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Chapter Text

The Blacksmith flicked their wrist and wisps of golden smoke puffed from their fingertips. Weiss and her friends turned, watching as the wisps spiraled around one another, faster and faster until they collapsed into a brilliant singularity of light. Then they rippled and expanded outwards and finally shimmered into...

A portal, with gold arches framing a blue-white light. Like the portals that Ambrosius had made to carry them to Vacuo. Weiss felt more than saw Ruby turn and cast her gaze back to the Blacksmith.

"Where will this take us?"

"Not where," the Blacksmith said, stepping towards the portal with their clanking footsteps. They gestured and the blue-white light inside the portal shimmered into a rainbow of iridescent clouds. "When you are needed most."

Maybe now would have been the time for a sarcastic remark. But a frisson ran down Weiss's spine. For the first time in weeks she let herself feel a thrill of excitement. Of hope. Ahead of her Blake and Yang exchanged a look, linked hands, and stepped into the portal. Weiss didn't hesitate, and she didn't look back.

Head held high, Weiss stepped forward and followed them into the light.

Weiss blinked. She found herself in a small pavilion, seated at a wrought-iron table in the corner. Late afternoon sunlight streamed between the arched pillars supporting the roof. To her right, a fountain bubbled away peacefully. A plate of croissants steamed on the table in front of her. A gentle breeze rustled through her hair. And sitting across from her...

"Oh? And what do you think you've learned?"

Weiss stared at her sister, lips parted in a tiny 'o'. Not at the question, but because she knew where she was. She knew this pavilion, this table, this conversation. She stole a glance to her left. White stone pathways swept away from the pavilion, arcing into graceful curves as they snaked across the campus. The trees were just starting to turn red with autumn. The CCT tower still stood in the distance, the pendulums above Ozpin's office shining green. Yes, she knew perfectly well where she was.

Vale. Beacon.

"Weiss?"

Weiss snapped her gaze back around. Winter was frowning at her now—really frowning, the skin between her brows crinkling as she studied her younger sister. And why wouldn't she? Said younger sister had just frozen up in response to a perfectly normal question. An expected one, even.

Winter couldn't possibly know that her sister was... what, reliving the last conversation they ever had before everything fell apart? Was that what this was? Walking through the Blacksmith's door actually just let her have one last normal chat with her sister?

"Where will this take us?" Ruby asked.

"Not where. When you are needed most."

"Weiss!"

"You should stay," Weiss blurted. Winter's frown etched a deeper furrow into her brow.

"You... learned that I should stay?"

"No!" Weiss slapped her palms on the table, her heart racing. Winter arched a brow at her. Her expression faded into something smooth and implaccable as ever—save for the faint wrinkle lingering between her eyebrows. "It's... It's..."

She trailed off, silently groping for something, anything that might get her point across. That might convince Winter to defy her orders, or at least try to convince Ironwood to change them.

"It's dangerous," she finally managed, suppressing the urge to cringe at what a weak sounding excuse that was. "Things are happening—more than just some Grimm or terrorist attacks. It feels... bigger than that. And I just..."

She trailed off. Winter's expression softened as Weiss spoke. Of course, it stopped well short of melting entirely.

"I understand your concerns, Weiss, but the situation is dangerous in Atlas, as well. General Ironwood has to stay in Vale for the Vytal Festival." Winter lifted her chin, her eyes steely. "The Ace Ops are holding down the fort at home, but he still needs someone he can rely on in Mistral."

Weiss's shoulders slumped, gaze falling to the plate of untouched croissants. That... was about what she expected, really. The best she could expect with an excuse as flimsy as, I'm just worried.

"I know," Weiss murmured. It was stupid of her to even ask, but maybe the Blacksmith's cryptic warning was even more stupid. When she was needed most? How ridiculous. Winter didn't need her. Not right now, not in any way Weiss could actually provide. She was just a student in Winter's eyes, better than many but nowhere near the standards required of a Schnee. There was no one that needed her right now.

Was there...?

"You asked me what I thought I've learned," she said, lifting her gaze to meet Winter's eyes. "Two of my teammates, Ruby and Yang, are sisters. And by watching them I've learned a lot about the sort of relationship that sisters can have."

Now it was Winter's turn to lower her gaze. That frown crept back across her expression and her empty hand curled into a loose fist.

"I know... I know that me leaving home was hard on you—"

"No." Weiss shook her head. "Winter, you were doing your best."

"But when I left—"

"You were a child."

Winter looked up, fixing Weiss with a skeptical frown.

"Weiss, I was as old as you are now."

Shoot. Weiss could feel herself flushing all the way up to her hairline.

"W-Well, maybe I'm a child, too. That doesn't matter!" She lifted her hand and settled it on top of Winter's; Winter lifted her gaze and turned her wrist to take hold of Weiss's hand, and Weiss felt something uncoil inside her. "But Winter, you were what I needed. A big sister who wouldn't let anyone or anything stop her from charging straight ahead. Who gave me someone to look up to. A goal to run towards. I couldn't have asked for anything better."

Winter was staring at her, eyes shining and throat working as she swallowed—the Schnee equivalent of bursting into hysterical tears.

"But... Whitley. I don't think he has that. I don't think he has anything even like that."

"I know," Winter murmured, her gaze sliding away. "I tried, but—"

"It's not just you. I haven't been a good older sister to him either."

It was a shame she was already back in time, if that was what was really going on, because it meant that the wish to go back in time and strangle herself was a little redundant. But the wish was still there, burning away in the pit of her stomach. Whitley was fourteen, even more of a child than she was now. And like their mom said, he'd been abandoned by them both. He'd been left alone with a mother that hadn't yet started trying to improve, a father that would never try to improve, and a kind butler that could only do so much. How could Weiss ever have been so foolish as to take his bristly personality seriously? What else was he supposed to do but lash out at the only safe target left to him?

"But... maybe now we can start. Both of us."

"Weiss..." Winter shook her head. "Of course I'll try. But please, Weiss. Don't get your hopes up. Father is..."

"Determined to have one obedient child. I know. But I believe in Whitley, Winter." Weiss squeezed Winter's hand until the other woman met her eyes. "And I believe in us, too."

Their conversation returned to something resembling normal, after that. Winter and Weiss agreed to both start reaching out to Whitley, then turned to the subject of Weiss's education. Weiss made herself brag about her grades and Glyphs, though when Winter challenged her to demonstrate her summoning Weiss stepped up with even greater trepidation than she had last time.

What did it mean when she successfully summoned her Arma Gigas? Were all of her memories past this point some sort of strange fugue state? Was she actually, somehow, her 19-year-old mind sent back in time to occupy her 17-year-old body? It was almost a relief when her focus wavered enough to prompt a sharp reprimand from Winter.

Their meeting ended just like Weiss remembered, the two of them making their way back to Winter's airship and parting ways with a pair of polite nods—but this time Winter promised to reach out to Whitley on her way back, and Weiss promised to do the same.

And then Weiss was alone, standing at the empty landing pad and waving up at her sister's departing airship. Her Scroll started ringing. She didn't bother looking at it.

What the hell was going on?

Weiss trudged back to her dorm room in a daze. No one else was there when she nudged open the door, Yang and Ruby presumably gone with their uncle and Blake off... doing Blake things. Maybe spending time with Sun?

Where they were right now didn't matter. What did matter was that it was good they were gone. Weiss took one look at their dorm room, at the posters on their wall, at their fire code violating bunk beds, and promptly burst into tears.

Weiss would have liked to say this was just a bout of dignified weeping, perfectly understandable after the extremely strange afternoon she'd just had. But she could feel her brows drawing together, her nose wrinkling, and her lips twisting into an ugly grimace. She sucked in a stuttering breath and let it back out in a series of choked, hiccuping sobs. Her knees buckled and she hit the floor with a gasp, clutching uselessly at the rug. Her vision blurred until a blink sent hot tears streaming down her cheeks. Every breath she managed to draw escaped her again as a heaving sob, until she was reduced to pathetic whimpery panting.

She was back. She was here, at Beacon, before the Fall. Yang's arm was intact. Blake's stomach wasn't scarred. Ruby had never broken down so severely she was ready to give up on being Ruby. Pyrrha was alive. And Weiss knew everything that was about to happen. That was supposed to happen, maybe, and she had no idea what to do about any of it.

Slowly, the tears dried up and the sobbing trailed off. Weiss became aware of the carpet fibers digging into her knees, the dampness on her collar, and the puffiness of her eyes and nose. The word shower flickered across her thoughts and Weiss finally found the strength to stagger back to her feet. She fumbled her way into the bathroom, wiping at her face with one hand and blindly slapping at the lightswitch with the other. Somehow she managed to get the shower on and her clothes off without knocking over anyone's makeup or Yang's pile of hair supplies. She stepped under the stream without waiting for it to warm up; the cold water wasn't even courteous enough to shock her back into coherence.

Instead she stood in the chilly, slowly warming shower with her thoughts buzzing uselessly between her ears. Her head was pounding, her sinuses were so stuffed she had to breathe through her mouth, her cheeks felt crusty with salt—and yet even after that bout of embarrassing sobbing she still had no idea what was going on.

The actual most likely explanation was that the process of leaving the Ever After was inflicting her with some sort of bizarre hallucination, or that the process had killed her and she was in the middle of a dying dream. But the longer this went on the less likely those possibilities felt. Weiss had never hallucinated or died, but she'd had plenty of dreams. And this was too coherent, too consistent, too real.

But the only other real alternatives of 'I got sent back in time' or 'I somehow gained knowledge of the future' were unlikely. Impossible. Insane.

The water was getting too hot. Weiss reached out to adjust it. She grabbed her shampoo and started the process of washing her hair, slow and mechanical.

Going back in time might be unlikely, impossible, and insane, but only about as unlikely, impossible, and insane as falling into the Ever After in the first place, or the existence of magic, or a headmaster that reincarnated by jumping into the mind of a random young man and slowly taking over his life. And the Blacksmith had said she would be sent to when she was needed most. But did that really just mean her conversation with Winter? Connecting with Whitley was important, but maybe... maybe she was actually here to prevent the Fall of Beacon?

Something about that thought felt right. Or maybe she just wanted it to feel right. It didn't really matter either way. Unless she was remembering wrong (and she was certain she wasn't) her conversation with Winter meant that the Vytal Festival had just started. Yang hadn't been tricked into attacking Mercury. And Pyrrha and Penny...

Weiss squeezed her eyes shut. Okay. She had time. Not a lot of time, but time to do something. Time to tell someone. Time to change how everything played out.

And time to figure out if she was the only one here. The rest of her team and Jaune had stepped through that portal, too, and they were all just as capable of her as preventing the Fall. Surely one of them had found themselves in the same position she was in.

Her course of action decided Weiss flew through the rest of her shower, scrubbing at her hair and skin and barely letting the conditioner sit before she rinsed it out. It was still relatively early in the evening but she didn't want to bank on the rest of her team getting back late. She stepped out of the shower, hastily towelled herself more-or-less dry, and pulled her pajamas on without bothering to apply lotion first.

She had to brace herself when she stepped back into the dorm room proper. She wouldn't be overwhelmed by a mere glance this time, but her calmer mindset meant she could take in more details this time around. There was a comic book draped precariously over the edge of Ruby's bed. One of Blake's spare hair ribbons was hung to dry in front of the window. A map of the festival food stalls, heavily marked in Yang's handwriting, was tacked to their shared bulletin board. Their desks were each stacked, in varying degrees of tidiness, with their notes and textbooks and weapon maintenance kits.

The word home drifted across Weiss's thoughts and she sucked in a sharp breath. Then she ground the heels of her palms against her eyes. No! Her head was still pounding from her last sobbing fit. She was not going to cry again and make it worse.

Only once she was sure she was under control did she stride towards her bed. She would wait here, she decided, and she retrieved her hair brush from her nightstand. She'd brush her hair, make herself comfortable, wait for her teammates to return, and...

And what, actually? Tell them she came back from the future and wanted to know if they did the same? And then deal with them treating her like she was crazy if they hadn't?

Ohh, she hated this! Weiss threw aside her hairbrush, drew her knees to her chest, and flopped onto her side. She had no idea where to start with any of this. But... she had time. She could figure it out. She just needed to think about it.

Weiss heaved a sigh. She just needed a little more time to think about it.

Ironwood left first, his shoulders still visibly tight with frustration and hurt as he swept out of the room. Qrow departed shortly after, slouching his way into the elevator with a demand that Ozpin call him as soon as he had something. Glynda, as usual, lingered the longest, updating Ozpin on the boring intricacies of daily schedules and Vytal Festival management. Neither of them discussed the task of locating their 'guardian'.

Eventually even Glynda left, and Ozpin was alone.

He sank back into his chair, lifting his hands to massage his temples. The sound of clockwork surrounded him. The rapid ticking of the gears inside his desk. The steady, nearly silent grind of the clocktower gears sweeping in circles above him. The regular click of the clock hands behind him. He let the precise symphony of noises fill his ears and chase away his thoughts.

He and Glynda did not discuss the necessity of determining a guardian before she departed, and he didn't spare any energy for the task now. Even if he didn't wish to avoid the subject, there was no need to mull over a matter that was already settled.

There was only one choice. There had only ever been one choice.

But it wasn't a choice they must rush to act on. He knew with aching, sick certainty that Pyrrha Nikos would accept the task put before her. He knew that their warnings would fail to frighten her off.

And perhaps he could be more thorough in his warnings. He had some idea of what the Aura transfer might do to her. He could describe in visceral detail what it would be like to feel out of place in her own body. The sensation of seeing memories that couldn't be her own from a first person perspective. What it was like to be held prisoner in the mind of someone who despaired at your presence. To have your very being invaded by someone who did not wish to be there. How her friends would stare at Pyrrha like she was a victim, and stare at Amber like her executioner. How those same friends would one day lash out at Amber, and how Pyrrha would have to decide if it was worth it to insist that they were still speaking to Pyrrha. How one day she would realize that the line between the two was gone, and that she hadn't even noticed it vanish.

And still, still, she would accept the task set before her, because it was that very certainty that led him to select her in the first place.

So, no. There was no need to rush. The Vytal Festival would only last for a few more days. They could move forward after it was over. Perhaps not even tell her until after it was over. Let her have those last few precious moments as just Pyrrha. It was the only thing left they could do for her.

The gears turned above him, tracking the inexorable forward sweep of time.

Chapter Text

Weiss Schnee closed her eyes. When she opened them a moment later the room was bright with the morning sunshine.

Wait, what?!

Weiss bolted upright, whipping her gaze around to stare at her dorm room. Her empty dorm room. No, no, no, she hadn't meant to fall asleep! And her team, what? Left her there? How could they?!

Weiss snatched up her scroll. 8:57. That wasn't too late. She had time to get dressed and get to breakfast and hopefully catch all of them before they went to Amity Colosseum for the day.

But then she noticed the strange sour taste in her mouth and realized, ew, she forgot to brush her teeth last night. So she had to do that. And of course she couldn't skip washing her face and at least throwing on some mascara, unless she wanted her teammates to think someone had died. And her hair was an atrocious mess from being slept on before it was dry. And she hadn't even hung up her dress last night so she had to dig out a spare, and then— and then— and then—

It was 9:23 by the time she finally dashed out of her dorm room. She ran to the cafeteria, nearly knocked over Velvet when she took a corner too fast, and glowered at Russel Thrush with such venom that his expression faltered before he even spoke. As she ran she typed out a hasty message to Whitley (Hello Whitley. I'm sorry I haven't spoken. I have a match today but maybe we can call later?) and made herself be okay with the stilted wording.

Then, finally, the moment of truth. Weiss Schnee strode into the cafeteria, slapped her hands on the table that Teams RWBY and JNPR occupied, and loudly announced:

"I had the strangest dream last night."

Seven pairs of eyes turned towards her, set in expressions ranging from politely curious to deeply puzzled to somewhat concerned. Weiss swept her gaze across the table, but as her focus drifted from Jaune towards Pyrrha she caught herself jerking it back towards Ruby. This was already difficult enough as it was.

"Congratulations?" Yang ventured. Weiss glowered at her.

"This is serious!" Weiss insisted, and it was serious. Sure, the premise was a little silly, but what other choice did she have? She'd missed her chance to talk to the rest of RWBY in private. If she calmly explained, in the privacy of their dorm, that she had either travelled back in time or somehow gained memories of the future they would at least hear her out. But if she tried to talk about it here, in public, all seven of them might conspire to drag her to a nice padded room for observation.

Absolutely not. But she wasn't the only one to go through that door. She couldn't be the only one here. She had to know who else remembered, or came back, or whatever it was that happened.

So, the dream excuse.

"We were in Atlas," she started, because that felt safest. If she started talking about the Ever After and Jaune being old and Ruby's encounter with Neopolitan it would be too easy to dismiss as the product of falling asleep while reading. "The whole city was falling, and we were trying to evacuate everyone. But we decided to take them to Vacuo, and to do that we had to help them walk across these golden bridges in an endless void. But someone showed up, a-and they started attacking us, and we all fell off—"

"Woah, Weiss!" Ruby reached out, grabbing Weiss's hand. Weiss jolted, and it was only then that she realized her eyes were burning and her throat felt tight. Her friends' expressions had universally shifted to some form of worried.

But there wasn't a single flicker or recognition.

"It was just a dream, okay?" Ruby gave Weiss's hand a reassuring squeeze. Weiss closed her eyes. Swallowed. Counted to three.

"I know," she said, lowering herself to take a seat next to her partner. She kept her gaze on the table, refusing to look at anyone else. "It just felt so real."

Nobody reacted with any recognition to her story at breakfast, and no one tried to sneakily pull her aside to confer in secret afterwards. The inevitable conclusion, then, was that she was alone.

Her team was here, of course. And so was JNPR—all of JNPR. It was good, even if she felt like she was going to scream every time she saw the bow on Blake's head, Yang's flesh and blood arm, Nora's unscarred skin, or even so much of a glimpse of Pyrrha.

But this was her team. These were her friends. Could she really consider them the same people when they hadn't experienced the Ever After? The destruction of Atlas? The Fall of Beacon? That awful day in the snow while Jinn told them Ozpin's story?

Could she? Did she even want to? And if she could, and if she did want to, was thinking of them as the same people okay?

These thoughts dragged her into the depths of what she could only think of as a Blake-tier brooding session. She missed several cues for sarcastic remarks, failed to bicker with Yang on two separate occasions, and didn't even cheer viciously when Ciel and Penny soundly defeated Russel and Sky in their doubles match. All she could think about was the fact that Penny would die soon, and that she couldn't even recall if she'd seen Sky or Russel's names on the list of casualties.

But Weiss didn't miss how Ruby fidgeted, stealing glances at Weiss, opening her mouth, and closing it before speaking. Or the way Yang would slide her gaze Weiss's way, then back to Blake, and then the two would somehow have an entire conversation in a single look. Or how Blake remained her typical, taciturn self but kept angling herself to watch their blind spots, or rotating her ears so far they deformed the outline of her bow.

Her team was getting antsy. At least not so much had changed that Weiss couldn't see that much. And she could guess why, too. She and Yang had already registered to advance to the doubles, and it was too late to swap her out if she was off her game. She wanted to scream at them for worrying about something as silly as a tournament. She also thought that if someone showed up and tried to rip that carefree innocence away from them Weiss would fling herself at that person and beat them senseless.

Maybe she should deliberately botch their doubles match against FNKI? Part of Cinder's plan hinged on that staged confrontation between Yang and Mercury at the end of their singles match. If they lost the doubles and Yang never got to that fight, then maybe...

Then maybe someone else would end up fighting them. Maybe even someone from FNKI. Weiss would bet anything that Neon, not Flynt, would be selected to advance to the singles rounds. Tensions in regards to both Atlas and the White Fang were already high. How much worse would the reaction be if an Atlesian faunus was the one who attacked Mercury? And Neon would never even get the closure of knowing that it was a setup.

No, Cinder almost certainly had a plan for all possible finalists. Which meant that losing here wasn't an option. If Weiss wanted to try to prevent the Fall of Beacon then she couldn't just avoid the setup with Mercury. She needed to disrupt it. So she would get through the doubles match, and then insist on going onto the singles rounds instead of Yang.

She had to tell her team what she knew at some point, too. She wasn't about to assume she could prevent everything on her own. She would need their help to save Penny and Pyrrha. She would need to make sure Blake and Yang didn't run into Adam in such a way that Blake got stabbed and Yang lost her arm. She would need to make sure Jaune knew enough about the previous (or, well, current) Fall Maiden to stop Cinder from taking the power for herself. And Ozpin, too.

Speaking of Ozpin, it wasn't just the Fall of Beacon she needed to prevent, was it? She had to also warn Blake about what the White Fang would be attempting at Haven, warn Ozpin about Professor Lionheart, and warn Ironwood about Watts. And really, she should probably warn Ozpin about Ironwood, too.

But to do all of that, or any of that, she had to convince them she knew what she was talking about. Winning over Ozpin would probably be easiest, she reflected with some annoyance. She doubted she would even need to bring up the Relics and what she'd learned about them. Just the name 'Ozma' would do the trick, she was sure.

But her friends, the people she actually wanted to put their full trust in her? That would be harder. Ruby would probably believe she was telling the truth—or at least believe that Weiss believed she was telling the truth—without another word said. Yang might be convinced if Weiss shared what she knew about Raven, and even that was a bigger 'might' than she wanted to gamble on. But Blake? Weiss didn't think Blake-at-seventeen trusted her enough to not panic if Weiss started dropping the names of her parents and Ilia. Weiss didn't think Blake-at-seventeen trusted anyone enough to not panic in the face of a revelation like that.

And that wasn't even touching on Team JNPR. There was almost nothing she knew about Pyrrha that she couldn't have discovered through old interviews. She didn't know enough details about RNJR's fight with the Nuckalavee to make any convincing arguments. And did Jaune even have secrets for her to dramatically reveal? She wasn't sure Adrian had even been born yet!

She wished she had a pen. There was a lot to keep track of and no time to spare to sort through it all. Ciel and Penny's match was already over and the roulette selecting the next match started spinning.

Showtime, then. Weiss drew in a deep breath.

"Don't worry," she announced to her team. "I'm not going to let some dream distract me."

Maybe it was strange for her to make that announcement when she did, before either half of the roulette had stopped spinning. But no one else seemed to think so. Ruby gave her a brilliant grin, Yang slung an arm around her shoulder with a loud whoop, and even Blake offered her a faint smile. Weiss rolled her eyes, and she was surprised when she didn't have to force her own smile.

When the roulette stopped (Team RWBY vs. Team FNKI, just like last time) she and Yang made their way down to the ring, Weiss carefully maintaining her poise. She set aside the thought of later. She needed to get through this match before anything else. At least Yang seemed to be enjoying herself, walking alongside her with a bounce in her step.

"Well, now it's our turn!"

Weiss nodded in agreement, and realized too late that she had originally said something else in response at this moment. Telling Yang to pay attention, maybe? Or keep her form? She couldn't remember, and Yang moved on before she could.

"So... You're from Atlas. What could we expect?"

This time Weiss did remember what she'd said, more or less. She also remembered how wrong her advice had been. Flynt was already stepping up to his position across from the two of them, but Neon was nowhere to be seen. Not yet, at least.

"Atlas's kingdom, academies, and armed forces are all merged into one organization." She thought about Ironwood's two council seats, shivered, and shoved the thought side. "They'll think that we're expecting disciplined fighters with advanced technology and carefully rehearsed strategies. So we should actually be prepared for—"

Right on cue Neon went zipping by, rollerblade wheels whirring and rainbow trailing behind her.

"That," Weiss sighed.

Yang stared at Neon, looking like she was ready to speak. Weiss stepped closer and grabbed Yang's wrist.

"Careful," she hissed. "Setting off your opponent's temper is the real Atlesian strategy."

Yang blinked over at her, opening her mouth to speak, but once again she was cut short.

"Hey!" Flynt called, an amiable smile on his face. "You Weiss Schnee, right? The heiress."

The heiress. Ugh, had being recognized like that really pleased her last time? She plastered an elegant smile across her face and inclined her head.

"I am," she replied. "And you must be Flynt, the son of Spruce Coal."

Flynt's expression flickered, his smile dimming and eyes widening.

"... I'm surprised you know that."

Weiss drew a deep breath. Her reputation was, rightfully, terrible. But she respected Flynt. Liked him, even. She genuinely regretted what happened to his father's shop, especially when she got the chance to look at the incident in detail after the match. But she knew by now that a simple sorry wouldn't cut it, and she wanted to avoid gaining his respect by throwing herself into a geyser vent this time.

She just wished she didn't have to wing it.

"It's important to understand the competition. Your father didn't go out of business because he was ignorant about Dust, and I'm sure you learned plenty from him even before enrolling in Atlas Academy." Weiss lifted her chin and settled her hand on Myrtenaster's hilt. "I hope you weren't expecting me to underestimate you."

Silence settled over the ring. Flynt was staring Weiss down with icy calm. Yang was just staring. And Neon...

"Woooooow!" Neon was the one to break the silence. She glided into place alongside Flynt, giving him a friendly nudge with her elbow. "Flynt, I thought you said the only way she'd win was if she paid us to forfeit!"

"Hey!"

"Damn," Yang drawled. "You weren't wrong about Atlesians and psychological warfare."

"Oh, shut up!" Weiss whipped Myrtenaster off her belt. The roulette wheels for the stage selection began to spin. "Let's just get this over with!"

Paying them to forfeit! Did Flynt really think that little of her before this match? Sure, Weiss could admit she'd been a little insufferable at seventeen. But dishonorable? Sneaky? Did they bother to look into their competition at all?!

"Three!" Port's voice boomed through the stadium speakers, cutting her thoughts short.

"Two!" Weiss held her sword upright. Flynt flexed his fingers on his trumpet.

"One!" Yang raised her fists. Neon wiggled her nunchaku back and forth.

"Fight!"

Yang flew forward with a shot from her gauntlets; Weiss, with the delicate chiming of her Glyphs. She would wait for Flynt's opening salvo and then support both herself and Yang with Gravity Glyphs. Flynt and Neon braced themselves, expressions grim—

And then smoothly stepped aside, letting Yang and Weiss sail straight past them.

"What?!" Weiss yelped, unable to help herself; she heard Neon burst into delighted giggling behind her. This wasn't supposed to happen! Flynt was supposed to...

He was supposed to assume that Weiss knew nothing about him and open with his trumpet. Except, of course, that Weiss had just told him that she did know something about him. Anyone smart enough to research him ahead of time would think to expect such an opening—and maybe a spoiled heiress was stupid enough to think sharing that information wouldn't change FNKI's strategy in response.

Oh, she hated time travel!

There was a crack of gunfire beside her and Yang disappeared from her peripheral vision. Another crack followed. Weiss could guess what was happening. Yang had used one shot from her gauntlets to halt her momentum, and then another to reverse her course. Weiss was forced to slow down in a much less dignified manner, dispelling her Glyphs and falling into an awkward jog as she skittered to a stop.

Then Flynt blasted her with his trumpet, sending her flying with shriek... directly towards the geyser fields.

Oh, no. Not this time. Weiss flicked Myrtenaster, calling up a new trail of Glyphs in front of her. They rose up to meet her feet, and then Flynt's attack was pushing her along in a much more controlled manner. Weiss held her course for a moment, then flicked Myrtenaster again. She got the timing just right. Flynt let up on his attack right as the path of her Glyphs curved and flung her into a vicious switchback. She thrust her blade out as she zipped past Flynt.

Her form was perfect. She struck a solid blow to his sternum and she saw flickers of teal as her blade skated off his Aura.

Then she was past him, though Flynt spun to land a kick across her shoulders as she dashed by. At least this time she was ready for it. She tucked herself into a roll and popped back onto her feet a few meters later, breathing hard. She whirled to face Flynt again, risking a glance at the Aura scoreboards as she did. She had come out ahead in that exchange, but not by far enough to feel like it was worth it.

"Well, Schnee." Flynt gave her a smirk. "I hope you weren't expecting me to underestimate you."

Weiss was not too proud to admit, if only to herself, that she had.

The rest of the fight proceeded too fast for Weiss to spare much attention for anything else. Weiss was better than she'd been the first time she fought Flynt, skills honed by her journey across Anima and her time spent in Atlas. Her physical prowess wasn't quite where it would be two years from now, however, and she felt herself tiring faster than she was used to.

Worse, FNKI had been in school longer than RWBY. Weiss wasn't as far ahead of Flynt in terms of skill as she would have liked. He'd learned well from their first exchange, too. He made Weiss struggle and scrape for every inch of distance she closed between the two of them and didn't let her use his attacks to her advantage again. For every bit of his Aura she managed to chip away, he forced her to burn up just as much of her own with her Glyphs.

She was distantly aware of a truly remarkable amount of shouting going on behind her, drifting steadily closer. Weiss didn't spare the focus to try to track the sound, and it wasn't until Neon slammed into her side that she realized her mistake. Her latest ring of Glyphs sputtered out as she was sent tumbling into the geyser field. By the time she rolled to a stop Flynt had already split himself into four and Yang was dropping into a crouch to charge him. Yang, who was not on fire yet; and Weiss, who was too far away from Flynt to tackle him this time.

Damn it.

Weiss slammed Myrtenaster's tip into the ground. Gravity Glyphs appeared under her and Yang without even a millisecond to spare, rooting them both in place as the assault from Flynt's trumpet began. But Weiss could feel her Aura ticking closer and closer to the critical line of 15%. At this rate all she would manage was buying them a few more seconds.

Fine, then.

"Yang, your Semblance!"

Yang didn't ask questions. She simply burst into flames, eyes flashing from purple to red. Weiss released her own Glyph and laid down a trail of new ones in front of Yang, who shot along the path as if Flynt wasn't even there. As Weiss went tumbling through the air she saw Yang close the distance and punch Flynt straight out of his Killer Quartet. Then Weiss smashed into the ground hard enough to shatter her Aura outright. Her Glyphs sputtered out as she slid to a stop and the buzzer echoed through the arena.

She was out of the fight, and she would definitely be feeling that landing later. But that didn't matter. Flynt's Aura was barely above the 15% mark itself. Yang had the rest of this in the bag, just like she had last time. Weiss pushed herself up.

Then the world exploded into heat and noise and Weiss knew nothing more.

"—she okay?"

"—medics are on the way, so—"

"—you see that, Flynt?! She's so cool—"

"—just give her some space—"

"Weiss!"

Weiss's eyes shot open and she lurched upright. Then her entire existence evaporated into pain and she collapsed back with a whimper. Even that sound just dissolved into a weak cough.

"Weiss, hey!" Ruby. That was Ruby's voice, and Weiss turned her head to stare at her. Her partner was hovering over her, eyes wide. "Just lay down, okay? Your Aura was already broken when that geyser went off."

Ugh, geysers. Of course. Weiss groaned and rolled her eyes. The gesture brought Yang and Blake into focus. Why was her whole team here? This was the doubles match, they needed to get off the field before...

Wait.

"Did we win?" Weiss's voice came out as a harsh croak. Blake smacked her palm against her face, but Yang let out a bark of laughter.

"Uh, yeah we won! You think I was gonna let you down after you pulled off a crazy move like that?"

"Yang, I don't think that's really relevant right now."

"Blake's right! ... Even though it was pretty cool."

"That's good," Weiss murmured. There was a clatter of approaching footsteps. With them came a new set of voices, unfamiliar ones, that started barking orders and medical terms back and forth. "I really wanted to make it to the singles."

There were hands on her now, tilting her one way and then the other. Then she was lifted into the air. Her vision swam, and when she could see again Ruby's face was inches from her own. Her expression had melted into an incredulous smile.

"You were really worried about the match, huh?"

Weiss tried to scoff, but that set her off in a fresh bout of coughing, which brought a fresh wave of pain, and blackness closed over her again.

Weiss spent an indeterminate amount of time drifting in and out of consciousness. She teleported from the arena to an ambulance to a hospital. At some point the pain receded and her brain was replaced with cotton. A familiar warmth rushed over her. Jaune, her exhausted brain told her, and she swatted at him with a mumble for him to save his Aura for someone who actually needed it.

Coherency finally returned to her sometime in the morning. There was a brilliant sunrise beaming through the hospital window and directly into Weiss's migraine. Weiss growled at it.

"Weiss?" That was Ruby's voice, but she was nowhere in sight. Then her head popped up over the foot of the bed. Her hair was disheveled and there was a pillow crease on her cheek, but her expression blossomed into a brilliant grin as soon as she and Weiss made eye contact. "You're awake!"

Ruby teleported to Weiss's side without even using her Semblance and... hm. Maybe Weiss wasn't coherent yet. She blinked once, very deliberately, as Ruby babbled on about how worried she was and the size of the explosion and...

And hold on a moment. Sunrise?

Weiss's hand shot out and locked around Ruby's wrist. Her partner let out a startled squeak and dropped her Scroll.

"Where's Yang?" Weiss demanded. "What day is it? Have the singles started?"

"Woah, Weiss!" Ruby pried at Weiss's fingers. Weiss latched on harder, even though the effort had her heart rate skyrocketing. "Relax. Yang and Blake are back at the dorm, okay? The singles matches don't start until later tonight."

"She can't." Weiss did her best to stare Ruby down, but her vision had started to tilt and blur. "It's dangerous. They're going to hurt her!"

"They're—wait, who's getting hurt? Yang?"

"Yes!" Weiss shook Ruby's arm. Her vision went gray around the edges. "You can't let her fight! You have to stop her, you have to make her forfeit!"

"Weiss, it's a fighting tournament! Getting hurt is a risk!" Ruby threw her free hand up. "You got hurt. Really bad, too! The doctor said—"

"I don't care about me! They're going to trick Yang, and use her to destroy Beacon, and—"

"Weiss, stop." Ruby wrenched her wrist free of Weiss's grip and put her hand on her shoulders. She pushed Weiss towards the bed. Weiss slapped her hands against Ruby's shoulders and shoved her back. Or she tried to, at least. Her arms were weak and wobbly and she wasn't able to do much but claw at Ruby's shirt as she was pushed back against the sheets. "Weiss, that's enough! You're supposed to be resting!"

"I don't care!" Weiss heard her voice crack. She thought she might be crying again, but her vision was too dark to tell. "Yang's the one in trouble right now!"

There was a flurry of new voices, new footsteps, and new hands against her arms and shoulders. They were gentle hands, at least, and gentle voices, too, despite what Weiss was pretty sure was an urgent tone. She heard the new voices saying words she didn't really care about.

But then she heard Ruby's voice, soft and concerned and so, so close.

"I'll warn Yang, okay Weiss? But you have to promise me to rest."

That's not enough, Weiss wanted to say. You have to make her stop.

But she couldn't make her lips form the words, and she slipped back into unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

The Blacksmith flicked their wrist and wisps of golden smoke puffed from their fingertips. Yang and her friends turned, watching as the wisps spiraled around one another, faster and faster until they collapsed into a brilliant singularity of light. Then they rippled and expanded outwards and finally shimmered into...

A portal, with gold arches framing a blue-white light. Like the portals that Ambrosius had made to carry them to Vacuo. Yang sucked in a quiet breath, not willing to let herself hope.

"Where will this take us?" Ruby asked.

"Not where," the Blacksmith said, stepping towards the portal with their clanking footsteps. They gestured and the blue-white light inside the portal shimmered into a rainbow of iridescent clouds. "When you are needed most."

And suddenly it didn't matter if Yang was willing to let herself hope. It blazed inside her, bright and relentless.

She stole a glance to her side and found Blake gazing back at her, her gold eyes bright and a soft, almost shy smile curving her lips. Her hand brushed against Yang's and the two of them twined their fingers together.

With Blake's palm warm against her own, Yang stepped forward and into the light.

"Yang Xiao Long wins!"

Oobleck's voice boomed over the stadium loudspeakers. Yang could feel the stage vibrating as it descended back into place, even though the sound was drowned out by the cacophony of cheering around her. And in front of her...

Mercury. Mercury Black. A man she hadn't seen since Haven. A man she'd barely spoken two words to since...

"Better luck next time."

That was what she'd said back then. Back during the Vytal Festival. It was what she said out loud now, numb and automatic. Her own words were burned into her memories like a brand. She'd said that, and he'd attacked her. Except he hadn't attacked her; Emerald had just made it seem like that. Emerald had just tricked her into attacking him.

Emerald had used her as a tool in Beacon's destruction.

Like hell that was happening again.

Yang spun on her heel, heart pounding. What was this, some sort of stupid dream? She felt weirdly in control for it to be that. She'd heard about lucid dreaming but it was never anything she'd bothered trying for herself. The fun of dreams was that you didn't control them, right?

That's how she used to think, at least. Nowadays she was scared to try. What if she tried to control a nightmare, tried to change it, and everything happened the same?

What if that was happening now?

"There's not going to be a next time, Blondie!"

That was her cue. Yang froze, thoughts scrambling for the best course of action. She probably couldn't just ignore him, right? Not without tipping off Emerald. So... so then—

So then she closed her eyes and turned around.

"I mean, probably not." Yang couldn't help but feel a little proud of herself. She actually sounded pretty cocky right now. Her eyes still closed, she heaved a shug and lifted her arms in a silly 'ta-da' sort of pose. "That's all you managed when you're, what, a year or two ahead of me?"

Mercury sputtered. Yang let her feel a vicious surge of satisfaction, both for getting under Mercury's skin and for (maybe?) spoiling Emerald's trick.

For now. Spoiling Emerald's trick for now. Yang had to get out of here.

She spun back around and opened her eyes, flicking her gaze over the crowd until she spotted her team. Her friends. Her family. She had to get to them now, before anything went wrong, and try to figure out what the hell to do next.

She crouched, angled her arms down and back, and pulled the trigger. She shot forward with a bang, prompting a guffaw of laughter from Port and a sharp, "Ms. Xiao Long! No discharging weapons between matches!" from Oobleck.

She touched back down a second later, then flung her arms up and charged for the edge of the arena. On the outside she was cheering and whooping and waving her arms, but inside her thoughts were boiling. If this was a dream it sure did feel real. She could feel the air vibrating with the noise of the crowd, the warmth radiating from her gauntlets, and her boots pounding against the floor of the arena. Blake and Ruby were at the edge of the stands, Blake smiling and clapping while Ruby lost her mind hopping up and down in glee. But where was Weiss...?

"I had the strangest dream last night."

Yang's thoughts jolted, two sets of memories colliding into a glorious train crash of confusion. She could remember bits of pieces of the past couple days as they had happened two years ago. And she could recall even more clearly the past two days as the past two days. Weiss wasn't here because Weiss was in the hospital. Because the fight with FNKI hadn't ended with a geyser shattering her Aura. The fight had ended with her Aura shattering, and then a geyser blasting her. She'd been whisked away by the medics, spent the night in the hospital, and then earlier this morning...

Ruby slumped into the dorm, dropped her bag on her desk, and fell over facedown on the floor.

"Morning, Ruby," Yang called. She was sprawled out on her stomach on Blake's bed, flipping through an old motorcycle magazine. Blake sat next to her, an actual book in her hands.

"Hnnngh," Ruby replied. "I just— pbbt, hssttph, sorry, Zwei hair—"

Yang snickered. She stole a glance at Blake, who looked outright scandalized to realize Zwei's presence still lingered in their dorm room, and laughed even harder. It took a moment, but she eventually got enough control over herself to ask:

"If you're complaining about Zwei fluff, I'm guessing Weiss is fine?"

"Um... About that."

Yang dropped her magazine, her smile vanishing.

"She's not okay?"

"No, no—I mean, the doctor's say she'll be okay!" Ruby pushed herself up and sat back on her heels. "They've got an Aura specialist or something there for the Vytal Festival—but she kept calling him Jaune, for some reason? Anyway, they think she'll be fine to leave by tomorrow morning. Maybe even tonight!"

Blake breathed out a sigh.

"But...?"

"But... well..." Ruby's gaze fell to her knees. She picked aimlessly at the tulle of her petticoats. "Do you think Weiss has been acting... kind of strange, lately?"

"Just since that dream she talked about yesterday." Yang picked up her magazine again, but only flipped it shut and set it aside. "She... seemed kind of off her game after that."

"Something was bothering her." Blake didn't close her book, but she seemed to have forgotten it entirely. "I've never seen her so distracted."

"She wasn't distracted, she was worried." Ruby lifted her gaze, silver eyes shining. "She was worried about Yang."

"Me?"

"Yeah. She said— it didn't make a lot of sense, but... She was really worried, like she'd noticed something, and she freaked out so bad the doctors had to come sedate her, and I told her it definitely wouldn't happen but—"

"Ruby." Yang leaned forward. Ruby blinked at her, then took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she opened then again her gaze was steady and firm.

"She said they were going to trick you into destroying Beacon."

Yang stumbled as everything clicked into place. Weiss hadn't woken up on time yesterday morning. Weiss had come into the cafeteria talking about a dream of Atlas and golden bridges in a featureless void. Weiss had been weirdly familiar with Team FNKI. Weiss had known Yang was in danger.

Holy shit. Weiss remembered. She knew about the fall of Beacon, the trip across Mistral, the disaster in Atlas, and probably even the Ever After and the Blacksmith and—

"Where will this take us?"

"Not where. When you are needed most."

Which, okay, sure! Yang agreed, this was definitely qualified as a 'time when she was needed most'. But she didn't think she could be blamed for not realizing that this particular ancient, mysterious, impossibly powerful entity would be the only one to mean exactly what they said.

"Yang?"

Ruby had stopped hopping up and down. Blake was frowning at her. And just as suddenly it hit Yang—they didn't remember. If they remembered they'd probably be... well, they probably wouldn't look so casual and happy about it. They'd probably be screaming at her to get out of the arena and away from Mercury as fast as possible. They'd probably already have vanished into the crowd to try to beat Emerald senseless.

"We gotta go see Weiss," Yang blurted. Ruby and Blake blinked at her. "Come on! She was worried, right? We have to go tell her the good news!"

Ruby and Blake, magnificent people that they both were, didn't hesitate despite their visible confusion. They trusted her, even though they didn't remember.

Blake didn't remember. And... well. Yang had to jog along the wall of the arena to get to the exit, while Ruby and Blake had to work their way through the crowd, and Yang was happy for the distance. Blake didn't remember anything. She didn't remember holding hands while they walked through the portal, or their moment on the bridge, or their second fight with Adam, or their first fight with Adam.

And really, it probably said something about how fucking strange this all was that it was only just now that she noticed her arm. Her flesh and blood arm. Warm and squishy. No phantom pains, no routine maintenance, no cheery yellow paint job or purple LEDs.

Was it weird that she only just noticed? Definitely. Was it weird that she wasn't immediately filled with joy at the sight? She wasn't sure. Losing her arm had been one of the worst moments of her life, perhaps topped only by her father informing her that Summer wasn't coming home. Without question, it was the most devastating loss she'd ever experienced. Not just the fight she lost, but the actual, physical loss of the arm, and her failure to protect Blake and keep her team from falling apart.

But her prosthetic arm was hers. Ironwood had ended up being a paranoid monster in the end, sure, but he'd made sure that she got her new arm because he believed that she'd earned it. And Pietro had made it for her. After Penny's death and the destruction of Atlas, her arm and his wheelchair might be the only two inventions of his left on all of Remnant. It got her through their second fight with Adam. Her second fight with Mercury. She won her first spar against her dad with it. She'd played the funniest prank of her life on Nora with it.

But was it still okay to miss it?

Huh. She was suddenly pretty sure she hated time travel.

Someone called her name and Yang snapped out of her thoughts. Ruby and Blake hopped down from the stands, and the three of them jogged to the taxis.

The landing pad was empty, no one but the three of them willing to abandon the arena in the middle of the quarter-finals. Behind them the roar of the crowd ratcheted up as (Yang assumed) the next pair of contestants were selected. But that was okay, she thought. With Mercury out of the competition he and Emerald wouldn't have a chance to try their trick on another competitor.

It was just tomorrow she had to worry about. Tomorrow night, and the semi-finals match between Penny and Pyrrha. She would talk to Weiss, and they would talk to the rest of their team, and they would all figure it out together.

The flight from Amity to the stop closest to the hospital was a short one, barely more than five minutes. Yang was desperately grateful for it. She kept catching herself stealing glances at Blake—and Blake kept catching her at it, too. She could have played it off as a joke, or a silly sort of flirting. Maybe at seventeen she actually would have.

But now? The thought of trying to do that when her girlfriend didn't remember being her girlfriend and might never remember being her girlfriend, the thought of flirting with Blake and then playing it off like she didn't mean it... It just made her queasy.

So, yeah. She was pretty grateful when the shuttle touched down and the three of them could pile out of the airship and into the hospital. Ruby led the way, chattering about how nice the doctors and nurses were and the variety of snacks available in the waiting room vending machines.

Yang listened to her nervous babbling, not providing any of her own commentary. But when they stepped off the elevator and into the waiting room, she held up a hand (her left hand, her hand that had always been squishy) to cut Ruby short.

"Actually... Do you guys mind if I talk to Weiss alone at first?"

Ruby and Blake exchanged a glance, as taken off guard as Yang expected them to be. It was Ruby that broke the silence to ask the obvious question.

"Why?"

"Well..." Yang hedged, and in her memories she could hear Ozpin, speaking in Oscar's voice as he told them that the Lamp was out of questions.

But she could also hear Ozpin's apology, hear Blake saying she understood, and remember herself agreeing, if not in so many words, that sometimes lying was okay.

And she was not going to risk making her teammates think she was crazy. If they tried to bench her for the Fall of Beacon...

"It was me she was worried about, right? Worried enough to kick up a fuss after she exploded. I just figured..." Yang shrugged. "Maybe I should make sure I'm the first one she sees. So she doesn't freak out again."

"That... might be a good idea, actually." Blake was frowning as she spoke, but it was in thought rather than suspicion or anger. "I'm not sure if it's good for her health to get sedated twice in one day."

Ruby offered no verbal response of her own, simply nodding along with Blake's assessment. Yang gave them both a grin, hoping the intense relief wasn't showing on her face.

"Thanks, guys. Give me like... thirty minutes before you kick the door down, alright?" Yang gave them a pair of (fully organic) finger guns, then turned to power walk her way to Weiss's hospital room.

Yang swung the door open without knocking. Inside, she discovered her teammate preparing to jump out the window.

The teammate in question was wearing the strangest combination of clothes Yang had ever seen on her. A sky blue bolero jacket that Yang guessed actually belonged to Weiss. An over-long t-shirt that Yang was pretty sure was one of Ruby's pajama shirts. A pair of cut off sweatpants that Yang knew belonged to herself. Weiss's own combat heels, slightly singed from her trip through the geyser fields. And to top it all off, an actual rubber band holding her hair back into a messy ponytail.

"You know," Yang drawled, pulling the door shut behind her. Weiss whipped her head around, eyes wide. "If you don't want anyone to see your terrible outfit, there's easier ways than sneaking out the window."

"Yang!" Weiss scrambled down from the window sill and threw herself at Yang, grabbing her arms. "Are you hurt? Are you okay? Mercury and Emerald—"

"I remember the Ever After."

Weiss jerked back, her jaw snapping shut.

"And I remember Atlas, and the Central Location. It just sort of..." Yang shrugged a shoulder. "Popped into my head."

There was a surge of movement and suddenly Weiss's arms were around her, her face pressed into her shoulder.

"I'm so glad you're here." Even muffled, Yang could hear how Weiss's voice wavered and cracked. "I was so, so scared I was here alone. I didn't know if I would never see you guys again, and I knew I had to stop the Fall of Beacon, but I didn't think I could do it without you—"

"Hey." Yang's voice was soft, but it cut Weiss off as surely as a yell. She slid her arms around Weiss, pulling her close, hugging her tight, stroking a hand over her shoddy ponytail. Like Weiss might somehow disappear if Yang didn't hold on. "I'm right here, okay? And I'm not going anywhere."

Weiss sucked in a sharp gasp of air. Then she collapsed in Yang's arms, clinging to her like a lifeline and sobbing into her jacket.

It wasn't a given that each school would have two students representing them in the first round of the singles matches, and that was not the case with this year's Vytal Festival. Still, Ozpin was pleased with the relatively even spread of representatives. Mercury, Pinion, and Sun from Haven, Hyalos and Penny from Atlas, Layl from Shade, and of course Pyrrha and Yang from Beacon.

Granted, even though he was pleased that each school had at least one representative in the singles, he was even more pleased that it seemed that both of the students from his own academy would advance. Ms. Nikos was almost guaranteed to achieve victory over whoever her first opponent was, and as he watched Yang Xiao Long's match with Mercury Black...

Well, he didn't think his confidence in her was misplaced in her case, either. He had the audio muted, letting the sound of the clockwork above him fill the air instead, but he hardly needed it. Ms. Xiao Long and Mr. Black both relied heavily on the firearms built into their weapons, and between that and the roar of the crowd he was sure he would hear very little of significance.

He looked away to top off his hot chocolate, and by the time he looked back the match was over, Yang with her Aura at 16% and Mercury with his completely shattered. Almost exactly as he'd predicted. Though...

Ozpin breathed out a sigh as Yang engaged in what he could only think of as grandstanding, but he was smiling all the same. That, he thought, was almost certainly Qrow's influence—though as Yang turned and sprinted towards the stands, Ozpin saw plenty of Summer in her as well.

There was a heavy clunk above him, undercut by a faint but shrill grinding noise. He tore his gaze from the screen and turned it towards the clockwork above him, but the sound had already stopped. There was no sign of anyone or anything that may have caused such a sound. The gears continued to spin and turn, driving the CTT tower's clock face with the same droning regularity as ever. The unusual noise was surely just a matter of happenstance.

Ozpin had spent countless hours in this office, both as Ozpin and as the long deceased King of Vale. Cumulatively he had been in here for literal months, without question, and almost certainly literal years. All that time had been listening to these gears turn and turn and turn, the most accurate clock tower in all of Remnant steadily counting off every second in every day.

And not even once, in all that time, had he ever heard the tower make a sound even slightly like the clunk and grinding noises he'd just heard.

The Vytal Festival feed cut to the roulette screen. The two sides spun up to decide the next match.

But Ozpin paid it no mind. His gaze remained transfixed on the gears above him.

Chapter Text

It took several minutes for Weiss to finally cry herself out. When she was done she stepped back, wiped her eyes, and beamed up at Yang.

"You really remember," she breathed. Her smile was dazed but brilliant. "When?"

"Right after my fight with Mercury," Yang replied, and she wasn't surprised when Weiss's smile vanished in response.

"Right after? But—"

"But in time for me to remember what happened." Yang paused. "Or... what was supposed to happen? What would have happened?"

"Time travel," Weiss grumbled, and her voice was so resentful Yang let out a bark of laughter.

"Yeah, time travel." It was already so convoluted and weird, and Yang had barely been here thirty minutes. "Is that why you were about to go out the window instead of using the stairs?"

"They won't let me check myself out yet," Weiss huffed. "Until the doctors give me the all clear I need a guardian or professor to sign off on it."

"And you didn't call because...?"

"I just woke up and my Scroll is dead. I couldn't even watch the tournament broadcast." She shook her head. "But to remember everything when you did..."

"Yeah," Yang scoffed. "Guess the Blacksmith wasn't lying when they told us 'when you are needed most'. Would have liked some more time to figure things out first."

As Yang spoke, a frown creased Weiss's brow. By the end of it she was biting her lip and staring down at the floor, prompting Yang to frown in turn.

"Weiss?"

She blinked and looked up, but her frown lingered. She dropped her gaze and shook her head a moment later.

"I thought about that, too. About them saying we were going 'when' we were needed most. I thought that meant the Fall of Beacon, and when the rest of you didn't remember anything yesterday morning I assumed our memories were coming back to us randomly. It happened to me while I was talking to Winter, and the only thing I could think to change was asking her to try to keep an eye on Whitley. But..." She lifted her gaze to meet Yang's. Her brows were drawn together and her teeth were worrying at her bottom lip. "But you remembered just in time to stop Mercury and Emerald from tricking you. That... doesn't feel very random, does it?"

It didn't. Baiting Yang into attacking Mercury had been a critical part of Cinder's plan; it built up the fear and unease in Vale's populace so she could set it off in earnest the next day. Yang avoiding the trick had almost certainly made it harder for Cinder's plans to move forward.

Yang could guess at Weiss's anxiety, as well. If it wasn't random, if the moments when they 'came to' were supposed to be significant, then what was Weiss meant to do during her conversation with Winter? Even Yang felt uneasy about the possibility she may have missed something, and her moment had presented her with a very obvious goal.

"Hey..." She reached out, resting a hand on Weiss's shoulder. "I'm sure you did what you needed. You remember how much Whitley helped us when we were evacuating Atlas, right? Imagine how much more he might do if we get him on board even earlier."

Weiss seemed to turn those words over in her head for a moment. Then she drew herself up and nodded.

"You're right. I did what I could. We need to focus on the future now. And..." Her gaze drifted to the hospital door. "Speaking of which, did you tell Blake and Ruby...?"

Yang blew out a frustrated breath of air. She stepped around Weiss and paced towards the (still open) window.

"No. Figured I should talk to you, first." She shot Weiss a wry grin over her shoulder. "Figured you'd be better at making it sound less crazy."

"You remember that I told everyone I had a dream, right? And almost started crying?"

"Hey, I figured it out eventually."

"Eventually isn't good enough!"

Yang blinked—and so did Weiss, when she seemed to realize how vicious her tone was.

"That— I'm sorry." Weiss dropped her gaze and rubbed at her arm, though a frown still marred her expression. "You don't deserve that. It's just... Pyrrha is supposed to die tomorrow."

"No."

Weiss looked back up, outright scowling. Yang strode towards her.

"Pyrrha was supposed to die tomorrow. But then we came back. We know what Cinder's planning, and we know how to stop her, and we will save Pyrrha, and Penny, and everyone else who kicked the bucket last time."

Yang reached out, grasping Weiss's shoulders. Finally, the scowl faded and a small smile curved Weiss's lips. Yang gave her a fierce one in return.

"We just need to figure out how to get Ruby and Blake in on it."

"Okay... In that case..." Weiss's smile vanished. "I don't think we should tell them about the future."

"What? But Weiss—"

"I know! I know, but listen. If we were remembering things at random, if the Fall of Beacon in general was our most important moment, then it wouldn't matter where and when we were when it happened. But after tonight I don't think we can assume it's random. What if we try to tell Ruby and Blake about the future and say the wrong thing? What if they change what they're planning and end up somewhere different from last time and..."

Oh. Icy dread crept up Yang's spine.

"And they're not where they're needed when they're needed."

"Exactly."

Yang let out an uneasy sigh. So much had and would happen over the course of a few days that Yang had no idea what everyone else's moment might be. Even if she knew exactly where everyone had been throughout the night (which she did not) she had no way of knowing which moments would be the moments. Their friends could miss them and make things even worse.

And what if missing those moments meant their friends could never recall the future? What if it was just her and Weiss stuck here forever?

"Fuck," Yang breathed. "I hate time travel."

She lapsed into silence and took to pacing again. Weiss lowered herself onto the bed, and Yang could see her head turning back and forth as she tracked her.

"Weiss, you realize what this means right? We're gonna have to lie to them."

"I know."

"We're going to have to lie a lot."

"I know."

"We have to not tell Blake about Adam, or Ruby about Penny, or Jaune about Pyrrha—"

"I know!" Weiss folded forward, burying her face in her arms. Then she lurched back upright, raking her hands through her hair. "But I've been thinking about it since yesterday and I don't know what else we can do! If we tell them everything it could take hours to convince them, and we don't have that! There's less than 24 hours until Penny and Pyrrha's match tomorrow. We can't afford to waste any of them, which means we can't tell them everything, and I just..."

"I get it." Damn, but Yang got it. Doing this meant keeping secrets. Big secrets. Ozpin tier secrets. Could they really do that to the rest of their team? To JNPR? Could they afford leaving them uninformed in the face of what was to come, tactically and emotionally?

Could they afford not to?

Yang slowed to a stop and closed her eyes. "So what do we do?"

"I think..." Weiss drummed her fingers against the bed. "I think we should try to tell them that we noticed something suspicious about Cinder's team, so they know to be wary of them. And then we figure out how to make sure everyone is as close to where they're supposed to be as possible."

"We should probably make sure we know what 'where they're supposed to be' is, first. What do you remember?"

Weiss hummed. "Blake and I were together for most of the night. We were at the festival, watching the tournament. Then after Penny... After everything happened, we called our weapon lockers and ran for the school. We fought together for a little bit, then Blake ran off to find you. I didn't see her again until..."

She slid Yang another look, this one uncertain.

"Until after Adam," Yang finished, and Weiss nodded and lowered her gaze.

"Ruby went to the tournament with JNPR. She ended up on one of the airships with Torchwick, at some point, too. And then she was back at Beacon. She and I got a call from Jaune, then went to find Pyrrha at Beacon Tower. I saw the flash from her silver eyes, and then your uncle eventually came and retrieved her. And you were in our room all day, right?"

"Yeah, right up until everything went to hell. I wandered around the school for a while, found you, then went to look for Blake." And the less said on that, the better. "What about Jaune?"

"Jaune was..." Weiss rubbed at her temple. "He was definitely at the tournament for Pyrrha's fight against Penny. I saw Nora and Ren at Beacon right before—no, right after Blake and I split up. But Jaune and Pyrrha... I guess they were already with Ozpin by then. We got the call from him a while later. And that was the last I heard from him before my father came."

Weiss went quiet after that, looking to Yang with an anxious, expectant expression. Yang was wracking her brain, trying to recall anything she may have missed, and she was sure Weiss was doing the same.

"Okay," Yang finally said. "We have no idea 'when they're needed most' is going to be for any of them. So we need to make sure that Ruby is at Penny and Pyrrha's match, and then goes to the airship, and then gets back to Beacon in time to zap Cinder. We need to make sure that Blake is at the festival grounds and Beacon. And we need to make sure Jaune sticks with Pyrrha all night, not that that's gonna be hard. And we've got to do that while making sure Ruby and Blake aren't out there alone, and while we're stopping Cinder's plan to trick Pyrrha into killing Penny on live TV, and stopping Cinder from getting the Maiden powers. That sound about right?"

Weiss heaved a sigh and rolled her shoulders. "Sounds about right for the stakes we've been dealing with lately. But there's another complication, Yang: you have to be at Amity for the tournament."

"I'm not really worried about my match, Weiss."

"But you're worried about making sure Cinder doesn't catch onto us, right? They might already be suspicious after you didn't fall for their last trick."

Yang whirled around. "I am not leaving Blake alone to deal with Adam!"

"And you won't be! Yang, I'll be there with her!"

"That's not—" Yang growled. This time she was the one to rake a hand through her hair. "Weiss, running into a Schnee is not going to make Adam easier to deal with."

"No, it's not," Weiss agreed. "But you and I both know it's the only thing that has a chance of distracting him from Blake long enough for you to show up."

"I'm not offering you up as a sacrificial lamb, either!"

"We don't have a choice!"

"We can choose to have me forfeit my match!"

The door banged open. Yang whirled around and Weiss sprang to her feet, both of them reaching for their weapons.

But it was only Ruby, her silver eyes wide and her chest heaving with exertion.

"Guys, Sun just attacked someone."

Weiss and Yang stared at her. Ruby hurried forward, her Scroll already in hand, while Blake trailed after her with wide eyes. Ruby thrust the screen out towards Yang and Weiss, the video already in progress.

It was obviously a feed from a security camera mounted somewhere in the back halls of Amity Arena. Black and white, no audio, high viewing angle. The contents were clear, however. Mercury exited the Haven locker room just as Sun wandered into frame. The two spoke; after a moment Sun started to shout, while Mercury raised his hands in a placating gesture. Then Sun lashed out, smashing his staff into Mercury's knee. Mercury went down, clutching his leg, and Sun dashed out of frame. The whole thing was over in less than a minute.

Yang and Weiss were dead silent throughout the video, and when it ended they only exchanged a glance. Yang wasn't a mind reader, and she and Weiss didn't have that same skill for wordless communication that Huntress partners tended to develop.

But Yang didn't need either of those things to guess at the thoughts running through Weiss's head right now.

The video of the attack ended up on the internet fast. Suspiciously fast. Yang didn't bother to do the math, but she was certain it had barely been thirty minutes since the end of her match. And the contents of the video were shockingly familiar. This was obviously the work of Cinder and her cohorts. The only question was whether it was actually Sun in the video—but given that he'd attacked without warning and immediately ran away, Yang was willing to bet otherwise.

"I..." Weiss started. "I need to go talk to Ironwood. He has to know this footage is doctored."

"What?" Blake turned to stare at Weiss. "How can you know that?"

"Isn't it obvious? There's no way Sun would do something like this."

"Isn't there?" Blake's voice was soft, her gaze cast down. Yang felt tension creep over her, even though she wasn't on the receiving end of Blake's doubt this time. "Sometimes people change."

"That's..." Weiss faltered. "I mean... I don't..."

Yang settled a hand on Weiss's shoulder, cutting her off, and turned her gaze towards Blake.

"You're right. Sometimes people let you down. Even people you were certain you could rely on. They change, or it turns out they were actually a monster the whole time."

And she knew that Blake had experienced both of these things. That she had a really good reason to be wary of a sudden outburst of violence from someone she cared about. Maybe Yang should have felt reassured, seeing how fast Blake was to doubt Sun. It wasn't just something about Yang.

But there was no relief to be had. Seeing Blake standing there, her gaze downcast and her brows knitted into a little frown, all Yang felt was the urge to track Adam down and murder him again.

Later. That could come later. For now, she had to help Blake another way.

"But I really don't think Sun would do something like this. Not without a good reason. And—" Yang held up a finger. "—I know he didn't do it. Mercury's legs are prosthetics."

The rest of her team stared at her. Blake and Ruby were wide-eyed. Weiss, on the other hand, looked like she was fighting to not smile at her.

"That... that still doesn't prove that Sun didn't attack him." Blake's tone was cautious, but her expression was so... so hopeful, so eager to accept that Sun was the good person he seemed to be, so desperate to believe that he really was kind and trustworthy. Yang began to debate the merits of figuring out how to time travel on her own; maybe she could find a way to kill Adam three times.

"But Mercury carrying on like his leg was actually broken is suspicious," Ruby hedged.

"It's suspicious the video leaked so quickly, too." Weiss reached out to tap Ruby's Scroll for emphasis. "Suspicious enough that I bet we can convince General Ironwood to look closer."

"Then..." A grin spread across Ruby's face. "Then we better get back to the Arena!"

"Of course," Weiss agreed. "But first... Ruby, give me your clothes.

Weiss's demand for Ruby's clothes ended up delaying their departure for several minutes. Her logic checked out in the end—having a Schnee show up to argue with Atlas personnel in favor of a faunus would say a lot, but not if she showed up looking like she'd skipped laundry day for a month straight, and Ruby was the one who brought her the absurd mismatched outfit in the first place—but it still produced a bout of baffled staring from the rest of her team.

While Weiss and Ruby swapped outfits (sans Ruby's cape, which she stubbornly clung to) the four of them agreed that Weiss, Yang, and Blake would go to argue Sun's case to Ironwood while Ruby, being the fastest of the three, would return to the dorms to retrieve a change of clothing for herself and Weiss.

Then Yang and Blake had to calm Ruby down, because Weiss gave them a simple, "I'll meet you on the ground," before heaving herself out the window. It was only the sight of Weiss bouncing from gravity Glyph to gravity Glyph that convinced Ruby she wasn't about to die.

Then the three of them were finally on the go in earnest. But hey, at least Yang remembered where the security station was from the last time this had happened.

The shuttle picked them up and dropped them back off at Amity within a few minutes. Yang led Weiss and Blake down the twisting back hallways of Amity until they finally came across a door labeled SECURITY. Two Atlas guards flanked it, and Weiss didn't hesitate to march right up to them.

"I need to speak with General Ironwood," she demanded, and Yang had to hold back the urge to laugh. Weiss's tone was a dead accurate imitation of how she actually would have sounded at seventeen.

"General Ironwood is busy," one of the soldiers replied in a bland monotone. "He doesn't have time to speak with students right now."

"Excuse me?!" Weiss's voice rose to a borderline shriek. "I'll have you know that General Ironwood personally commended us for our efforts during the Breach, and—"

"I can't say I recall doing any such thing, Ms. Schnee."

Weiss jumped and whirled around, her blue eyes wide. Yang felt Blake go stiff next to her. Yang reacted more sedately, but only because she forced herself to. She knew that taking to Ironwood was why they came here, but she could feel the tension crawling along her shoulders. She turned her head and...

There he was. General James Ironwood himself, striding down the hallway like he owned the place. Only a few years younger than when Yang had last seen him, but looking like it was closer to a decade. She couldn't even pretend it was the beard. Ironwood looked so much less tired now. It was hard to even connect the man in front of her with the man he was in Atlas. The man she knew he would eventually become.

Would have eventually become. They still had time to change things. They had to have time to change things.

For now, maybe he was still amenable to reason. He seemed almost amused by their presence, especially once he gave Weiss's stolen outfit a once-over.

"In fact, I'm almost certain it was your own headmaster that did that."

"That's—!" There was already pink visible in Weiss's cheeks. She fumbled for a moment, then inclined her head. "I apologize for the deception, sir, but we urgently needed to speak to you about Sun Wukong."

This, however, only got a frown from Ironwood. "And why is it that you think there's anything to speak about regarding him?"

"The... video?" Weiss blinked. "We saw the video, so we assumed...?"

"It's already leaked online," Blake provided, from where she had slid herself halfway behind Yang. "As of ten minutes ago."

Ironwood swore. Yang arched a brow. She hadn't heard that from him even when things were going to hell in Atlas.

"Seems we have an opportunist among Amity's staff." Ironwood shook his head. "In any case, I'm afraid I can't speak to you at the moment. I need to get Mr. Wukong's statement before anything else."

"Well I'm here to vouch for his character," Weiss insisted. "I can assure you, this is completely unlike him."

"And I think you should get my statement first." Yang took a step forward, crossing her arms. "Maybe somewhere an 'opportunist' can't overhear us?"

Ironwood looked over the three of them, his frown melting away into what Yang could only assume was total confusion. Yang had to remind herself that Ironwood didn't know them. Not like he did by the time they reached Atlas. Maybe he'd trust them, but maybe he'd decide they were just a bunch of kids rushing to protect a friend.

Finally, Ironwood closed his eyes and sighed.

"Follow me."

He led them a short way down the hallway and through an unlabeled door into what was clearly a supply closet. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined the walls, each one packed full of toilet paper, paper towels, and cleaning supplies. Most critically, there were no security cameras in sight.

Ironwood took a few steps into the room and turned to regard them. He waited until Blake pulled the door shut before speaking.

"Go ahead," he prompted, and Yang felt a weird little twist of... what was that, guilt? If this was Ozpin he'd probably have the air of a father indulging his daughter's silly whims. It would be a ruse, sure; Ozpin was always listening more closely than most people realized. But the paternalistic, patronizing air would be there all the same.

But Ironwood wasn't playing games with them. He wasn't patronizing them, or indulging them because he thought it was the fastest way to get them out of his hair. Even if he didn't think they would tell him anything important he was taking them seriously, and he was willing to let them see that he was taking them seriously.

And suddenly, Yang could see the Ironwood they met in Atlas. Not the paranoid, strung out maniac that was willing to let the many burn to see the few. But the Ironwood that had trusted them with the Lamp. The Ironwood that had listened to Oscar's advice. The Ironwood that had wanted to turn Amity Colosseum into a communications tower and reunite the world.

Maybe it was already too late. Maybe Ironwood was always going to become the person he would a few years from now. The Vytal Festival was a peace celebration, and Ironwood showing up with an army in tow didn't paint the most flattering picture of his foresight. But Qrow, Professor Goodwitch, and Ozpin... they had all trusted Ironwood at some point. They all saw something that made them think he was someone they could rely on.

Maybe the Fall of Beacon had scarred him just as much as it had everyone else. In fact, it seemed impossible that it hadn't. Maybe right now, he was still the person that even someone as paranoid as Ozpin, as cynical as Qrow, and as practical as Glynda would put their faith in. Maybe now they had a chance to make sure he could stay that person.

Starting with the simplest step.

"Mercury Black has prosthetic legs."

Ironwood's eyes went wide. He just stared at Yang for a long moment.

"You're certain?"

"Positive. I noticed during our match."

Ironwood fell into a thoughtful silence, and even that was a display of trust. Yang could see the (probably strictly metaphorical) gears turning in his head, and she could see that he wasn't trying to hide that from her. "Could it have been his weapon?"

"No chance." Yang lifted her right leg and smacked her right hand against her thigh. Her elbow twinged a little. "It was up here, just above his knee. With a fighting style like that, there's no way he'd risk messing up his mobility on a major joint."

"You could check," Blake prompted, her tone hopeful, but Ironwood shook his head.

"Even if Mercury Black has prosthetics, we still have Wukong caught assaulting him on camera."

"That footage could be doctored." Weiss stepped forward, borrowed boots scuffing against the floor. "General Ironwood, you know there are people in Atlas capable of something like that."

"And besides," Yang interjected. "If Mercury's legs are prosthetics, why was he rolling around on the ground like it actually hurt? Doesn't that seem suspicious?"

Ironwood opened his mouth, but Blake cut in before he could speak. "And I'm sure when you found Sun he wasn't making any effort to hide or evade you."

"Alright, alright." Ironwood held up a hand to forestall any more commentary. "You've made your point. I'll track down whatever hospital he was taken to and ask him more questions there. But..."

He gave them all a wary but bordering on amused look.

"I will still need to interview Wukong, if that's alright with you."

Despite the spike of empathy she'd just experienced, Yang didn't like the idea of leaving Sun alone with Ironwood. She could tell Weiss and especially Blake didn't like it, either. But when the three of them exchanged a glance it seemed that none of them could come up with a convincing counterargument.

"I suppose," Weiss finally allowed, and the wariness in Ironwood's expression was replaced entirely with amusement.

"Glad to hear it. There's just one last thing." Ironwood turned his gaze to Yang, the amusement bleeding away into stern solemnity. "Ms. Xiao Long. Can I have your word that you've given me this information in good faith? That you genuinely believe that this confrontation was a setup, and you're not just speaking up on behalf of a friend?"

Yang almost wanted to laugh. Finally, a question with an easy answer.

"I'd stake my life on it."

"Well," Ironwood murmured, rolling his right shoulder, "hopefully it won't come to that. Thank you for bringing me this information. And..." He gave Yang a nod. "Good luck in the semi-finals tomorrow."

And with that, Ironwood was all business once again, and he strode past them and out of the room. It was only once the door was closed that Weiss breathed out a sigh.

"That... went better than I expected," she ventured, and Yang nodded in agreement.

"At least now he probably won't throw Sun in prison, or whatever."

"I'm still worried, though." Blake dug her Scroll out of her pocket. "I'm gonna call Neptune and wait for Sun. Is it okay if I meet you guys back at the dorm...?"

Yang opened her mouth to say she would stay with Blake, but she caught the urgent look that Weiss shot her. She paused, wanting to insist on staying anyway.

"Yeah," Yang finally agreed, and she tried to keep the disappointment out of her expression. "And.... once you get back, there's something else we want to talk to you guys about."

Yang, now with Weiss in tow, wasn't lucky enough to end up on an empty shuttle back to campus. The matches for the evening were over and the airships were packed to capacity. Several of their classmates gave Yang congratulations, though it seemed like most Beacon students were chatting about Pyrrha's match.

She heard fewer people talking about Sun than she expected, and most of what she caught was from people that sounded skeptical or disbelieving. Obviously a leak would spread more slowly than something caught by the Vytal tournament broadcast feeds, but it was strange for it to spread so slowly. Everyone should already be talking about it by now, right?

No, she forced herself to admit. No, they wouldn't. She didn't know much about some of the competitors, but she knew her own match with Mercury had been plenty entertaining. She was sure the same was true for Pyrrha, Sun, and Penny's matches. With each academy having at least one representative in the singles round even students from teams that had already lost would be on the edge of their seats to see who advanced, and few of them would be checking their phones for gossip. The tournament was all they cared about for the moment. By tomorrow morning the news would have spread, but for now everyone was still riding that post-match high.

And she wasn't sure how she felt about it. Neither 'angry' nor 'sad' really fit, since she was happy that Sun's name wasn't immediately being dragged through the mud. 'Frustrated' felt too small for the emotion in question, and she was actually relieved that the news wasn't spiraling wildly out of control. And 'jealousy'...

The taxi pulled into the Beacon stop. Yang and Weiss rose as the rest of the students did, filing out of the shuttle and onto the docks before splitting up to venture further into the campus. Wandering across the school grounds, without anyone staring at her and with no armed escorts seeing her to her dorm room, Yang had to admit that 'jealousy' was probably it. She was jealous of Sun. She was jealous that the attempt to frame him hadn't been broadcast on live TV during the most viewed tournament on the planet. She was jealous that the news was spreading gradually. She was jealous that his reputation was being ruined in a slow, manageable way and not an instantaneous, irreversible way.

And wasn't that just messed up? She shouldn't be jealous, she should be overjoyed. Sun was a good person and a good friend. He was Blake's good friend. He'd protected her, supported her, helped her help the people that she cared about. He was the reason she'd survived everything in Menagerie. No one in the tournament deserved to be framed the way he was or the way Yang might have been, but if there was anyone who least deserved to have this happen to them it was—

Well, it was Penny. But Sun was a strong contender.

"You know what really gets me?" Yang lurched to a stop so abruptly that Weiss collided with her shoulder. There were no witnesses, at least; at some point the two of them had ended up alone outside the cafeteria. "It's that this isn't even a new plan. This is the same plan they had the first time."

"I... guess so...?" Weiss lifted a hand, brushing her fingers against Yang's shoulder. Yang shrugged her off and prowled forward.

"That's obnoxious, right?" Yang shook her head and heat crackled over her skin. "They couldn't even bother to come up with something new? They just took what they were gonna do and did it to someone else, but worse? It didn't make anyone nearly as upset, they're just screwing over Sun for no reason—"

"Yang!" Weiss's voice came out as a hiss, and it was only then that Yang felt her teammate's nails digging into her arm. Yang blinked; then she shook her head and the heat dissipated.

"Sorry." She blew out a frustrated huff. "It just... it just pisses me off, you know. At least when it happened to me I eventually understood why. And I hate that they're just treating Sun like... like..."

"Like he's convenient?"

"Yeah. Like that. And... Weiss, look." Yang turned around. Weiss let go of her arm but stayed close, gazing up at Yang with her blue eyes full of worry. "I know you think it's risky for me to skip the tournament. But if I'm pissed off, I know Blake must be furious. Even if she's not showing it. And if she runs into Adam like that, while she's already worked up..."

Yang trailed off. Weiss lowered her gaze, lifting a hand to rub at her other arm. She just fidgeted like that for a moment, more hesitant than Yang had even seen her before.

"When you," Weiss finally said, only to promptly lapse into another long moment of silence. "... When you fell from the Central Location, Blake tried to catch you. You remember that, right?"

"Only a little," Yang admitted. "I saw Gambol Shroud, but I was already pretty out of it."

"Mm. Well, when she missed—when she realized she missed, when she realized you were already gone, she— I—" Weiss sucked in a sharp breath and finally lifted her gaze. Her eyes were shining, and her borrowed black and red clothing made them look unnaturally bright in the moonlight. "Yang, she lost it. I think she would have thrown herself off after you, just on the chance it might have let her save you. If I hadn't grabbed her..."

Weiss trailed off again, squeezing her eyes shut.

"... For what it's worth, Weiss, I'm glad you were there to stop her."

"Do not," Weiss snapped, and she lifted a hand to viciously scrub at her eyes. "Don't you dare make me cry again. This isn't about me."

Silence fell between them yet again, punctuated only by a few sniffles from Weiss.

"It's about both of you," Weis finally managed, letting her hands fall to her side. "I'm not asking you to go to the tournament just to avoid looking suspicious. Blake doesn't know how strong you really are now, and she's not the same person she was in Atlas, and she's already worried about Sun. If you're with her when she runs into trouble she's not going to do anything to protect herself. You know that, Yang."

Yang wanted to argue, but when she opened her mouth nothing came out. It was hard to argue with the truth, after all. But that didn't mean that leaving Weiss and Blake alone out there was the right choice, either.

"You don't know Adam like we do. He'll try to kill you, Weiss."

"He won't be the first. He won't even be the first White Fang member to try. He won't even be the first White Fang member to try this year." Weiss drew herself up, straightening her shoulders. Her eyes were still red-rimmed and watery, but her gaze was steady and firm. "I have plenty of experience with people trying to kill me over my family name. I know how to handle that. But the way Blake screamed when she realized you were gone... Being too far away to help either of you when it mattered... I—"

Weiss's voice cracked and her steady gaze suddenly wavered and fell.

"... Please, Yang, let me stay with Blake tomorrow. I can't... can't go through with thinking I've lost you both again." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Please."

I won't be able to focus either, Yang wanted to snap, but the words stuck in her throat. She and Blake had focused just fine when they split up in Mantle, hadn't they? I thought this wasn't about you, floated through her mind, but the words were so cruel Yang physically cringed to catch herself so much as thinking them. You're not the only one who's worried, didn't even bear considering. Of course they were both worried.

It wasn't a question of who was more worried, or which strategy was best, or who most deserved to be there. It was a question of trust. She could trust Weiss with most things. She could trust Weiss with nearly anything. Could she trust her with this?

"Do you blame yourself?" Yang finally asked. "For not being able to stop Blake and I from falling?"

Weiss looked up, confusion clear in her expression. After a moment it gave way to uncertainty, and then a somber frown, and then finally to determination.

"No," Weiss insisted, and Yang didn't believe her for a second. Obviously, she blamed herself. Of course she blamed herself. They all did, every last one of them, and she knew they would all keep blaming themselves until the day they died.

But whether or not Weiss actually blamed herself didn't matter. What mattered is that she knew that Yang didn't want her to.

Yang heaved a sigh, but she nodded. "Okay. You win. You stick with Blake tomorrow."

This time, Yang was ready when Weiss surged forward to wrap her in a hug.

"Thank you," she murmured, arms tight around Yang. "I promise I'll look after her. I won't let him so much as scratch her."

"Don't let him scratch you, either." Yang leaned away until Weiss loosened her grip, then stepped back to stare down at her teammate. "I'm trusting you to look after both of you until I can get there. Got it?"

Weiss grinned up at her. Not a smile that was dazed or sad or tentative, but a bright and earnest grin. "You have my word."

"Good. Now..." Yang turned and slung her right arm around Weiss's shoulder. Her elbow twinged again, but she forced herself to ignore both that and her lingering worries. "Let's figure out how to get everyone on board with our plan."

Chapter Text

The Blacksmith flicked their wrist and wisps of golden smoke puffed from their fingertips. Jaune and his friends turned, watching as the wisps spiraled around one another, faster and faster until they collapsed into a brilliant singularity of light. Then they rippled and expanded outwards and finally shimmered into...

A portal, with gold arches framing a blue-white light. Like the portals that Ambrosius had made to carry them to Vacuo. It had been years ago, from Jaune's perspective, but he could never forget the sight of them.

"Where will this take us?" Ruby asked.

"Not where," the Blacksmith said, stepping towards the portal with their clanking footsteps. They gestured and the blue-white light inside the portal shimmered into a rainbow of iridescent clouds. "When you are needed most."

This was it, wasn't it? His chance to go back. He was going to be able to see his friends again. He could see Nora and Ren and Oscar. He had a chance to help. Ahead of him Blake and Yang exchanged a look, linked hands, and stepped into the portal. Weiss didn't hesitate, striding after the two with her head held high.

With hope burning inside him for the first time in years, Jaune stepped forward and followed them into the light.

The crisp autumn wind ruffled Jaune's hair and sent fallen maple leaves rattling past his feet. The late afternoon sun streamed through the trees, casting dappled shadows against the white paving stones that encircled Beacon Academy's dining hall.

And in front of him was Pyrrha, facing away from him but unmistakable all the same. More Ever After nonsense, he wanted to tell himself. Except that he couldn't. She was so real. The way the sun reflected off her bronze headpiece. The way the wind stirred strands of her hair. The curve of her shoulders as she hugged herself. She was more real than his dreams, than his memories, than the illusions the Cat showed him.

"I've always felt as though I was destined to become a Huntress," Pyrrha said, and Jaune froze. He remembered those words. How could he ever forget? They weren't the last words she'd ever said to him, but this was the last conversation they'd ever had. The last real one. The last chance he had to really help her.

Of course he'd fumbled that chance.

"To protect the world... And it's become increasingly clear to me that my feelings were right."

She turned to face him and Jaune didn't dare to even breathe. In his memories Pyrrha's eyes were always bright and clear, shining with a clarity of purpose he'd never been able to match. But now they were clouded with worry, the corners of her eyes crinkled and her brows drawn together—and that, more than anything, made him certain of how real she was. No one could ever mimic how she'd looked in this moment. Not unless they knew Pyrrha. Really knew her, in a way that Jaune now knew not even he did at the time.

"But... I don't know if I can do it," Pyrrha finished, and she looked at him. Years ago he'd thought she was just asking for reassurance. Just a little pep talk to remind her of how capable she was.

But now he could see the things he'd missed before. The desperation, the uncertainty, the fear of being alone.

He'd never actually thought about what he might have said if he'd had a chance to redo this conversation. His memories of Pyrrha were sacred, in a way. Even a whole school year's worth of them wasn't enough, especially with so few mementos to remember her by. He never dared to try to rewrite any of them. He just encased them in glass and put them on the shelf, protected them as best he could even as they inevitably started to fade with time.

He had no idea how to proceed. He had to trust his instincts to let him pick the right thing to say.

"Who cares if you can't do it?"

That was not the right thing to say. Pyrrha stared at him, mouth open and eyes wide in an expression Weiss would probably describe as 'aghast'. Not for the first time in his life, Jaune fervently wished for the ability to step back in time and punch himself in the face.

"Jaune, I care."

"I-I know! That's exactly what I mean! You care if you can fulfill your destiny." The statement was a blatant lie when he started speaking, but by the time he was done he had found a thread of truth in own words. Something for him to tease out and chase after and maybe come to some sort of conclusion with. "S-So that means you get to decide how you fulfill it, right?"

Pyrrha was silent, but the 'aghast' expression was fading. Her eyes were still wide and shining with unshed tears, but she had closed her mouth and her eyebrows had relaxed into something less 'annoyed' and more 'confused'.

Okay. Good. It was working. Even though Jaune had not tried to rewrite this particular memory, he had thought about it a lot over the years. Nearly every word of it was burned into his memories, so he knew what Pyrrha had been upset about. Either not being able to fulfill her destiny, or fulfilling it at the cost of who she was.

Alright. He could work with that.

Truthfully, he wanted to scream at her to say no. He wanted to tell her in gruesome detail what would happen if she said yes. He wanted to march into Ozpin's office and tell him no himself. He wanted to grab Pyrrha and drag her all the way to Argus and hide her under his sister's bed. Anything to keep her from following Ozpin into that elevator later tonight.

But he couldn't. This was Pyrrha's choice. He knew she already felt backed into a corner by the expectations of others. He knew the reason she'd gone along with Ozpin's insane scheme was because she felt like she had to. If he tried to make this decision for her she'd shut him out, or worse.

And more selfishly, he couldn't. He was supposed to be her teammate, her leader, her partner. He couldn't stand to become someone else putting too much on her shoulders.

"And if this thing that came up would let you fulfill it, but at the cost of who you are, isn't that defeating the point? I mean, is it more important to fulfill your destiny, or is it more important for you to fulfill your destiny?"

"I..." Pyrrha dropped her gaze and shook her head. "Being a Huntress isn't just about me, though. It's something I'm doing to try to protect people."

"I know that. That's what I..."

Love. Love. That's the word he wanted to say. The one he needed to say. The word that had been wedged in his heart for decades. If he didn't say it now he might never get a chance again. If he wanted to say it he just had to...

Just had to make the situation about him.

"... what I admire about you. You'll do whatever you can to help people that need it. You've spent hours helping me with my technique, you made that training video for me, you don't tell people off when they bother you for autographs, you always tell me and Ren and Nora how much you appreciate our hard work. And you work so hard, like you think you have to prove you have a place on our team. That's the Pyrrha Nikos I know."

He took a step forward, offering out a hand. Truthfully he wanted to just lunge forward, to grab her hands and never let go. But he could remember how anxious and fragile she'd been, and he could see it in front of him now.

So... he offered his hand. Pyrrha flicked her gaze down to his hand, then up to his face, and then down to his hand. And then she stepped forward and took it, and he had to choke down a sob of relief.

"If this way of fulfilling your destiny requires you to give up who you are? Then maybe it's not actually going to help you fulfill your destiny." He squeezed her hand as tight as he dared. "And I know you might decide it's worth it anyway, because that's who you are. But no matter what you decide... we'll be here, okay? All three of us. Whether it's to help you find a new path, or to help you keep being Pyrrha, we're on your side."

Jaune finally lapsed into silence, his heart pounding like he'd just sprinted all the way across campus and back. In that silence, Pyrrha stared at him. Then she lifted her free hand to cover her mouth, fresh tears welling in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. Jaune released her hand, horrified, because he'd messed up, of course he'd messed up again.

"I'm sorry," he blurted. "I'm sorry, I only mean—"

"No—" Pyrrha surged forward, grabbing Jaune's hands in both of her own. With her mouth no longer covered Jaune could see that she was smiling. It was a weak, watery, uncertain expression, but it was undeniable. "Thank you, Jaune. I... didn't realize I needed to hear that."

She lifted a hand to rub the tears away from her eyes and cheeks. Jaune had to take a deep breath and blink, hard, to fight back the steadily building burn in his own eyes.

"I'm glad I said it, then."

Pyrrha let out a shaky laugh at that. When she met his eyes again her smile was still sad and soft, but it was steady.

"I still don't know what I'll do," she admitted. "But... now I know that no matter what I decide, I won't regret it."

They stood there in silence for a few moments, Pyrrha occasionally sniffling and rubbing at her eyes. Eventually, though, she regained her composure, and released Jaune's hand with an awkward laugh. Smiling, she murmured something about needing to head to the Arena, and promised to catch up with him after the match. Then she turned and left.

Jaune wanted nothing more than to chase after her, clinging to her like a shadow. But he knew that Pyrrha preferred to wait in the locker rooms before a match. He'd only be able to follow her as far as Amity Arena's docks before they were forced to split up, and then he'd be left lurking uselessly in the stands.

And he was not going to be useless during the Fall of Beacon. Not this time.

So Jaune watched Pyrrha retreat, offering her a little wave as she jogged off, and turned the events of the past few days over in his head. He was hard pressed to choose a single aspect of this whole situation that counted as the weirdest part. But even if he couldn't decide for sure, he knew that one of the top contenders was the mismatched double memories.

He could (vaguely) recall yesterday as it had happened twenty years ago. The excitement leading up to Yang's match, the horror as she lashed out at Mercury, the uneasy air in the Arena as the remaining students went through their own matches. He could (vaguely) remember earlier today as it had happened twenty years ago. Ironwood's visit to Team RWBY's dorm, Ruby asking Pyrrha to win the tournament for Beacon, and Ren and Nora's attempts to get Pyrrha hyped for her upcoming matches.

And then he could recall yesterday and earlier today as... well, yesterday and earlier today. Yang had not attacked Mercury after their match. Rumors and a video of Sun attacking Mercury had started circulating instead. That morning it was Professor Goodwitch that went to RWBY's dorm, not Ironwood, and it was to yell at Weiss for not checking herself out of the hospital correctly.

Weiss was who it all came down to. She was the first one to start acting differently. She was the one who talked about a dream set in what was obviously the Central Location. She was the one who exploded worse than usual during her fight against FNKI. She was who he needed to talk to.

Jaune had vague memories of having had Weiss's number stored in his phone, though with twenty years of hindsight he couldn't imagine why she'd ever given it to him. So he drew out his Scroll and he called her. It wasn't until he heard her answering Hello? that he realized he had no idea what to say, and ended up blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

"Weiss, your dreams are contagious," Jaune blurted out, and then he smacked a hand against his face. What sort of opener was that?

"... Excuse me?"

"Your dream about the bridges, while we were leaving Atlas! I had it too! And, um, your sister was there! And when we fell off the bridges we ended up on a weird beach with a big tree...?"

There was silence from Weiss's end, a faint rustling, and then: "Where are you?"

"Uhh, cafeteria. West side."

"Stay there, we're coming to find you."

We? Jaune wanted to ask, but Weiss had already hung up. All he could do was wait, pacing back and forth and trying to wrangle his thoughts into some semblance of coherency. His luck in that regard was... limited. He mostly just kept getting caught on the fact that he was somehow in the past, and that he had a chance to actually save the people he cared about, and that he was taking all of this way better than he thought he would.

Oh, he was definitely going to have some sort of nervous breakdown later.

"Jaune!"

Jaune jerked his head up. Weiss, with Yang in tow, had just rounded the corner and was now sprinting straight towards him. She skittered to a stop mere inches away and grabbed him by the front of his hoodie.

"What's the name of the Spirit of Creation?"

"I— what?" He stared at Weiss. She did forget his name? Did they need to use the Staff? How had she gotten to Atlas and back so fast? "Um, oh, it's, uh... Amb... Ambrosia? No, Ambrosius!"

Relief broke out across Weiss's expression. Her shoulders slumped and she relaxed her grip on his hoodie, giving him a brilliant smile. Next to her, Yang let out a little whoop and gave Jaune a hearty slap on the shoulder.

"Glad to have you back, Jaune." And then she added, with a laugh, "Guess you're stuck with this haircut for a while."

That finally drove a startled huff of laughter out of Jaune. He lifted one hand to rest on Weiss's wrist, and the other to rest on Yang's.

"I missed you guys," he said, and he immediately wanted to groan at himself for it. From his perspective he'd last seen them not even an hour ago, and he doubted it had been more than a day or two for Weiss or Yang.

But neither Weiss nor Yang made any sort of teasing or disparaging comment. They exchanged a pair of soft, tired smiles, and then turned those smiles on him.

"Yeah," Weiss agreed. "We missed you, too, Jaune."

Glynda always found the Vytal Festival schedule terribly frustrating. It was seven days long: two days for the teams matches, two days for doubles, and one day each for quarter-finals, semi-finals, and finals of the singles matches. And of course, it made sense why it would be structured that way. Giving all the contestants at least a full day to recover their Aura between matches ensured the fairest possible fight in each round.

But it didn't make it any less frustrating that she was doing a full day's worth of work on the day of the semi-finals. Even with the pre-show festivities, the fact that there were only two matches today meant that it would be a miracle if the crowd stuck around even for a full 90 minutes.

And that was assuming there would still be two matches.

The elevator rolled to a stop and the doors swished open to reveal Ozpin's office bathed in the light afternoon sun. Ozpin's empty office. It wasn't strange that he wasn't there—indeed, some days Glynda wished he was a little easier to track down—but it was strange that he wasn't there when he was supposed to be. Even stranger for him to leave his office without locking the elevators.

She stepped into the office proper, heels clicking against the tile as she swept her gaze over the room.

"Professor?"

"Here, Glynda," came Ozpin's voice, from somewhere behind and... above her?

Glynda turned, sweeping her gaze up until she spied Ozpin on the maintenance balcony that ringed his office. What's more, he was standing on the railing, perched with all the confidence of a man on level ground while he stared at the clockwork ticking away before him.

Glynda stared. Then she rolled her eyes. She had no idea who he was showing off for, but it certainly wasn't her.

"You realize, Professor, that your office already represents the highest occupied space in the entire city?" She lifted a hand to adjust her glasses. "Surely you're not determined to somehow make yourself even taller."

That got a snort of laughter out of Ozpin, and a shake of the head. He tucked his cane under one arm and bent his knees, prompting Glynda to take several steps back and allow Ozpin the clearance to hop down to his office floor. And hop down he did, landing with a crouch that made the jump look easy.

"I'm still quite satisfied with my office's location, Glynda." Ozpin straightened up as he spoke, making a show of brushing invisible dust from his shoulder. "The clock gears simply made an unusual noise the other day. I was attempting to locate the cause."

"You do recall that the considerable budget for CCT Tower repairs covers the clocktower as well, yes?"

At this, Ozpin only smiled. "What's the point in putting my office in the 'highest occupied space' in Vale if I can't even perch in the rafters?"

Glynda rolled her eyes again. That was not the reason and she knew it. However, she also knew she wouldn't be getting anything else out of him. If he wanted her to know he would have said something, and if she asked now he would just deflect. Better to simply ignore it.

And just as Glynda knew there was no point in pressing, Ozpin seemed to know that she knew that. He tapped his cane against the floor as he strode towards his desk.

"More Vytal Festival reports?"

"Something like that." Glynda followed after Ozpin. As he settled himself in his chair, she laid a file on his desk. "James is insisting that Mr. Wukong not compete tonight."

Ozpin frowned. "I thought we were in agreement that he'd been framed?"

"We are. However, James's IT teams have been unable to stop the video from spreading. He's worried that allowing him to compete without clearing his name first will spread 'undue unrest'."

A slow sigh escaped Ozpin. He leaned forward, propping an elbow against the desk and his head in his hand. His fingers were mostly hidden under his hair, but she could see his hand flex as he massaged his thumb against his temple.

"And has he considered that forbidding him from competing will simply confirm his guilt in the eyes of most?"

"The point was raised," Glynda said, and she could hear the icy irritation in her tone. "But the Council was quite eager to defer to James, and Leo has been no help at all in advocating on Mr. Wukong's behalf. When he even answers my calls it's to fret about medical care and how hard it is to get in touch with Mr. Wukong's family in Vacuo."

Ozpin hummed. "And Ms. Xiao Long was the one to bring the irregularity to James's attention..."

"She was. She claimed to have noticed during her match." Glynda huffed out a very inelegant snort. "Apparently that was the cause of her grandstanding after the match."

At least Yang had seemed embarrassed to admit to it. That morning Glynda had tracked down Team RWBY solely for the sake of lecturing Weiss for vanishing from the hospital, and then forcing her to return in order to check herself out properly. It was only afterwards that she thought to ask Yang for more details about how she had realized Mercury had prosthetics. The girl's eyes had gone wide as saucers, and she'd fumbled through some explanation about only noticing towards the end of their match, and how she'd just been excited to win against someone with 'robot legs'. Honestly.

It occurred to Glynda that the silence (or, well, as much silence as there ever was in Ozpin's perpetually ticking office) after her last comment had stretched on too long. Ozpin was still sitting there, bent over his desk with his thumb rubbing circles against his temple.

"Professor?" No response. "Professor." More silence. "Ozpin."

Ozpin jolted upright, eyes wide and blinking. He stared up at Glynda, then shook his head and folded his hands in front of him.

"Sorry, Glynda," he said, and then he said no more. Once again, Glynda knew she was unlikely to get anything out of him even if she pushed. But something about just leaving that little moment unaddressed didn't sit right with her.

"Professor, if there's something—"

There was a heavy clunk above her, followed by a second, softer click, both of which were undercut by a faint but shrill grinding noise. Glynda blinked and turned, lips parted in a tiny 'o' as she stared up at the clock tower gears.

"That is an unusual noise," she murmured.

Behind her, Ozpin said nothing.

Chapter Text

"Are you the only two that remember?" Jaune asked, and Yang and Weiss both nodded their heads. "Did you tell Ruby and Blake?" Jaune followed up, and this time Yang and Weiss both shook their heads. Jaune heaved a sigh of relief. "Okay. Good."

"Wait, hold on." Yang held her hands up in a 'T' shape. The sunset glinted off her gauntlets in a way that was familiar, and did not glint off her arm in a way that left Jaune feeling off-kilter. "Timeout. We had our own reasons for not spilling the beans. What's yours?"

"Well..." Jaune scuffed a hand through his hair. He admittedly hadn't given a lot of consideration to that impulse prior to blurting it out, and putting his thoughts in order took a second. "The Blacksmith is from the Ever After, right? And if there's one thing in the Ever After that's the most important thing, it's choice. And I don't think the Blacksmith would mess with us on purpose, but if we tell Ruby and Blake too much... if we make their choice for them, like I did with the Paper Pleasers..."

He trailed off, shrugging uncomfortably. In the end, the Genial Gems née Paper Pleasers had been fine despite Jaune's extensive interference. But they were Afterans in the Ever After who had a clear understanding of both their purpose prior to Ascending and their desired purpose after Ascending. Neither Ruby nor Blake were Afterans, and this wasn't the Ever After, and this wasn't a choice of Ascension. Maybe nothing would go wrong. But if something did go wrong it was bound to be bad, and they had no way to predict the outcome either way.

He was just theorizing—grasping at straws, even—so it was a relief when a pair of thoughtful frowns crossed Yang and Weiss's expressions. It was less of a relief when they then exchanged a glance that, to Jaune, read as distinctly nervous.

"What?" he demanded, his voice crackling with unease.

"We had a different theory," Weiss explained.

("Weiss figured it out," Yang cut in, but Weiss ignored her.)

"I got memories of the future when I was talking to my sister, and Yang got them after her match with Mercury. Jaune, you remember the Blacksmith told us we were going 'when we were needed most', right?"

Jaune did. He drew in a sharp breath.

"I was talking to Pyrrha," he said, voice barely more than a whisper. Weiss gave him a look so full of sympathy he had to blink against the sudden burning in his eyes. Yang gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze and he sniffled in response.

"See, we didn't know that." Yang let her hand fall from Jaune's shoulder. "Except for a few specific times, we have no idea where you're 'supposed' to be today."

"We only have a vague idea even for Blake and Ruby," Weiss interjected.

"Right. So we didn't want to say anything in case we said the wrong thing and they changed what they were normally doing."

"Exactly. We were worried what might happen if the rest of us aren't—"

"—'where' we're needed 'when' we're needed," Jaune finished, and Weiss gave him a firm nod.

"Exactly."

Jaune blew out a shaky breath. He had jumped right to the idea of choice, but the matter of timing hadn't occurred to him at all. If he'd missed his conversation with Pyrrha would he have gotten the chance to help her again? Would he ever get a chance to recall the future at all?

He didn't know, and that was scarier than a definitive 'no'.

"Yeah," he finally managed, voice cracking again. "Okay, good call. So—" He blinked. "Wait. Why did you guys look so nervous, then?"

"We knew we couldn't pull this off without them—or you—but we weren't really thinking about the choice thing." Yang spread her hands. "You heard about Sun, yeah?"

"Yeah, I—oh!" Jaune jolted, eyes wide. "Wait, that was a setup! Is he okay?"

"For now. They've got him under house arrest." Yang let her hands fall to her side and flexed her right wrist. "And yeah, it was a setup. I told Ironwood that Mercury had prosthetics, but that means Ruby and Blake already know to be suspicious of Cinder and her team."

"And we told them where to be tonight," Weiss finished, her tone bordering on outright misery and her brow wrinkled with a frown. "We agreed Ruby and Yang would keep an eye on things at the tournament, while Blake and I stayed at the festival grounds."

"Oh."

"Yeah. 'Oh'."

Jaune lapsed into silence, arms folded and one toe tapping against the ground. He started pacing, muttering words that not even he bothered paying attention to. His thoughts were racing but not towards any sort of coherent conclusion. They rolled around like marbles, bouncing harmlessly off one another before shooting off into random directions. After a few moments he gave up. He dropped into a crouch, curling in on himself and lacing his fingers behind his head.

"What are you doing?" Yang asked.

"Trying to not have a panic attack," Jaune replied, his voice muffled.

"... Is it working?"

Jaune sniffled.

"No," he squeaked.

There was the sound of footsteps and then two hands reached out for him, one on each shoulder. Jaune sucked in a sharp, shaking breath. Then he sprang back to his feet with an anxious bounce; Yang and Weiss's hands fell away from his shoulders.

"Weiss." He turned to look down at her. "Was it just you and Winter when you remembered? Not the rest of Team RWBY?"

To this, Weiss nodded. "It was just us, period. There wasn't anyone else in the pavilion."

"Okay... Yang was in public, but she was basically alone with Mercury, too. And the same was true with me and Pyrrha. So..." He trailed off, grasping. Even if he saw the pattern it wasn't quite clicking into place for him.

"So..." Weiss chewed at her bottom lip. "So maybe that pattern will hold true, too? And if it does, and if the Blacksmith sent us here because of choices we're making, then maybe it doesn't matter why we ended up in the right place."

"Just so long as we're still the ones making the choice." Yang rolled her shoulder again. "But you guys realize it's too late to change things up anyway, right? We can't exactly go tell Blake and Ruby 'never mind'."

"Yeah," Jaune agreed. His tone was even and level, in stark contrast to his nerves. Maybe the unknown metaphysical consequences of this would still go pear-shaped, but he couldn't see any major mistakes they may have made. "Right. And—I think you guys made the right choice, for what it's worth. We can't do this without Ruby and Blake."

Yang and Weiss nodded in unison once more. Yang's expression remained focused and tense, but the misery in Weiss's face finally melted away into relief. Jaune gave them both a smile that was nowhere near as shaky as he felt.

"So what's the plan?

Weiss was not, by any definition of the word, embarrassed by the plan she and Yang had come up with. They had limited time, even more limited resources, and some truly bizarre pitfalls to be wary of. Their plan was better than something nearly anyone else could have come up with.

But Jaune wasn't just 'anyone else'. He was like Ruby. And like Ruby, he was a leader, a thinker, a planner. He could look at a seemingly impossible situation and snatch a solution out of nowhere. Sure, that solution might be bizarre, risky, and difficult to pull off, but it would work. And when you looked at him like he was some sort of genius, he'd blink and shrug it off like anyone could have figured it out with a little bit of time. There was no one in all of Remnant Weiss trusted more than Ruby when it came to leading them out of a bad situation, but Jaune was an undeniable silver medalist in that category.

So even though she wasn't embarrassed by the contents of their plan, it was a strange mixture of awkward and relieving to share what they'd come up with. She wasn't sure if she wanted Jaune to give his rousing approval, or if she wanted him to immediately spot the flaws and come up with something better.

In the end he didn't do either. He just nodded.

"It's simple, but that's a good thing. I think flexibility is going to be most important." He flicked his gaze between the two of them. "Backup plans?"

"Nope," Yang replied. "When they couldn't get me they went for Sun instead, but the trick wasn't exactly different."

"We think they called in Neopolitan for it," Weiss explained. "Emerald's illusions can't be caught on camera, and Blake said Sun swears he wasn't even in that hallway."

"Right," Jaune murmured, a thoughtful frown crossing his face. "Even though they must be rigging the roulette they don't have a lot of room for error, do they?"

"And we know they have to set up the match between Pyrrha and Penny tonight," Weiss added. Jaune blinked and looked at her, but within seconds his puzzled expression gave way to understanding.

"Because Yang is too skilled!" He looked delighted with himself for making the connection. Yang gave him a wink and a pair of finger guns of (what Weiss assumed was) appreciation. "If she fights either of them the risk that she'll win is too high."

"Damn right it is." Yang's tone was smug, though her expression was a bit too serious to fit. "So we can practically guarantee I'll be free to run interference. And now I can go look for Emerald in the stands while we leave Jaune to interfere with the match directly."

"Wait, what—?"

A pair of alarms went off, one each on Yang and Weiss's Scrolls. All three of them gave a surprised jerk. Then Yang shook her head, turning the alarm off with a muttered curse.

"I'll explain at the arena. Come on, that alarm means we're cutting it close."

"And Blake and Ruby are going to get suspicious," Weiss added, which fortunately seemed to be enough to get Jaune to drop the subject.

The three of them broke into a light jog, moving as a group for the docks. The sun was balanced perfectly on the horizon now, perched there like an enormous, round bird and bathing the campus in golden light. A few students called out to Yang as she passed, wishing her luck or teasing her about running late. She met the former with thanks, and the latter with smug declarations that they wouldn't dare to start without her. The behavior was hardly out of character for her, but it was a marked change from the quiet, almost broody mood she'd been in the previous evening. Maybe she was just faking it (in fact, she probably was) but Weiss thought even that was a good sign. Keeping up appearances took focus and energy. If Yang couldn't even handle this much...

But she could handle this much, and even make it look easy. Weiss knew how hard that was, so she let herself take heart.

Neither Blake nor Ruby were tall enough to be easily seen through the crowd, which Ruby apparently anticipated. She was halfway up one of the lamp posts lining the path to the dock, eyes shielded against the setting sun (even though said sun was at her back). As soon as she saw the three of them approaching she started waving enthusiastically, then turned to call down something to someone—Blake, presumably—standing on the ground. She didn't dismount until Yang lifted a hand in an answering wave, at which point she exploded into rose petals and zipped back into the crowd.

When Weiss, Yang, and Jaune finally drew into earshot, Ruby shouted, "You guys better not have been conspiring a snack run without us!"

"Don't be absurd," Weiss replied, injecting as much indignity into her tone as she could manage. Luckily, she had time to come up with an excuse for Jaune's involvement on the walk over. "Jaune noticed something strange about my match against FNKI, and he thought that video of Sun was strange. There wasn't keeping much from him after that."

Ruby blinked, but she seemed to accept this easily enough. In fact, once a second or two had passed she positively lit up at the news.

"Does that mean we've got JNPR backing us up?"

"That's—" Weiss started, and then she cut herself off. "Well—"

"No," Jaune interjected. "I know that... uh," he cast an uneasy glance at the crowds surrounding them, "handling things is what really matters. But this tournament is really important to Pyrrha, too. I told them to keep an eye out, but nothing else. If I'm gonna be distracted I at least want some of her team to be completely focused on her."

"Are you sure that's the best idea?" Blake asked, frowning.

"No," Jaune admitted, which earned him an arched brow and an appraising look from Blake. Too appraising, in Weiss's opinion, but Jaune didn't seem to notice. "But it was the best I could think of."

"At least they know something's up," Ruby chirped, prompting an uneasy smile and an even more uneasy nod from Jaune. "What'd you notice about Weiss's match, anyway?"

"Uh, well—"

"The same thing I did," Weiss blurted out. "That it was strange that we'd end up paired with a team that has grudges that personal against the Schnee Dust Company."

"He just doesn't want to admit that Weiss is such an Ice Queen he didn't notice right away," Yang added, prompting a defeated Hey... from Jaune and an indignant Hey! from Weiss, which in turn prompted a burst of giggling from Ruby.

"Right," Blake murmured, in a too-appraising tone to match her too-appraising look from a moment ago. "In that case, we should probably get going."

At that everyone broke into nods, agreements, farewells, and well-wishes. Then Ruby bounded off towards the air taxi, Yang and Jaune tailing along behind her. Weiss and Blake only lingered long enough to wave goodbye before turning and setting off for the fairgrounds.

They walked in silence at first, which Weiss reminded herself was fine. It was normal. They hadn't spoken much on the walk to the fairgrounds during their first Vytal Festival, either. She was definitely reading too much into Blake's thoughtful looks earlier, too. Blake was always looking thoughtful and appraising a situation. Weiss just hadn't known her well enough to notice at the time, and thus couldn't quite manage to recall many of those sorts of moments from Beacon-era Blake. It was fine. She was—

"Weiss?"

Weiss nearly lept out of her skin at the sound of her name, and she turned a gaze she could tell was too wide-eyed to Blake.

"Huh?" she asked, the very picture of eloquence.

"Are you alright...?"

"Oh. Yes, I'm just..." She gestured vaguely, fumbling for an answer. None came to her right away, and she trailed off. She turned her gaze to the setting sun, hoping it might somehow have an answer—and somehow, it did. "... I was just thinking... Even though we're here to help, it's going to be dangerous tonight. We can't warn everyone because then the people we're trying to stop would just change their plans and put even more people in danger. But this could be the last sunset some of these people ever see and they don't even realize it. And I just... I wish we could tell them without making everything worse."

She finally turned her gaze towards Blake, expecting and even hoping to see Blake fixing her with a confused or exasperated look. But instead there was only sympathy in Blake's eyes.

"It could be our last sunset, too," she pointed out, and her tone was so gentle Weiss thought she might dissolve on the spot. "But that's why we became Huntresses, isn't it? So that we can carry burdens like that in their stead."

"And so we can share each other's burdens," Weiss was quick to add. "I know I haven't exactly been..."

"Easy to get along with?" Blake supplied, smiling faintly.

"A decent person," Weiss countered, prompting a startled blink from Blake. "Or easy to get along with, or very open myself, but—look. The point is, I know we aren't partners, and I know I haven't exactly earned your trust. But I hope you can rely on me just as much as I rely on you, okay?"

To this Blake only stared, eyes wide and lips parted. She said nothing, and Weiss fought the urge to break the sudden silence.

"Ms. Schnee, Ms. Belladonna," someone called, and the only reason Weiss didn't whirl around and snarl at them for interrupting this moment was because she recognized the voice as belonging to one Glynda Goodwitch.

As it was Weiss still whirled around, but it was much less indignant and much more guilty.

"I already checked out of the hospital properly," Weiss blurted. Glynda drew up short, blinking.

"Yes, I'm aware," she said after a moment, reaching up to adjust her glasses. "Has Ms. Xiao Long already left for the tournament?"

Weiss glanced at Blake and found that Blake was already glancing at her. The two looked back to Glynda and shook their heads in tandem, prompting a sigh from the professor.

"What's wrong?" Weiss asked.

"I just got a call from Professor L—" Glynda sighed again and shook her head, seemingly heedless of the way tension shot through Weiss's frame. "No, it doesn't matter. Just inform Ms. Xiao Long that General Ironwood will wish to speak to her after the tournament." And with that said, Glynda turned to leave.

"Wait!" Weiss lunged forward, grabbing Glynda's wrist and yanking her to a stop. "Professor Lionheart called you? Is it about Mercury?!"

"Ms. Schnee! Don't yank me like that."

"I'm sorry, but please! This is important!"

"It's none of your concern, is what it is."

"Of course it's my concern," Weiss snapped, and not even the sight of Glynda's brows shooting up was enough to make her nervous. "Sun is innocent and the General is going to think Yang is a liar!"

"You don't even know what the phone call was about," Glynda replied, her tony positively icy.

"Well I can guess!" Weiss finally released Glynda's wrist, propping her fists on her hips. "You wouldn't be looking for Yang right before the semi-finals unless it was important, so it must have to do with Mercury!"

"Please, Professor," Blake cut in, settling a hand on Weiss's shoulder. Her tone was much gentler than Weiss, almost plaintive, and that seemed to finally put a damper on Glynda's irritated expression.

"... Very well," she replied, and she explained.

As the air taxi glided to a stop at the Arena, Yang lowered her Scroll and ended the call. She could feel herself scowling, and even if she couldn't she could have guessed from the looks on Jaune and Ruby's faces.

"What?" Ruby asked.

"Weiss just ran into Professor Goodwitch." Yang shouldered her way past another student, probably too roughly, and stepped through the airship door. Jaune and Ruby hurried after her. Yang waited until they were clear of the crowd to continue. "Apparently Lionheart called to confirm that Mercury went straight to the hospital once they landed in Haven."

She glanced over her shoulder as she explained. Shock was evident on both Ruby and Jaune's expressions, though Ruby looked like she was just shocked while Jaune seemed closer horrified.

"Then..." Ruby's shocked expression started to give way to confusion and worry. "He really is hurt?"

"No, he's not," Yang snapped, and Ruby and Jaune both blinked at the viciousness in her tone. Yang couldn't bring herself to care. This was a trick, and she wasn't going to let Cinder and her little conspiracy get away with it. "I wasn't imagining things. Mercury's legs are prosthetics. This has to be part of their trick—"

"Woah, Yang!" Ruby threw up her hands in a defensive gesture, while Jaune slid his arm between the two of them.

"No one's accusing you of lying," Jaune said, his tone firm and steady.

"Yeah," Ruby agreed, nodding so fast her whole body was vibrating. "It's just—doesn't this just mean Sun and Mercury were both targeted?"

"Yeah!" Jaune let his arm fall, already on board Ruby's train of thought before Yang even had a chance to figure it out. "We don't know that both of his legs are prosthetics, right? Maybe—" He shot Yang a hard look. "—the leg he injured is different from the one you noticed during the fight?"

"What Jaune said! Besides," and here Ruby laughed, like she'd just realized something funny, "if this was part of the setup then that would mean a headmaster was in on it! That's crazy, right?"

"... Right," Yang mumbled, and she turned to stride towards the Amity locker rooms. "Crazy."

Once Glynda had departed and the call to Yang was concluded, the silence between Weiss and Blake felt even heavier than before. Without being able to directly name Lionheart a traitor all Weiss had been able to do was convince Glynda to at least wait until after tonight's matches to pass the news on to Ironwood. It turned out that the resulting feelings of inadequacy were a real mood killer.

Weiss and Blake shuffled along without so much as a sigh or sideways glance at one another. And what else was there to do, really? Weiss had no idea what else she could say at this point. It wasn't like the situation was that different from last time, and it wasn't like Blake suddenly didn't believe that there was something suspicious going on. It just sucked, she thought, that someone like Lionheart could throw doubt over their whole story like that.

That heavy, cloying silence hung over them until they reached the fairgrounds.

"Weiss," Blake finally murmured. Weiss glanced towards her, shoulders tense. "What you said back there, about wanting me to rely on you?"

Weis blinked, scrambling to catch up now that the conversation had gone in a direction she wasn't expecting. "Oh, um... yes! Yes, I'd like that. If you could do that. I-If you feel like it, of course!"

Weiss wasn't trying to be funny, but a little flicker of relief sparked in her at the sight of Blake's smile.

"I'd like that, too," she agreed. "I'm... not very good at that sort of thing. Trusting people, that is. But if it's you then... I want to try."

"Man!" Sun chirped, prompting a startled screech from Weiss. "It's great to see you two getting along!"

Blake and Weiss both whirled around, the former with a great deal more grace than the latter, and stared up at Sun. He was perched in a tree at the edge of the fairgrounds, beaming down at them.

"Sun?!" Blake demanded, sounding equal parts stunned and scandalized.

"You're supposed to be in your room!" Weiss snapped. Sun, of course, only laughed.

"Yeah, but that's boring!" He hopped down from the tree, effortless as ever. "Besides, it's not like I'm guilty! Even if I'm out of the tournament, why shouldn't I come enjoy the fairgrounds?"

"That's not the point!" Blake stormed forward. She grabbed Sun's wrist and yanked him behind the tree he just dismounted. Weiss hurried after them. "It won't matter if you're innocent if you get caught breaking curfew."

"Pfft, come on!" Sun flapped a dismissive hand; his tail gave a careless flick to match. "You think I should stay cooped up inside when I didn't do anything?"

"That's not what I meant."

"What she means," Weiss cut in, "is that Vale isn't in charge of security right now. Atlas is."

Sun started at her. "... And? They're still just regular cops, right?"

"Regular cops that are completely loyal to Ironwood!" Weiss threw her hands in the air, as if flailing them around might somehow make her point for her. "This isn't like Vale, where the Huntsmen answer to Professor Ozpin and the police force answers to the council and some answer to both. They all answer to Ironwood. If a single soldier or drone sees you they're going to try to arrest you first and ask questions later."

"So I'll just run away!"

Blake groaned, though to Weiss's ears it sounded more like a growl. "And they'll just report you for breaking curfew and resisting arrest."

"Well..." Sun waved a hand, but in the fading light of the sunset Weiss could see there was a frown creeping across his face. "... You guys are pretty worked up about this. I thought you were sure I'd be fine cause of the leg situation."

"That's..." Blake slid a glance towards Weiss, uncertainty plain in her face. Weiss opened her mouth, then faltered. It was true that the call from Lionheart had shifted the balance towards 'Sun is guilty', but Salem's gaggle of minions probably weren't actually worried about Sun. Now that she thought about it she would bet anything they were just trying to keep attention off of Emerald and Mercury, and keep Ironwood looking in the wrong direction.

She was caught up in Blake's frustration and worry for Sun, but... none of this really mattered, did it? Cinder would enact her plan tonight and the issue of Sun's guilt would be dropped entirely. At most he might distract some of the guards, but they would all turn their attention to the Grimm and the White Fang once they showed up. And if Sun was here when that happened, and if he stayed around long enough for Adam to show up...

"... Things have changed," Weiss explained, after a pause that went on a beat too long. "Lionheart told Professor Goodwitch that Mercury landed in Haven and went straight to the hospital."

"Wait, so he is injured?" Concern crossed Sun's expression for a moment, before it was wiped away by confusion. "Hold on, doesn't that mean Ironwood's looking for me right now anyway?"

"I don't think so. I asked Professor Goodwitch to wait until after the tournament to tell him."

"You think she'll listen?"

"She said she would."

"And I don't think she's lying," Blake added. "She's not the sort of person to say one thing and then do another. And she seemed... kind of irritated, when she talked about him."

"So..." Sun expression slowly bloomed into a grin. "That's all the more reason for me to enjoy tonight while I still can, right?"

He looked between the two of them, eager and hopeful like he was asking for permission. Blake scrubbed at her face and Weiss heaved a sigh.

"Fine," Weiss grumbled. "But you have to stay close to us, okay?"

Chapter Text

Ruby Rose was not a suspicious person. Not in either sense of the word. Not only was she a perfectly respectable, upstanding citizen with extremely normal knees, she wasn't easily given to feeling suspicious of other people.

Like this thing with Mercury and his team. She liked Emerald and Mercury. Mercury was a little weird, sure, but he didn't seem like a bad person. And he definitely didn't seem bad or weird enough to try to frame Sun for attacking him. So she wasn't happy to hear that he was actually hurt, but in a way it was sort of a relief. If he was really hurt, then he wasn't trying to frame anybody.

Of course, that relief brought with it a different sort of bad news. Because if Mercury was really hurt, then someone really did attack him, and it seemed like there were no real suspects aside from Sun. And Ruby had to admit, if she was forced to choose whether she thought Sun attacking Mercury or Mercury faking the attack was more likely, then she'd pick the latter. So if Sun was blamed, an innocent person would be getting in trouble.

But even if Mercury hadn't faked the injury and it turned out Sun wasn't involved, it didn't solve the other issue she was having: Yang and Weiss and Jaune were all acting weird.

It was the most subtle with Weiss. Ruby would say she was 'more emotional' right now, but it wasn't like Weiss was an unemotional person. The emotions were different from usual, though. She was less angry and indignant than she was scared and worried; when she was angry and indignant, it was almost like she was putting on a show.

Jaune had started acting strange most recently—barely even an hour ago—and he was still almost normal. Nine times out of ten he was still his usual dorky, awkward self. Then out of nowhere he'd zero in on something, talking and acting like it was life-or-death and he was an experienced veteran. And then it was right back to dorky awkwardness.

But out of all of them, Ruby was the most worried about Yang. Ever since her match with Mercury she'd been... well, brooding. Ruby knew perfectly well that Yang could sink into bad moods, even get down in the dumps. But like with Weiss, this was different. She was angry, short-tempered, and snappish. And not in a 'I'm about to burst into flames and cave your face in' sort of way. That was Yang's usual approach to anger, loud and explosive. This anger was quieter, more focused. Worried, even.

It made Ruby nervous. It made her suspicious. And if she disliked being suspicious of casual acquaintances like Mercury and Sun, being suspicious of her sister and her partner and her best friend was outright agonizing.

It didn't help that, when it came time for them to split up and take up their positions throughout Amity Colosseum, Yang and Jaune left together. They reminded Ruby (for the 5th time this hour) to be ready to call her weapon locker at any moment, then gave some excuse about Jaune leaving to speak to his team and Yang heading to wait with the other competitors. But Ruby wasn't an idiot. The three of them had entered on the east side of the Arena and team JNPR always sat on the south side, but he and Yang both turned to go north.

Ruby stared after them, unease twisting in her gut. She trusted them both. Sure was sure that whatever secrets they were keeping, they were still doing the right thing.

But they were keeping secrets. She didn't like that at all.

"I think Ruby's onto us," Jaune murmured. His voice was low, but still loud enough to echo across the empty back halls of the arena. Yang heaved a sigh so deep she felt her soul trying to leave her body.

"I figured she would be." Yang shook her head, slowing to a stop. They had reached the door that would bring them out to the field properly. "Kinda hard to tell if you're supposed to be fourteen or forty."

Jaune sputtered wordlessly for a moment before he finally managed to spit out, "I'm nine— seven. Seventeen! Not fourteen!"

Yang snickered. "See? That's more like it."

Jaune heaved a soul-dispelling sigh of his own. "You're not exactly the most convincing 'Yang circa two years ago' yourself."

"I know." Yang brief bit of amusement was snuffed out like a candle.She pushed on the door until it cracked open. The din of the crowd crept into the hallway, even though no one was cheering yet. "But we don't have to worry about pulling it off anymore. Everyone else is where they need to be, so now..."

She felt Jaune's hand land on her shoulder; it was much more comforting than she wanted to admit right now.

"We got this, Yang. Emerald has to be somewhere in the front rows. Penny and Pyrrha are both too good to not notice me even if I can't get close. Weiss remembers how everything happened at the fairgrounds." He gave her shoulder a squeeze. "And you know we can count on Blake and Ruby."

"I know," Yang insisted, and she did know. There was no one she trusted more than the two of them. "I just... I can't wait for all this secrecy to be over, you know?"

"Yeah," Jaune agreed, and his voice was so soft and understanding that Yang surged forward, pushing her way through the door.

"Don't forget to call your team," she called over her shoulder, and then she set off for the stairs that would take her up into the stands. Time to track down Emerald.

Ruby really thought her nerves would have settled by the time she got to her seat. Yet here they were, still jumping around under his skin like a bunch of annoying little ants. But she couldn't help it! No matter how hard she thought about the situation, it still wasn't making any sense. What would have Weiss, Yang, and Jaune so worked up and uneasy? What would they have noticed that she and Blake didn't? And why wouldn't they just tell them what else was on their minds? Weiss and Yang had shared all their other suspicions, after all; the weirdness in their match against Team CFVY, and the weird coincidence of RWBY's match against FNKI. And Jaune had called Weiss when he noticed something weird all on his own.

But that was weird, too. Why did he call Weiss instead of his own team? Heck, why did he call Weiss instead of her? Ruby didn't think it was too egotistical to wonder that. She and Jaune were their respective team leaders, and besties on top of that! She wasn't jealous that he called Weiss—truthfully, she wasn't—but she was confused! And she hated being confused.

She wasn't even sure what she was supposed to be looking out for anymore. Torchwick was locked up. Emerald and Mercury were back in Haven. She hadn't seen so much as a shadow of that girl who broke into the CCT tower. Even Sun was supposed to be under house arrest.

She slumped back in her chair, focusing on the crowd across the arena from her. She would do what she was asked, of course, but ohhh she had questions for her team when this was all over. For now she let her gaze sweep over the sea of faces and hair colors across from her. Blond hair, purple hair, gray hair but not Mercury, blue, brown, white, blond, red, black, green, red, brown—

Wait. Green? Ruby jerked her gaze back to the green hair and question, leaning forward and narrowing her eyes. She felt her heart rate spike as something heavy and cold settled in her stomach.

"Emerald's... here?"

Sun's idea of 'sneaking' made Weiss want to scream. His entire idea seemed to involve buttoning up his shirt (she was surprised his shirt even had buttons) and loosely wrapping his tail around his waist. And if that wasn't bad enough, Blake apparently lost her mind because she agreed it was a good disguise.

And if that wasn't bad enough, one more terrible thing happened: it worked. No one so much as glanced at Sun as she and Blake led him through the fairgrounds. They reached their preferred ramen stand without incident, sat down in a row without incident, and placed their orders without incident. Finally, Weiss heaved a sigh so deep she felt her soul trying to leave her body.

"I cannot believe that actually worked," she grumbled.

"Why not?" Sun lifted a hand to undo the top button of his shirt. "Blake's bow works."

"Blake," Weiss sniffed. "Knows how to be both quiet and subtle."

"It's still the bow that does most of the work, Weiss." Blake folded her hands on the cart countertop. "If you're trying to look for someone, you look for their most distinctive feature first. And for most faunus, that's whatever our trait is."

"Personally," Sun interjected, undoing another button on his shirt. "I think my chiseled abs are a more distinctive feature than my tail."

"I think that dumb look on your face has them both beat," Weiss snapped. Sun, of course, only laughed, and Weiss shook her head. She stole a glance at the television mounted on the cart, but it was still playing the pre-match commentary and advertisements. "Just... try to not draw too much attention."

"I promise," Sun chirped, and he undid a third button on his shirt.

Ruby slipped through the crowd, crept down the stairs, and scurried towards the door leading into a maintenance hallway. If that was really Emerald, if she was really here, then Ruby had to get to the other side of the arena and— and—

And what? she demanded of herself, shoving her way through the door. Ask her what she was doing? Ask why she wasn't in Haven? Ask if Mercury was okay?

"All right," came Oobleck's voice, muffled but still audible through the arena walls. "It's now time to begin the randomization process for our next fight!"

Ruby shook her head and hurried forward. Then she sucked in a sharp breath and skittered to a stop; a door further down the hallway was swinging open, and through it stepped—

"Mercury...?"

The Scroll only rang once before Nora's voice came blaring through, screaming, "Jaune! Where the heck are you?!"

Jaune reeled back from the Scroll, flinching. Nora always yelled when she answered, which is why he'd called Ren. He probably should have guessed that Nora would answer for him.

"I'm at the arena, Nora, but listen—" Jaune cracked the door out to the field open just wide enough to peek through, then let it fall shut again. "—Team RWBY noticed something kind of weird."

"Weird? Weird how?"

"It's kind of too complicated to explain? But listen, they think something might go down during tonight's match. I need you guys to keep an eye out, okay? Be ready to call your lockers the second something goes wrong."

"Wait, seriously? Jaune—"

"I know, I know." Jaune thunked his head against the wall of the maintenance hallway. He needed to get off the phone as possible, but talking to Nora, just hearing her again after so long... "Nora, I promise I can explain later, but—"

He heard the arena intercom crackle to life, followed by Oobleck's rapidfire announcement that the roulette was about to begin.

"—please, just keep an eye on Pyrrha for me."

Mercury was just standing there, perfectly fine. Not injured, not even upset about being caught. He was smirking at her, his posture casual and cocky.

"You—" Ruby sucked in a sharp gasp. That heavy, icy feeling in her stomach was back. "You're not—"

Port took over for Oobleck, announcing: "It looks like our first contender is... Penny Polendina from Atlas... "

"This was a setup!" Ruby shouted, and Mercury just scoffed in response. Ruby clenched her fists until her tendons popped and her nails cut into her palms. "You're not hurt at all! And Emerald— Professor Lionheart—"

That forced the smirk off of Mercury's face, at least, but Ruby didn't have a chance to revel in it.

"And her opponent will be... Pyrrha Nikos from Beacon!"

This couldn't be happening. This really was a setup.

Mercury really had framed Sun.

He and Emerald really had betrayed them.

Their team really did have something planned.

Something planned for tonight.

Something planned for this match...

Something...

The icy dread in Ruby's stomach spread, creeping through her spine and up her throat and down her limbs.

"No," she whispered. A shiver crept through her frame. Mercury's stupid smirk came back.

"Ooh," he crooned, putting on an expression of exaggerated sympathy. "Polarity versus metal. That could be bad."

Ruby sucked in a sharp breath.

"I—"

"Where will this take us?" Ruby asked.

"Not where," the Blacksmith replied. "When—"

Chapter Text

The brilliant light of the Blacksmith's portal faded, and then Ruby Rose was back. Back to herself, back to the hallway, back to this confrontation with—

"Mercury!" She took a step forward, throwing her arms out. Her mind was racing, far ahead of where her ability to speak was, and she was only kind of aware of the words coming out of her mouth. "Leave Vale while you still can!"

Mercury's smirk vanished. "What—"

"We will stop you!" Ruby dropped into a crouch. She didn't even try to reach for Crescent Rose. She already knew it was safely stored in her locker back at Beacon. That must have been why Yang came to the tournament and didn't stay with Blake: as a possible contender she was the only one of them that could get away with carrying her weapon. "And when we do, Salem is going to look for someone to blame! She'll blame Cinder, and Cinder will blame you, so find Emerald and get out of here!"

Mercury's gray eyes got wider and wider as Ruby spoke, and by the end of it he was staring at her with his mouth hanging open.

"How do you—?"

"Fighters," Oobleck called. "Are you ready?"

Ruby let out a frustrated growl.

"Just get out of my way!"

She lunged forward, exploding into a whirlwind of petals. Mercury twisted, leaping into the air, clearly ready for this—

But Ruby was ready, too. Mercury lashed out with a kick, and her single whirlwind split into three. The triplet trails of red petals swerved around him, coalesced back into one, and then coalesced back into Ruby. She hit the ground and broke into a sprint, leaving Mercury swearing in rage behind her.

Ruby didn't remember how long Pyrrha and Penny's match lasted, but she knew it wasn't long. Last time, it had been over long before she escaped these hallways. Penny was already dead, Pyrrha had already reeled back, the crowd's excitement had already morphed into horror. But she'd started running sooner this time, and Mercury hadn't managed to delay her for as long. Was that enough? Could she make it in time?

She didn't know. She couldn't even begin to guess. All she could do was run.

So she ran.

"Three!"

"Three!"

Yang dashed along the perimeter of the field, scanning each row as she ran. She caught the occasional shout and jeer as she passed, audience members annoyed that she was blocking their view of what was bound to be an incredible fight.

And it would be, right up until it ended in slaughter and tragedy. Which Yang was here to stop, but she had to find Emerald first. So she ran, scanning the sea of faces in front of her. She saw plenty of people she recognized, some of whom recognized her in turn.

"Yang!" she heard Nora shout. "What the heck is going on?!"

But Yang didn't answer. She spotted General Ironwood, frowning as an Atlas soldier leaned down to murmur something to him, and ignored him, too. She put on more speed, running until her lungs burned. She just needed to—

There! A flash of green in the crowd. Far—almost on the other side of the arena—but not unreachable. She could make it.

"Two!"

"Two!"

Jaune bumped open the door to the field, slipping through the gap and crouching in the shadow of the stairwell. He could see Pyrrha and Penny as the stage rose into position, Penny bouncing on the balls of her feet and Pyrrha facing her with her usual dignity and poise.

That was different from last time. Pyrrha had been upset last time, more uncertain of herself. Was it better or worse that she seemed more confident now? Would that make the fight longer, or shorter? Would Emerald find a new opportunity to trick her?

He needed to wait, he knew. It wasn't just that he couldn't risk interrupting whatever Ruby or Blake's moment might be; if he tried to interrupt too early, there was too much of a chance that the match would be just restarted and Emerald would have another chance. Penny and Pyrrha's lives were riding on this. Penny's more immediately, to be sure, but Pyrrha's too.

He just needed to wait.

Jaune's heart, already pounding so hard it felt like it was trying to tear its way out of his ribcage, beat faster.

"One!"

"One!"

Weiss was distantly aware of a faint pain in her palms; the feel of her nails biting into her skin, she thought. She must be clenching her fists unreasonably tight for that to happen.

Weiss was distantly aware of Sun's voice, nattering on about some silly incident between him and Neptune. Full of cheer, Sun remarked that he'd never seen Neptune even try try to dance prior to the ball the other week, and that Weiss should be proud of herself for being worth it. Weiss replied with a wordless hum of assent.

Weiss was distantly aware of a hand on her shoulder, and of Blake's voice, soft and worried, calling out to her with, "Weiss?"

Weiss was intently, acutely, painfully aware of the broadcast in front of her. Every subtle movement of Pyrrha and Penny on the screen. Every jump and lilt in Oobleck's voice. Every tiny mote of dust that floated into her line of sight.

There wasn't any room in her head for anything else—save for the desperate, anxious wish she could somehow be two places at once.

"Begin!"

If there was one word Pyrrha would choose to describe Penny, it was brilliant.

She'd seen the other girl fight prior to this, of course. There hadn't been enough time to watch every match, but Pyrrha had made sure to watch all of the quarter-finals yesterday, and she'd found recordings of Penny's previous matches, too. Penny's skill had been plenty evident from afar.

But it was nothing compared to actually fighting her. Every movement she made was beautifully precise, without so much as a single centimeter of wasted effort. Even her dancer-like gestures and flourishes seemed to serve a purpose. Pyrrha thought maybe they were being used to direct her blades—but even if they weren't, they were a nice distraction. The pale cream of Penny's shirt was stark against the dark backdrop of the crowd, and she stood out more than the black blades of her weapon. Pyrrha's gaze kept wanting to skip away from the floating blades, her baser instincts telling her to watch the more obvious movements.

Between resisting those instincts and tracking the flow of the fight, Pyrrha didn't have the focus to spare for anything else. She thought at first that closing the distance between herself and Penny would be the key to victory, but that didn't pan out. Penny clearly preferred mid- and long-ranged combat, but she was more than just 'adequate' at close quarters. Pyrrha twisted and leapt over the furry of blades, rushing towards Penny—and suddenly the blades were in front of her again, a broad gesture from Penny spreading them out to turn away Miló's blade. Then Penny was on the offensive.

Penny's weapon was as graceful and precise as the girl herself. One moment it was acting as a single whole, the blades fanning out into an impenetrable wall before Penny. Then they were two fans, arcing towards Pyrrha one after the other. Then they were whole again, save for the two that split off from the pack to harry Pyrrha like insects. Pyrrha gained the upper hand, striking several critical blows that forced Penny to fall back—and as soon as she had her distance the blades split into groups of three and Pyrrha found herself dodging lasers.

The crowd blurred into a smear of colors. Professor Oobleck's voice faded into muffled nonsense. The crisp autumn air dulled into bland neutrality. It was just the glitter of Penny's weapon in the spotlight, the sound of Pyrrha's own breathing in her ears, the bead of sweat crawling down her temple, and the strange giddiness surging through her. It wasn't just the adrenaline; with each blow she barely deflected, with each strike she didn't quite land, her blood was singing with anticipation, with excitement, with— with—

Joy, she realized. Penny wasn't just a worthy opponent. Her cheery energy was evident in every movement and her beaming smile was as relentless as the girl wearing it. The energy and smile alike were downright infectious. Even as Miló and Akoúo̱ were knocked from her hands, one after another, Pyrrha found herself fighting the urge to smile.

This is going to be so much fun! Penny had declared at the start of their match. Pyrrha had to admit that she was right.

There was no more pain in Weiss's palms. Instead she felt it in her fingers. Her nails were digging into the wood of the ramen cart until her joints and nail beds ached. The match between Penny and Pyrrha was just as she remembered—eerily so, in fact—and she couldn't take another moment of it. She couldn't believe she had ever insisted on going with Blake to the fairgrounds. She should have just let Yang do it. Being down here, only being able to watch through the broadcast, set her nerves on fire and left her no attention to spare for her surroundings.

"Weiss," came Blake's voice again. "What's going on? You and Yang—"

"Hey, blondie!" a new voice interrupted, masculine and authoritative. "I need to see some ID."

"Uh oh," Sun replied.

Jaune saw the flash of green as Penny started shooting laser beams all over the battlefield, and decided that was his cue. He'd waited long enough. He rose to his feet, took a step forward, and was immediately jerked to a stop by a hand in his sweater hood.

"Stop," a familiar voice growled behind him. Jaune twisted around, eyes wide, and stared up into the scowling face of...

"General Ironwood?!" he yelped. "What are you doing down here?"

"I think I'm the one who should be asking that question." Ironwood released Jaune's hood, but the two Atlas soldiers who had followed their general here immediately moved to flank Jaune instead. "I don't know what Ozpin has been teaching his students, but I—"

"Salem knows Penny is a robot," Jaune blurted. While his physical voice delivered this news, his inner voice started screeching things along the lines of, Wait, what, hold on, we're going with that? Jaune had to admit that the inner voice had a point. Ironwood wasn't exactly a stable or trusting guy.

At least Jaune probably wasn't as stunned by his own words as Ironwood was. The man stared down at him, lips parted and blue eyes enormous.

"How— that's—"

"It doesn't matter! She knows, and she's going to trick Pyrrha into destroying Penny!" Jaune lurched forward, fisting his hands into Ironwood's lapels. "You have to stop the match!"

"I—" Ironwood flicked his gaze to the arena. The shock started to fade away from his expression, eaten away at the edges by fear.

Then something happened. His expression smoothed out. He blinked. His eyes went dull. And he lifted two fingers to his ears.

"Security. Engage emergency protocols and halt the match."

Jaune heaved a sigh of relief. Then a frown etched itself into Ironwood's brow and anxiety surged through Jaune anew.

"What do you mean, you can't?"

Jaune whirled around and dashed towards the arena stage. The Atlas soldiers both moved to block him; Jaune bodily bowled one of them over, but the other managed to brace in time to stop Jaune in his tracks. Jaune's shoes—his stupid sneakers with no traction at all, how had he ever thought these were a good idea?—skidded uselessly over the floor. He suddenly, desperately wished he'd thought to tell Yang that they should both wait on the ground to interrupt, posted at two different doors. But it was already too late.

"Pyrrha!"

Yang wasn't going to make it.

She hadn't watched the match between Pyrrha and Penny the first time around, and hadn't even found the stomach to watch any of the replays. She didn't actually know how long the fight lasted before Emerald ended it with her grisly trick. But some newscast or another had rather sensationally referred to it as 'the most influential 90 seconds of the century', so she knew it didn't last long, and she knew wasn't going to make it.

She could see Emerald. See how she leaned forward, see how she was frozen in place, see that she wasn't cheering. She could see that she and Jaune should have both come up here and set up a pincer maneuver to corner her. She could see that Emerald was too far away for her to reach alone.

She could see that she wasn't going to make it.

Pyrrha reached out with Polarity, grabbing hold of Miló and Akoúo̱ and dragging them towards her—only for Penny to knock them both away with a pair of expertly placed strikes. As the spear and shield skittered out of easy reach Pyrrha thought to herself, for the first time in years, I might lose this fight.

The thought should have filled her with dread. It had been years since she lost a fight, and even longer since she'd taken any position lower than 2nd in a tournament. This could be her very first bronze medal ever. That should have filled her with disquiet and shame. But this is going to be so much fun, Penny had said, and it was.

And that delight had revealed something to her. She wasn't standing in this arena as Pyrrha Nikos, reigning champion, or even Pyrrha Nikos, the Invincible Girl. This fight wasn't about either of those girls. This fight didn't matter to them. She was here as a different girl. A girl who was here to practice her skills, inspire her fellow students, and make connections with the other Academies.

She was standing here as Pyrrha Nikos, Huntress in training. Pyrrha Nikos, Jaune Arc's partner. Pyrrha Nikos, of Team JNPR. One day she would be Pyrrha Nikos, Huntress, and maybe even Pyrrha Nikos, Fall Maiden. But either way, this fight didn't matter. So what if she lost? Jaune said he admired her not for her skills, but for her ambitions and her desire to help. He said that he and the rest of the team would be there for her no matter what.

In the face of that, how could she worry about the outcome of this match?

Maybe she would win. She was determined to still win. But despite the poor position she found herself in, she almost laughed when Penny called her blades back and then lifted her arms, fingers hooked like a child pretending to be a monster.

But then Penny's blades doubled. Then doubled again. Then doubled again, until finally there was a massive cloud that Pyrrha could only stare at in awe. A trick of her weapon, maybe? Or her Semblance?

It didn't matter. Her blades were metal, which put them firmly in Pyrrha's domain. She crossed her forearms in front of her, drawing in a deep breath as she gathered her Semblance around her.

There was a flash of red in the corner of her eye, the wrong shade to be her own hair and far closer than anyone else should be. She turned her head, somehow seeing in slow motion as the torrent of red rose petals melted together into black clothes, dark hair, and wide silver eyes—

Ruby Rose slammed into her.

It didn't really hurt, not with her Aura engaged, but the impact forced a startled yelp out of Pyrrha all the same. She hit the arena floor with a much quieter oof. Then she and Ruby were rolling across the ground in a chaotic tangle of limbs and Ruby's cloak. The tenor of the crowd's din had changed, the cheers fading into a confused susurration. Underneath was a building baseline of jeering and boos as the audience realized the match had been interrupted.

But louder than the murmur, closer than a crowd, was the sound of Ruby wailing, "It's not real!"

The two of them rolled to a stop, Pyrrha sprawled out on her back and Ruby piled on top of her. Ruby's arms were around her shoulders, one knee digging painfully into her hip. Pyrrha pressed her hands against the ground, trying to sit up.

"Ruby—" But then Ruby's hands were her on her face, one on top of the other and both of them pressed over her eyes.

"It's not real!" Ruby's wailing had risen to a shriek, right into Pyrrha's ear. Pyrrha flinched, but anger didn't follow. Even blinded she could hear the desperate hysteria in Ruby's tone, and the breath the other girl drew sounded like nothing less than an outright sob. "Whatever you saw, it's not really there! It's just a trick!"

"It's okay," Pyrrha heard herself saying, though she had no idea what she was reassuring Ruby about. She lifted a hand and rested it on Ruby's head. "Whatever you're upset about—I promise, it'll be all right."

For some reason, Ruby only cried harder.

A peculiar thing happened when Ruby tackled Pyrrha—and it wasn't just the act itself, though that was plenty unusual. Ozpin was on his feet as soon as he realized it was Ruby racing onto the field, leaning over his desk like getting physically closer to the broadcast might shed some more light on what exactly was going on down there.

But no, the peculiar thing was, once that his clock tower. It stopped when Ruby tackled Pyrrha, the gears literally grinding to a halt. A deep, metallic groan reverberated through the tower. Then there was a horrible screech and everything resumed.

It was different now, though. The steady, endless tick, tock, tick, tock had changed into something staccato and off-kilter, an unfamiliar tick, ticktock, tick, ticktock. It sounded horrendous.

But for once, Ozpin paid it no mind. His eyes were glued to the broadcast, his mind racing to make sense of what it all meant.

He needn't have bothered. When the feed flickered and cut to a black chess piece emblazoned against a red field, he knew exactly what was happening.

A baffled silence fell over the crowd. Which meant multiple people whirled around when Yang let out a furious roar—Emerald among them, of course. The other woman's eyes were wide, the whites showing all the way around. She vanished.

But Yang knew how Emerald's tricks worked by now. She hadn't actually vanished, and Yang was too close for her to have moved to safety. Yang swung for empty air and connected with something decidedly solid, Ember Celica roaring right alongside her. Emerald reappeared, and then whipped out of Yang's line of sight and directly into the ground. There was a crackle of light over her skin, and then her Aura broke into motes of green light.

The people around Yang started screaming—and a moment later they were drowned out by Cinder.

"Do you see what happens?" Cinder asked, her silky-smooth voice floating through the Colosseum speakers. "What happens when you hand over your trust, your safety, your children, to men who claim to be our guardians, but are, in reality, nothing more than men? Our Academies' Headmasters wield more power than most armies, and one was audacious enough to control both.

"You might think this is just happenstance, but I can assure you that it is not. This is the result of two of these men using their power and influence to try to resolve their petty grievances against one another."

Hearing Cinder's voice again after all this time made Jaune want to be sick. But her stupid little speech came with one advantage: it distracted the soldiers. Jaune gave a shout and a heave and he bowled over the one still blocking his way. He bolted for the fighting ring, leaving behind the shouts of the Atlas soldiers and Ironwood's barked orders to ignore him.

"It seems General Ironwood isn't content to merely rule over the entirety of Atlas. His behavior in Vale has been remarkable. Occupying an unsuspecting kingdom with armed forces? Wresting control of tournament security away from the host Headmaster? Quite unprecedented, I assure you."

As Jaune threw himself at the still descending stage and hauled himself up onto the platform, he couldn't help but think that Cinder's new speech sucked. Maybe she rehearsed the old one. Made Mercury and Emerald sit there and listen to her smugly drone on...

No, he couldn't get distracted. He had to keep his mind on the here and now. He could see Pyrrha and Ruby on the ground on the other side of the field, Ruby screaming something and Pyrrha patting her on the head. Much as Jaune wanted to run straight towards both of them, he knew there was one more vulnerability to lock down.

Seeing Penny up close made him want to be sick all over again, and also scream and cry and collapse into a pathetic little puddle. But he couldn't get distracted doing that, either.

"But that's nothing compared to the General's latest stunt," Cinder continued. Jaune took a deep breath.

"Penny!" he called. The android in question whirled around to face him—and then looked openly baffled.

"... Jaune Arc? Pyrrha Nikos's teammate?"

"Yeah! Listen—" He hurried forward, then stopped short when Penny drew back uncertainly. Right. Even if she knew of him, she didn't actually know him. Of course she'd be nervous to have him approach right now, in the middle of such a strange situation.

Still, he was surprised at how that simple rejection got under his skin, ate away at his insides, made him burn with shame.

"... Listen, there's someone with an illusion Semblance nearby. You've got sensors and things that can see through that, right?"

Penny took another step backwards, her eyes wide. "I— I do not—" She hiccuped.

"You might think you're looking at an innocent Atlesian girl, but what you see in front of you is just General Ironwood's latest weapon."

On the broadcast screens above them, the black queen emblem was replaced by a blue field covered with lighter blue text and illustrations—schematics, Jaune realized. Penny's silhouette was already obvious, and the text reading P.E.N.N.Y. was just the cherry on top.

That hadn't happened last time. He was just that stupid screen the whole way through. Maybe ruining Cinder's plans made her decide she needed some fancier set dressing to get her point across. It was working on one person, at least: Penny drew in a horrified gasp, and when Jaune wrenched his gaze back down to her she had her hands clapped over her mouth.

"But it's not just Ironwood that needs to answer for his actions..."

The sound of Cinder's voice made Weiss want to scream, but at least that was overwhelming the urge to burst into hysterical tears. At least her words were so shocking that even the Atlas soldier had stopped trying to arrest Sun.

"After all, it was one of Lionheart's students that attacked an innocent contestant in the halls—another student from Haven, no less."

The feed switched away from Penny's schematics—something that should have been a relief. How violating, for them to broadcast her personal information like that.

But then switched to that horrible, faked video of Sun attacking Mercury.

"No!" Weiss shouted, though at who she wasn't sure.

"But Ozpin isn't some innocent victim, either. This attack happened under his watch, and don't forget his colossal failure to protect Vale when the Grimm invaded its streets. But even worse than that, the school he's meant to be protecting... has been invaded by the White Fang."

The feed cut away to a scene Weiss didn't recognize—a crowd in a dim room, a sea of faunus wearing bone-white masks. But the camera was zoomed in on two of them in particular. One was a tall blond man, his faunus trait not visible from this angle. Standing next to him was a young woman with long dark hair. Her faunus trait was visible; perched on top of her head were a pair of black cat ears.

Two more images faded in: the school ID photos of Sun Wukong and Blake Belladonna, each of them labeled with their subject's name.

Weiss turned her head, feeling like she was moving through molasses. Blake was frozen next to her. Her gaze was fixed on the screen, her eyes wide, her hands shaking, and her breaths coming in stuttering little gasps.

"Our Kingdoms are on the brink of war. Yet we, the citizens, are left in the dark while our Headmasters allow terrorists into their schools.

Blake took a step back.

"So I ask you: When the first shots are fired... who do you think you can trust?"

Chapter Text

Blake stared up at the screen, frozen in place. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the feed, stuck staring uselessly at her own face. BLAKE BELLADONNA, her school ID photo was labeled, proudly displayed right next to the video still of herself and Sun at the White Fang meeting. She always knew there was a risk of cameras at that meeting, of course. White Fang members avoided them as much as possible, but you could never assume any given room was free of traitors, people looking to cover their own asses, people after blackmail, or some combination of the above.

But the time to use that video evidence against her was weeks ago. Torchwick knew Ruby, and he knew Blake was associated with her. If they thought they had a chance to frame her, why would they wait this long? It would have been perfect timing, even if they didn't know anything for a fact. Ozpin was already suspicious of her. Hell, she was half convinced Ozpin already knew. If they had the footage, and they were going to use it against her, then why not do it weeks ago?

The woman speaking on the broadcast fell silent. The images of Blake and Sun faded back into the black queen against a red field. The silence hung for a long moment, and then the screen finally dissolved into static.

Behind her the Atlas soldier that was attempting to arrest Sun up until a few moments ago murmured, "White Fang...?"

Tension crawled along Blake's shoulders. Her hand flexed, fingers itching to reach for the weapon that she knew was on the other side of campus.

"You're White Fang! Both of you!"

"Woah, you've got it all wrong!" Sun insisted, even as Weiss snapped, "You stay away from them!"

"Miss Schnee, I'm gonna need you to step aside." There was the click of a radio. Weiss and Sun continued to argue with the man, even as he said, "Sergeant, I'm gonna need some backup. I'm in the north-west sector of the fair with two White Fang operatives—"

Blake ran.

She heard Weiss cry out, "No!" and heard Sun give a startled yelp. A hand closed around her upper arm. Weiss, she thought, based on the sharp press of nails against her skin. Her reflexes were getting good, if she'd managed to grab hold of her.

Then Blake engaged her Semblance. The hand fell away and Blake swerved to the right. Ducking behind this stall would break her pursuers' line of sight on her; it would take a second for them to realize the copy was just a copy; and then she could turn again, putting more tents and people between herself and danger.

... Danger. Was she in danger? That woman from the broadcast was just framing Sun, and she may have even thought she was framing Blake. But Blake was part of the White Fang. Or had been, but that wouldn't matter to the people here. It wouldn't matter to the soldiers from Atlas. Not even being Weiss Schnee's teammate would matter to the people from Atlas. They would just think it was a trick, some scheme to try to hurt her.

And being near Blake would hurt her. It would hurt Sun, too. Weiss would be branded a traitor, or worse. Sun would be declared guilty by association. Their lives would be ruined, all because Blake had been stupid enough to think that her very presence wouldn't be poisonous to the people around her.

No, she wasn't in danger. She was the danger.

Her Scroll was ringing. She reached for it, hesitated, then let her hand fall. She had to get to safety first.

Then people started screaming.

She slowed. That wasn't excited screaming, or even angry screaming. It was the sort of screaming that could only be borne of visceral, all consuming terror. But why?

She jerked to a stop, just at the edge of the fairgrounds, as an Ursa barreled right past her. Grimm? On campus? Not just one Grimm, but dozens of them. A few seconds later the Grimm sirens, frustratingly late to the party, finally sounded.

Blake fumbled for her Scroll, yanking it out of her pocket. She just barely glimpsed Yang's contact picture before it was replaced by a missed call notification. Treacherous want gripped her heart—the desire to call Yang back, to hear her voice, to apologize, to thank her, to say goodbye instead of just vanishing.

She swiped the notification away. What she wanted didn't matter. Grimm were on campus. The fairgrounds were packed with unarmed civilians. Most of the students and professors were away. People were going to die, if they weren't already, and Blake was one of the few people left to try to help.

Her hands shaking, Blake pressed the button to summon her locker.

The Scroll rang once, twice, and then Yang's voice came through the connection with a panicked, "Weiss?!"

"I lost Blake," Weiss blurted, to which Yang swore in response. "Listen, the White Fang have already released Grimm on the campus. Sun and I's lockers are almost here. Adam—"

Weiss's voice died in her throat. She swallowed once, then forced the words out.

"He must know Blake is here. He'll be looking for her, won't he?"

"Yeah." Weiss couldn't see Yang's expression, but she couldn't imagine it: eyes closed, mouth set, a frown steadily etching itself deeper into her brow. "Weiss—"

"I'll find her before he does," she promised. What she didn't admit was that she would settle for finding Adam before he found Blake. She'd said it herself yesterday evening, after all: she was the only person that had a chance of distracting him. "Just—hurry back, okay?"

"Even if I have to ride a Nevermore to get there."

Neither of them said goodbye; Weiss couldn't even be sure if one of them hung up before the other. She didn't stop to figure it out, either. Instead she lifted her gaze to the sky, instantly picking out a pair of rapidly-growing glimmers in the night.

"Sun, they're almost here!"

"Finally," Sun groaned, even though the lockers had taken barely thirty seconds to arrive. In that time Sun had leapt to his feet to start coordinating an evacuation, working side by side with the very same Atlas soldier who had been attempting to arrest him a moment ago. He gave said soldier a pat on the soldier and a thumbs up, then left the man sputtering in his wake. "Yang have any idea where Blake went?"

"No, but since the White Fang are the ones releasing Grimm—"

"Wait, they are?"

"Ugh, just listen to me!" Their lockers finally crashed down in front of them. Weiss hurried forward to yank hers open. "Yes, it's the White Fang! And as long as they're here their leader is going to be looking for Blake, and Blake's going to be looking for him—and the person on that broadcast is gonna make these Atlesian Knights go berserk any second now."

"You guys have got to tell me where you get all this information." Sun yanked his own locker open. He withdrew his weapon and gave it an expert flick, unfolding the collapsed segments into their staff form. "But, got it. Fight the White Fang, find Blake, watch out for robots, and destroy any Grimm that get in our way."

The Grimm sirens finally went off. Weiss nearly scoffed—a little too late, wasn't it?—but as her fingers closed around the hilt of Myrtenaster a familiar calm washed over her. The situation was bad in the same way that water was wet, but it was still better than last time. Penny was alive. Amity Colosseum wasn't being overrun by Grimm. Five of them would be progressing with the necessary foreknowledge to change things. Four of them knew what to do already. Ruby knew how to shut down the Atlas robots. Jaune knew how to save Pyrrha. Yang knew what to expect from Adam. And Weiss...

Truthfully, she felt like the least essential cog in this machine. One brief conversation with Winter, which had thus far only spawned one (frankly rather silly) text conversation with Whitley. She hadn't managed to help Yang with evading Mercury, or Jaune with talking to Pyrrha, or Ruby with saving Penny. She hadn't even managed to keep track of Blake.

But she had one advantage none of the others did: she was present and awake for the entire Battle of Beacon. She didn't get benched by an injury, or end up launched to some random point in the city, or arrive partway through and then pass out near the end. She remembered every exhausting, terrified minute of the battle. The swarms of Grimm. Atlas's robotic hordes. The comings and going of the White Fang. Her Aura levels weren't completely recovered, but she was still here. She was still stronger than she had been last time.

Maybe the Blacksmith didn't send her back to do one big thing. Maybe she was here to do lots of little things. Kill just one more Grimm. Save just one more person. Buy a fellow Huntress just one more second.

Or Huntsman. She shot Sun a fierce smile and gave her weapon and expert flourish to match his own.

"Not just the Grimm that get in our way. Any of the Grimm we see threatening someone." She lifted her sword, pointing the tip at a Ursa that was sniffing its way closer and closer towards a game stall. There was a small family of three—two fathers and their daughter, Weiss thought—huddled on its roof. "Starting with that one."

"That's what I like to hear!" Sun whooped. He whirled around, spinning his staff, but stopped short of charging forward. "I'm guessing you're a... mid- to long-range Dust specialist, but no slouch up close?"

"You do pay attention," Weiss drawled. "Get ready to jump."

"Huh?" Sun glanced back at her, then looked down just as a Glyph spun into existence beneath him. He crouched, then Weiss flicked her wrist and sent him soaring into the air. He made the whole thing look coordinated, soaring into the air with a wahoo! and a perfectly acrobatic flip. A moment later, he crashed down onto the Ursa with a crack of gunfire. The Grimm smashed into the ground, and then crumbled into ash. Weiss let herself feel a surge of smug delight.

Then there was only the battle. Fighting alongside Sun was more like fighting alongside Ruby than Weiss would have guessed, and they were quick to fall into a steady rhythm. Sun picked a Grimm and closed on it in seconds, Weiss provided support and dealt with anything else that dared to wander too close, and as soon as that Grimm was dead they moved onto the next.

Much like Ruby he was devastatingly fast, and once he was in range of his chosen target he morphed into a whirlwind of nunchucks and gunfire. Unlike Ruby, he was clearly specialized to handle single targets—but that whirlwind-like method of his provided a handy screen. Anything that tried to get close enough to attack either threw itself blindly forward or attempted to exercise caution, both of which left Weiss free to pick it off from afar.

They tore their way across the fairgrounds like this until, finally, Weiss whipped her sword free of Boarbatusk's skull and whirled around to find that the festival was empty.

Not completely empty, of course; the Atlas soldiers were all still there, but most civilians had all fled for the evacuation zone and the only Grimm left were stragglers. So she and Sun had to go...

Last time, she and Blake had made for the docks—but Blake had ultimately prioritized dealing with the White Fang, and most of them would be at the school proper. Cinder's altered message may have upset Blake into bolting, but she wouldn't run when it really mattered. If Weiss wanted to find Blake she would have to wade right into the thick of things.

"Come on!" She ejected the empty Dust cartridges from Myrtenaster's chambers and loaded in fresh ones. "We have to get to the campus as soon as we can."

Blake considered doubling back to the fairgrounds, then decided against it. Logically, the best place for non-combatants to run in circumstances like this would be towards the Huntsman Academy, where there were high odds of encountering a trained Huntsman or Huntress, or at least one of the many trainees.

But the people at the festival were civilians. They weren't normally allowed on the campus itself. Their instincts would tell them to run in whatever direction was away from the Grimm first; only then would they start to think more rationally, at which point they would make a break for the nearest exit: the docks.

So that was where Blake would go, too.

She flung Gambol Shroud at a Ursa loping past her, hooking it around the spikes on its back before yanking the ribbon to drag herself along after. The Ursa twisted around to swipe at her, then reeled back with a roar when Blake's Shadow exploded in its face instead. Blake flicked Gambol Shroud's ribbon; the gun slipped free of the spikes and flew back to Blake's hand. Her feet touched down on the Ursa's back, and then she was driving Gambol Shroud's blade into the Ursa's spine. She didn't lose her footing until the Grimm literally dissolved underneath her. That was one taken care of.

But where had it come from? That Ursa hadn't been huge, but still too big, too old, to have come from nearby. The woods immediately surrounding the school were too aggressively patrolled for one to have grown so large. Forever Fall and the Emerald Forest were relatively close but still a considerable distance away and, more importantly, there was sheer cliff face between the school and either location. And that was accounting for the possibility of one Ursa making its way onto school grounds, not the near dozen she saw rampaging across the grounds.

So where did they come from? And why did it seem like the answer might be the docks?

Blake charged across the field, pausing only long enough to dispatch any Grimm that crossed her path. Her ears were twitching inside her ribbon, trying to twist and rotate to focus on the nearby sounds: people screaming, Grimm roaring, the crack of gunfire, and the rumble of engines coming and going—

Coming and going fast, she realized. Approaching, lingering a few seconds, and then departing again. Much faster than they would have if they were shuttles from the tournament. Even the most ruthlessly efficient loading of evacuees would take more time than that. As she finally rounded the last copse of trees between her and the docks, she saw that she was right to be suspicious: the Bullheads were swooping in, throwing open their doors, letting people out, and then departing again.

As she drew closer and closer, more and more details became clear. The airships weren't just offloading people, but Grimm. The civilians attempting to evacuate were running away from both the Gimm and the people disembarking alongside them. And the people disembarking were dressed in dark clothes, white jackets, hoods, and Grimm masks.

By the time she reached the edge of the docks, she knew what she was looking at: the White Fang. Here, at Beacon. Opening fire on innocent civilians. Unleashing Grimm onto a Huntsman academy.

Was this why Weiss and Yang were acting so strange and cagey? That didn't make sense. If it involved the White Fang then why not just tell her? Was Yang worried about a repeat of her burnout leading up to the Breach? Did Weiss suspect her of being involved? Was that why they insisted that she stay at the fairgrounds?

That couldn't be possible, but there couldn't be any other explanation. This had to be the same White Fang cell involved with Torchwick, who they suspected of working with the woman Ruby had confronted in the CCT. If they had managed to infiltrate that far, there was no reason to assume they hadn't sent someone to infiltrate Beacon Academy as a student.

No, she told herself. No. They wouldn't just baselessly assume her to be guilty like that. They must not have realized the White Fang was going to be involved. Even looking at them, Blake could hardly believe it herself. Dozens of them had fallen or been arrested during the Breach. How did they still have enough members left for an invasion of this scale?

It didn't matter. What mattered was stopping them.

A Bullhead swept up to the dock in front of her. Its door slid open and a pair of Boarbatusk leapt from the cargo bay. Blake leapt forward and landed with both feet planted the mask of one of the two. It tossed its head, squealing, and Blake pushed off into a second leap. The combined momentum sent her sailing forward and right into the recently vacated cargo bay. She hit the floor, rolled, and popped back up to her feet a moment later.

The Bullhead started to pull away from the docks. The bang of Blake's landing had been loud enough to echo and hard enough rock the little airship, but with the door between the cockpit and the cargo bay sealed it seemed that the pilot didn't know what was going on.

Good.

Blake took a bare second to consider her strategy, then yanked the door to the cockpit open. Contrary to standard White Fang operating procedures there was only one person inside, a lizard faunus with scales covering the entirety of his arms. He barely had a chance to turn his head before Blake drove her fist into his jaw. The man reeled back and the entire Bullhead listed towards the dock; but Blake was ready for it, and caught her hand against the pilot's seat.

The pilot wasn't strapped in—Idiot, she thought, her own internal voice sounding both vicious and sad—so Blake simply grabbed him by his hood and hauled him out of his seat. He cursed and flailed, reaching for the gun he left in the co-pilot seat as Blake dragged him into the cargo bay. In the end he wasn't able to do anything except flail as Blake hauled him to the door, then shoved him straight out of it. It was a short drop to the docks, six feet at most, but the man still hit the concrete with a painful sounding crunch. He collapsed with a howl, clutching at his leg.

Despite herself, anxiety squeezed Blake's heart for a moment. Killing an enemy combatant was one thing, but leaving one helpless against any nearby Grimm was another. But a quick glimpse around showed her that there were no more Grimm nearby. Atlas soldiers and Atlesian Knights were steadily making their way towards the docks, picking off the steady trickle of Grimm being unleashed by the White Fang. No Grimm would attack him.

She'd just be leaving him helpless against Atlas instead.

She dug her nails into the rubber gasket at the edge of the cargo door. Then she whirled around and dashed back to the cockpit.

Blake had picked up a lot of skills in her time with the White Fang, including the very basics of aircraft control, but no one could call her a true pilot. Pilots were valuable in the organization, but combatants at Blake's skill level were even more so. It was easier to teach someone how to fly than it was to teach them how to stay steady in the face of Grimm and gunfire. Not to mention that civilian combatants were much harder to convert to the cause. Any faunus at Adam, Blake, Sienna, or Ilia's skill-level could have easily found admission into the Academies and enjoyed the relatively egalitarian career path of a Huntsman or Huntress. Civilian or even military pilots, on the other hand, were much more likely to have felt the oppressive grind of the system. Taxi pilots made to work the worst shifts, cargo pilots given the most dangerous routes, military pilots repeatedly passed over for promotion...

No, there had never been any need for Blake to learn how to pilot an airship. If she tried to take off or land she would surely crash. She really only knew the basics: accelerate, slow down, turn...

And an unorthodox trick for maintaining current air speed.

She flung herself into the pilot seat. The instrument panel was flashing some sort of warning at her, which she ignored. She grabbed the control stick, tugging it starboard until the Bullhead more-or-less leveled out. She mashed the pedals until the ship's nose turned inward, towards Beacon, then eased the ship forward. Bullets started to ping off of the ship's hull; she heard one of them ricochet violently through the cargo bay before falling silent. She hunched her shoulders but kept at it. The Bullhead meandered forward, curving in a long, lazy arc until it was pointed back towards the cliff face.

The gunfire pinging off the ship's hull lessened, though it didn't stop entirely; no time to wonder why. Another Bullhead had drawn up to the docks, doors sliding open to reveal an Alpha Beowulf they'd somehow crammed into the cargo bay. Through a stroke of blind luck, the nose of her own airship was pointed directly at the newcomer.

Blake slammed the control stick down. Her Bullhead lurched forward, steadily picking up speed as it lumbered across the docks. She leapt out of her seat and snatched up the former pilot's abandoned rifle. She wedged the butt of said rifle against the control stick, and the muzzle she braced against the seat.

Then she ran. Her feet pounded against the metal floors as she dashed into the cargo bay, then through the cargo bay, and then flung herself through the cargo bay doors.

Her Aura flashed around her as she hit the ground. For the second time tonight she fell into a roll and popped back to her feet a moment later. She whirled around just in time to see her plan come to fruition. Her recently abandoned Bullhead slammed into the Alpha Beowulf. It roared, smashing its forepaws against the cockpit canopy and digging the claws of its feet into the pavement beneath it. The Bullhead was too heavy, though, and moving too fast. It simply swept the Beowulf towards the edge of the cliff... and towards the airship that just delivered it.

The pilot inside seemed to realize what was coming, at least. There was a visible burst of air as the emergency ejection system blew the cockpit canopy off. The faunus inside pulled herself onto the ship's nose and then flung herself into the open air. Not even a second later, the Beowulf and Blake's Bullhead smashed into the recently abandoned airship. A pair of wings with beautifully glossy black feathers snapped open from the woman's back. She flapped them once and pivoted sharply away from the docks, the evening breeze carrying her south.

Behind her the two Bullheads, the Beowulf still pinned between them, careened over the edge of the cliff. A fire sparked somewhere in the tangled mess. A thick plume of smoke outlined the graceful arc the three of them traced towards the waters below.

It wasn't enough, but Blake knew it would count for something. Two airships down, two pilots removed from combat, and the meanest Grimm Blake had seen tonight on a one way trip to the bottom of sound. She would just have to do the rest the hard way. She reached for Gambol Shroud, turning to face the docks again. Finally, she saw why half of the people shooting her borrowed ship a moment ago had abruptly stopped.

The Atlesian soldiers and the Atlesian Knights were shooting each other.

When the Atlas robots faceplates flashed red, Weiss swore so viciously that Sun whistled in response. Despite that cavalier reaction, he didn't hesitate to turn his attention from the Grimm to the nearest robot. He swung his staff like a baseball bat, taking the Knight's head clean off.

"You know," he called, "you're not quite what I was expecting!"

"We can discuss this later, Sun! We still need to get to the cafetaria!"

They'd taken longer in the fairgrounds than Weiss would have liked, and they had only just reached the fountains between the docks and the campus proper—which was at least, according to Weiss's memories, about where she and Blake had been when the Knights turned on them originally. Which meant that Blake couldn't be far.

She doubted Sun was done teasing her, but he didn't need to be told off twice. As soon as he was free of the tangle of Atlas robots, he dashed after Weiss. The two of them leapt over water features and slipped between columns as they fought their way through the melee—and then they were clear, dashing across open ground.

"But I meant what I said earlier," Sun reminded her; though his tone was bright, there was a somber quality to it. "I wanna know how you knew to be careful of the Knights, and why you're so certain this Adam guy is in the cafeteria."

"It's a long story. I know it sounds crazy, but just trust me a—"

"Oh, I'm not doubting your intel. I might be dead by now without it. I'm just saying..."

He didn't actually say whatever he was 'just saying', simply trailing off as the two of them rounded a corner and dashed between two buildings. Weiss could see the corner of the cafeteria through the gap, the building interior already bathed in orange light from the fires raging nearby. Even without Sun finishing his sentence, Weiss got what he meant. She, Yang, and Jaune were careful about their words at first, but Weiss had kind of given up on subtlety after Cinder's speech. That certainly made it easier to communicate, and just as certainly raised a lot of red flags to anyone who was paying attention. Which, clearly, Sun was.

"I know," she said, as the two of them raced out of the alleyway and into the courtyard by the cafeteria. "I will explain, I promise. We just need to get to the end of this night alive—"

Red came rushing towards them, a crescent of energy slicing through the air. Sun flung himself into the air, hopping over the crescent with a woah! Weiss was forced to fling herself to the side, sprawling on the ground with an undignified grunt. Sun moved to stand in front of her as she scrambled back to her feet, but no followup came from their assailant.

Instead the man strode towards them, pace relaxed, crimson-bladed sword held almost casually at his side. The orange glow of the flames nearly reduced him to a silhouette, but Weiss could see the moonlight highlighting the red embroidery on his coat and glittering off the white of his Grimm mask.

"Well, well," the man said, and though Weiss had never heard his voice in person she knew exactly who she was looking at: Adam Taurus. He smirked; even with the mask on, the expression made Weiss's skin crawl. "This mission is so important I was willing to give up on killing the resident Schnee to see it through. But here you are anyway."

"Shut up," Weiss growled. She lifted her blade, pointing the tip at Adam. She flicked her gaze back and forth, scanning the cafeteria behind him and trying to ignore how her heart was pounding. "Where's Blake?"

Adam tilted his head, like he was trying to get a better look at Weiss. Then he laughed.

"Right, the broadcast. Guess she realized coming here put her on the wrong side of history, huh?"

"Shut up! I know she didn't join you!"

"Yet you came straight to me to find her!" Adam spread his arms, basking in the scene before him. "Face it, Schnee. Dealing with you for a few months was all it took for her to realize that the White Fang is where she belongs."

"Oh, shut up," Sun groaned. He took a step forward, staff thrust out in front of him. "Like Blake is dumb enough to join up with you guys again. We know she came this way, so what did you do to her?"

Adam turned his head towards Sun. He was still for a long moment, his smirk slowly fading. Then he sheathed his blade with a flourish. One hand settled on the weapon's hilt as he dropped into a shallow crouch.

"Come and find out."

While Atlas's Knights weren't fun to fight, they were easier to deal with than Grimm. They were pretty mindless, and thus easy to predict. Blake had no idea why they were shooting everything except the Grimm and White Fang, but their pattern was predictable: they moved in a group until they found the nearest target, whereupon they fanned out in front of said target and opened fire.

Between Blake, the Atlas soldiers, and the handful of other students that had arrived with their weapons, the Knights were easily taken care of. But even once they were dead they were still causing problems. Civilians were cringing away from the soldiers in fear, and one of the students had gotten up in one of the soldier's faces, yelling about why he's told his robots to—

—flicked their wrist and wisps of golden smoke—

Pain ripped through Blake's skull, driving to her knees. Her vision split into three, the portal in front of her overlaid with a vision of Beacon's docks overlaid with a vision of Adam in Beacon's cafeteria.

"Where will this take us?" Ruby asked.

"Not where—"

The pain ratcheted up. Blake screamed. At least, she thought she was screaming. Her throat hurt like she was the one screaming. Trapped inside her ribbon her ears were trying to flatten back against her skull, a sensation that made her want to rip off her ribbon, then rip off her ears, and then rip out all of her hair for good measure.

"When you are needed most."

Blake crumpled forward, elbows scraping against the concrete. When— when—

Her fingers brushed against Yang's—

Was she at the docks? No, she and Weiss had left the docks almost ten minutes ago... no, she had left Weiss at the fair with Sun ten minutes ago... no, Sun wasn't even at the fair... Could she be at the docks? She was looking into Yang's eyes, and she was staring at the landing pad, and she was staring up at Adam.

—Yang's hand was warm—

"No," she gasped, her hoarse voice no more than a whisper. She was at the docks and she was at the portal but she was not in the cafeteria. "No no no—"

Weiss— Sun— Adam—

Her vision went dark.

—Blake stepped forward—