mr. Berzins,” she speaks preemptively as the man rounds the corner into their private meeting spot. “I hear you wanted to meet with the Crown.”

“Indeed,” he replies, and glances toward every exit before returning his gaze to her. “Are you certain we are alone, and cannot be overheard?”

Astra nods. “Of course. I didn’t bring backup if you didn’t.”

“And if I had, I would have left them well back from this position, for exactly that reason.” 

Seemingly satisfied, the headmaster takes one more look around, then takes a deep breath to steel himself. He reaches down behind his back – and detaches his tail, bringing it out to dangle limply in front of his guest. “Theodore Berzins is dead,” he says. 

Astra’s eyes widen. “You’re… not him,” she realizes. 

“No. The ‘accident’ that supposedly hospitalized him for two weeks recently was in fact his complete replacement by an impostor: me. I have his job. I have his Council seat. And I need your help.”

Well, that’s certainly an interesting development. If he’s not here to entrap the Crown’s leader on legal charges real or invented… Immediately Astra relays what he’d said to her partner, and then motions for him to continue. 

“My name is Teshin Dax,” the false headmaster states. “I was put into this position by an organization which seeks to destroy Shade and devastate much of Vacuo. I wish to defect, but I do not trust the Council to protect me. I’ve seen firsthand how incompetent they are, in my previous work for this group. But the Crown… I’ve heard you have the strength to stand up to anyone, along with the wit and will to use it.”

“You want us to protect you?” Astra raises one eyebrow. “You’ll have to tell us more about who’s coming after you, before I decide if it’s worth it. You say they want to destroy Shade and Vacuo? Why? And you really believe they have the power to?”

“They do,” Teshin warns. “She does. Twenty years ago she came this close to splitting the city of Atlas in half. She–”

“Who is… she?” Astra interrupts him. It’s important information, more so than just a list of terrible accomplishments. Teshin had better know some details and prove he’s telling the truth. 

“The Grimm have a master. A human. She creates them, she controls them, for all intents and purposes she is a Grimm but with terrifying intelligence and ages of experience. I was a fool for letting myself be taken in by her, and I want out before all of Remnant is destroyed. But if I cut contact, she will send her people after me.”

“If she’s really all that, I’m inclined to stay out of her way,” Astra comments. “Why shouldn’t I just let her have you?”

Teshin startles, somehow not expecting that perfectly reasonable response. As Astra mentally relays the latest news to Ozma, who can write down notes as she keeps watch, Teshin splutters out a protest. “What? She – If you knew what she’s like–” He takes a breath to calm himself. “If your organization protects me from hers, you will have all the resources of Shade at your disposal.”

“Tempting. A Council seat is a valuable thing, and I’m sure you could refer your best students my way when they graduate… but you say you’ll be pursued by a world-ending force. Now, I could go with my gut feeling that you’re exaggerating, because to be honest that story doesn’t make much sense, but on the chance it’s real…”

“It is,” Teshin interrupts. He paces nervously around the courtyard, prompting an annoyed comment from Ozma about the erratically moving target. “Listen. Someone in your position might have heard things. Rumors, maybe even an eyewitness account. You might have heard that…” He glances all around once again, peering out every exit in turn. “That magic is real.”

Now he has Astra’s attention. “Magic?” She steps closer and takes Teshin by the shoulders to stare intently into his eyes. “I’ve heard from a reliable source that magic exists, but decades of searching hasn’t turned up anything more than fairy tales. What do you know?”

Teshin tries to pull away, but Astra has a vice grip on his arms. “It’s real,” he repeats. “My current master can use it. She’s one of six people who can. There’s her, there’s Headmaster Ozpin at Beacon Academy… and there’s the four Maidens, corresponding to the seasons. Those I expect are who you’ve heard of from fairy tales.”

Astra lets him go, a smile spreading over her face. “Four women,” she breathes, “who fly, control the weather, throw fire and lightning without dust…” She finds herself nodding along with the memory of Roviik’s tales. 

“Exactly. Always four. Kill one, and if you’re eligible, you become the next. If not, it’s a random person somewhere on Remnant.”

Astra sends an excited comment to her partner. “He knows about magic! Four Seasons story is true, plus two extras.”

“Holy fuck,” Ozma responds. “We need to keep this guy around. He won’t tell you everything he knows just tonight.”

“And that’s just the tip of the iceberg,” Teshin continues, unaware of her mental correspondence. “There are six people with magic, and also four objects called the Relics. They’re locked away, and my master has been trying to take them. It’s with them that she could destroy even more than the Grimm already do.”

“Which you’re suddenly having a crisis of conscience about,” Astra interrupts with a dismissive wave of one hand. “Yes, yes. You can tell me more about it all at your leisure. Right now, though, tell me about this master of yours personally. Does she have a name? What’s the strength of her forces? What exactly are my people going to have to fight to keep you alive?”

Teshin looks down. “Her name,” he says in a low voice, “is Salem. She is referred to as Her Grace. She has few servants but they are strong, and every one is a master of getting out after a job without being captured. You won’t meet Her Grace personally. She stays back, out of the field… perfectly safe. I don’t know if it’s the magic or her semblance or what, but somehow… she is immortal.”

Astra only smirks. “What a coincidence. So am I.” She spreads her arms wide in a smug display. “I’m sixty-six years old and don’t look a day over twenty -six.”

“Her Grace is… well, nobody knows her age exactly, but I’d be willing to bet it’s in the thousands. She’s watched empires rise and fall – and more often than not, she’s the one who makes them fall. Don’t underestimate her.”

“But you said her team’s numbers are few,” Astra tries to look on the bright side. “I can work with that. Welcome to the Crown, Mr. not-Berzins. Is there anything else you can tell me about magic? How to gain it myself, so I can match this Salem’s powers? It would be in your interest to make sure I have the ability to protect you effectively. What about those Relics you mentioned?”

“Don’t feel up to fighting a Maiden?” Teshin lets out a dry laugh. “Afraid you’ll need one anyway to get through the magical locks. But if you can recruit one, take her to Shade. There’s a Relic right here beneath our feet, and others at the other three Academies. The real Headmaster Berzins had a key to the vault, somewhere. Probably some random object in his office, I’ll find it eventually.”

“Hmmm.” Astra turns to look up at the ziggurat silhouetted against the evening sky. Ozma is up there somewhere, perhaps directly on top of this magical artifact. “Well, I suppose we can talk more later, now that we’re on the same page. Get me everything you know about Salem’s current agents in writing, and I’ll make sure none of them get near you.”

“Of course. Thank you, Ms… I don’t believe I caught your name.”

“No, you didn’t.” Astra smiles. “You can call me Your Eminence. Also, the next time we meet, I may look different. It wouldn’t do to step outside without a disguise, I’m sure you understand. You’re wearing one yourself, after all.”

With their business concluded at least for tonight, Astra turns to leave. Hopefully this Teshin will get her the information she needs soon – and more about magic as well. He is worth protecting, for his vote even after his knowledge runs out. The question is, how much effort will it cost the Crown to make sure he stays safe?

“We’ve got a deal,” she thinks to Ozma. “One of us should drop in at his office in a day or two. He’s supposed to have a report for us on who exactly will be coming to kill him.”

“Good call. We’ll need to know. He’s okay with giving us his Council vote?”

Astra pauses sharply in the path. “Didn’t come up directly,” she sends apologetically. “But I’m pretty sure he got the idea. He knows he’s trading one master for another.”

“Idiot. With career moves like that, he will end up getting killed sooner or later. Let’s make sure we get what we need from him first.”

“Yeah… You know, with our first Council seat landing in our laps for free like this, it might be time to seek out a few more. A majority is three. General Tuvul’s been around for ages, I’m sure he’s got secrets to exploit. Councilman Nellinu as well, maybe. Hell, we could even run for a seat ourselves, why not?”

There’s a laugh from Ozma over the mental connection, until she stops suddenly. “Wait, you’re serious? You want to publicly campaign and get elected?”

“Well… I was kind of thinking you would be the one taking the job. I’ve got to stay free as a spy, after all. Can’t have a Councilwoman shapeshifting, people might think she’s up to something.”

“…Why do you have to make so much sense all the time?” Ozma sends a telepathic sigh. “Whatever, next election’s not for three years. Maybe we can blackmail two of them into compliance before that point.”

“Or maybe we won’t.” Astra grins, even where her partner can’t see. “I’m sure it will grow on you, after a little while.”

Sixty years since she and Ozma had received their huntress licenses, and begun a long and profitable career defending humanity from the creatures of destruction. Sixty years since they’d gotten the tools to pursue the mystery that had gnawed at their father’s mind for so long. 

Forty-five years since an old friend of Ozma’s father had stumbled into them, and tried to recruit them to help build a successor to the kingdom and regime they’d been taught to hate all their lives. Forty-five years since he’d tried to divide them from each other, and the attempt had backfired as Ozma kissed her for the first time. 

Thirty years since an accident had taught her the true extent of her own power, and enabled them both to seek eternal youth. Thirty years since she and Ozma had left their original bodies and identities behind, and with them their oath to put the good of Remnant before themselves. 

Fifteen years since the Crown had attracted a valuable new member, and their ambitions of controlling the Council had finally begun to bear fruit. Fifteen years since she and Ozma learned the truth of that mystery they’d pursued for decades, and far more than they’d ever expected. 

And now, Astra is stumbling blindly through darkened tunnels, alone in body if not in mind, attempting to make her way out of the half-collapsed ruins of Rathuum with only the light of her scroll to guide her steps. How undignified for the Queen of Vacuo. And yet how utterly normal for the secret Queen who handles all the pair’s hands-on activities, with hands that are never her own. 

“It’s always something, isn’t it?” Astra silently complains to her partner, safely outside the mine. “Every time we get close, something blows up in our faces. I just wish this one wasn’t so literal.”

“You okay in there?” Ozma sends back, with a tangible sense of concern projected into her mind alongside the words. 

“I’m not hurt, but there’s been a cave-in. The path out I was going to take is blocked. And worse, I still look like Kela de Thaym.” Astra kicks at a rock in disgust, and turns back from the brand-new dead end. “Look up a map of this place. It won’t be accurate anymore, but it’s better than nothing if I’ve got to find an alternate exit.”

“On it. Want me to text it to you?”

“It won’t get through, down here. We’ll have to swap back and forth. I look at the map on that end, then come back to this body to move around.”

Ozma sends her approval, and moments later Astra is wrenched out of her current body and into the more familiar form that she spends most of her non-mission time in. She takes a moment to appreciate the late afternoon sunlight streaming in through the windows, then looks at the scroll in her hand. 

The central chamber of the mine is easily seen, of course. She’s not quite sure which of the many paths out she took, except that it was on the second level up and had a fork off to the right within the first hundred feet. That narrows down the possibilities significantly. To only two, actually. Following that fork path since the main route is blocked…

Well, either her new tunnel will come to a four-way junction soon or it won’t. Time to switch back in there and keep walking. Astra takes one last, longing look at the sun outside, and messages Ozma to swap their bodies once again. 

“Kela’s going to be pissed,” Ozma remarks. “I went back to the center while you were looking at the map, and I’m not sure there’s any salvaging that arena.”

“Probably not,” Astra admits. “And it was Kela and me throwing bombs, not our enemies, but you know she won’t care. I should have anticipated we might hit an unmined dust vein.”

She takes the one path that’s not currently blocked by a mound of fallen rock, and follows it to where another tunnel crosses through it. “Let me see the map again,” she sends. Once in the pair’s other body – they’d long since lost track of which was which, originally – Astra locates her position on the map and traces over each of her options in turn. “Alright, I think I’ve got a way out. Send me back.”

Straight ahead for now. Then the first left, straight through the next junction, and – another pile of broken rock blocking the way. It’s slow going enough given the dim light and frequent obstacles in her path, and even slower to backtrack to the last spot she saw a side path. 

“This is just a disaster all around,” she complains. “All this trouble, and both of the Maidens escaped. And we’ve lost Rathuum, and a lot of our cannon fodder with it. I just hope Regor can figure out what he needs from the test subjects he has, because he won’t be getting any new ones for a while.”

“It’s disappointing, yes… but this is not a failure.”

Astra stops short in the tunnel. “What do you mean, it’s not a failure? Look at it!”

“You got that girl Emerald, and she’s already with Regor now. That’s more than nothing.” Ozma does her best to project a pure feeling of comfort and warmth through their connection. “It’s not as big a success as we had hoped, but it is still some success. We can rebuild the rest.”

Before Astra can protest further, she continues. “Remember, we’re immortal. We have unlimited time and unlimited second chances. The four Maidens will always be around too, even if we have to let these two and all their friends die of old age. We just have to be patient.”

“True,” Astra admits, as she rounds another corner into a tunnel less full of scattered debris than the last. “We have all the time in the world. It’s just so… annoying, having to put in all the effort for not much reward.”

“This is only a failure for Kela and the rest of those mortals. We can afford any losses for the tiniest bit of progress, because we always have the time to rebuild.” Ozma swaps places with her wife once more to give her another look at the map. “Remember what Teshin told us about Her Grace? That she’s been at this for thousands of years? We’re not even a hundred years old yet, and the Crown is barely thirty. We can afford to take it slow.”

“Even if that means pursuing magic has to go on the back burner for a while.” Astra’s thought-voice is still audibly disappointed, but she accepts that this may just be how it has to be. “Honestly, we probably should hit pause on that anyway, and focus on being Queen.”

Far away, Ozma gazes around the opulent bedroom of their palace. Several wings are still under construction, but it won’t be more than another six or eight months before it’s all complete. That will be the transition period as the kingdom adjusts, and by the time it’s finished, they’ll make sure Vacuo adores its new Queen – maybe even both of them, if they decide to go public about Astra’s existence. 

“Sounds good to me. We take any opportunity that drops into our lap, but mainly we focus on getting this place how we want it. We’ll need Vacuo well under control before we move on Vale.”

Astra doesn’t respond for a short time as she concentrates on navigating a particularly narrow, twisting passage without tripping over a stray rock and making her bad day one more step worse. “I want my Fomorian already,” she finally sends. “Conquering Vale is something we do have a time limit on.”

“Vale isn’t restoring their CCT any time soon. Last month’s report said that dragon is still there. Without global communications, they’ll never see us coming. Once the Fomorian is there, we can order them to surrender without a single shot.”

“Though we might have to take a few anyway, just to prove our point.” A smile flickers across Astra’s face. “I can’t wait. And meanwhile, we’ve got all the power we could want here at home. Let’s put it to use. Make people happy, gain their trust… force is all well and good, but we don’t want to have to split the military in half when the time comes.”

“Of course,” Ozma agrees. It’s tempting to declare martial law and consolidate power in a swift and bloody purge, but that will only lead to more problems down the line. Besides, effective or not, that’s not the style of leadership she and Astra want. “I’ve got some ideas for a briefing tomorrow. We can go over them when you get home.”

“Well, then, you’d better send an airship out to pick me up,” Astra replies with a mental smirk. “Because I can see the exit from here.”

“Actually, you know what, how about you send an airship for me?” Ozma pulls up a note on her scroll and leaves it open on her lap, then engages her semblance once more. 

In an instant, Astra is back in the comfort of her home and her preferred body, while Ozma steps out of a tunnel’s mouth into the cool evening air. Vacuo’s wall stands silhouetted in the distance as the sun drops behind it. A majestic sight, to be sure. Her kingdom – their kingdom – finally on track to become all they had ever dreamed it could be.

Chapter Text

Her name is Ruby Rose, and her mother is dead. Her mother died twelve years ago, on a mission she never learned the details of but which must have been for Ozbot—Ozpin, then. Summer Rose is dead, and while Ruby can’t recall where she had died, Vacuo sounds right. 

But Summer Rose could have died five minutes away from home, for all it matters. She died. She’s dead. If she wasn’t, she would have come back. She wouldn’t have abandoned her family, wouldn’t have left her daughters and her husband without a word.

Which means this… this impostor, this woman claiming to be her, is not Ruby’s mother. Her own silver eyes narrow, and she glares at the impostor who dares to ruin what few memories of her mom she has left.

“We know that the Grineer have a shapeshifter,” Ruby spits. “If you want to get to me, you’ll have to do better than that. My mother has been dead for twelve years.”

“I…” The impostor bows her head. “Of course you wouldn’t believe it’s me.”

“The Grineer have a shapeshifter?” Xuri asks, and Ruby had forgotten about her. Assuming this even is the real Xuri, and not just another impostor.

“Why just one? Why not have two, or even more? Of course you’re not the real Maiden either.”

Xuri stands fast, a hand already going to her sword. “Wanna bet?”

“Xuri,” says the impostor sharply, but she’s ignored. She sighs, and slips her glasses back on, and retreats to the chair she’d been sitting in formerly.

“Be my guest. I don’t know what color flames Summer has,” Ruby gestures to her eyes, tracing her fingers out in a way that mimics the distinctive eye-flames of a Maiden, “but I’ve met the other three, and you’re not them. Go on. I’m waiting.”

The zebra faunus takes a deep breath. Outside the window Ruby is only just now noticing, the wind picks up. As she watches, a tumbleweed… well, tumbles down the road. The Vacuan flag visible in the distance begins to flap, first slowly, and then wildly.

That is a pretty impressive windstorm, Ruby has to admit. Could still be by chance, though, and when Ruby looks back, what she sees only proves it. Xuri’s arms are extended—but her eyes are closed.

“Oh no you don’t,” Ruby says, and Xuri’s eyes startle open. No flames, but the wind outside abruptly ceases as well. “Eyes open, please.”

“Uh… what?” Xuri blinks, seemingly confused. “Why?”

“My team has seen someone pretending to be a Maiden before. If that’s seriously the best you can do—”

“No! No, it’s not, just… give me a second.” The ‘Maiden’ looks slightly frantically at the impostor, who doesn’t respond from where she has her head buried in her hands. “It’s easier with my eyes closed, okay? Then I don’t have to think as hard about how people are… watching…”

“Uh-huh,” Ruby says skeptically.

Xuri extends her arms again, taking a deep breath—and stops. She sits back down, hugs herself, and asks, slightly desperately, “Is there anything else I can do to prove that I’m the Summer Maiden besides that? I don’t… I can’t…”

Okay, well now Ruby feels bad. For a person who is on friendly terms with someone impersonating her dead mother, so she really shouldn’t feel bad for her. But she says, “I’ll… think of something. Maybe… oh! Uh… okay, if you actually are the Summer Maiden, I am really sorry about this.”

But Ruby really doubts Xuri is actually Summer now, now that she’s been given a reason to. If she’s not Summer, this won’t hurt her at all, but it’ll blind both her and the impostor and give Ruby some time to run like hell. Find Crescent Rose if she can, or if not just book it and get away from her kidnappers.

One thing is for certain, though. These shapeshifters… who knows how many people they’ve hurt, long before Ruby even arrived in Vacuo? Only they would, and only they know the full weight of their sins—but it has to be a lot.

She won’t let them hurt anyone else. And it’s with that thought that her vision goes white, bathing the room in purifying light. She can’t maintain it for long. Her hand and her tattoo are already stinging. But she can maintain it for a little longer, just a little longer…

Someone screams, and Ruby’s vision clears. It’s not Ruby who screamed. She might have if she’d kept up the light any longer, but as it is she only leans back against the couch, blinking black spots away from her vision and rubbing at her burning right hand.

There is a Maiden in this room.

But it’s not Xuri who screamed, either. It’s Xuri who screams now, a terrified cry of “Mom!” as she rushes to the impostor’s side, the impostor who is now slumped over the table. The impostor who… Ruby can’t accept that she might actually be her mom, but either this is another Cinder part-Grimm situation or…

She’s the real Maiden.

“Ow.” The Maiden pushes herself up, shakily, with a groan. “Okay, I should have seen that one coming. Didn’t realize you knew how to… I’m fine, Xuri, I swear, I’m—”

“Do not try to get up,” Xuri orders. Then, to Ruby, “How could you?”

The spot between her shoulderblades is still stinging.

“I…” Ruby exhales, and blinks hard. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would work, I genuinely didn’t think you were the Maiden. Either of you.”

The actual Maiden—Eve, she’d said her name was? Better that than the name Ruby can’t use for her—laughs hollowly. “Well, you weren’t wrong on that strategy. But I’m surprised you knew it works on Maidens as well as Grimm. I don’t know why, but it does. But you thought it would still activate even without a Maiden in the room?”

“Uh,” Ruby freezes. “Honestly, no?”

Caught perhaps slightly off-guard, Ruby’s lie is nowhere near as effective as it could be. But Eve must be out of it enough that she doesn’t notice.

Ruby still feels terrible, now. She carries a little bit of Grimm with her everywhere, but she hadn’t expected anyone else here to be vulnerable besides herself. 

“You could have told me you were the Maiden,” Ruby points out.

“And risked you telling the Grineer?” Xuri replies.

“She means…” Wearily, Eve takes off her glasses. Silver eyes blink once, twice, and then green fire flares to life from each of them. “She means after I knew she wasn’t Grineer. Though I’m not sure she would have believed that either.”

“You’d be right. Three, four years ago…” Ruby sighs. “That long ago, I might have. That long ago, I might have believed you were really…”

“I know.” The fire winks out, and Eve puts her glasses— rose-colored, Ruby realizes now—back on. “Ruby, I’m… I’m so sorry. I know I have a lot of explaining to do, even before you’ll be willing to accept it’s me. But…”

“Mom,” comes the warning from Xuri too late, but Eve stands nonetheless, leaning first on the chair and then on her weapon for support. She sways on her feet slightly, but remains standing.

“I have something I think should help,” Eve finishes. She limps into the next room, and returns with… a framed photo? “Ruby. You came here with Qrow, right? Well…” Seemingly at a loss for words, she merely holds out the photo for Ruby to see. 

“Team STRQ…” Ruby meets the Maiden’s eyes. “Mom and dad and Raven and Uncle Qrow. There’s a copy of this same photo over the fireplace at home. Right next to one of my team.”

Is it possible? Ruby’s eyes tingle with the threat of tears as Eve pulls up the hood of her cloak and turns to match the pose in the photo. It’s a perfect likeness, and the photo is identical to the one she knows… but Mom died. Years ago. 

“We’ve got a while still before Nora and Julie are back, hopefully with Jade,” Eve says. “Ruby… what do you say to helping Xuri and I with something I know you’ll remember?” She starts toward the bulletin board on the other side of the room, walking more steadily now that she’s had some time to recover, then recalls she still has a picture frame in her hand. 

“I’ll get it,” Xuri says, and unpins the scrap of paper with the picture of cookies on it. Chocolate chip, and what had looked like a newspaper clipping from across the room is in retrospect a handwritten recipe.

“…alright,” Ruby says. “That photo seems hard to fake, so if your cookies are as good as I remember— wait. The cookies when we first got to Vacuo. That was you.”

“I hope they were good?”

“Nora ate most of them, but yes! They really were.” Ruby remembers, then, that she’s not entirely sure if this is real. The grin she’d adopted is wiped off her face. “I’ll decide after these cookies. I’ll help. If you want.”

“So will I,” Xuri says.

Eve—Summer? Mom? —smiles softly. “All we need now is Yang, and we’d have all of my daughters together at last.”

Ruby opens her mouth to tell her that Yang is also in Vacuo, but before the words can come out, that—coupled with something she’d said earlier—hits her at full force. “Wait, Xuri’s…”

“I did say you were her sister. I’d hope that goes both ways.”

“Uh,” Xuri waves. “Hi, sis?”

“Hi,” Ruby waves back. “Um…” She isn’t quite ready to call her Mom again. Not yet. So she settles for just looking at her and saying, “Are you okay to get to the kitchen… wait, where is the kitchen?”

“I’ll be fine.” Eve’s smile turns slightly pained. “It takes a bit longer in the light than that to do any real damage.”

Standing in front of several cameras that are not yet live, Queen Ozma appears the very picture of confidence. Her deep red dress, a color that calls to mind kuva—not that the vast majority of viewers will have any idea what that is—shimmers in the bright Vacuan sunlight. The dress itself appears draped about her body in a manner almost decrying a long scarf spiraling around her torso, exposing perhaps more skin than would be wise if aura did not exist, and if she did not know from her beloved’s observations that their greatest adversaries at the moment are opposed to dishonorable methods of dealing with problems, like outright assassination.

Fortunately, Ozma has no qualms when it comes to such matters. So here she is, her and Astra’s notes ready on her podium, at her third official press conference as the ruler of Vacuo and first with serious business to address. This broadcast is primarily meant to concern their plans for making Vacuo genuinely better (and raising public opinion of the Queen in the process), along with some rather important other issues in between. Such as dealing once and for all with those irritating huntresses and friends who are just so short-sighted.

Ready? asks Astra, from—unless she’s moved—a bar two miles down the road. There is no better way to gauge how the public are reacting, after all, than to have someone among them in disguise. Astra can communicate how one announcement or another has gone over nearly instantly, and Ozma can adjust her speech as necessary.

She doubts she’ll have to adjust it very much, of course. Vacuo is their home. They know how the people here think. At eighty-one years old, she and Astra have lived here longer than most—the life expectancy in Vacuo is, perhaps, not the highest compared to the other kingdoms. But they can work on that.

They’ll both still be here after everyone else alive today is long gone. Or… nearly everyone alive today, but at the moment Salem is no issue. Ozpin, on the other hand—and his lackeys—they very much are an issue. 

It is with this in mind that Ozma smiles, clears her throat, and signals to the camera operator. 

“Citizens of Vacuo,” she begins, “Today marks one month since my coronation as Queen of our beloved kingdom, and on this occasion I would like to thank each and every one of you for contributing to a peaceful and safe transfer of power. There has not been a Grimm attack on our capitol since that first night, and none can take blame for mere surprise. In particular, let us take a moment to appreciate former Councilwoman Avantus, who despite an early career opposing me, later supported my rule and has spoken publicly about the need to remain unified through times of political upheaval.”

“Thanks for the shoutout,” Astra whispers in her mind. “I’m sure the real Avantus would appreciate it if she could hear. By which I mean she’d try to shoot you.”

“For we are, after all, the same Vacuo we have always been. We are a proud kingdom, and rightly so. Unbowed by any force foreign or domestic, even through the Great War eight decades past. We are a kingdom of survivors. But–” Ozma pivots toward the first topic on her list. “There is more to life than mere survival. My advisors and I have been working on a full budget to be released soon, but I can say now that the coming year will see a fifty percent increase in funding for education and the arts.”

“That got a reaction. Confused, but positive. Also, the two adults from Ozpin’s team just walked in.”

“Vacuo will also embark on a mission to restore our aging infrastructure, before it starts falling apart around us. Much of this kingdom was built three centuries ago – and it was built to last, but still our great wall shows its wear. Let us learn from the failures of Mantle, and be proactive about the safety of ourselves and our neighbors. In addition, our water pumping and distribution system could use some repairs – and we will have them.”

“However, much as it pains me, we are not without setbacks even before our work has begun. As trade between kingdoms still falters in the absence of the global CCT, I instructed a team of experts to assess some of the surrounding mines for any leftover dust we might feasibly extract to power our efforts. What they stumbled upon there can only be described as a plot of terror against our kingdom: a group using the mines as cover while they built improvised explosive devices meant for targets unknown.”

Getting some unease here,” Astra reports in. “And Qrow’s pissed at that lie. Better make sure the public knows it’s all okay.”

“Rest assured that there is no present danger.” Ozma decides to lead with that, just in case. “The devices were dealt with on site and have all been accounted for. However, I am issuing a kingdomwide arrest warrant for the following individuals.” She gestures to the cameraman again and he pushes a button to swap the feed over to a static image: the names and faces of eight young huntsmen and huntresses, pulled from the contacts of the real Lie Ren’s scroll. 

Astra had been pretty sure there were more of them than that, and she’d mentioned some weird situation with the one named Pyrrha Nikos, but this is close enough. There’s also the Summer Maiden’s whole team, of course, but she can’t just arrest them. They’d flee the kingdom. She needs to keep that group just unbothered enough to stick around where she’ll have more chances to go after them. Besides, it’s a lot easier to pin trumped-up charges on outsiders than on people who have lived and worked in Vacuo for years.