Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Remnant. The world of monsters, human and materialized alike.

There once was a time where everything was perfect, when leaving the house wasn’t terrifying, when everything made sense, when everyone could just… be. They could be safe, they could be in love, they could have their dream jobs, they could do anything and everything they’ve ever wanted.

Now, it’s completely different. It’s… scary. Every day was a toss up between war, survival, and losses. Unfortunately, there were so many losses.

Within a large skyscraper centered in the middle of Vale, was stationed a group of people chosen to help protect the world. Before, they did it perfectly. Currently, no. They failed many, many times. They were all powerful, intelligent, and insightful people, but… so was Salem, the one who was slowly killing the world around them.

Keeping the world safe were four very specific and precious relics hidden under the four main kingdoms; Knowledge, Creation, Destruction, and Choice. Those relics were handcrafted by the Gods of Darkness and Light themselves to keep Remnant safe. They were to only be used when the world needed them the most, and reunited when the evil of the world was defeated. But the problem was, Salem knew about the relics now and was hunting them. Thus leading to the constant waking up to the possibility of the world ending.

Before this, years and years ago (ten years specifically), a group of heroes were banded together and called the Huntsmen to kill and hunt down the Grimm that Salem created and released into the public.

Grimm were massive, heartless, soulless creatures made completely out of black sludgy matter that could only be killed by a hero’s power. No ordinary person stood a chance against them.

When the world started experiencing deaths of hundreds of innocent, powerless people, a man named Professor Ozpin recruited the strongest heroes recorded. All of which were 18 years old, for the exception of one, Ruby Rose. She was deemed the leader of the elite group of heroes.

The other heroes were her older sister, Yang Xiao Long, Blake Belladonna, Weiss Schnee, Jaune Arc, Lie Ren, Nora Valkyrie, and Pyrrha Nikos. They trained with each other, went on missions together, and became extremely close friends. And they all kind of coupled up.

Jaune and Pyrrha, Ren and Nora, Ruby and Weiss, and Yang and Blake.

Eight years ago, Blake and Yang got married. Their wedding was gorgeous with purple, yellow, black, and white roses everywhere. Blake remembered her wedding day vividly, it was a perfect day.

They had it on a beach in Menagerie, Yang wore a white fitted suit with a yellow rose clipped to it, her beautiful long blonde hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back, her cute shaggy bangs covering her forehead and almost covered her lilac eyes. Her adorable dimples sticking out from how wide her white smile was, her freckled cheeks were wet from tears of joy rolling down them, how beautiful her vows were… Everything about the day was serene.

Then Jaune and Pyrrha got married, followed by Ruby and Weiss, then finally Ren and Nora. They loved their respected partners, they loved each other, they loved protecting the world together.

Then… everything changed.

The night that shifted the outcome of everything.

Ruby and Yang were in the middle of ending a Grimm raid in lower Vale, Blake and Weiss were in central Vale dealing with more Grimm, Ren and Nora were in Vacuo, Jaune and Pyrrha were in a small village miles away from southern Vale. Ozpin called over their earpieces saying that Salem found out about the relics. That she opened the vault holding the relic of Choice.

In that moment, they all watched the sky turn red, the clouds shifted to black, and all hell broke loose.

Literally and figuratively.

They fought waves and waves of Grimm until Salem’s group started attacking them too. Villains named Cinder, Emerald, Mercury, Doctor Arthur Watts, and Tyrain. Ruby sliced off Tyrain’s tail, Emerald got speared in the shoulder by Pyrrha, then Atlas’s heroes got involved. The Ace Ops showed up to Vale and tried their best to help, but a scream made everyone stop.

Cinder killed Pyrrha.

She shot her in the chest, her heart exploding within it, and she dropped dead. Jaune, who was completely filled with rage and heartbreak, charged at Cinder and gauged her eyeball out of her head with his sword.

The moment of pure raw emotions pouring out of the psychic hero made Pyrrha rise again. Although she was no longer fully a physical human, she was half alive, half a spirit. And as everyone fretted over Pyrrha having her heart explode within her then come back to life, Ruby’s shrill scream made them stop again.

Doctor Watts used his rings to create a hole in the ground that completely consumed Yang right where she was standing.

Blake sprinted to where the hole was and dug into the dirt with her hands, screaming her wife’s name, tears streaming down her face, but she was gone. They spent hours digging and digging, but Yang’s body was never found. She was gone. Pyrrha died but was able to take half of Jaune’s Aura to live again. Yang was killed and never came back. Her body was still somewhere under the Emerald Forest in Vale.

The Huntsmen visited the spot she was killed often, more so right after she was taken from them than now. Weiss went with Ruby and Blake every week to sit next to where Yang was swallowed by the earth and grieve. Ever since then, the world only got scarier and scarier. Especially for Blake. For Ruby too, but she had Weiss to help her. Not Blake.

Blake’s entire livelihood was killed the second Yang was. She had no one to hold her, no one to make her laugh through her pain, no one to comfort her when she had a nightmare, no one to be her sunshine peeking through the darkest clouds that surrounded her.

Blake took a few months off of hero activities, she sat at their home and cried for hours every day. She’d pick up a photo of them and cry. She’d come across one of Yang’s Lego sets and cry. She’d spot a strand of golden hair left on the bathroom sink and cry. Everything made her cry. And now she was borderline emotionless.

The loss of Yang was also the loss of Blake. Her soul was sucked out of her, her personality was gone, she was a shell with a heartbeat. That’s it.

Years after the death of Yang, they were still fighting Salem and her gross posse. And they were losing.

Yang was one of their powerhouses, along with Pyrrha and Nora. She was an expert hand-to-hand combatant, she had her shotgun gauntlets on her forearms and wrists, and her power was insane. The more damage she took, the more damage she dealt. When she got angry, her damage and speed tripled. Fire would shoot out of her fists as she fought, it was incredible. The team didn’t realize how much of an effect Yang truly had on their group and how much it would hurt them without her.

Now, the group sat around their large circular table while speculating why Ozpin could have called them to their planning room. Blake sat at her dark purple chair, next to Yang’s empty yellow chair she refused to let anyone get rid of, and Pyrrha. On the other side of the yellow chair was Ruby, then Weiss, Nora, Ren, Ozpin’s chair, Jaune, and Pyrrha.

Her arms were crossed under her chest as she stared at the black table with their emerald green emblem in the center. She felt a pressure on her right arm, she glanced over to see Pyrrha offering her a soft smile.

Ever since she died and was resurrected by Jaune, her emerald eyes shifted to the same eye color as Jaune’s, dark blue. She had a streak of blonde hair in her deep red hair, the same shade of blonde as Jaune’s hair. But nothing else about her changed, she was still sweet, gentle, and warm.

Blake gave her a small grin before looking back down, the grin quickly disappeared.

The door to their large planning room opened and Ozpin walked in with his black cane next to him. He didn’t smile, he always smiled when entering the room.

The tall, lanky man stopped behind his chair, cleared his throat with his fist covering his lips, then he pointed to the center of the table. Above the black table a large hologram of central Vale showed up, it was footage dated at the bottom of the screen for the day prior.

“This was captured yesterday night at approximately 11pm.” He explained, his voice low and soft. 

The heroes watched the lifeless street with cars lining it then a figure came onto frame walking down the middle of the street. When the person got under a streetlamp, the heroes cocked a brow at them.

“Who… is that?” Jaune asked, Ozpin slowly shook his head, “I’m unsure. Someone new that follows Salem.”

They were a woman, that much was clear. A very muscular, tall, and curvy woman with thick black hair pulled back into a ponytail, over her eyes was a black cloth and over her nose, lips, chin, and jaw was a black metal mask. She wore a black sleeveless shirt, her right arm was shiny silver metal, her left arm was all muscle. Her pants were black military grade cargo pants, black boots were on her feet, and a black fingerless glove was covering her left hand.

They watched the mysterious woman stop in the center of the street. She looked at the ground while pulling something from behind her. A small discus shaped weapon was in her grasp, she kneeled down and set it on a manhole cover, then walked away.

Ozpin waved his hand in the air which made the footage speed up until it was light out, they watched a car drive over the bomb then explode. The heroes sat there with their brows completely raised at the car exploding. Ozpin paused the footage then tilted his head, “That was the vehicle of the President of Vale.”

“O-Oh my god.” Weiss quietly said, Ruby's wide silver eyes were glued to the hologram, “Ozpin… They killed the President of Vale. What do we do?”

“ Why did they target the president?” Ren asked, Ozpin nodded at him, “I wondered that same question as well, until I started looking into him and his most recent affairs. He was secretly in kahoots with Salem.”

“Oh.” Ruby said with her brows up. Ozpin pulled his chair out and sat, a drawled out sigh escaping him, “For the past few months, he was laundering a lot of money to her and her associates. They’re doing some kind of scientific experiments, but I’m unsure what they are. Either way, he apparently backed out of the deal he had with Salem and, as you saw, she had him assassinated.”

“What was their deal?” Pyrrha asked, Ozpin’s eyes went to her and his tone shifted to a lower one, “There is a fifth secret relic. Not as significant as the main four, but still powerful enough for Salem to want. It’s called the Cranium Cube. It controls memories in a person, it can alter them, delete them, or repair them. The President of Vale had access to it, Salem wanted it. He funded their research, they asked him for the Cranium Cube to use next, he declined, so they killed him.”

“Do they have the cube?” Nora asked next, Ozpin pulled in a long breath through his nose and shrugged once, “No. It is still located in the President’s house, in the vault he has under his basement. That’s why I called you here. We need to get it before Salem does.”

“Got it.” Ruby confidently commented, sitting up more in her chair as she waved her finger in the air.

The hologram changed to a street view of the center of Vale. A few blocks away from their headquarters was the mayor’s house, Ruby zoomed in on it.

The group studied the house before Ruby's voice broke through their thoughts, “We can do a group of three and a group of four. Weiss, Blake, and I will go into the house to retrieve the relic. Pyrrha, Jaune, Ren, and Nora can watch over the house’s perimeter to make sure we don’t get interrupted.”

“Sounds good.” Jaune commented, Pyrrha smiled with a nod, “Will do!”

Ozpin stood from his chair, “Do this immediately. I don’t know if Salem already had people there or not. I will be watching from above.” The heroes all stood from their chairs and acknowledged him in some way, except Blake. She followed Weiss and Ruby out of the room without a word.

At this point, everything felt more like a chore than anything. Simply breathing was becoming too difficult, it was suffocating. It felt like she was already dead- and Blake was the only one left who noticed. 

She didn't cry anymore, she couldn't. There was nothing left to mourn. The woman she loved was already gone

Chapter Text

The seven heroes made their way to the president’s house in central Vale. They passed the smoldering scar on the street where the President’s car had detonated. A bunch of officers, EMTs, and firefighters were standing around the large black smudge on the pavement trying to figure out what happened. Without being spotted, the heroes managed to sneak past them.

They had their earpieces in as they got into their positions, Pyrrha and Jaune were perched up on the highway overpass overlooking the street the house was on. Nora and Ren sat on a rooftop across the street. Blake followed Weiss and Ruby towards the vacant house.

The president’s house didn’t look like it belonged in Vale. It was too clean. Too untouched.

While the city outside wrestled with constant war, Grimm, and decay, this house stood pristine- a pale stone structure with towering blackened windows that reflected nothing but the overcast. The front yard was trimmed with vibrant green grass and perfectly trimmed bushes.

Blake’s feet slowed to a stop when passing a crooked rose bush. The petals were sickly and greyed like dried blood with lateral branches turned to black. Blake’s never seen a plant, let alone a rose bush, do that before. She looked around, examining the other nearby plants and flowers, but no other plant showed the same decay. With one last hesitant glance at the blackening rose bush, Blake forced herself forward.

Weiss and Ruby walked past a pair of cracked lion statues flanking the steps, their faces slightly eroded by weather and time, almost resembling worn skulls more than guardians.

They entered the house after Blake successfully lockpicked the door. The interior of the house was large and beautiful, but completely lifeless. It smelled… wrong. Like antiseptic over mildew, blood over dust, a sweetness clinging just too long in the air. And jasmine. Blake rubbed the side of her face as she glanced around, the weight inside her chest grew heavier.

The walls were white, but not completely clean- towards the ceilings were faint gray water stains. Old portraits hung in gilded frames, faces of past presidents and family members watching them with unseeing, glassy eyes. The furniture was expensive but abandoned. A half empty mug of coffee sat on an end table, cold and never to be touched again.

The air grew colder the further they stepped in. The lights flickered, casting brief, unnatural shadows along the walls- shadows that sometimes didn’t move when they did. The house had been built centuries ago, and in some places, it showed: old cracks ran like veins along the wall, and the floorboards groaned beneath their boots like something alive.

Blake’s golden gaze stayed locked onto the unmoving shadows as if they were beckoning her closer. Something didn't feel right. Vale's president hadn't been dead an entire day, yet the house felt extremely sinister like it was abandoned for years.

At the end of a long, narrow hallway was a heavy iron door, completely out of place against the old-world décor. No handle. No visible lock. Just a seam in the wall where the old house ended and something much newer, much colder began. Blake’s ears twitched at the lack of sound behind it. Not silence- an absence of anything at all. It wasn’t empty, it was waiting.

Weiss ran a gloved hand over the edge of the iron door, her fingers brushing something carved into the surface. Symbols, old ones. They weren’t runes for protection, or sealing, or even warning. These were marks of containment, of imprisonment.

“I don’t like this,” she murmured. Blake didn’t respond. She hadn’t spoken since they left the headquarters.

Ruby shifted anxiously behind them, “Is this… is this where they kept the Cranium Cube?”

“No,” Weiss said, her voice low, “this was built to keep something else in.”

With a strained push, the iron door groaned open, expelling a rush of cold air so heavy it felt like it clung to their skin. The smell of damp earth, rusted metal, and something much older flooded the hallway. Along with a strong scent of jasmine again. Blake’s brows curved as she straightened out her back, swallowing the lump forming in the back of her throat.

They stepped through the threshold and descended into the darkness.

It was a chamber.

The old stone walls curved down into an arched ceiling, lined with thick iron chains that hung loose like dead vines. The ground beneath them wasn’t concrete, but ancient, uneven stone slick with condensation.

A faint blue light came from somewhere deeper inside- flickering weakly, like a dying pulse. The Cranium Cube sat in the center of a crude pedestal at the far end of the room, its glassy surface catching the dim light. But none of them moved toward it yet.

There was something else here. Blake felt it. She could feel it in her chest, like hands around her ribs.

“Do you hear that?” Ruby whispered.

It wasn’t a sound, not in the way people heard things. It was a pressure. A presence that scraped against their thoughts, rattling around the back of their skulls like something trying to get in.

Weiss stepped forward cautiously, glyphs forming under her boots with each step to steady her footing. “This isn’t natural,” she muttered, “this isn’t the Cube’s doing.”

Blake’s hand went to the hilt of her weapon, her stomach turning over.

The flickering blue light shifted- and for just a second, in the corner of her vision, she saw it. A shape. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Long hair. Standing in the farthest shadows, just beyond the light. It was Yang’s silhouette, but it wasn’t Yang. It stood like her, but didn’t breathe like her. No spark, no simmering heat. Just a shadow in human shape. It radiated nothing. Not anger. Not sadness. Not life. A dead thing walking.

Blake’s throat closed up, her weapon stayed at her side. Weiss hadn’t seen it. Ruby hadn’t either. Only her.

The figure slowly faded back into the darkness, vanishing without a sound.

“Blake,” Weiss said carefully, “are you alright?” Blake’s voice cracked when she spoke, “We need to get the Cube. And get. Out.”

Neither of them argued. But somewhere behind them, in the dark, something was still watching.

Blake, Weiss, and Ruby approached the Cube. It was beautiful in an alien, wrong kind of way- a perfect glass cube no larger than a fist, its core pulsing with faint threads of light that moved like veins. But it wasn’t what caught their attention.

It was the figure behind it.

She stepped into the light as if emerging from nowhere. Tall, muscular, thick black hair tied back, a black cloth over her eyes, a jaw of black metal plating. And even though her face was hidden, Blake would’ve recognized her build in a heartbeat. It was Yang’s. Or what was left of her. Weiss’s glyph ignited at her side, Ruby’s grip tightened around Crescent Rose, but Blake just froze.

The figure raised a hand slowly, palm open, “Don’t,” she spoke.

The voice sent a chill down their spines. It was Yang’s voice, but stripped of its warmth, of its spark. It was like a dead body mimicking human speech. Monotone, hollow, and yet precise.

“I have no desire to hurt you,” she continued, “unless you force my hand.”

Ruby took a shaky step forward, her voice a whisper, “W-Who… are you?”

The figure tilted her head, “I don’t know. I am called the Void.” A pulse of dark Aura flickered around her body, Pyrrha’s eyes would’ve caught it instantly if she were there- a shroud of void-black energy clinging to her like a second skin.

“But I know you,” the figure added, her head angled toward Ruby. “A little girl with silver eyes,” she murmured, “you always come back. Even when the memories are gone.”

Blake’s heart dropped.

“You– what did you just say?” Weiss snapped, her voice hard and tight.

The figure’s head turned to Blake. And though her cloth-covered gaze couldn’t be seen, Blake felt the way she was being studied.

“You remind me of someone,” the Void said quietly. “A name I can’t find. But it’s there. Beneath all the cracks.”

A moment passed, thick and suffocating. Then she stepped forward, one slow bootfall at a time. “I will take the Cube. You can walk away.”

“Like hell you will,” Ruby growled.

The Void didn’t even flinch, “Then you’ll make me hurt you.”

In a flash, Crescent Rose slashed through the air- but the Void ducked, the black Aura briefly flaring, and in an instant, she grabbed Ruby’s wrist and twisted her around, sending her sprawling. Weiss sent a cluster of ice glyphs toward her, but the Void moved like smoke through them, the attacks breaking against the black aura.

Blake drew Gambol Shroud, “Stop!” The Void paused. Their faces pointed at each other.

“I don’t want to fight you,” Blake choked out. “I don’t either,” the Void muttered, “but you left me no other option.”

And the fight began. Weiss threw more glyphs; Ruby fired rounds; Blake lunged with her blade. The Void moved unnervingly calm, dodging, blocking, disarming. She was fighting like Yang- but colder, more mechanical, more efficient.

Then, from her hands, a thick black mass erupted, flooding the basement like a bursting pipeline. Ruby and Weiss gasped and coughed manically, Blake squinted through the darkness and caught a glimpse of the Void heading for the stairs.

The Void exited the house where the others were waiting to fight. Ren was the first to charge. He hurled his weapons, the twin blades slicing through the air, their wires still clutched tight in his grasp. 

The Void snatched both mid-flight, her grip calm. With a sharp yank, she pulled Ren off his feet, dragging him toward her like dead weight. The instant he reached striking distance, she pivoted on one heel and delivered a deadly roundhouse kick to his ribs, the force sending him crashing into a tree with a bone-jarring crack.

Nora let out a furious scream and charged, raising Magnhild high overhead. She brought the hammer down with everything she had- but the Void caught the thick handle with one hand, stopping it cold. 

For a breathless moment, they stared at each other, Nora's face paling as the realization hit. 

A pulse of thick, black Aura surged up through the weapon, coiling like smoke, and with a single flex of her arm, the Void sent a shockwave through the handle.

The blast knocked Nora off her feet, sending her crashing back against the pavement, the air punched from her lungs. 

Jaune and Pyrrha watched from the overpass.

“Come on Pyrrha!” Jaune barked, already breaking into a sprint. But when no footsteps followed, he glanced back. 

Pyrrha hadn't moved. She stood frozen, her eyes wide, locked on the Void towering over Nora's crumpled form. Her head gave a scared, uneven shake.

“N-No… I… I can’t get near her," she stammered, her voice brittle. "That... That’s pure evil .”

Jaune’s stomach twisted. His gaze dropped to the street below just in time to see the Void slam a metal fist into Ren's jaw, sending his body into the side of a parked car. 

Blake burst through the front doors, chest heaving, her boots skidding to a halt at the top of the stairs leading to the sidewalk.

The Void’s head twisted, her cloth-covered eyes locking onto Blake.

Tears streamed down Blake’s cheeks. In the fading light of the setting sun, she could see her clearly now- those shaggy bangs, the sharp cut of her jaw, the thickness of her hair, the height, the curves, the stance.

There was no doubt in her mind; it was Yang.

Some kind of… sick, fucked up version of her. Twisted. Hollowed. Warped into something sinister, but unmistakably her.

Blake’s entire body felt like it was sinking into the earth. Her lips moved but no sound escaped.

The Void turned to fully face her, the Cranium Cube in her left hand still pulsating gently.

Blake’s entire world stood before her again- though robbed of one of its brightest lights. That stubborn, defiant warmth Yang carried like a sun was gone, eclipsed completely by the cold, empty glow of the moon.

Nora, face down on the cracked sidewalk, groaned softly as she fought to lift herself. She managed to get her elbows beneath her chest, trembling as she looked up, her lips parted, breath rattling from her lungs.

The Void stepped closer to Blake, each heavy footfall measured and deliberate.

"In the sun's light," the Void mumbled, voice low, rasped, and eerily gently, "I can see how truly beautiful you are." 

Blake's lips quivered, her face streaked with tears, the ache in her chest a living thing. 

"You must understand," the Void continued, that same calm deadness in her voice, "I do not wish to harm any of you. A task was given to me... one I must fulfill. For the hope of redemption." 

Nora's head tipped back, her breath catching as she finally pushed herself onto her knees. Her gaze found the Void, and something cracked inside her. 

"That... that voice. It's..." The words stuck in her throat, fading to nothing. 

And where Ren lay sprawled nearby, battered and bloodied, he too stared up at the figure towering above them- recognition and horror bleeding together in his eyes. 

"You've cried for me," the Void's voice thin and deathly. "This is not the first time." 

Her unseen gaze stayed fixed on Blake. "I can feel it, the grief you wear like a second skin. The heartbreak you cling to like it's the only thing keeping you alive. And it's because of... me." 

The words struck like stones in the silence.

From behind, Ruby and Weiss barreled through the front doors, skidding to a halt diagonal to Blake. Neither spoke, their faces pale and stricken, on the edge of breaking. 

The Void ascended the last of the steps, the Cube's ghostly light casting warped shadows across her covered face. That eerie glow twisted inside its glassy surface like something alive and wrong. 

But instead of keeping it- instead of vanishing with it into the night- the Void stopped directly in front of Blake. Slowly, deliberately, she extended the Cube toward her, offering it on an outstretched palm. Solid. Certain. 

Blake stared at it like it wasn't real. Her hands trembled at her sides. 

The Void spoke again, her voice an unsettling ripple in the heavy air. "A chance," she whispered, "to fix one thing." 

A beat. A silence like a held breath. 

"I would... give it to you." A falter in the deadness of her tone, something ancient and exhausted bleeding through. "For a chance." 

Blake's voice cracked, "For... what?" 

The Void's head tipped just slightly, her covered face tilted toward Blake's, and in a voice barely audible, as though the words themselves hurt to say, she answered:

"For... forgiveness." 

Behind the Void, Jaune and Pyrrha approached cautiously, but Pyrrha kept her distance. Her grip on her spear tightened so hard her knuckles went white.

She could see it- the black Aura radiating off the Void like toxic smoke, thick and unnatural, almost sentient. It wasn't just corruption; it was alive, writhing and pulsing, trying to seep into everything around them. 

Yet beneath that darkness, faint flickers of gold shimmered intermittently. 

Pyrrha swallowed hard, voice barely more than a whisper, heavy with dread. "That's... Yang's soul. I see it. Shattered. Buried under all of... that." 

The Void's head tilted, as if hearing Pyrrha's words, but not caring enough to respond. "I don't remember what I was," the Void said quietly, her voice hollow and lifeless. 

"They erase me every night. But I always remember... a little girl with silver eyes."

Ruby's breath caught in her throat. 

"And... someone who looks like you." The Void's face stayed locked onto Blake's, "A name I can't find. But it's there. Always there." 

A heavy silence settled- a crack deep in Blake's heart. 

Her voice shook, "What... what are you talking about?"

The Void tilted her head just a fraction, like a puppet hearing an old, familiar tune. "Memories bleed through," she murmured, something dark lacing her words. "Some things... refuse to die." 

She carefully lowered the Cube into Blake's trembling hands. The black Aura around it recoiled from her touch, as if unwilling to harm her. 

"Use it," the Void husked, "or let it rot. It doesn't matter to me. But... expect me to come looking for it again." 

A growl came from behind the Void. Jaune charged at her with his sword raised high, shouting as he swung down. But the thick black Aura erupted around her, a wave of suffocating darkness that caught his blade mid-strike and hurled him backwards like a ragdoll. He landed hard on the street, groaning. 

The Void's head twisted, glancing over her shoulder at him on the ground, then her gaze found Pyrrha. 

But Pyrrha didn't move.

Her spear trembled in her grip. Not from fear of death- she could feel it. That Aura. A choking, relentless anguish so sharp and raw it made her chest ache. It wasn't hatred, or fury, or malice.

It was depression. Endless, clawing depression, alive in the air, clinging to the Void's form like a storm cloud. Drowning everything near it. 

And Blake couldn't breathe. 

The Void turned her face back to Blake, reaching out with a metal hand. She bushed Blake's tear-streaked cheek with surprising gentleness, her thumb smudging a fresh tear away.

"I will not remember this," the Void said softly, voice hollow as a grave. "But thank you." 

Than she was gone- dissolving into a dense shadow, leaving only the scent of jasmine and the weight of everything unsaid. 

She left behind heavy, smothering silence and the Cube in Blake’s clutch.

No one spoke. Weiss’s lips parted to say something, but one look at Blake’s expression stopped her. The grief was too complete, too heavy, it was like staring at someone standing in a grave.

Blake stood in the dying sunlight, the Cube cold and weightless in her hands, staring into the empty street where the Void had disappeared. The grief should have devoured her whole- but it didn’t.

Because the air still smelled like jasmine, and the shadows still felt like Yang. Not the woman she lost, but something buried beneath rot and ruin.

And the worst part wasn’t the terror. It was the hope.

Fragile, unbearable, sharp as a broken glass lodged in her chest.

Tears blurred her vision as she clutched the Cranium Cube, her lips curling into a snarl.

How did Salem get her nasty claws on her? On her wife?

Hope and agony warred in her chest with every ragged, rattling heartbeat. And in that moment, Blake made a silent promise: She would tear the world apart to bring Yang home.

Chapter Text

“One more time, Pyrrha,” Ozpin muttered, his voice low against the knuckle of his hand.

Pyrrha closed her eyes. The image playing across the shimmering hologram rewound in a blur of cold light. Being half-spirit, she had the ability to manipulate electrical currents and devices, and even project her memories onto them. Holograms, TVs- anything with a screen.

Now, the group of exhausted, battle-worn heroes sat in grim silence around the planning table, watching through her eyes the memory of the Void.

From Pyrrha’s perspective, she saw what no one else could. A sickening, thick black mass that moved around the Void’s body like living oil. It weaved through her limbs, surged beneath her skin, and coiled around her chest- always anchored by a tendril piercing into the left side of her heart.

They watched again as the Void kicked Ren against the tree. Nora’s face as she spoke to her. The way she gently touched Blake and how the black mass recoiled from it.

Pyrrha shook her head, her throat tight. “It was… vile,” she managed. “I’ve never felt an Aura that negative before. It wasn’t just dark- it was evil . Like the purest form of sorrow turned rancid.”

Ozpin sat with his elbows propped on the table, fingers laced together, the tips pressed against his lips. His sharp gaze peered above the rim of his glasses at the frozen hologram image: the Void standing motionless in the street, the thick black tendril stabbed into her chest like a feeding root.

“What do you think that is, Ozpin?” Weiss asked quietly, her voice unsteady. “I mean… I’ve never seen anything like that.”

Ozpin’s expression didn’t change. “Neither have I,” he admitted, and for a moment his voice carried the weight of his centuries. “And that’s what terrifies me. Whatever that is… we need to figure it out. If she’s capable of blacking out a room, becoming a shadow, blocking our weapons with Aura, and moving like that - we’re out of our depth. And we could quickly lose this battle.”

“She… sounded like Yang,” Nora said quietly. She wasn’t looking at anyone. Her eyes were glassy, fixed on some far-off point beyond the room. “It was her voice. Just… empty. Like someone sucked all the life out and left nothing but the sadness.”

“Interesting,” Ozpin murmured.

He turned his attention to Blake. She hadn’t looked away from the projection once. Her brows were pinched, golden eyes glued to the ghostly image. “What does Yang’s wife think?” he asked softly.

Blake’s head moved in the faintest of shakes, her voice a breath. “It’s Yang,” she whispered.

Pyrrha’s head slowly bobbed, her eyes locked onto Blake’s expression.

“I…” Blake’s voice cracked, she attempted to clear her throat while straightening her back. “Somehow… Salem got her hands on her. It's just… none of it makes any sense.”

A beat passed as Blake stared up at the hologram.

“Her build, her voice, her hair, even the way she moved… It was identical to Yang. Except… her hair’s black. And her right arm’s metal. And she spoke like someone else entirely.”

“Yeah… but that doesn’t mean Salem didn’t turn her into that.” Ruby quietly spoke.

“She said she always remembers a little girl with silver eyes,” Weiss added, her voice careful. “And someone who looks like Blake.”

That hung in the air like a storm cloud about to burst.

Ozpin rose to his feet and started pacing, circling the table like a predator in a cage. “Watts collapsed the ground beneath her,” he muttered. “We all assumed it was a fall. Who’s to say it wasn’t a portal? We never recovered a body.”

“She kicks like Yang,” Ren grumbled from his chair, an ice pack pressed to his temple.

Ozpin stopped pacing. “And Yang always struggled with depression,” he murmured, more a statement than a question.

“Yeah,” Ruby exhaled, her voice breaking a little. “She… she always did. But she hid it better than anyone I’ve ever met.”

Ozpin’s frown deepened. “If my theory’s right… if that mass is the physical manifestation of her depression, and Salem and Watts have twisted it into a leash, using her like a puppet, then we’re facing a kind of darkness we’ve never encountered.”

Pyrrha looked down at her trembling hands. “She’s… still in there. I saw her golden soul hiding beneath the darkness. I just… I just can’t believe it to be her though.” Pyrrha sniffed, her head shaking slightly. “Yang’s Aura and soul were always warm. Bright. She was a fire you wanted to be near. This… this is something else. That thing was ice. It was wicked…”

A tight, raw breath slipped through Blake’s nose as she looked away. Weiss noticed it.

“Blake,” she said gently. “I know how brutal this is for you. But until we have the full picture… we have to treat the Void as a new enemy. As hard as it is.”

Blake gave a brittle nod and pushed to her feet. “Yeah,” she rasped, her voice frayed and low. “I just… I need a minute.”

None of them stopped her as she turned and slipped out the doors.

Blake didn’t stop moving until the conference room doors were a distant memory behind her.

The double glass doors of the balcony loomed ahead, the city of Vale stretched endlessly beyond them, bathed in the dull glow of a setting sun. She pushed them open without thinking.

The moment the cool air hit her, it felt like pressure slipped from her lungs- only to be replaced by something heavier. The balcony sat high above the war-worn city. From here, she could see crumbling buildings, flickering lights, streets lined with smoke and ruin. But Blake wasn’t looking at any of it.

Her hands gripped the iron railing tight enough to whiten her knuckles, and her gaze locked somewhere far beyond the horizon, where the world bled into cloud cover. Her mind wouldn’t stop replaying it.

The way the Void’s voice sounded.

The way her hair moved.

The slope of her shoulders.

The way her hand trembled just a fraction before touching Blake’s cheek.

A fresh wave of grief hit like a sucker punch to the chest.

Blake lowered her head, her golden eyes catching the glint of something familiar. Her hands, still clenching the railing, wore her rings- the onyx bands dark as night against her pale skin. Her engagement ring’s diamond shimmered faintly, surrounded by a halo of amethysts. And the wedding band… two thin lines of melted stone: one amethyst, one yellow sapphire. Fire and shadow, forever twined.

Her breath stuttered. The memory of slipping those rings onto each other’s fingers- Yang’s crooked grin, the way her voice cracked when she said ‘I do’ - felt like a jagged blade.

Blake’s fingers rubbed the bands, a reflex she’d done a thousand times without thinking. But this time, it made her throat close up.

The second she lost Yang, she lost herself.

Not just a partner. Not just a teammate. Not just a best friend. Yang was her anchor. Her sun. The person who could burn away every bad thing if she smiled at her just right.

And now… now there was nothing but that voice, hollow and broken, twisted by something ancient and cruel. And Blake hadn’t realized until she heard it just how badly she needed to hear it again.

She squeezed her eyes shut as tears burned down her cheeks.

Blake remembered how Yang struggled. How some days she wouldn’t leave bed, and Blake would simply climb in next to her, hold her close, and wait. How some days there were no words, only the shared, aching silence. How some nights, Yang would stare at the ceiling for hours, lost in wars no one else could see.

She’d made it her mission to learn Yang’s sadness. To map it, to brace for it, to hold her through the worst of it.

She’d marked her calendar with the anniversaries of every loss, every wound. She’d built armor for them both. She thought she was ready for anything. But not this. Not this .

Blake’s body trembled as she slumped forward, forearms pressing against the railing, forehead against her arms. A choked sod slipped free. It hurt more than it had in years. Because now… there was hope. And hope was so much worse.

If the Void was Yang- if somewhere under all that black, suffocating grief there was still the heartbeat that she loved- then Blake would tear down every wall, burn every stronghold, and destroy every last monster in this cursed world to get her. To bring her home.

Even if Yang hated her for it. Even if she was unrecognizable when she did.

Blake sniffed sharply, one trembling hand dragging down her face. She wasn’t strong enough to survive losing her again. But she sure as hell was stubborn enough to fight her.

Blake didn’t know how long she stood there, leaning into the cold metal railing, the scent of jasmine still clinging stubbornly to the air. The city below stretched out in flickering lights and dying sun. The last smear of orange was sinking behind the mountains when she heard the soft click of the balcony doors.

She didn’t turn. The warm presence nearing her was recognizable that she didn't need to turn to know who it was; Ruby. 

“Sunflowers still look good,” her voice muttered behind her.

Blake’s throat tightened. She blinked hard, but the tears spilled anyway.

She could see them out of the corner of her eye- those damned sunflowers arranged carefully in the vase beside the weathered old chair. The one Yang always claimed as hers. No one sat in it now. It was an unspoken rule amongst them; don't sit in Yang's chair. 

Blake hastily swiped at her face, trying to pull herself together.

“Don’t,” Ruby said quietly.

Her footsteps padded closer, stopping next to her. “Please don’t hide your emotions from me. I’m… kind of sick of everyone doing that. Acting like I’ll shatter if they’re honest. I’m not made of glass.”

Blake’s jaw clenched, her gaze fixed out over the horizon, “I wasn’t-”

“You were.” Ruby gave a humorless little huff of a laugh. “It’s okay. I get it. But you don’t have to.”

A beat passed, the air heavy with words neither of them knew how to say.

“I keep thinking about it,” Ruby whispered after a while, her voice rough. “About her. About… the Void. I keep trying to convince myself it’s not her. That it can’t be. But… I heard her. I saw it in the way she looked at you. The way she hesitated.”

She shook her head, her hands gripping the railing so tightly her knuckles went white. “It was Yang, Blake. Whatever’s left of her.”

Blake’s breath shuddered out, a cracked, trembling sound. “I know,” she rasped.

Another pause.

Then Ruby’s hand slid over, resting lightly over Blake’s on the railing. It wasn’t a desperate grip. Just an anchor.

“I don’t care what Ozpin says. If there’s a piece of her left… we’ll get her back,” Ruby murmured. “Even if it kills me. Even if I have to kill… I will do it to get her back.”

Blake’s lips quivered. She turned her hand over, gripping Ruby’s tight. “Me too.”

And in the hush of the dying light, the two of them stood side by side, grieving, furious, unbroken. The war was far from over. But for the first time in four years, Blake felt like she wasn’t alone in it.

And somewhere deep in the city below, a forgotten soul stirred- caught between the woman she was and the monster she’d been made to be.