Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There is a concept pertaining to a theoretical superior mortal being hailing from the North in the highest peak of Remnant, coming down to the lower planes to spread the words of Heaven. For the longest time, people believed that this being existed and walked among us.

His name was King Ozymandias, Lord God of Vale, the holy land blessed by the Seasons. This Prophet King sat on his throne of silver and emerald, there his magick would light up a green torch that could be seen from miles away, revealing fragments of the future.

He reigned long, his rule was iron. But eventually, people learned the Prophet King was nothing more than a charlatan when the Great Army of the North marched in and took the Valley for themselves. Ozymandias was said to have possessed great power, but even he was reduced to the status of fugitive once she stepped foot onto this land.

Though, stepping foot would not be an accurate way of describing it. Her foot never even touched the ground, hovering steadily just a few feet above, almost as if a god had descended from on high to claim what was theirs. She walked forth as the holy city was ransacked and conquered. Behind her a sea of flowing Atlesian flags, carried by the North wind, signaling her arrival.

This being was the symbol of Atlas’s power. People of the North would call her their guardian, their protector.

But when she marched into Vale that day, the people called her the Superman.

“Bzzt…zzz… when you smile my darlin’… we smile upon the Valley…”

The song echoed on across the entire country on the radio. It was a new classic composed by the late Sir Qrow Branwen, who wrote this song in remembrance of a former friend, Summer Rose, lost away at sea. The sea in this context was a metaphor, for Sir Branwen knew not where Summer actually died.

The Legendary Hero went missing a long time ago. It was said that she was the very heart of the Valley itself, and if her heart were to ever stop beating, this country would soon follow suit. To fall and crumble into the sand whence it came.

Sir Branwen could not bear to see the disaster that was to come, nor the pain of losing someone so dear to him. On the night when he wrote down the song, he took with him one wine glass, filled it as best he could and took a swig. Before lunging into the unknown of the cold dark waters far beneath the Bridge of Valor. The state funeral that followed was momentous, a token to remember the Legend of the Valley.

But in the end, it was cut short, and the song was left on the radio as the evacuation broadcast sounded loudly beneath the bombs and the airships. The full might of Atlas was something the Valley had never seen before, something not even the Prophet King could foresee.

“My King, you need to leave now!” General Goodwitch commanded, drawing her royal military blade. “Your blood is sacred, and it cannot fall to the hands of Northern infidels.”

“Thank you… my love…” Ozymandias put on his hooded cloak. “I swear on this day, the Valley may fall, but our flag will fly again, that is a promise.”

General Goodwitch nodded as blood dripped down her head. Goodwitch was one whose name was known throughout the lands. One so ruthless and strict, so accomplished and powerful. Her march across the mighty desert and conquest of the West was legendary.

But the Legends of the Valley now faced a being far beyond anything they had ever seen before. As the bells of the church rang and the General looked up in the sky in horror – a being adorned with a striking red and white cape soared through the sky and punctured the bell tower like it was made of paper. The pillars crumbled into sand, and the being flew far above into the sky.

“Peter,” said Ozymandias as he was escorted down the secret tunnel, “is it true? Does a mortal fly? The one they call the Superman… does he fly?”

Peter Port, head Royal Alchemist, trailed behind his King. His voice trembled in the darkness of the tunnel, for what he saw was power absolute.

“Yes… my King – she flies.”

Chapter Text

5 years later…

The Guardian of the North Sea hovered above the dark waters day and night. Rumors had it she could see as far as the horizon allowed her and hear as far as the distant lands stretched into the beyond. Always prepared to swoop in like a powerful eagle at the sight of any perceived evil or injustice.

This was the North Law, the Law imposed upon the Valley conquered by the might of the Atlesian Military. It was nearly impossible to believe that the very fabric of Vale’s culture could have changed so drastically in such a short time span.

Buildings were replaced from the ashes of the bombing during the war. Temples dedicated to the Seasons and the Lord God Ozymandias were crushed into rubble. And in their places rose vast halls of science, learning, and manufacturing. Entire systems of government and military were overhauled by Atlesian authority. New senators and governors appointed, councilors of old outvoted by new Atlesians politicians. The peoples from the North migrated further down into the majestic Valley as mighty walls grew over its borders to defend against what remained of rebels, pirates, and Grimm within the region.

It was like a completely different world.

But then again – it wasn’t too long ago when it was deemed impossible to believe that a person could fly. Nobody could know what tomorrow had in store.

“… and this will be our fate, our future if we do not stop this tyranny this day my brothers,” the revolutionary leader Adam Belladonna told his brethren in this secret meeting.

These halls within the dark tunnels of the underground sewers were the few remaining places left untouched by the hands of the Atlesian authority. But for how long, Adam could not tell. Here in the dark underbelly of the city, Adam was mobilizing his forces. Barrels of stolen Dust hauled inside to be repurposed into fuel, gunpowder, and explosives. Crates upon crates of food and supplies to last the coming Winter. But once Winter ended, not even he could foresee how long the rebellion would last.

“The risk, Adam,” said Sun Wukong, voice trembling with exhaustion and concerns. “I don’t know if we have the men for something of this scale.”

“Keep faith, Sun, keep faith. I won’t take with me every man and woman here, just a couple handfuls of our best. The risk will be rewarded, my friend. I am certain of it.”

“Then let me come with you. I’d feel a lot better with the safety in numbers.”

“You know I can’t let you do that. I need you here, Sun. You are my best soldier, these people know and follow you. I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I were to lose you as well.”

Sun fell silent, head held down in a somber shadow, obscuring his eyes away. Adam still saw the anxiety in him regardless. Feeling the same weight and sorrow upon his brethren, he took off his ceremonial White Fang mask to look his men in the eyes. What they needed was the strength of the Lost Virtues, Adam would often describe, the old ways before the invasion. Old spirit of justice and honor.

“Have you seen my sister around?” He asked Sun, to which he shook his head.

“I think she went across town to check on our other base. I told her it was a bad idea to go out so late after dark, but she didn’t listen. With that… thing in the sky watching us all day, every day.”

“Let’s be honest here, when has that thing ever stopped watching us?”

Their conversation was then cut short as the gate of the sewer systems to the South opened up for their fellow White Fang members to enter. More crates were being hauled through using great industrial robots designed for construction and heavy manual labor, with their large exoskeleton frames being piloted by skilled White Fang members to use these big and powerful mechanical arms, carrying the cargo.

Riding on the back of one of these huge machines was her – Ilia Belladonna, Adam’s sister.

Pulling off her hooded cloak revealed a host of weaponry and tools she wore on her belt. Dangling on her hip was her signature rapier whip hybrid Lightning Lash, a versatile deadly tool for quick close-quarter combat. The weapon looked bloody, and still sparkling with electricity, fresh from a recent altercation, Adam assumed watching her entering their base.

“Ilia,” Adam called as he approached. “You disobeyed a direct order and left the base. I told you to stay put to train the new recruits.”

“Oh, give it a rest, Adam,” Ilia smirked ever so slightly. “These guys can take care of themselves. They are stronger than you think.”

“Not against that flying thing in the sky they aren’t,” he snapped. “What were you thinking? You could’ve gotten hurt, or worse.”

“I recognized it as a risk, and took it – it paid off.”

“What are you talking about?”

Ilia pulled forth from her tool belt a leather pouch. Inside contained a small cylindrical mechanism of some sort, almost like some sort of pill. One Adam would hesitate to swallow of course on the account of all the metal parts and green lights glowing on the side with a metallic golden coating.

“This is…” Sun gasped, “is that what I think it is?”

“The Doctor was right,” Ilia smiled. “They’ve been manufacturing these pills on an industrial scale. These factories are huge Adam, some of them even hidden away, masked behind a school, a military base. They may cover as much as a quarter of the entire city.”

Handing the pill over to Adam, Ilia leaned forth to whisper:

“This is the source of her power, the power of the Superman.”

Adam quickly glanced about, making sure they were not overheard. His gaze darkened to a serious aura, one of focus and conviction.

“And you are absolutely sure?” Adam asked.

“Yes, I couldn’t quite get my hands on their schematics. Their security was tight, but I did see the plans myself. This whole raid just got blown the fuck open. These guys aren’t just bringing regular cargo, Adam. No supplies, food, or ammunition. But it’s loaded to the brim with these. If we manage to get our hands on even one of these crates, it could change the course of this war.”

“We have one pill right here,” said Sun, “why not just use it now? If these pills are really as powerful as you say…”

“I’m not about to ingest something we have little to no knowledge of,” Adam cut him off.

“He’s right, Sun. It’s too risky.”

“The time will come, my friend,” Adam laid his hand on Sun’s shoulder. “Have faith, be patient. But the time for waiting is over, now is the time for action. Ilia, you’re with me. Sun, keep a watchful eye, radio us if anything goes wrong.”

Sun looked on, uncertain and hesitant of both the plan, the pill, and even his sister Ilia. But he trusted Adam. The one man who could lead the Valley out of slavery and into freedom. He dared not imagine what the revolution would be like without Adam at the helm, or worse, if the revolution would exist at all.

2 hours later…

“Train approaching in T-minus three minutes,” said Ilia looking through her binoculars.

“Alright men, ready yourselves,” Adam sheathed his recently sharpened sword. “Remember, we cripple, but we do not kill. Our goal is the cargo aboard that train, nothing more. In and out, before that thing hovering in the sky even notices us.”

“Two minutes,” said Ilia, shivering in the cold.

It was said in ancient folklore that the beginning of snowfall was often an ill omen of things to come. In Northern Atlesian Sagas, the coming of Winter was the beginning of what the people of the North called Ragnarok. It was an old word with no meaning, from a tongue older than the peoples of the North themselves, in a civilization long past. Scholars could only guess what it could mean, but combing through the frozen sagas and tattered poems and forgotten rhymes, they thought one of the possible translations was that of “The End Time.”

The word came from a bizarre language, one the scholars weren’t even sure was of this planet. Where did it come from? Were they an ancestor of ours? If not – then where did we come from?

A question Adam posed against the Atlesians every single day since the invasion, since Vale fell. Born of a hateful fire within that will not cease.

A beacon of rage and hope he carried with him and his men as they all leaped off the snowy mountainside and unto the roaring train in the distance. Their timing was as swift as the wind, quiet as the night. No one suspected a thing in the middle of this furious snowstorm.

“Come in, Adam,” Sun called him through their earpieces, “talk to me, brother.”

“We made it in, Sun,” Adam whispered. “Looks like some kind of boiler room, steam pipes everywhere. The cargo car can’t be far off now. Two cars ahead if the schematics we have are accurate.”

“Alright, keep in touch, you hear? Over and out.”

Despite the almost archaic metal pipes steaming all over the place in this train car, the interior seemed clean to an eerie degree. Walls waxed down to a black reflective shine so clear Adam and his crew could see themselves in the wall, as a bizarre sensation befell upon them. It was as if someone was watching them from behind the reflective surfaces.

Red neon lights lit violently throughout the entire train car. Adam suspected them to be mechanical wiring of some kind. All leading towards a bright red door with a number pad attached on the side. There was only one door in this entire train car, however, which puzzled Adam. He was sure that there were other train cars behind them. If so, how would the people on the train get to the back?

“Do we have the passcode to the door?” Ilia asked.

“I can hack into the system,” said one of the men, a technician, as he pulled out of his backpack a portable computer. “It will take a couple minutes.”

“Do what you need to do,” said Adam.

“Right, while he does that,” Ilia turned to her brother. “Do we have an escape plan? Some kind of backup in case we get caught?”

“I already have contingencies in place. Sun, my best soldier will carry them out to ensure our legacy will survive even if we do not.”

“Don’t be stupid now,” Ilia snapped, “stop talking like you are going to die. You are the face of the revolution. You CANNOT die. We need a plan for the immediate future, practical contingencies for the now, not the far future.”

Adam nodded his head solemnly, before glancing about, making sure they were not being watched. He then pulled forth his sheathed blade, letting his sister and his men marvel at the crimson colors shining in the dark.

“The most powerful machine the Atlas Empire possesses is the Atlesian Paladin model 290. Our men retrieved a prototype of the machine not long ago from a military base in the South of the Valley. We’ve been experimenting and dissecting the materials and construction of the model, fascinating to see how Atlas utilizes Dust infused compounds to strengthen the molecular bond of the metal. Particularly Gravity Dust. It emits a powerful gravitational field that can deflect potential attacks, leaving the metal itself unharmed. Any ordinary material would be completely useless against such a defense. But if I were to strike it with an equal but counter gravitational field…”

“You’ll be able to cut their machines?” Ilia asked.

“I don’t know for certain,” Adam sheathed his sword once more. “I do know that we only have enough Gravity Dust to power my blade for a single strike. No more, no less. I am confident in its strength, however. I can even amplify the strike with my Aura to allow for a range attack. If it is a machine of any kind, a robot, an android, or even just body armor, I will be able to cut through.”

“I don’t know Adam,” said the technician, still working on the door. “The science here seems a little dubious. Sounds a bit hard to believe.”

“Look, I’m not about to waste time bringing these samples to a secret lab somewhere in the country-side to have it peer-reviewed,” said Adam. “We can’t afford to lose any more time, we’ll just have to take that leap of faith and go off on the data we do have.”

“And… you plan on cutting… the Superman?”

Adam responded by putting on his White Fang mask, securing it tight:

“That is my contingency plan. That thing is too powerful to live. If we fail this mission, then I would like to at the very least kill that disgusting robot, or android, or whatever the fuck it is.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” said Ilia.

“Got it,” said the technician. “We’re in.”

“Not a moment too soon. Quietly now men.”

They marched forth into the next train car. Peculiarly, however – it was empty. Nothing inside but the same reflective black surfaces, red neon lights, and a single nonfunctioning supercomputer. Adam quickly signaled his men to check out the device to absolutely no avail. They found no way to turn it on, but more concerning however was that the keyboard was completely solid – none of the buttons could be pressed.

“Could they have changed the cargo car? Expecting a raid?” Ilia wondered.

“I don’t know,” said Adam, looking around, “let’s keep moving. Maybe it’s in the car ahead this one. It’s got to be…”

A sudden metallic scratching sound made Adam’s head turn. It sounded almost as if it was coming from within the reflective surfaces of the walls. But when he tried to look inside, he could see nothing. The wall was as solid as it could be.

“What… the hell was that?” Ilia touched the wall, feeling the smooth metallic surface.

Only to then turn around to face the sound of dripping liquid. There behind them the technician stood, barely able to string together cohesive thoughts:

“S…something… my… chest…” he muttered, as he fell face-first onto the floor with a fountain of blood oozing from his back. A sharp blade had pierced his heart.

To Adam’s horror, the completely empty reflection had sprouted forth a metallic blade in the shape of a crescent moon. Soon the black surface would birth forth some kind of black ooze, foul beyond belief. It smelt of raw iron, boiling at a temperature that was difficult to comprehend, as if a kind of cold heat. But when the blob reformed itself back into its shape, Adam could see the humanoid mold that made up this metal man who just murdered one of his men.

One by one, from behind each of the men came these towering inhuman monsters melting out of the walls of the car. Adam initially thought they were coming from inside the reflection. Baffled by the technology that made it possible, wondering if it was really a magic trick of some kind. But one by one, he realized they weren’t actually in the reflection. They were merely a part of the train’s makeup, hiding in plain sight until the opportune moment.

“ADAM! HELP!” The men shouted in horror as they were torn apart, limb from limb. Some had their arms and legs cut off. Another had their entire torso pulled apart by two of the faceless monstrous androids. Their screams were deafening, and yet these androids made no sound.

“We have to go, Ilia, MOVE, MOVE!”

Without hesitation, the girl pulled forth from her pouch a handful of fire Dust and immediately pressed it against the hard surface of the metal door before them. The Dust began dispersing its energies across the surface area, melting away the metal. The heat it produced was extraordinary, and the excruciating pain seared on the flesh of Ilia’s palm did not make it easy, for she was forced to hold it there for a good few seconds before the heat could fully melt the door.

“You alright?” Adam shouted, shooting off his shotgun to ward off the androids.

“Fine, fine, let’s GO!”

The two of them leapt straight onto the next car. This one was roofless, but incredibly vast. It held a large shipment of some kind of supplies. Piles and piles of crates being tied down by strong metallic cables and various smaller chains.

“This is it,” Ilia cried. “Adam, slice them open. I’ll hold them off.”

Upon closer inspection, Adam noticed the chains themselves were made out of the same Dust infused metal their crew had been expecting. Peculiarly, however, the cables were not made out of that same material. Instead, merely something ordinary, weaker.

Adam wasted no time slicing the cable apart with his uncharged sword. So fast it almost looked as if he never even unsheathed his blade to begin with. Scrambling to get the cables off, Adam began to sweat – his eyes twitched ever so slightly under his mask. It was a quirk that Ilia had always been able to notice regardless of whether he was wearing a mask. It was exactly that kind of intuition that made Adam trust her so much, no matter how much he scolded her for disobedience.

“Any day now!” Ilia cried, whipping the androids with her Lightning Lash. To little effect, however, as the androids’ defenses and durability were unlike anything the two of them had ever seen before.

Only the nails on these crates remained. Risking bending his own blade, he took it out and shoved it into the crack under the lid. And with the momentum and destructive power of the shotgun component on the blade, Adam managed to not only pry off the lid, but completely destroyed the nails holding it together, even charring the wood ever so slightly.

The lid violently flew off – but to Adam’s absolute petrifying shock when he looked inside, there was nothing.

The crate was empty.

“What is this?”

But before Adam could even begin to process this anomaly, he heard there in the sky – the unmistakable soaring sound through the violent wind. Breaking the sound barrier with ease. From afar, one could mistake it to be a mere bird, or some kind of airplane.

But when she landed down onto the platform at a speed faster than anyone could humanly track, Adam knew right then – this was the end. Because that was no bird, nor plane.

This was the Guardian of the North Sea, the symbol of Atlas itself.

The Superman.

They had all heard the stories, rumors about this being who soared in the sky, descending from on high down to where mortals lived. Hovering barely above ground as if a display of dominance and status. Subtly saying ‘this is my place, always above you.’ She never walked, never touched her boots down the solid ground. But here, her feet were firmly planted, impossible to knock over or remove.

A woman so tall one could hardly believe she was a woman at all, or even human. Taller than most men, most soldiers. On her back was the regal flowing cape of a god walking amongst men. A pure white cape with a silky red surface underneath. They laid attached firmly behind the golden epaulettes on her shoulders, worn over a dashing white Atlesian military uniform with a red tie. The service cap she wore was adorned with brilliant silver decorating the Atlas emblem, truly it was the purest symbol of the Northern strength and empire.

The woman looked Adam dead in his eyes, piercing with an angry shade of blue. Eyes so focused she never even once blinked, not even in the face of all the debris flying to obscure her vision. She looked straight onward, just as Adam stared back at her with his own jealous rage.

On the side of her hip, the woman carried with her a peculiarly designed rapier. So different compared to Ilia’s design. Resting her hands on the hilt of the sword, her fingers tapped patiently as her eyes scanned the environment. Never once did Adam even think or felt that she was going to draw forth her sword. And yet a growing fear brewed from within – because Adam was more afraid of what those hands wrapped in the pure white gloves were capable of. Fearing the stains that will paint the fabric.

Adam knew of the truth long ago, the truth that one’s true strength could not be within any steel or tool. But instead in what their bare hands could wield.

It wasn’t too long after did many soldiers began emerging from behind the Superman, like a magician pulling a rabbit out of their hat. Atlesians in full white body armor, aiming their rifles toward Adam and Ilia. They were completely surrounded. On one side, the androids which had recently murdered all of their White Fang brethren, on the other – the flowing cape signaling the banner of Atlas.

“Adam Belladonna, by the orders of the High Council of Atlas, you are hereby under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say shall be revealed upon your date before the court. You have the right to an attorney, appointed by a power on high to be impartial, serving only the will of the just and the mighty. Here under the flag of Atlas, your crimes will be paid in full.”

“Adam…” Ilia whispered, trembling.

But the only thing that left Adam’s mouth then was a long sigh of relief. Almost as if the man had been waiting for this moment his entire life. Now unafraid of anything that may come.

“Trust in me, Ilia. Please, I beg of you. The sun will shine on us again – I promise you.”

With that, Adam drew forth his blade to strike a furious anger. A power brewing from within the sheath and the steel, vibrating on a subatomic level with an intense gravitational field that ruptured the air itself. The slash was swift, and so fast sound did not even begin to emerge until a good few seconds after he had already struck.

Slowly, but surely the air began to lighten, splitting off just as the metal of the train began to split. All of the train cars in front of them, Adam never counted how many, though it must have been at least the length of half the entire train. All coated in powerful Atlesian Dust infused metal mere moments ago.

And now they were cleaved violently off, the entire upper section and roofs of these cars viciously severed by this horizontal strike, as easily as a child tearing through paper with a pair of scissors. But this was a clean cut, straight and well-practiced. So much so that Adam had already sheathed his blade by the time the bodies of the many soldiers before them even touched the floor. They were cut clean through, their body armor did little to protect them.

In seeing this blood, Adam felt a twinge of excitement from within, something he could hardly explain. A rage, a madness that echoed like a loud horn.

All of which however paled in comparison to the sound of the distress bell signaling inside Adam’s head as he witness the impossibility standing before him. The soldiers were dead, the train was cut in half, NOBODY could have survived such a strike, he thought.

Nobody – except for the Superman.

The woman stood there without a single scratch. Not even a trace of blood staining her perfect skin nor her white uniform. She merely tilted her head, staring at Adam with her raging eyes.

“What did you do?” Ilia asked, falling to the ground.

“No…” Adam whimpered, “What… the fuck… no… what… WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU?”

Without missing a beat, the woman dashed forth at a speed so fast Adam did not even notice her move. Grabbing tightly onto his White Fang mask, and with little effort, crushing it into pieces with her fingers grabbing tightly onto Adam’s skull. Easily lifting him off his feet.

It felt like he was being lifted by a hook. Any effort of him trying to claw his way out, trying to escape this iron grip was futile. Punching, scraping at the sturdy arm that lifted him up felt like he was punching a concrete wall. The more he struggled, the more he felt her fingers digging deeper into his skull.

He thought he was about to black out. But instead, the woman simply pulled him closer, close enough to hear each other’s breath.

She whispered into his ear:

“I am – Atlas.”

Without even letting him process, the woman turned around to the front of the train and effortlessly threw Adam off deep into the distance as if the man weighed as much as a pebble. Launching him forward hundreds of miles in the distance.

As Adam flew through the air, he thought to himself:

“This… this is what it means… to be Super? To be Beyond?”

For all his life, Adam had always thought he was a fast one, but he knew no matter how fast he could run, nobody could possibly outrun the speed of thought. That was until today at the very least, where in this infinitesimal timeframe before he could even finish his current thought and answer his own question, he noticed a violent whooshing of the wind passing by his side as he flew far past the front of the train.

The violent stop midair almost knocked the wind out of his lungs and he once again found himself at the grip of the Superman, firmly grasping onto his neck. But amazingly showing so much control to the point of not instantly crushing his windpipe, giving him just enough to breathe as she tossed him onto the ground.

The train approached in the far distance, barreling straight toward where they were like that of a massive battering ram. The front train car was cleanly cut in half, the control panels were sliced to ribbons, and the conductor’s body lied bleeding out on the cold steel floor beneath.

Adam knew in a mere few seconds, the approaching train would come to run the two of them over, flattening them with ease. In his delirious madness of course he forgot the most crucial detail in this entire stressful chaos. That being the one standing before him was not a mortal.

She was Beyond that.

Unsheathing her blade for the first time, she pointed forth toward the train. The cylindrical chamber at the hilt of the rapier spun beautifully like that of a revolver, calibrating the correct type of ammunition needed for the job beforehand. But the more the rapier spun, the more the spin looked like an ever-evolving black hole generating a huge amount of power in the purple electric spark bursting out of the blade.

Adam recognized the color – that was the color of Gravity Dust. No mistake about it.

And when she slammed down the sword, stabbing it straight down onto the dirt beneath the train track, Adam could feel the very earth beneath him rumble with a quake unlike anything he could ever dream of. The crack from the ground created by the blade pushed forth a massive wave of energy so dense it instantly pushed back the coming train, flattening the steel with ease as if the entire thing was slamming its head against a concrete wall.

This massive invisible gravitation force field felt wide like an endless sea, and towering like the mightiest monument of man. There was simply something awe-inspiring about a train being lifted off the ground like a piece of tin because of the sudden halt against this invisible wall. Debris flew everywhere, blinding Adam as he struggled to track the whereabouts of the Superman. Who had already flown high up into the sky, leaving her blade behind to maintain the gravity wall as she anticipated the train cars soaring off the ground. Adam tried to track where she was flying, but he seemed to always be one step behind where she was really going to be, always ahead.

Before long, the individual crumpled train cars were being placed down gently to the side of the train track one by one. Each one placed down safely before the shadow of the Superman sped off to catch another one. Adam looked into the sky, beholding this force from on high. The image of a god carrying a hunk of metal on her back, slowly descending to the earth where he was, was something that was seared deep into his mind. The flowing of her cape whistled in the wind, as the sun behind her blinded any mortal’s eyes below, projecting a silhouette that was barely visible underneath the massive cargo train she lifted on her shoulder with ease. Almost as if subtly telling the mortals, all of them, the status of the Superman, the status of a god who will always be above them all.

Adam bit his lower lip, letting it bleed profusely out as the echo of the silent rage inside him burst forth. The dam had been broken, this world had changed, and it shall never be the same ever again now that a god was walking amongst mortals. A god who could carry all of Atlas on her back, a heavenly burden no one could ever hope to comprehend.

Chapter Text

“On the ground White Fang scum.”

“Come quietly now, son. Don’t make it more difficult than it needs to be.”

“Let go of me! Let… ILIA! Don’t you dare touch her you bastard. Don’t you…”

Looking up, barely able to lift his head from being pinned to the ground, Adam could not believe what he was seeing. Nobody laid a hand on his sister, nobody even so much as pushed or handcuffed her. Instead, two detectives merely approached from behind – patting Ilia on the back.

She turned her back, walking away with them. Not even a glance back where Adam lied. Where he lost his strength to fight back, not even enough strength to grind his teeth in rage. Letting the soldiers take him away in their armored vehicles.

His mind was spinning, heavy lights flooded his eyes, twirling him down a mad spiral without an end. This spiral was the pillar of his memory, he dug deep inside, trying to look back through his life to contemplate what just happened. Trying to match the life he had lived with his sister, and how she could’ve come to this.

Before he knew it, however, he was sitting inside an interrogation room with both his hands firmly cuffed onto a steel table. Caught inside this metal box, concrete walls all around him, being lined with a special polymer of some kind, making it perfectly soundproof. There, two Atlesian Knights stood guard by the door, readying their rifles onto him. He assumed the computer would trigger if he were to even try to stand up from his chair. He dared not even lift his pinky finger in fear of the potential speed of these two androids. Though if he were honest with himself, the fear was much more mild compared to the being who descended from the heavens hours ago.

It wasn’t that Adam was afraid of this Guardian being. It was more so that the rage and envy deep inside overtook every other feeling he had toward that flying – demon. The image of an entire train being sliced in half was seared inside his mind. But the one image that paralyzed him entirely was the scene of the Superman standing behind the wreckage he caused, absolutely unfazed by his full power.

He struggled to comprehend and imagine what this Superman being was truly capable of. But the thing he puzzled over most was what exactly this being really was. What species was she? Was she really human? One thing he was certain, however, was that she was not an android. The gravity slice proved it.

Unbeknownst to Adam, while he was sitting there trying to piece together what he had seen, on the other side of the one-way mirror of the interrogation room, the Superman hovered in mid-air, with her arms crossed as she stared intently inside – unblinking.

“Oh, Miss Schnee,” two detectives descended the stairs, removing their hats as they entered. “How do you do?”

The woman responded with a nod.

“Would you like to speak to him before we do?” Asked one of the men, “We can give you a few minutes if you wish.”

She turned her head, still yet to blink.

“No, it’s alright,” she said decisively. “The room is yours, gentlemen. I am here for someone else. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

And thus she floated off down the hallway. But not before leaving one final glance back towards where Adam sat, just as the two detectives closed the door behind them. There was something that caught her eyes, the man seemed familiar somehow. From where she herself could not say for certain.

She had flown around this planet for decades now, most of her life as a matter of fact. With enhanced eyesight that allowed her to see farther than even the horizon allowed, she could see the millions of people who walked this planet. Everybody seemed familiar to her – that was just the way things were when one had been flying for so long.

Much like the one person in this next interrogation room, the one whom she came down here for.

Through the door, she floated in where he sat, a man in a ragged red cloak that seemed as old as the city. He had bandages covering all over his body, on his forehead, under his shirt, on his forearms. His fingers were filthy and rugged, covered in scars and other wounds that simply refused to heal. Similar markings can be found on his face, a dark face covered behind short dark hair.

There were these peculiar shades of red that hovered over small strands of his hair, dangling just over his forehead. From afar, one could be mistaken for thinking the red was in his eyes, raging like an angry demon. But his eyes were silver, not red. A very peculiar color.

The man did not seem fazed by the floating Superman, in his eyes there was only exhaustion. Like he had been staying up all night, now only trying to catch some sleep, even if it was for a few hours. There was very little fear in him, even when confronted by the most powerful person on the planet.

“You were hiding on that train during the incident,” she said, looking down, “I want to know why. Talk! I want answers.”

The man, however, did not even flinch. He only tapped his finger on the table his hands were cuffed to, as if nervously waiting for something. After a good long minute of silence, he muttered under his raspy breath:

“Milk…”

The Superman raised her eyebrow. The man continued:

“… and cookies. Mother used to make me some in the cold weather. It’s cold out today, don’t you think so?”

“I wouldn’t know,” she said, inexplicably holding a plate of cookies and a glass of milk when mere moments ago there was absolutely nothing in her hands.

“Of course, you wouldn’t,” the man chuckled. “Nothing can pierce your skin. Cold, heat, steel, acid, poison. Skin of diamond a lot of people call you.”

“You can drop the act by the way, Rubio,” she told him, setting the plate down. “I’ve disabled the camera.”

“Thank the Seasons for that,” he sighed, relaxing at last before shoving a handful of the cookies into his mouth. “I am famished. Have you ever had to test your limits? Put your super speed to the test?”

“No… I suppose not.”

“Weiss Schnee the Invincible Girl, title was well-earned I suppose. The boy on the train learned that the hard way, didn’t he?”

“You mean Adam? He caused a real commotion. He snuck past my hearing somehow. I didn’t hear him until he triggered the alarm. Am I getting rusty?”

“Well, can you hear what the detectives are asking him in the other room?”

Despite the thick concrete walls separating both soundproof rooms down the long hallway, the sound coming from the other room was still very much audible to her ears. Detective Vasilias and his partner were doing the old ‘good cop, bad cop’ routine. It was rather tiresome.

“I don’t think the problem is that you can’t hear what’s going on,” said Rubio. “I think the problem is that you’re not listening. You need to focus.”

“I am focused.”

“Not on the right things, the things that matter,” Rubio shook his head. “If you can focus, you can save the world.”

“My concern is not the world, only Atlas. Enough of this, tell me how close you are to finding King Ozymandias?”

“Well, he’s not an easy person to find. It’s not as if he left behind his calling card. The man’s not exactly thrilled to be found out just so your people can arrest him.”

“General Ironwood is offering amnesty. He does not want to arrest the King of Vale, how would that look to the press abusing a man of holy power?”

“About the same?” Rubio shrugged. “Let’s not pretend the media is feeling favorable towards a government that is suppressing their freedom to speak freely.”

“They lost that freedom when they smeared and slandered Mayor Ebi during the Patch shooting. I cannot allow that sort of immorality to run rampant. The media needs to be held accountable.”

“And I don’t disagree with you there, but regardless, the King doesn’t feel safe unless he has some guarantee for his safety during negotiations.”

“I could’ve scanned the entire planet and searched for him within a matter of hours and have him thrown into prison twice as fast. But I didn’t. Isn’t that enough of a show of goodwill?”

“Hmm… maybe. Or maybe it’s just a sign that he’s besting your sight still with his magick.”

Weiss sighed, lowering her head:

“Finish your milk, I’ll clean up for you. If you can get me an audience with the King in two days’ time, I’ll talk to the General and maybe he’ll be able to make an appeal to the Council to give you a reduced sentence. Maybe community service, and that’s it. I don’t want you staying in here for long, you know that, right?”

Rubio gulped down the entire glass in one breath, wiping his lips he said:

“I do. But I’ll need your help. Rumor has it that the King is hiding with a rebel base somewhere in the south of Forever Fall. That White Fang boy, Adam, right? Perhaps he saw something during his train heist. Give me some time alone with him, maybe my Semblance will show me something.”

“You’re asking me to stick out my neck a whole lot, you know that?” Weiss grinned softly.

To which Rubio smiled back:

“Nothing you can’t handle. You can take it.”

“For all this effort, it would’ve been easier if you had just joined the Empire. After all this time, you still refuse to be by my side?”

Rubio shook his head:

“You know I can’t do that. We both know that nobody can truly be by your side. We are all beneath you – always. That will never change.”

Weiss turned her back, still with her arms crossed. And yet the room had been cleaned up faster than Rubio’s eyes could track. She floated outside to catch the two Atlesian Knights’ attention at the end of the hall.

“He isn’t talking,” she said. “Maybe he’ll open up if you put him in the chair. Start on low, but don’t hesitate to go max voltage.”

Rubio’s last words echoed inside Weiss’s head, haunting her. Rubio once said something similar a very long time ago. And it looked like he had not changed his mind. Weiss leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. Pondering about the possibilities of the future, because she was envious of what Rubio was capable of with his own Semblance.

Rubio Rose was a seer, that was his ability. He could see into the future. How far he could see was a little unclear. And how vague and murky it was seemed to vary on a daily basis. It was however absolute, and could not be changed. Once Rubio made a prediction, it was bound to happen, and it will not change. Naturally with an ability as powerful as this, he would often keep it a secret from others. Keeping it from his friends, families, from government and kingdoms. Some people of the underground world would dub him the Street Prophet.

But only a handful of people on the planet were aware of that powerful eyesight. And Weiss Schnee was one of those people. She had always wondered why Rubio chose to reveal the secret to her. She had always figured it was because she too shared a powerful pair of eyes that could see far beyond the horizon. She thought they shared a kindred spirit of some kind. But she could never truly read what Rubio was really thinking.

From afar Weiss began picking up chatter from the schoolboys. She recognized Cardin Winchester’s voice, alongside one of his teammates Lie Ren. They met once during a class inspection, rambunctious lot these boys were. Especially that Cardin boy.

“Oh hey, it’s the Ice Queen,” Cardin said to his friends, waving his hand. “Princess! Just the person I wanted to see.”

The boy was curt, but predictable. A nice change of pace from Rubio at the very least.

“You’re not hovering?” Ren asked as the boys approached.

Weiss looked down at her feet, only now noticing.

“Ah yes, I was deep in thought,” she said before floating back up once more.

“So what’s going on, Princess?” Cardin smiled. “So anyway, me and the boys here got an assignment to patrol some of the Patch refugee camps. We was thinking maybe you like to come with us, and maybe grab a drink later in the evening? We’re going to the dance halls later.”

“Patrolling is serious business,” Weiss’s gaze sharpened into a scowl. “I would hope you will be taking them a little more seriously.”

“Yeah, well, I am,” said Cardin, “but now that everybody’s getting their Semblances it’ll be a breeze right? No Grimm can mess with us when we’re this strong.”

“Is that what you think?” Weiss hovered above the young tall boy. “Is this just a game to you? Are the innocent people who lost their lives to these monsters a joke? Are the countless brave men and women who volunteered their lives for the Empire a joke?”

“Whoa, chill out, Princess,” Cardin raised his hands. “I’m just saying they don’t seem so tough. I’ve handled a few big Beowolves myself. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“When you’ve seen the things I’ve seen, maybe you’ll think differently,” she said.

“Please, Princess. I bet you if I could fly like you I can be a Superman, too, no problem. You just wake up every day, salute the flag, sing the anthem and go out to clean up the small fries. I can do that, too, maybe even better.”

“Is that a fact?” Weiss raised an eyebrow.

“What are you doing? You dumbass!” Ren whispered, tugging on his arm.

“You don’t want to take on this wager,” said Weiss.

“If I were wimpy Renny boy here, sure. But I’m not like him. I can lift a truck on my shoulder like it’s nothing.”

“Then I’ll make it easy for you then,” Weiss extended her hand as if to offer a handshake. “If you can pull me down to have my feet touch the ground – I’ll talk to General Ironwood and have him appoint you as the new Superman of the State of Atlas.”

And just like that, with this one small wager, they had managed to attract a crowd of onlookers. All gathering from afar at the sight of the Superman looking down towards a mortal man. Both of these people were fine specimens of peak physical condition. Tall, muscular, and extremely powerful.

There was, however, a certain gravitas about Weiss that made people drawn to her. Something about the way she floated high above the ground that made people question her physical condition, even to go as far as to question the state of her mortality, and what species she truly was.

“Hey, Ren!” One of the students approached him from the emerging crowd. A young blond student in white uniform.

“Oh, Jaune. You’re here.”

“What’s going on, man?”

“What else? It’s Cardin being Cardin again. Made this stupid bet, trying to show off his strength. You know, same old same old. Guy just doesn’t know when to quit.”

“Holy crap, it’s the Superman,” Jaune stared on. “This isn’t going to look good.”

“No, it isn’t. I’m going to have to stick around to clean up his mess again.”

“I guess he stands a better chance than anybody in this school,” Jaune scratched his head. “He won the jackpot of the Semblance lottery. Is it really genetics? Or is it random chance?”

“I’d say genetics,” said Ren, “super strength just kind of fits a knucklehead like him. But none of that really matters. It’s the Superman we’re talking about.”

“I never really understood why she’s called the Superman when she’s a woman,” said Jaune.

“You can ask our professors about it. They’ll probably hit you with a bunch of research papers on etymology, philosophy, biology, and the like. I actually have several books on the subject if you want to borrow them.”

“Ah, ha-ha, no thanks. It may be a little too advanced for me.”

And without another moment of delay, Cardin had begun pulling. He grabbed a hold of Weiss’s palm, wrapping both his grips around her, pulling as hard as he could with every ounce of strength powering his calves. So much to the point the concrete ground beneath him had cracked like they were made of glass, leaving very clear indentations.

The force Cardin was exerting out of his entire body was immense. Overwhelming everybody nearby with an Aura that was unlike anything they had ever experienced before. Almost as if an invisible gravitational force was pushing them back for the showdown between two of the strongest people on the planet.

Cardin’s body began to glow a bright furious shade of red, pouring out from every inch of his body as his veins began to pop up on his forehead and the back of his hands. He repositioned himself numerous times throughout, trying different angles to find a convenient point of leverage.

Despite all that strength, crushing the concrete beneath his feet into powder, the Superman remained floating in midair, still yet to move a single inch. She hovered above him, clasping his grip as she stared down with an unblinking gaze of rage. Or at least that was what Jaune assumed at first, but it was quite frankly hard to tell. These shining blue eyes were focused, not really one belonging to a rage-fueled monster or god. Instead, they seemed a lot more disappointed somehow, a lot more somber as the minutes went on. It was as if Weiss was expecting an entirely different outcome – saddened by the things that remained unchanged.

“If this is the best the sons and daughters of Atlas could produce – then perhaps it is Destined that this Empire will one day fall,” Weiss said just loud enough for Cardin to hear, “are you going to be the end of Atlas?”

Cardin seemed too distracted with his struggle to even hear what she had just said. The rage was piling up inside, and he had yet to stop pulling with every ounce of energy left inside him. The crack on the concrete ground beneath him continued to grow with each passing second.

All that effort, in the end, was rendered completely futile at the ringing sound of the alert siren in the distance, roaring by tall megaphones suspended on various flagpoles and hovering surveillance droids. All of which echoed into an ear-piercing sound so incredibly loud that some of the students leaped back from where they stood, startled by this sudden growing noise. It was a sound that they had been trained for in countless drills during their time at this Academy or similar training camps. It was all too familiar, the urgency the alarm siren sounded off.

What wasn’t familiar was the distant roaring of a beast far off in the land thousands of miles away, seemingly coming from where Forever Fall was, where the train crash was just a day ago. It was at this moment the students realized that this was no drill – this was real.

This was the siren alerting them to an impending Grimm attack – disaster status: Kaiju.

An old ancient term that came from a civilization long lost to time, buried beneath the sand. Archeological findings and available texts suggested, however, that this was the term ancient people used to describe any sufficiently large monster. A rare breed of creatures long thought to be extinct, now inexplicably still roaming the planet serving as reanimated creatures of Grimm – a race of Giants. The roar of this monster overwhelming the booming echo of the siren was evident enough of its gargantuan size.

Many of the students were stunned, startled by the scale of it all, some even tripping over themselves as they scattered off deeper into the Academy where it was safe. But only one in this crowd remained focused among the commotion, her eyes steeled towards the direction of the roar, powered by absolute focus and determination. Her hands still yet to let go of Cardin’s grip, or rather it was the other way around – Cardin being the one who still had yet to let go.

And that was the true difference between these two specimens – one was made of determination and focus, the other was forged out of simple pure obsession.

Still yet to let go of the grip, but only now realizing he was being lifted through the air, darting at an unimaginable speed. The overwhelming strength of both the wind and the flight of the Superman forced Cardin’s grip off her, thus falling down to the crimson forest below.

He could only catch small glimpses of what the mountainous monster in the distance looked like – a monstrous drake of some kind, with a huge white dome for a skull and fangs sharper than any blade he could ever imagine. Arms dragging along with twisted claws growing out of lanky bony fingers that were still easily the size of a massive tree trunk.

Rows upon rows of teeth baring against the approaching flying Weiss Schnee, who was but a single speck so small, she might as well be an ant compared to the Giant before her. One slobbering with hideous Grimm essence and foul breath that could corrode the nearest plant if given the chance. The creature’s red eyes glowed with intense fire of a hunger that could not be contained.

But Weiss’s shining blue eyes shined brighter, shimmering like diamonds as she casually broke the sound barrier flying towards the lumbering Giant drake in the distance spewing out its putrid toxic mouth foam. Cardin could only catch the tail end of the scene, but it was still enough for him to witness her flying with such force and ferocity that the creature’s skull was instantly shattered into fragments of the undead flesh upon contact, so fast Cardin could barely keep up and process what had happened.

He knew, however, the moment the monster stopped roaring was the moment this battle was over. He knew then – the Giants which once roamed this vast mysterious planet were merely the precursors to the strength of the ultimate being in the evolutionary line.

The colossal stature of monsters and men meant nothing in the face of a being who could soar far above the skies and deep into the murky cosmic heavens above. Only to then descend upon the realms of mortal men to show everybody the power to break a planet in two. The ultimate evolution of power belonged not to those who walked this planet, but instead to the one being who broke off the gravity of the surface and achieved the freedom of flight. In breaking off the planet’s gravity, she may have also broken off the gravity of Destiny itself.

“Come on, hurry,” Sun said to his White Fang brethren, hopping through the bushes.

“Slow down sun,” said Tukson, following shortly behind. “How do you even know Adam is even there anymore?”

“I don’t. But knowing Adam, he isn’t going down without a fight. They’re going to have to drag him kicking and screaming if they want to arrest him. Plus, we still need to find Ilia, we can’t just leave her out there.”

“There’s the train track!” Sienna called them from afar, looking through her binoculars.

“By the Seasons,” Sun looked on in horror at the sight of destruction. They were still a far distance away. But once Sienna handed Sun her binoculars, the carnage they saw was indescribable.

A massive crater located at the very center of the track with construction robots nearby still there trying to clean up the remnants of the train crushed like a tin can. Carriages still scattered about, some with their walls punctured. Walls made of steel, completely crumpled like they were made of paper.

What was most intriguing, however, was the single frozen rapier lying in the middle of the crater on the track. The blade dug deep into the soil, like some kind of flower bursting out of the ground with frozen petals erupting from its roots. Conveniently, none of the construction robots seemed to even notice the presence of that sword, let alone go near it. It was as if they were programmed to ignore the blade entirely.

There was a certain gravity about the sword, however, that drew Sun’s gaze. Something about the way the blade was placed into the ground made him want to walk up and pull it out of the soil. His gut feeling told him, however, that even if he had tried to do such a thing, he would not be able to pull the sword out of the ground. Nobody on the planet could.

Except…

“SUN, LOOK OUT!” Sienna cried, pointing high up in the sky.

Emerging from the misty fog of the Forever Fall forest, stood the gigantic shadow of a black beast roaring to the heavens. Its steps were heavy, lumbering forth as if an entire mountain had learned to walk. The power of this Giant beast felt primordial, echoing of the ancient past of a world roamed by mysterious gargantuan monsters.

“Let’s get out of here!” Sienna pulled Sun back. He nodded his head and the three of them began to flee back where they came from.

But not before Sun took one final look back to where the monster stood, only to see a small speck flying from the West at a speed that defied imagination. Instantly breaking the sound barrier to ram into the skull of the monster, instantly rupturing its brain into foul Grimm essence.

Never in his entire life had Sun ever felt so small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things. How could a mortal like himself compare to the presence of this one being who soared so far above the heavens? This thing, whatever she was, was divine. Sun could think of no other explanation.

Chapter Text

Menagerie was a land once known long ago as Eden, beautiful and luscious. Theorized by several prominent scientists and archeologists as the origin of Remnant itself, the birthplace of mortals. Every mortal on the planet, human or Faunus, was said to be descended from the first peoples of Eden.

War God after War God would come and go, kings and gods would fight, and the land would change. Ravaged by the fires of the weaponry and steel. Eden too did not survive such catastrophes. It would be burned and conquered by many that came before.

The God King Ozymandias once took this land from Mistral. With the power of the Holy Prophet King, and his eyes that could see far in the distance, he marched his army down south to take Eden with little resistance. Renaming it to Menagerie to use as a house for refugees and those deemed undesirable, illegals, outcasts, some criminals. Many Faunus also got caught in this predicament as part of the treaty between Mistral and the Valley, these Faunus would be put under Ozymandias’s jurisdiction. With him in hiding, however, the Atlas Empire now took over the responsibilities, sending food and aid when needed.

Many sky ships would fill the clouds this day, soaring towards Menagerie with crates upon crates of supplies. Leading the flight of course was none other than the most powerful being on the planet herself.

Her cape would flutter behind her to block out the very sun itself. Legend often spoke of a Grimm monster with a wingspan so large it would create shadows across half the entire planet. When Weiss flew far above in the air she would often be mistaken for this mythical monstrous bird of legend.

“Look, mommy,” one of the kids amongst the gathering crowd pointed her finger, tugging on her mother’s sleeve. “It’s the Superman.”

“Don’t come near her, honey.” The woman pulled her daughter back.

“Oh, it’s alright,” Weiss smiled coldly as she landed. “Don’t be afraid. I have great control of my strength.”

“Forgive me, but I’d still like to be safe than sorry,” said the woman.

“Why are you called Superman if you are a woman?” The little girl approached her, ignoring her mother.

The girl put a smile on Weiss’s face. Kneeling down she patted the little girl on her head. Only now noticing how she still towered over the girl, with her cape and epaulettes creating an imposing silhouette.

“I am – that I am. You have my permission to call me whatever you wish. By a title, or by my name. I am Weiss Schnee by the way. Please to meet you.”

The girl looked up at her with sparkling eyes of wonder.

“Miss Schnee, will I be able to fly like you when I grow up?”

Weiss’s smile disappeared for a mere split second, before reappearing again, reassuring the little girl.

“Anything is possible if you believe – and if you tell the story of those who fly.”

A commotion was heard in the distance as a couple began pushing through the gathering crowd around Weiss. Her hearing picked up their footsteps and their racing heart. She wasn’t entirely sure if it was due to exhaustion, excitement, or anger.

There from the crowd emerged a large man and a woman, presumably they were husband and wife. The man stood taller than even Weiss herself, at a staggering eight foot at the very least. His dark black hair and thick beard melded together to form an imposing majestic expression, almost like that of a lion of sort. And it would not be far off, for this man was Ghira Belladonna, leader of the Faunus people here in Menagerie. He wore with him a tattered purple farmer’s garment, a simple worker’s tunic to work within the heat of this continent. For he was a man of the people, not a king.

There beside him was his wife, Kali Belladonna. Who herself was a modest woman wearing a similar tunic to her husband. She carried with her a long wooden rake, of which Weiss assumed must mean the two of them came from the nearby farm when Weiss and the Atlesians arrived – occupied with the ordinary hard labor. Her dark short hair was adorned with a purple head wrap of some kind, barely covering her cat ears. The woman marched forward with angry eyes of determination, yellow eyes focused toward Weiss herself with a hidden intensity within.

Weiss knew exactly why the woman was angry, and she hoped deep down inside she was ready to weather this storm.

“Salutation, Ms. Belladonna. Pleasure to see you,” Weiss extended her hand to shake.

Only to be met with a surprise slap to the face, coming out of left field as Kali dropped the rake on the ground. Weiss’s vision was able to see fast enough to predict the slap coming. But she still did not dodge, taking the full impact of the swing. Which wasn’t even able to hit hard enough to make her head tilt. It was as if Kali was smacking on a block of stone – or a block of diamond.

“You dare show your face here after what you did to my son?” Kali growled. “That’s right, I saw what happened on the news. You people disgust me, parading around a prisoner for execution. You think that’s something to be proud of?”

Weiss could only respond with a sigh:

“Your hand, you’re hurt. I don’t need my enhanced vision to see the broken bones. Please let me help you.”

“Don’t you dare touch me you monster. Bring my son back goddamn it! I told you to stay out of White Fang business, why didn’t you fucking listen?”

“Kali, please,” Ghira said, gently restraining her.

“Let go of me, Ghira. You’re gonna let this flying witch and her Empire take our son and daughter just like that? I said let go!”

“He was a criminal, Kali,” Weiss said sternly. “He tried to rob a train. And he cut the entire thing in half.”

“He wasn’t a criminal!” Kali cried, “He was lost, confused.”

“I can’t go easy on him just for you, Kali. There are standards to uphold, I can’t make exceptions.”

“How rich of you to bring up standards. Don’t try to take the moral high ground here when you and your Empire are out there ruining people’s lives.”

“Enough, Kali,” Ghira pulled her back gently. “The Empire is here to help, we should be hospitable.”

“How long are you going to continue licking their boots, Ghira? They took our son! And you’re just going to let them get away with it?”

“Better be under their supervision than to live under the rule of the Prophet King,” he said. “Under his rule, we would’ve been slaves, or worse.”

“Please, Kali,” Weiss extended her hand. “We have medical supplies to treat your hand. Let me help you. Let me make things right.”

Kali only responded to the gesture by spitting on Weiss’s face. Weiss still did not move, merely standing there taking the full brunt of her anger. Weiss felt no urge for vendetta, instead, she only felt an immense sadness swelling from within. Kali pulled herself from Ghira’s restraint and walked off away from the crowd, but not before uttering her final words:

“You’ve done enough. I hope you rot in hell.”

Ghira could do nothing but watch as she trailed off into the distance. His tensed muscle relaxed, as a weight was lifted off his shoulders. Sighing, he felt as if he had been holding back an entire train. He knew he was only holding back his wife, but his body was still shivering. Hands trembling with exhaustion.

“How is Ilia these days?” Ghira turned to Weiss. “Is she… doing okay?”

“She’s still getting used to school and all that. But she’s settling in okay. Our housing programs are top-notch, don’t you worry. I’ll fly to help if I ever hear any trouble. She’s a very skilled young woman, she has talent. If she passes the Academy she may have a bright future working as a detective.”

Ghira nodded his head solemnly.

“Ghira, you know your son isn’t being executed, right? He’s being tried. They are going to give him a fair trial. That’s the law.”

“I don’t think Kali sees it that way,” he shook his head.

“You’ll at least come to the trial, won’t you?”

“Of course. But… um, do you think you can talk to the DA, or whoever is in charge. Maybe get him a reduced charge? My wife’s heart may give in if any more bad news show up to our door.”

“He still has to answer for what he’s done. A lot of men died on that train that day. It is a complicated matter, though. As it is with all cases involving juveniles and young men. But… I’ll see what I can do. If I talk to them, they may be able to get him a shorter sentence, or some community service. Just some hours per week for a few years. You may even be able to visit.”

“Thank you… you have been a great help to this world. But… Kali does have a point about the Empire. There are things that are – questionable.”

“What do you mean? We are here trying to do good, Ghira. Atlas has managed to completely wipe out the Grimm population of the Northern lands. We’re here to do the same in the Valley and these Southern lands.”

“Yes, but subjugation? That’s how my wife described it. Why march your army down south when you alone could fly across the globe and wipe out the remaining Grimm population. You can do that… can you?”

“This Council recognizes the valor you have displayed serving this country, GA Jameson S. Ironwood, just as it recognizes the contributions you have made alongside fellow Fleet Admiral Maru and GAF Samantha Vulf during the numerous Northern campaigns against Grimm and pirates alike. While the intentions are laudable, this Council announces that further expansion into the Western lands of Vacuo would no doubt be considered an act of aggression towards King Theodore and his peoples, thus a declaration of war would be inevitable. Thereby we the Council of Atlas must reject proposition RW-8YRV82281 by the esteemed GA Jameson S. Ironwood. This meeting is adjourned.”

Thus, with the strike of the gavel, the men and women of this round table would promptly dismiss themselves from the room in an orderly fashion. They spoke not a word amongst themselves, simply walking away without much thought to what had happened. Leaving behind just General Ironwood and his two close assistants and friends Professor Arthur Watts and Doctor Pietro Polendina.

“Who would’ve thought,” said Watts, “the same country that had no problem taking over the Valley would now hesitate to take over the Kingdom of Sand.”

“I don’t think they’re hesitating,” said Ironwood. “I think we’re still on the same page, but they must think that it’s best to bide our time.”

“Gentlemen, please,” said Pietro. “Our goal should be the extermination of Grimm kind on the Western lands.”

“Indeed,” said Ironwood. “I don’t enjoy the taking of these lands, but it is the best course of action for the country, and for the world. That’s just a fact.”

“We’ll probably disagree on that over dinner, old friend,” Pietro smiled.

Their conversation would then be interrupted by the door of the conference room swinging open as Weiss Schnee floated casually inside. The three men just mere moments ago heard her flying back by the rumble and noise outside the building, instinctively turning their heads toward the door when she landed, though technically speaking her feet never actually touched the ground, but they could still hear her. It was a habit for them at this point.

“Weiss, honey,” Pietro walked forth, pulling her in for a hug. “How was your day? You’re not too tired?”

“No, Pa,” Weiss smiled, embracing him back. “I never get tired, you know that.”

“I worry, is all. I know it’s been stressful for you lately.”

“Indeed,” Professor Watts stroke his mustache. “You are very strong my dear, but I hope that isn’t stopping you from attending your classes.”

“No, sir,” Weiss responded. “Even when on duty I can still hear your lecture, I’ve even memorized the one you had this morning. I’ll have your report assignment turned in by tomorrow, you can be sure of that.”

“Let us hope so,” Watts nodded, before taking out a cigar and lighting it with his golden lighter.

Professor Watts had always been a good man, with a very strict way of life, one he tried to instill in every single one of his pupils, including Weiss herself. She had a great deal of respect for the man, but she could never really get a good read on what he was really thinking. He was very similar to Rubio in that regard.

But the most enigmatic person in this entire room was not Professor Watts. But rather…

“General Schnee,” the General saluted her where he stood.

Here was a man so robotic and cold even Weiss Schnee the Ice Princess herself often found difficult to handle. From the immaculate way he dressed to his firm posture, it was sometimes hard to believe that this was a human being and not some kind of highly developed Atlesian android. Weiss knew for a fact that if she were to fight this man, she could effortlessly crush him like a bug if she so wished.

But the fighting Aura this man exuded was something unlike any other human being she had met. It was strong as iron or steel, with a heavy dominating gaze of power. He was human, yes, but he also commanded the most powerful army on the planet. Weiss Schnee was the envoy of this army, the flag that waved in the far distance whenever they would march forth into battle and conquest. But a flag could never replace the hand that carried that banner.

There was something about him that commanded respect. A will from within that dominated the minds of weaker men and women. Something else about the General too that Weiss scarcely ever noticed – and it was the fact that this man was incredibly tall, abnormally so. If she wasn’t floating off the ground right now, she would be looking up to this man from below.

“Gentlemen,” Ironwood turned to his two colleagues, “can you give us a moment? Thank you.”

Watts and Pietro nodded their heads, walking out of the room. Not before Pietro took Weiss in once more to kiss her on the cheek.

“Don’t be home too late, now.”

“I won’t, I’ll pick up dinner on the way home,” she said, kissing him back.

And thus the two left Weiss and the General alone in this conference room.

“So,” said the General, “report, Miss Schnee. Did you get him to talk?”

“I did, sir. Rubio is still Rubio. He is a good man. But not Atlesian, he was insistent on that. He wants to talk to the Belladonna boy, he said it will help him find King Oz much easier this way.”

Ironwood sighed:

“I can never understand how his Semblance works. Well, if he says it will work then I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. I’m just concerned is all.”

“About what?”

“Ozymandias is an incredibly powerful wizard. People say he was a fraud, a charlatan but I wouldn’t be so quick to doubt his power. There is a lot of trickery and illusion magick he is capable of, things Atlesian science can’t fully explain. His fighting Aura is also very peculiar, too.”

“You have experience fighting him?”

“Well, I never met him directly myself. But the Fleet Admiral has. You can ask him about it, but I don’t think he’s ready to divulge the secrets behind all of his scars. Those two have tried to kill each other more times than I can count. But anyway, if Rubio said he can do it, then go ahead and proceed with the plan. I don’t trust him, but if you do, then that may be good enough.”

“What do you mean you don’t trust him?”

“Rubio is one of the most dangerous men on the planet. His ability to see the future is peculiar. You can’t seriously tell me you haven’t noticed that this is the same ability as that so-called Prophet King.”

“Are you suggesting that Rubio is actually Ozymandias in disguise?”

“It’s unlikely,” Ironwood admitted, “but it is still in the realm of possibility. Must I remind you that we still have yet to retrieve the body of the one Summer Rose? Without it, you cannot confirm his DNA. The blood of royals and legends should not be underestimated as well. We Atlesians are not like these people of the Valley. Their blood is thick, and immensely powerful. There is some unexplainable magick within their bloodlines that is still a mystery to Atlesian science. That is why I do not trust him.”

Weiss paused for a moment, looking at the General in the eyes. Their gaze met, ice and steel. She scanned something on his features, he wasn’t entirely sure what. But she looked upon him for a good long while before descending on the ground, feet firmly planted on the floor and walked up to him, looking up:

“General – if I weren’t Atlesian, would you still trust me?”

His eyes never once diverted elsewhere, he never even blinked when confronting this young woman. Instead, he simply held her by the shoulders, before patting down her epaulettes as if he were wiping dust off them. Readjusting them to align perfectly with her uniform. He then proceeded to readjust her red tie, tugging at it ever so slightly to make sure it wasn’t coming loose.

“Wear this uniform proudly Miss Schnee. We’re all counting on you. Go to your class now, don’t miss any of the lectures. And make sure you’re eating properly, three meals a day. You’re dismissed for the day – General.”

Ironwood said as he saluted her before turning his back to the glass window of the conference room, contemplating something as he stared forth in the distance. Ironwood had always had the reputation of being a man who took concern for his men, for his soldiers, even back when he was just a simple private, working his way up the ranks. The man never forgot his roots, and would often be seen visiting the cemetery to honor old fallen soldiers. Weiss saw it herself while she was on patrol.

For someone as cold and stern as the General, Weiss could always take comfort in the weird fact that Ironwood was a straightforward man, one she could easily read like an open book. She didn’t really understand it herself, but there weren’t any secrets for her to dig up, or for anyone for that matter. Everything Ironwood had ever done was publicized and recorded down somewhere either in a news article, or a history book. They would even go as far as to teach the history of this man’s life in elementary schools. This man was a hero, and the reason why people entrusted him to be the General of the Atlesian Army.

This was someone Weiss respected and looked up to, she thought to herself as she floated down the hallway. Being the strongest being on the planet, Weiss was appointed a high-ranking military position as a token, a symbol of the Atlesian envoy. She was a general in name, but she wasn’t assigned a division of soldiers. She commanded no man nor woman, because her job was not to lead an army like Ironwood. Instead, her job was to inspire the army.

Weiss always felt she had much to learn from the General even after attaining this godlike strength. Crushing the planet into smithereens would be absolute child’s play. But in order to unite the peoples and command their armies required a different set of skills entirely. It was a task that Weiss thought may be impossible even for someone blessed with the strength she possessed. Strength of force could not and will not unite the peoples’ hearts.

Lost deep in thought, Weiss was then snapped back to reality when she was confronted by a figure standing at the end of the hallway – it was a student, a young blond man, one she recognized from before.

“Your name,” she hovered closer, “it’s Jaune – Jaune Arc, right?”

“Yes, ma’am… General, sir… um… ahem… Superman…” the young man fumbled, scratching his head. Before adjusting himself into an awkward salute.

“What are you doing out here? Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

“Ah, well about that… yes. We were in the middle of our swordsmith workshop and I asked to be excused to my locker room, and… well… I forgot something, so I went down here to check and…”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Weiss cut him off. “Your heart is beating like an orchestral drum, even without my enhanced eyes I could still hear it from a mile away.”

“You got me, ha,” he laughed nervously.

“Out with it. The truth this time.”

“Okay, okay,” he sighed. “The truth. Wow, this isn’t going to be easy to say. I was going over in my head trying to figure out what I wanted to say. I even practiced in front of the mirror if you can believe it.”

“Go on.”

“Well… okay, here goes.”

The young man glanced up at the tall floating Weiss, with her arms crossed, ready to listen. His eyes almost seemed to glisten with sweat, somehow. It seemed bizarre, but he proceeded to blurt out:

“I really like you. Will you go out with me?”

Many things began cycling through her mind the moment those words left his mouth. A million questions popped up, but the peculiar thing here was the fact that none of these things were born from any sense of confusion, shock or even from being flustered.

No, instead the emotions swelling only made Weiss grimace, frowning into a death gaze with ice-cold determination. She was scanning the boy intently, using every ounce of power she could muster to empower her godlike vision in order to detect the hidden treachery within this young man.

The words Ironwood warned her about echoed back to her at this very moment. The words proclaiming that King Ozymandias, master magician and trickster, one of the most powerful men on the entire planet was capable of a magick that would drive one to insanity trying to decode.

The Atlesian Empire was the most dominant force on this planet, but the forces behind the Prophet King Oz were not to be underestimated. A master illusionist would surely have spies among the midst of this mighty city. Roaming the streets of the Valley, pretending to be just like any ordinary citizen. Waiting within the shadows to strike at those who let their guard down. This was something dangerous, and not to be trifled with. One must be vigilant, quick to pick up any hints that things may be off. Even the smallest of details must not be disregarded.

“Go to class now,” Weiss told him sternly. “I won’t ask you twice.”

And just like that, she flew off down the hallway and out into the open sky. It took a mere few seconds before she arrived at the office of records across the wide Academy campus. Where she barged inside, walking on air. There on the reception table sat Ceil Soleil, apprentice secretary, Weiss assumed. Since the regular receptionist was nowhere to be seen and there was currently an apprentice program the Professors were hosting across campus.

“Give me all the files you have on Jaune Arc,” Weiss demanded, to which Ceil simply nodded.

Typing into the computer, she managed to pull up a complete history sheet on the holographic display in front of them. Everything there was to know about this young student on the page, to which Weiss scanned within a few seconds before declaring that there did not seem to be anything out of the ordinary. At first glance at least.

The boy was from the Valley originally, with great-grandparents who emigrated from the Kingdom of Mistral, who then married into the Valeans. Normally that may have been a cause for concern being a Valean but in this case, it did not seem very likely due to his unremarkable performance as both a student and a fighter. Mediocre physique and academic performance, with even several notes from the professors to possibly send the boy back home to find work elsewhere on the countryside. His weaponry was just an ordinary sword and shield with no Dust augment of any kind. And his Aura levels were not anything to write home about either.

Regardless of the facts, Weiss still remained vigilant and continued to scan through the records, scrolling down trying to find anything worth looking into. All of it was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder, however. Turning around Weiss came face to face with a young girl who looked too familiar, but one she could not immediately recognize.

The girl stood there wearing a black dress with red frills, over her shoulders were a familiar piece of a cloak, sewn in a crimson color almost looking as if it was dipped in blood. She had very short hair with a few red accents throughout, her bangs draping over that familiar pair of silver eyes. Once Weiss noticed the color, she instantly knew right there and then who this was.

“Rubio?”

The girl simply responded to the greeting with a grin.

Chapter Text

1 hour earlier…

Everybody in the school’s cafeteria could not stop talking about what had happened earlier in the day. One moment they were scrambling about from the alarm siren signaling a disaster Grimm status Kaiju. The next they were going back to class like nothing had ever happened. The body of the gigantic beast had already begun deteriorating at this point, but due to its massive size, it was a rather slow process. The professors predicted it to completely disintegrate by the end of the day.

But Grimm attacks, even ones of similar sizes, were an often occurrence for the students here on this campus. The one thing that occupied everybody’s mind that day instead was Cardin’s little stunt he pulled in front of the whole school when he made that bet and challenged the Superman.

“Ah ha-ha, what on earth were you thinking, you knucklehead?” Elm burst out laughing at the table. “Did you really think you could stand a chance?”

“I’d like to see you try,” Cardin chuckled, “see if you fare any better.”

“Hey, bro, I know my limits,” Elm threw her hands up. “You’re strong, dude. But you need to learn when to quit.”

“Elm is right,” Ren agreed. “Having super strength for a Semblance is nice. But it isn’t exactly a unique ability. You can achieve similar results from amplifying yourself with your Aura if you are able to master that.”

“Is that so?” Cardin thought about it for a second, “Well, I suppose that just means I’ll have to train harder. Combine my strength with my Aura to be even stronger. When that happens, the Ice Queen will have no choice but to go out with me.”

“I never figured you were into that type,” Elm smirked.

“What can I say? I like strong older women. You can put on a suit, too, Elm and who knows. I might ask you out for dinner.”

“In your dreams, lover boy,” she and the rest of the table laughed on.

“Besides,” Cardin smiled, “I’m not the only one on this boat. I swear to you, half of this entire school has a crush on the Ice Queen. Even Jaune-y boy here wants in on the action, don’t you Jaune?”

“Whoa, what?” Jaune began looking around nervously, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Don’t drag me into your weird fantasy.”

“Hey man, there’s no shame in admitting it,” said Cardin. “We all saw the way you looked at her. I was there with you looking as well, you creep.”

“You’re both creeps, ha!” Elm laughed.

“Hell yeah, no shame, bro,” Cardin chuckled, high-fiving her. “Even Ren here notices it. Tell him, Ren.”

Jaune turned to him, to which Ren shrugged:

“It’s true. It is kind of obvious.”

“Aw man. I never realized…”

“It’s not a big deal, bro,” said Elm. “Cardin is kinda right about one thing. Everybody here is pretty much into the Ice Queen. Even the girls, ha!” She then looked around before spotting another student in the distance, beckoning him from afar, “Ay, yo Russel! You’re totally into Weiss Schnee, right?”

“Hell yeah, you know it!” He replied, “We still on for tonight?”

“Of course, don’t be late again, dumbass, alright get out of here, ha-ha.”

“See man? I told you,” said Cardin, “it’s no big deal.”

“Well, it kinda is for me,” said Jaune. “It’s a personal thing. I’m not all… outgoing like you guys are. I just want to be good enough, you know? But I’m not, so there’s no way in hell I’ll ever have a chance. My Semblance hasn’t even kicked in yet.”

“You have to have confidence in yourself, Jaune,” said Ren, drinking his tea. “A positive mental attitude is everything when it comes to self-improvement. You’ll get there eventually. Plenty of the most powerful Huntsmen and Huntresses in history gained immense strength without ever even unlocking their Semblances. Because mastery over Aura is key to success.”

“That’s right, couldn’t have said it better myself,” said Cardin. “How about this? I’ll make you a deal, or bet, or whatever you want to call it. If you can walk up to the Ice Queen later on today and tell her right there and then how you feel – I’ll give you a hundred Lien, how’s that sound?”

“What the hell?”

“If you chicken out,” Cardin continued, “then you’ll have to come to the bar later on tonight instead of shutting yourself in your room. We going to get drunk, bro, gotta unwind ya know.”

“What are you doing?” Elm asked.

“What? It’s content for my social media, bro,” said Cardin. “You know I’m going to be filming everything, ha-ha. All about that grind, you know what I mean? So, what do you say, Jaune-y boy?”

“HEY!”

A shout from behind interrupted their conversation. Booming from a familiar voice, the entire group scrambled to sit upright again in their proper posture. For they recognized this voice – it was one of the Atlesian students, an upperclassmen. His name was Ghost Vester, a lean young man with golden eyes and short black hair slicked back in a professional-looking manner.

This was a young man who was always a stickler about the rules, very much a by-the-book type of guy. Always wearing his Atlesian uniform cleanly and with the utmost pride, without a wrinkle in sight. Ghost was a strict person, not just on himself, but it was a standard he imposed upon his fellow classmates as well. Him being one of the strongest students in the school also meant his orders often passed on without much resistance.

“Elm, I would hope you being Atlesian would mean you’re upholding a higher standard,” said Ghost. “You need to set an example for the Vale kids. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir. It won’t happen again,” said Elm.

“I would hope not,” his eyes turned to the Valeans. “Things may have been different before your integration into Atlas Academy, but I recommend you soon get accustomed to these new standards and customs. You are causing a massive ruckus in the cafeteria. Please finish your food and head to class immediately without delay. Am I clear?”

“Yes… sir,” Jaune, Ren, and Cardin nodded their heads.

“Good. Because I won’t repeat myself. Good day, gentlemen. Elm.”

Present…

“This is not possible,” Weiss said quietly. “You’re supposed to be in your cell. How are you out here? And why are you a girl? How?”

“Weiss, relax,” Rubio put up his hands. “You don’t want to cause a ruckus now, so try to keep your voice down.”

“What?”

“Um, ma’am?” Ciel said from behind the counter, “Are you alright? Who are you talking to?”

Weiss looked back down at the girl, baffled by her question. She then glanced back to Rubio once more, clearly standing there in front of her, no doubt about it. Weiss’s eyes were the most perceptive and powerful eyes on the planet, so it was impossible for her to be seeing things. But clearly, Ciel here was not seeing anybody here except for Weiss herself.

“It’s a part of my Semblance you see,” Rubio winked, whispering to her. “Don’t bother with the girl, she won’t be able to see me no matter how hard she tries.”

“Um… okay, that is all, Ciel,” Weiss said, turning to the door and floating outside. To which Rubio followed shortly behind.

“You already know about my ability to see the future,” he began to explain. “But did you know about my projection ability?”

“What?”

“That’s right,” he laughed. “I can send an image projection of myself into the future to communicate with any person I wish. Which means I am talking to you from the past right now, still in my cell. Nobody except for the person I target will be able to see me. Of course, since this is just an image projection of myself, I can’t interact with anything. Which means you cannot touch me either.”

“That is a strange ability,” said Weiss. “I still don’t understand.”

“I need to stretch my legs from time to time you know? Getting stuck in this metal box is no fun I can tell you that. And since you are so fast, I also need to reach a speed that can keep up – the speed of thought.”

“That makes… no sense.”

“It doesn’t have to, I have a cool red cape, ha-ha!” Rubio burst out laughing.

“And you couldn’t have used this ability to talk to the Belladonna boy yourself?” Weiss sighed, rubbing her temple.

“Like I said,” Rubio shrugged, “I can’t interact with anything.”

“But then, why are you a girl?”

“Why not? Just a look I wanted to try out from time to time. I appear before people in different forms all the time. Thought I might try out being a girl today. The real question is, though,” Rubio turned around as they walked, “why are you here in the records’ office? Someone fancy you want to meet?”

“You wouldn’t understand, you’re not Atlesian.”

“Try me.”

Weiss paused, glancing at him before saying:

“There is a spy in this kingdom of Atlas. A Valean spy.”

“What?”

“So much for diplomatic courtesy from the King, huh? I met him down the hallway when I came back. He’s disguising himself as a student, the nerve of this boy. His name is Jaune Arc.”

“Hmm, doesn’t ring a bell. Go on.”

“He just walked up to me and said ‘I really like you. Will you go out with me?’ I don’t know what that is code for, or what he was trying to imply, but I swear I will get to the bottom of it if it’s the last thing I do. The moment I crack this case wide open I will fly over to Ozymandias and… why are you – what are you laughing about?”

Weiss turned around only to find Rubio on the floor guffawing like he were going to die any minute now. Holding onto his stomach and rolling all over the place roaring with laughter. After a good long minute – he sat up, wiped the tears from his eyes, and continued to chuckle to himself for another few seconds or so.

“Are you finished?” Weiss asked.

“For someone so perceptive you could see down to the very atoms itself, you sure are one of the dumbest people on the planet,” Rubio grinned ear to ear.

“I don’t follow.”

“Ha-ha, you still don’t get it? That boy isn’t a spy. By the Seasons, you need to go outside and touch some grass once in a while. Oh wait, you do go outside, you’re just always high instead of down low.”

“Of course he is, what are you talking about? Walking up to people and spewing out some coded nonsense.”

“He has a crush on you, you dummy. Ha-ha. This is absolutely priceless. There was no coded message or anything like that. The kid just genuinely liked you, and wanted to ask you out to dinner. Is that so hard to wrap your head around?”

Weiss stood there and stared at Rubio for a good long minute, eyes grimacing to a confused complexion. It was clear to Rubio that she was still not convinced of the matter. To which Rubio only shook his head and continued laughing.

“I’ll prove it to you,” said Weiss. “Follow me, and try to keep up.”

“Speed of thought,” he winked.

“You told her?” Cardin said to Jaune, “Bro, that’s some balls. Kudos, man. I was right around the corner prepared to film you getting pounded to the ground or something. I couldn’t really hear what you guys were saying, but she just flew off.”

“Look at you, mister heartbreak kid,” Elm laughed sitting on the table next to them. “I bet she’s all flustered and shy from your little confession, that’s why she flew off. To try to collect her thoughts, and maybe confess back later on as well. Oh, how romantic.”

“Cut it out, guys,” said Jaune, banging his head on the table as the other two laughed on. “Look, she turned me down, okay? That’s all there is to it. So can we just drop it?”

“Whatever you say, bud,” said Cardin, handing over some of his money. “But a promise is a promise, so here’s the one hundred Lien. But you still gotta come to the bar this afternoon. Let us buy you a drink. Wallowing by yourself ain’t going to do you any good.”

“Thanks… I’d like that.”

“Oh, take your seats guys,” Ren ran down, sitting next to Jaune, “Professor Watts is coming.”

“Tell me all about it after class, eh?” Elm said as she walked away back to her seat.

And there, from the entrance of the classroom Professor Watts walked in, holding onto his one cup of coffee on one hand, and his textbooks on the other. He set them down on his table before taking off his stylish gray jacket, hanging it onto the coatrack.

“Alright, class. Let’s pick back up where we left off yesterday. Please turn to page 427. Practical Applications of the Human Aura. In order to pass this class, I must remind you that you will need to demonstrate adequate, preferably exceptional knowledge of the human biology, specifically pertaining to our inner Aura system. As these are crucial information to learn to achieve maximum effectiveness on the field and in combat. Mister Ren, can you please tell us the difference between a Semblance and Advanced Aura.”

Ren stood up from his seat.

“Yes sir. A Semblance is an awakening of the soul, an extension of our Aura that manifests itself from the strengthening of our mental state and our spiritual side. This awakening is not something that can be controlled or planned ahead of time through vigorous training. Instead, it only awakes when the mind is ready, regardless of the physical state of the body. This makes a Semblance an extension of Aura itself, like a branch out of a tree, but it is not the source of the power. Which is where Advanced Aura comes in. A Semblance is something that may grant its wielder unique abilities that are capable of many different things, while Advanced Aura is not as diverse. But instead, is the strengthening of the Aura itself, the manifestation of our fighting spirit made hardened into a physical construct that can be used either defensively or offensively. Unlike a Semblance, which is spiritual, the strength of an Aura is almost entirely physical and can be trained and improved to a level of mastery beyond its original starting point.”

“That is correct, well done Mister Ren. But of course, we all know that Semblances and Aura are still two pieces of the puzzle that are complementary to one another. Though we cannot control the awakening itself, the strength of the Semblance is a different story. The stronger the Aura, the stronger the Semblance becomes. Now can anyone give us some applications of these physical constructs born from our Aura? Anyone?” Watts paused, looking around, “Yes, Mister Vester.”

“Sir – on its most basic level, a wielder of Advanced Aura can summon forth a thin layer of protective barrier to coat their entire body for defensive purposes. This energy field acts as a type of defensive armor, the stronger the wielder’s Aura, the harder it is for it to break. This energy barrier won’t nullify incoming damage to an absolute degree, but it will still significantly reduce the impact on the wielder. This is the most basic and fundamental technique of Aura defense. Mastering it would allow us to maintain these defensive Aura even on a more passive level.”

“Excellent. And what about when we want to apply this kind of power in a more offensive manner?” He paused, looking around once more, “Mister Arc?”

“Well, I’ve heard of stories of Huntsmen performing feats of Aura where they would strike a target with their weapon, but their fighting Aura was so strong that they were able to deal damage without even making contact with whatever they were striking at.”

“Ah yes, that is one of the most powerful but difficult techniques you can possibly do with Advanced Aura,” Watts explained. “We have some senior year students here in our class that have the strength to demonstrate that kind of power, like Mister Ghost Vester over here. It may be good for the first and second years here to observe and learn the intricacies of that kind of technique.”

“Um… sir?” One of the students in the back raised their hand.

“Yes, what is it, young lady?”

“You mentioned some defensive Aura techniques that can create a sort of armor around your body, right? Is this what the Superman is doing in order to be invincible?”

The whole class fell silent for a split second, before some of Cardin’s friends sitting next to him started to tease, giggling to themselves and Cardin laughed along – shushing them to keep quiet.

“Ah, yes,” Watts took off his reading glasses, wiping them with his napkin, “that is something you’ll have to ask her yourself I’m afraid. The Superman is a one-of-a-kind creature. There is nobody in this world like her.”

To that, their class was then interrupted by a loud bang of the classroom door flinging open – there at the entrance, the Superman floated inside. She hovered far above the ground, on her face was a serious expression, one of focus and resolve.

“Ah, Miss Schnee – you’ve decided to join us today? Well, go ahead and take a seat.”

She nodded, before ascending upward toward the highest seat in the auditorium classroom, and finding a set of tables which the other students scrambled to clear out for her. It was as if they were making way for a king or royalty. But she paid them no attention, proceeding to take her seat after her feet had touched the ground.

The boots felt heavy, every step she took created minor rumbles for all to feel on the floor tiles. She sat there – far above everybody else, crossing her arms and looking down upon the class. The students below stared on, unsure of what to make of the situation. Some of them were dumbfounded, some were in awe, and a few even felt a twinge of fear.

From up on high, she could hear the low gasps and whispers the students tried to keep amongst themselves. ‘Holy shit, it’s her,’ some of them would whisper to each other. And it wasn’t only the whispers that she could hear – but the beating of their hearts as well. So loud in this otherwise quiet classroom.

“Hey, Jaune,” Cardin tapped on his shoulder, “did you know she was going to be here? What the hell did you guys talk about?”

“I don’t know, I told you man, she just turned me down and told me to go to class, that’s it! I don’t know why she’s here,” Jaune whispered as he glanced up the classroom, only to quickly turn back around the moment he noticed her cold serious glare piercing toward him.

“That’s the boy? Jaune Arc?” Rubio asked, sitting down next to Weiss.

“Yes, that is the spy. I can feel it.”

“You know, you sure seem to have a lot of free time on your hand if this is what you spend it on. Crimes in the Valley have been down I assume, and in Atlas as well?”

“The police has standards, standards that I help uphold.”

“Sure, I suppose. But I do hope there isn’t a cat stuck in a tree somewhere you could be doing instead of this.”

“Don’t mock me.”

“I’m just sayin’,” Rubio threw his hands in the air, “this just seems like a colossal waste of time. I don’t even recognize him. You ever thought about that?”

“Do you recognize every Valean on this planet?”

“No, but I do know my fair share within Oz’s circle. And I’m telling you right now, that just looks like an ordinary kid. One hopelessly in love. Oh, how romantic. Soon you two will be going on dates, going to the movies, and doing all sorts of premarital degeneracy like holding hands…”

“I’m glad you are finding this whole thing very amusing, but I do not.”

“Whatever you say, Ice Queen,” Rubio shrugged.

Professor Watts proceeded to adjust his tie and reading glasses before he cleared his throat and resumed the class for the day’s session.

“Anyway, class – I would like to make an announcement if I may have your attention, thank you. As you know, with the integration of the Atlesian staff to this here Beacon Academy, certain Valean faculty members have objected to the new management for obvious reasons. While we do believe that the Atlesians hold the highest quality Huntsmen and soldiers on the planet, capable of passing on their skills and wisdom to the new generation, we also believe that having teachers of Vale origins can be a great value to your education as well.”

As if sneaking from out of the shadows, the door leading back to Professor Watts’ office on the left side of the classroom flung wide open – and out came a familiar figure that every single Valean in this country could recognize from a mile away.

“May I introduce to you,” Watts continued, “your new assistant professor to this Biological Aura 201 course, Sir Qrow Branwen.”

A man so drunk out of his mind one could clearly see the bottle rolling out of Professor Watt’s office even from all the way at the back of the class. There was no mistake about it, this was the legendary hero of the Valley – the Grimm Reaper. The man had his signature scruffy spiky black hair, slicked back the best he could to try to seem professional in front of the students.

He wore with him a gray dress shirt with a long tail and unbuttoned cuffs – clearly the man would usually pull back his sleeves in a more casual manner, only now to straighten it out best he could to try to look clean. But even in his best effort, he neglected to take off his tattered signature red cape he would often wear. The cape that was so clearly reminiscent of the way Rubio would wear his.

“What the actual fuck is my uncle doing here?” Rubio stood up, in complete shock.

“Rubio, I thought your uncle was dead!”

“So did I,” Rubio panicked. “I was there at his funeral for crying out loud. This is impossible!”

“Wait, I thought this is a projection from the past,” said Weiss, “why are you reacting as if you’re here in real-time?”

“I’m reacting from the past, genius. Just because I can see the future doesn’t mean I can see all of the future. Cut me some slack and just give me some room to freak out over here.”

But before Rubio and the rest of the classroom could continue on hyperventilating and picking up their jaws and eyeballs from the floor – Sir Branwen proceeded to clear his throat to grab everyone’s attention, looking around the room and scanning everybody, before waving his hand in front of the class.

“Hi… everyone – it’s me,” he nervously said, before covering his mouth from a cough and a drunken burp. “I know everybody here has a lot of questions on their mind, and believe me, you all will want to hear this story, but I must admit that it is a rather lengthy one that we may not have time for today.”

“Professor Branwen’s presence here is a secret from the rest of the world,” Watts explained. “It was one of his wishes before taking on the job to remain hidden away just a little longer. He realizes that news of his well-being will spread after today when you kids go back home or back to your dorms and begin talking about it. So these will be his final moments of solitude before the world catch news of what happened here. That is all, however, besides the point of why we brought him here. The legendary pirate slayer and slayer of Grimm, in my humble opinion alongside our faculty members’, would make for a great and valuable teaching tool to help you all through the curriculum. Either through helping with physical training, or in imparting wisdom on certain Aura techniques. I hope you all welcome him with open arms. And I would like to thank you for being here, Professor. It is an honor.”

“The honor… is mine,” Qrow said as they shook hands.

But the entire class did not need to have Weiss’s superhuman vision in order to see that subtle pause in his speech. Indicating a hidden hesitation in his words. What secret story could have possibly happened to have the Valean legend come on board as part of an Atlesian program?

Chapter Text

In a farmland far, far away…

There is a house that lies at the edge of a place far Beyond. It is a strange place that is hard to quantify. A place that never was yet still is. A place that only came into being not too long ago and yet had existed since an age before anyone could remember. A field full of corn and luscious crops as far as the light could touch. Growing from strong soil under constant sunlight.

Only one person lived on this lonely farm. An old red-haired woman who yet looked as young as a teen in the glistening sunlight. She woke up every day, donning her blue leather overalls to go outside in the soft soil to labor away at the good crops she was growing. Every day she planted a new seed in place of everything she harvested that day. And every day the crops would sleep only to wake up all full and strong, ready to be reaped all over again.

It was a quiet life for this woman, a simple pleasure of repetition as she took comfort in knowing the predictable story of her life. She treasured this simple existence – for once upon a time her story was a lot less predictable. A story full of tears and mournful cries, one where heroes shed their blood and the villains they faced would triumph.

Now her life was fruitful, straightforward, and full of sugar and meat. This was the reward for her labor – the legendary labor.

Weiss Schnee would land close to this plot of land, not too far away from the red-haired woman. The woman smiled under her straw hat knowing the Ice Queen was approaching. But the work continued, for the farmland was fertile and demanding. It wished life upon the dirt, from the Dust beneath, life birthing from the specks of sand.

“Good haul today, Red?” Weiss asked, floating above the woman.

Red glanced up to where she floated, grinning:

“Stick around for a while, eh? I’m making corn soup, it’s good. With these onions it’ll be extra sweet.”

“No, thank you. I’m not hungry.”

Weiss floated closer to the woman, but the closer she got the stronger the gravity felt on her feet. Until a certain point where she was essentially forced onto the ground.

“So, how was your day?” Red asked as she plucked the potatoes from the ground and chucked them into a leather sack.

“A lot of surprises I must say. Sometimes I wish I have Rubio’s future vision. But apparently not even he saw his uncle returning from the dead.”

Red spun her head around at the mention.

“Qrow… died? Then came back?” She stood there, pondering for a second. “I must be getting the stories in the sands mixed up. How’s school? You making any friends?”

“Why do I need to make friends? I have bigger concerns. Ozymandias is still out there, free to roam around. He is too dangerous to be left alone. There are Grimm monsters in other kingdoms, as well. Giants roaming the West. Sea serpents to the East. I can’t just ignore the planet, it needs my protection!”

“Don’t repeat the mistakes I made, Weiss. I have a lot of regrets, and I don’t want you to have them, too. You get too focused in the work, and it’s easy to forget the little things.”

Weiss paused, staring at the ground – as she adjusted her service cap and looked straight into Red’s eyes.

“His name – is Jaune,” Weiss said at last. “I thought he was a spy, but I think what Rubio told me is finally sinking in. Maybe I need to stop flying so high in the sky.”

Red removed her straw hat, letting her luscious crimson hair flow in the wind and under the sunlight as it illuminated her wonderful smile and shining green eyes. They glowed like brilliant emerald pieces. And from the emerald, her tears began to fall – reminiscing the past.

“Jaune…” Red muttered to herself, knowing Weiss can still hear her, “you are still as you are. I’m glad. Treat him well, Weiss. You’ve been flying high for so long, it’s about time you reconnect to the people down below.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Watts said, shaking Qrow’s hands one final time for the day. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some papers to mark. I’ll send all the details to your scroll tonight for the meeting tomorrow.”

“Sleep well, Watts,” Qrow waved his hand, before proceeding to leave the empty classroom.

It was a weird sensation walking in these familiar halls once more, the halls that he himself once grew up in when he was a young lad. He had many memories of this place. Not only of his time as a student, but also of the reunions and visits he made to see old friends once more. Many of them perished in the fight for the Valley against the Empire. Many more escaped with the King to a place across the lands. How did it all come to this?

He remembered the times he would come to these halls with a bottle in his hands, catching the younger students who admired him so much for his cavalier attitude. He smiled remembering the times he would get in trouble with Goodwitch. But now, walking around without a bottle in hand – it was a strange sensation, both uplifting and yet burdened at the same time. Feeling the thirst to the point it felt routine at this point. His lips went dry very fast, and his throat was sore. His brain told him to get some hot soup to ease the pain, but his gut instinct instead told him to wash it down with the liquor.

It made him think about the path he was currently on, stopping right at a crossroad. Wondering why he was even here at all, on the side of the victors of the war. He wasn’t even supposed to be alive.

But of course, being alive now cleared his head – as he only just now remembered he still had family left in the living world. And one of them was standing right before him.

The young man appeared in his real form, not in any disguises. But he appeared with his hood down and shiny red cloak in sight, just to make sure his uncle knew right away who was standing in front of him.

Qrow smiled on, a single tear rolling down his face:

“Hey… kiddo.”

Rubio kept his head held down, refusing to look up. Because he was shaking so much he seemed almost incapable of moving.

“I wish I can touch you right now. Sometimes I go to sleep and I don’t want to dream of what tomorrow will bring. But these eyes keep showing me… I just want to gouge them out and break out of this cell right now. I wish… I wish I can touch you – Uncle Qrow.”

Qrow put his hand forward to pat Rubio on his head, only to then remember the true extent of what his nephew was capable of when his hand fell right through the mirage in front of him. Qrow was never good with illusion magick. It was something a lot of his peers picked up from King Oz, but he himself never paid much attention in class.

“Why…” Rubio continued, “I heard the news when you… when you offed yourself. I thought about joining you. But I saw so much pain and misery on this planet, so much pain in our future. I couldn’t just leave them here.”

“I know, Rubio… I know.”

“I don’t want these eyes,” Rubio hiccupped, tears streaming down his face. “I want… I want to feel you again, Uncle Qrow. Feel the touch of family.”

“And you will, soon,” Qrow’s voice cracked, heart breaking as he watched Rubio shaking. “Come on, kiddo. Let me see your face.”

And thus, Rubio obeyed, looking up at last – tears still pouring, refusing to stop. Making his silver eyes shimmer like the bright moonlight.

“I am – so sorry,” Qrow reached out his hand, trying to touch him. “I should never have left. It was the biggest mistake of my life. But I promise you – I will stay by your side for the rest of my life.”

“You promise? Really, really promise?”

“Listen, Rubio… Ruby – me coming back here is a sign. For years, I thought my Bad Luck Semblance was a curse. But it may have been a blessing in disguise after all. Because it refused to let me die. Destiny refused, Destiny reminded me that I still had a duty on this earth. A kid to take care of. That’s what I remembered when I was falling to the waves below. And the water carried me to shore. I’ve got a second chance now, and I will never put you through that ever again – that is a promise.”

It was said that the blood of Valeans were thick and immensely powerful. Bound together by an invisible cosmic thread that made them stronger. But Rubio and Qrow were not related by blood. And yet, here on this day, they felt a strength and power within their bond that grew into something unlike anything they had ever felt before in their entire life, not even with their other family members. Rubio’s tears flowed on just as Qrow’s also began wetting his cheeks. This was definitely a sign, or perhaps a warning of some kind? Whatever it was, one thing was for sure – Qrow vowed that day to never let it go to waste, not even if the world were to end.

On the eastern shores of the Valley, facing away in the direction of the land of Mistral was a vast ocean ruled by the one great pirate god Raven Branwen, ruler of the sea. She commanded with her a great many ships that would decimate any sea monsters that even thought about looking in her direction. One could be quick to be deceived by her unassuming appearance, that of a woman in her dark red fancy bathrobe with nothing else but a pair of wooden sandals and a curved long blade by the side of her hip.

She had always dressed so casually with little to no protective armor because she knew she was nigh invincible while on the sea. Her Aura was almost unmatched, allowing her the freedom to move without cumbersome metal on her body. And when she moved without this burden, she would be able to cut islands into pieces with ease if she so desired.

This arrogance was a privilege, a privilege she wanted to flaunt to the rest of the world – to show everybody how rich she truly was. Because at the end of the day, that was all that mattered to this woman, treasure.

If there was gold on the sea, Raven would no doubt swoop in and hoard it to herself, never letting go. And there were lots of gold, indeed, on this vast ocean. Not just the physical coins. But they came in the form of trade routes, spices, and minions as well.

All of that came crashing down, however, when the battleships of the Northern lands descended to these shores and cut off the trade routes, severing that artery. And thus, for the first time in her entire life, Raven began to doubt – questioning her invincibility.

And she was not the only one to question it as well.

“Raven,” Yang said, pointing to the map on the table. “Should we move the men further south? Our bases there are losing morale, they could use all the help we can give.”

Raven stayed silent at her daughter’s questioning. She only glared at the map of the Eastern seas. This place was her home, she knew every corner of these waters. And knew exactly where to hide and run from to keep her little empire operational. It was only recently did it dawn on her that she may have finally run out of water to hide. Because up in the sky was a being who could see far beyond the horizon, and move faster than the wind.

“Go back home, little girl,” Raven said to Yang. “I never asked you to tag along.”

“I am not going anywhere. You’re not my captain.”

“Don’t you get it?” Raven snapped, “You stupid girl! The flying demon is here. If you don’t leave now, you will die.”

“That is for me to decide. Not for her, nor you – Raven.”

But of course, the two of them would soon realize the true power of someone who could ascend Beyond. The moment the wind exploded on the outside of their ship like that of the sound of a cannonball, they knew right there and then they had been found. Raven would pick up her sword to muster up the last of her confidence. Stepping forth outside her captain’s quarter to face up high in the sky the one being floating in the middle of the brewing storm. Her cape flew like that of a pair of angel’s wings, glaring down where the pirate god stood with a deathly glare from on high.

“So – you’ve finally managed to seduce my brother,” Raven looked up with a gaze full of rage. “What did you promise him? Wealth? Bringing dead friends back to life? A second chance?”

“You knew?” Weiss asked, as the rain started pouring on from behind her. “You knew he was alive?”

“My brother is many things, a weakling is not one of them. He is too strong and stubborn to die, even by his own hands. We could’ve ruled the seas together. But instead, he wanted to write songs and poetry. All that matters in this world is treasure, steel, precious metals – things that are tangible. Not imaginary things like words or dreams.”

“But what if Dreams are real?” Weiss asked. “What if thoughts can be made real and physical?”

“Then I will cut them,” Raven smirked, tapping on the hilt of her blade. “I am the master of my own destiny, my own dreams and ambitions – not the Seasons, the gods. Not even you, flying demon.”

“Come quietly, Raven. Don’t make this harder on yourself.”

“Then what? You’ll execute me like you’re going to execute my student, Adam? That stupid kid really doesn’t know his limits.”

“Do you?” Weiss glared at her.

“The boy tried to cut you with his Aura. But it will never be deep enough to do any damage unless he coats his sword with Aura as well. He is strong, has potential, but he lacks the will to do what is required of him.”

“He has killed dozens.”

“Collateral damage, he still has that hesitation in him. It is subtle, you wouldn’t be able to see it even with your eyes. I myself have no problem getting my hands dirty, that’s how I conquered the seas. But that boy – Adam is a pure Edenite.”

Weiss’s eyes lit up at the mention of that word.

“What did you just say?”

“His blood is so pure, it might as well be made of diamond,” Raven explained. “He doesn’t realize it, yet. But there’s a reason why he is so obsessed with the Lost Virtues. The magick inside his blood is like that of Valean royalty. Incredibly strong and dense. You Atlesians are afraid of these Southern bloodlines, I can tell. Without your strength, Ice Queen, your people would’ve been conquered by the Prophet King long ago. THAT is a fact!”

“Stop stalling for time, Raven. There is no victory for you here. Come quietly before it gets worse. It is time to end this.”

“You’re right!” Yang suddenly spoke up, readying herself and her yellow gauntlets. “It’s time we end your tyranny.”

Without another moment to waste, she leaped up high in the air at a speed faster than sound itself. Appearing in front of Weiss in a mere few seconds. Her leather long coat would fly into the air just behind her back exactly like Weiss’s own Atlesian silk cape.

The yellow gauntlets began shifting, metal folding on top of one another and crawling up the side of her forearms to form into a bulky but powerful shotgun on each of her hands. A clicking sound resonated through the air as she readied up her punch, coating her entire arm in a fiery yellow Aura – to then strike forth with a silent fury as she stared forth into the Ice Queen’s cold unblinking eyes.

And still her eyes and will remained strong as steel or diamond, even in the face of Yang’s brute strength. Launching a punch forth that ruptured the very air around them to create an explosion as loud as the cannons on Raven’s ships. The storm brewed on, raining down on the both of them and blowing away the smoke from the Dust bullets – only to then reveal to Yang that her punch did not even leave a scratch on the Superman herself. Her uniform remained clean of dirt or even rain for that matter.

Because upon closer inspection, Yang realized that Weiss was covering herself in a layer of Aura so thick that it prevented both the rain and her gunfire from making contact. Floating before her, Weiss stopped Yang’s punch dead in her tracks with a single Aura-powered finger, with her left hand then revealing how she caught every single shotgun pellet fired from her gauntlet at a speed Yang could not even detect – tossing all the pellets into the ocean.

Weiss’s Aura finger was so strong, Yang’s fist did not even make contact.

“You would lead young men and women like this one into battle for what, Raven?” Weiss glared down, before she proceeded to backhand Yang out of the sky and into the sea, squatting her like a fly. “So you can have your treasure? Millions of people in the world are dying, and you instead chose to use your power so you can sit on your empty throne and sip wine all day while others suffer.”

“Stupid girl,” Raven spat a mouthful to the side, as she drew forth her sword from her revolving sheath. The blade glowed a hateful red, covered in fire Dust. It was an abnormally long sword, longer than any one-handed blade, or even two-handed ones.

“Nowhere to run,” said Weiss, cracking her knuckles. “Just you and me, no more games.”

“How about one last wager?” Veins began popping up on Raven’s angry gaze. “If I can cut you, even for a single inch, you let my ships and my men go.”

To that – Weiss simply responded:

“No.”

Faster than the eyes could track, Weiss would pull forth the rapier from her belt and launch it forth like that of a spear – flying at a speed and weight so incomprehensible it was like a shooting star. It was only when the rapier was a split second away from making contact did Raven finally feel the true weight of this unfathomable device being lobbed at her.

This thing was no ordinary sword. It almost seemed like a device sent down from the heavens, and it weighed as much as an entire mountain. Forged from metal so dense no mortal on Remnant could possibly lift it with their own strength. Raven herself had cut apart mountains and islands before, she knew her own limits very well.

But only now when the rapier tore through her right shoulder to sever her arm clean off did she finally give in to the idea that she was just a big fish in a small pond after all this time. Her own invincible Aura could not do anything to protect her from the piercing projectile that not only fell through her flesh and bones, but into the ship’s wooden structure as well – sinking the entire thing like a volcanic eruption. Her own Aura at that moment might as well be made out of tissue paper in the face of this overwhelming force.

Raven screamed into the sky, clutching tightly onto her wound. Just as the rainfall was soaking her own clothes, mixing water with her blood dripping and bursting forth like a geyser. Her mind was in shambles, with a distress bell inside her head ringing so loud she thought she was going deaf. Falling to the floor she did not even have the strength remaining to care for her sinking ship.

From the depths of the water, Yang launched herself upward to land beside Raven on the battered wooden structure. In the distance, she herself could hear the sound of Atlesian cannons being fired from afar towards Raven’s grand fleet. Many other ships beside them tried to fight back, loading their own cannons and guns with as many Dust bullets as they could find. But many simply saw no hope in resistance now that they witnessed their captain’s fall, and thus decided to abandon their current vessels entirely.

Yang looked around, panicking as she tried to find a way to patch up her dying mother. Looking for a piece of cloth, or even a piece of rope.

“HELP US!” Yang shouted to the sky, looking up to where Weiss was floating as she held her mother close. “You can’t just leave us here! She is dying, get down here you damn coward!”

“NO!” Raven grunted, grabbing Yang by her collar. “We are pirates, little girl. We do what we must. There is no turning back from anything we do. And we do not accept help from tyrants.”

“Stop talking, Raven. You’re dying.”

“Then let it be. I would rather spill my blood on the sea than let it spill beneath a guillotine. We are Valeans, you hear? Our blood is sacred. So get out of here, and live. This legacy depends on you… Yang.”

“Raven…”

“GO! Get out of here before I toss you overboard myself. I won’t ask twice.”

Under the heavy rainfall soaking Yang’s own face, her fist began to tighten as she stared down this once great pirate god. A woman with all the power and status in the world – now reduced to nothing but a cripple. The sight disgusted her, made her uneasy of what this woman had become. And in this blind anger there Yang felt an ounce of pity as well.

Confused of her own feelings, she stepped off from the sinking wooden structure to then dive deep into the dark ocean on the side of this once mighty ship that triumphed over the seas. She dared not look back, not wanting to see the death of something so big and majestic sinking into the belly of this murky water. But within that pain stinging her heart grew forth a desire for vengeance, birthed into being from that pity, sadness, and blind confusion.

She gritted her teeth in this silent fury, swearing on that day she will return one day, even if it would kill her in the end. For nothing short of blood would be adequate payment for what the Atlesian Superman had taken away from her on this day.

Chapter Text

The Church of the Seasons was a religious branch that spread far and wide under the rule of the God King Ozymandias. The people of the Valley greatly revered these spirits of primordial concepts that dated back farther than any recorded history. According to these ancient myths, the Seasons were far larger than anything mortals could possibly imagine. Larger than even the Giants themselves who once roamed this earth. As a matter of fact, the Giants of old were said to have descended from the spiritual energies of the Seasons themselves. Primordial cosmic conceptual beings who did not have a tangible form, manifesting themselves into powerful mortal Maiden figures to interact with the lower planes.

But of course, when it comes to the people of the Northern lands they cared very little for conceptual things. They cared more for things they could actually see and touch, this philosophy made them godless, and there was really nobody else out there to tell them they were wrong given how the Empire had effectively conquered the planet the moment they marched south into the Valley. Other nations still existed of course, but only because the Empire allowed it.

Even though they were a godless nation, they found little cause to outright ban religion as a whole in these conquered lands. Part of the reason was because they really could’ve done it any time they wanted, just to hammer home how much control the Empire possessed – that these churches only existed with permission from Atlesian steel. Another part of it, however, was that the Church really did not hold any more power now that their God King was in hiding. It also did not help that the spirit of Winter, one whom the Valley surprisingly revered to a high degree, taught them lessons in pacifism and peace of mind. Retaliation simply was not in their nature.

The spirit of Summer was, of course, also very prevalent and much more assertive – often depicted as the God of War. But Winter’s teachings had also sheltered them from a great many harm in this world of flesh and bone, a world where the cold was cruel and the hunger was agonizing. Thus, from this contradiction created a schism within the peoples of the Valley. And a divided people was not a threat to the Empire’s authority.

Jaune Arc and his older sister Saphron were among the humble people of the Winter branch, who would always keep their heads down and out of trouble, away from the politics and violence of the world. They moved here to the Valley years back when Saphron was attending college in hopes of becoming a lawyer. Jaune would follow suit to attend Beacon Academy, leaving behind his home in the countryside where his parents and a few of his other sisters resided. All of this, of course, happened before the War.

Things did start to become a bit more difficult now after the Empire marched in and started assimilating the peoples of the Valley into their Northern cultures. They eventually found out about their religion as it was inevitable. Harassment did come and go, but living in accordance with their beliefs they were easy to forgive. What was much more difficult to endure, on the other hand, was how little respect the people around showed them, including their own peers, many of whom were Atlesians.

“I’m going to go to the office and talk to them in the morning,” Jaune said to his sister as they both walked on their way to church. “They’ve pushed you around long enough. You made it clear you had plans, and they just keep shoving more responsibilities onto you. That’s not right.”

“Let’s just leave it, Jaune. I don’t want to cause any commotion.”

“I’m not going to yell at them or anything, don’t worry. But this has to stop. They said they have standards, right? So they should be treating you fairly as well.”

“Aw, where would I be without my adorable little baby brother?” Saphron ruffled his hair.

“Cut it out,” Jaune laughed, “took me all morning to have it neat like this.”

“So… tell me about school. You said you met a girl in class right? What’s her name?”

“Come on, sis. Knock it off, I misspoke okay? I said, um… I met a guy with a curl. Not a girl. I don’t know where you got that from, ha.”

“I know what I heard, Jaune. You can’t hide from big sis. I see all.”

“Ha, I suppose you do.”

“So is she pretty?”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Jaune paused, thinking for a moment. “She – is majestic.”

“Wow, that’s one way to describe her.”

“She’s tall, confident, and strong, and just… just beautiful, really.”

“Tall? Taller than you, I bet.”

“Actually yes, unironically.”

“Really? I was just joking. You’re being serious?”

“Yup, one hundred percent.”

“Welp, who am I to judge people for their kinks.”

“Hey!” Jaune burst out laughing. “It’s not a… come on, I’m being serious here.”

“I’m just kidding, bro, ha-ha. And this girl is in the same class as you?”

“Eh, well, yes and no. She kind of just comes and goes. Sometimes she’s here, sometimes she’s not.”

“Huh, she some kind of prodigy? She just gets to come to class whenever?”

“Oh, she is super smart. Probably the smartest in the class. She makes it all look easy. I just… I just want to be good enough, too.”

Saphron’s smile disappeared briefly, pausing for a second, before reappearing for her to ruffle her brother’s hair once more.

“Cheer up, lil’ bro. You’ll get your chance to prove yourself soon. I can feel it.”

“Oh, shoot. Come on, sis. Let’s go, we’re going to be late. Mother Saffire is going to kill us.”

The two of them rushed forward the final couple of blocks to reach the church at the end of the neighborhood, careful to avoid any large puddle of water to prevent splashes on their clean fresh attire. It was raining just the day before, a huge storm brewing coming from the east that lasted nearly an entire day.

Jaune still wondered what that loud sound thundering in the distance that day was. It sounded like it came from the far ocean, but it didn’t sound exactly like a lightning storm. It was much heavier, almost as if it was a cannonball.

Another mystery of this vast world for Jaune to mull over in his sleep.

They arrived at the doorstep of the church not a minute too soon, entering inside they were met with a moderate amount of people attending today’s session. But the thing that caught both of their eyes immediately was not any of the usual familiar faces. But instead – there floating next to Mother Saffire was a tall figure donning her towering white cape, flowing in the wind like that of snow. It was unmistakable.

“Weiss?” Jaune almost shouted before quickly lowering his voice. It, of course, did not matter, because Weiss was still able to hear what he said.

Turning her head to face them, she walked forth approaching. Her feet still yet to touch the ground, walking on air just a few inches above the floor.

“Jaune – Arc, correct?” Weiss asked.

“Um, yeah, hi, hey there, ahem,” he cleared his throat. “Fancy seeing you here. I didn’t take you for a churchgoer.”

Weiss would glance back and forth between Jaune and Saphron for a few seconds before saying:

“I do attend the sermons whenever I have the time. Not just with this church, but other places as well. But whenever I’m on duty, I would listen in from afar.”

“I just never thought you’d also revere Winter’s spirit. A lot of people say you’re an atheist or something, or just straight up the reincarnation of Winter,” he said.

“Do you believe that?” Weiss asked.

“Well, I don’t know myself. Your strength is just, you know, admirable – ahem…”

“I assure you, I am not the spirit of Winter. Or if I am, I am not aware. I am just – me,” Weiss grinned ever so slightly.

“That’s great… that’s great. Oh, hey, Weiss, I mean, General – I’d like you to meet my sister, Saphron.”

“You may call me Weiss, how do you do?” She went in to shake her hand.

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Super… I mean, Miss Weiss Schnee.”

“The sermon is about to start,” Weiss turned her head to the front. “Shall we? There are some empty seats in the front.”

“Yes, gladly, we’ll be there just a sec,” said Jaune.

Weiss nodded and proceeded forward. With Jaune about to follow shortly behind, but not before Saphron pulled him back to whisper into his ear:

“You never told me the girl you like is the Superman herself. This is great, isn’t it? She is absolutely gorgeous, by the Seasons. You got yourself a good one, eh?”

“Come on, sis, let’s not talk about it right now.”

There was a factory built on the northern side of the city of Vale. Although one would not be able to tell that it was a factory at all given how it was disguised and hidden away behind a façade of a high school. Indeed, there were some classes being taught to middle school students in the front of the campus. But deep inside was a vast assembling line made to gather precious metals and powerful Dust to produce something much more important and powerful than the ordinary citizens would realize.

Sun Wukong knew much better than most, however. Alongside his fellow White Fang members Sienna and Tukson – the last of the revolution.

After the event of Adam’s arrest on the train raid, the entire operation was left in shambles with no sign of Ilia anywhere as far as Sun could see. Many of their bases were left vulnerable and exposed in the open for Atlesian authorities to swoop in and apprehend a massive chunk of their military forces. A lucky few managed to escape in the middle of the scuffle, many more were not so lucky. Sun and his two fellow members with him were part of the fortunate ones. He thanked the Seasons every day since for giving them this opportunity.

The security of the factory was tight, endless lines of robotics being occupied by human workers piloting large exoskeleton suits to work the machines and bring about necessary cargo, much like how it was back in their old White Fang bases, since they stole most of their technologies from factories like this one. With the amount of eyes and cameras in this factory to monitor the scene, it would be near impossible to sneak past the guards. That wasn’t much a concern for Sun and his gang, however, because sneaking around was their forte. They could practically do it in their sleep if they wanted to.

What was much more concerning to them was despite the fact that they had managed to steal so much of these equipment, not once were they able to retrieve a good enough sample size of the pills these factories were manufacturing. There must have been an entire ocean of these things in this one factory alone, just ripe for the taking. But it still somehow felt like a herculean task to pull off if they even so much as think to attempt it, and Sun wasn’t exactly sure why.

All they had on them so far was the one pill Ilia was able to retrieve for them. Not good enough to make extensive tests and reverse engineer in order to manufacture it themselves, given what little technology they had access to. It was also part of their trump card to use for self-defense in cases of emergency.

“Let’s find the surveillance room,” Tukson tapped on Sun’s shoulder as the three of them were hiding behind some tall crates. “Maybe we can disable the security systems long enough to grab some schematics and samples.”

“Good idea,” said Sun, “but we don’t know where the surveillance room is, so should we split up to cover more grounds?”

“It’s risky,” said Sienna. “I don’t think we have a choice, though. This way even if we get caught the revolution will still be able to live on as long as one of us can escape.”

“A yes, but a single soul cannot win a war, my dear White Fang members.”

A voice sounded off from behind startling the three of them into a defensive position, with Sun drawing forth his gunchucks, Sienna drawing forth her bladed chain whip, and Tukson following suit to bare the claws on his fingers. To be able to sneak behind the three of them was a feat they simply could not comprehend, it was as if the shadows in the darkness were coming alive – and emerging forth from within was a tall familiar figure with a stylish dark mustache wearing a gloomy gray jacket.

This man was, of course, none other than Professor Arthur Watts himself, head of the staff at the current Beacon Academy under Atlas authority. One of the most celebrated scholars of the modern era.

A million thoughts began cycling through Sun’s mind as he tried to process the situation to find a solution out of this predicament. What was most peculiar to him however was the fact that he could not sense or detect any Aura around this man standing before them. He couldn’t even feel any fighting spirit or malicious intent within his relaxed pose and casual demeanor.

“Let’s not draw attention to ourselves here, shall we?” Said Watts. “Rest assured, I have no intention of arresting any of you.”

“Big talk from a human,” Sienna snapped, ready to attack. “After what you people did to Adam and Ilia.”

“Miss Ilia Belladonna is currently approximately twenty miles from here on campus attending a lecture on forensic science 101,” Watts responded, to their complete shock.

They all sat there in silence for a good long second to let that information soak in before coming to the realization of what he was really implying. They felt drained of energy, completely exhausted now knowing this news, powerless to do anything before Sun mustered up the courage to say:

“You’re lying. That can’t be true. Ilia and Adam are siblings, she wouldn’t do something like this.”

“Step-siblings, technically,” Tukson muttered under his breath, to Sienna’s annoyance.

“Believe me if you wish,” said Watts, “or not. It makes little difference to me. Because I am not here to deliver you news about Miss Belladonna – I am here because I have something to offer.”

They paused for a second before Sienna said:

“How do we know we can trust you?”

Watts shrugged:

“I could’ve called security and have the three of you arrested right here while I sit back in the comfort of my office upstairs. And as you can see – I have come here unarmed with my Aura deactivated.”

“So why are you telling us all this?” Sun asked. “What do you want?”

“I want to tell you the truth,” Watts responded. “You and I share the same goal, as hard to believe as it is. But I wish to assist you in your endeavors.”

“Why?” Sienna asked, “What do you get out of it?”

“I get the one thing I’ve been wanting ever since the Empire marched south into the Valley five years ago – I want to kill the Superman.”

The sermon lasted all the way until noon, at which point the people within the church had already begun scattering. They were a much quieter crowd than usual this week. A lot fewer greetings and conversation exchanges when they were parting ways. And it was kind of easy to see why, given how the envoy of the Atlas Empire itself was sitting on the front row of the church. Her mighty imposing figure towered over everybody there. The people became hesitant, confused, and unsure of what to make of the situation.

It was definitely a good thing that Mother Saffire, head priestess of this church, was a blind woman, and one who accepted people from all walks of life into the heart of this church, no matter who they were or where they came from.

Jaune himself definitely felt that same uneasiness when they first took their seat and the people fell a little too quiet for comfort. But Saphron’s cheery demeanor and positivity managed to keep his head high and confident. And eventually, he remembered a strange feeling of comfort while in the presence of the Superman. Even when she was in class with him, and even in times when he would feel that nauseating feeling in his gut, he still remembered how majestic this young woman really was. It was what he admired most about her.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Weiss,” said Saphron as the three of them walked outside. “So what are you going to do now? Have any plans?”

“I still have some time to kill,” said Weiss, pondering. “Maybe I’ll take a walk – just to enjoy the scenery.”

“Why don’t you come over to our apartment?” Asked Saphron. “I’ll make you some tea, and maybe get to know you a little more.”

“Come on, sis, Weiss is a busy woman. She can’t just hang around all day.”

“Aw, shush, bro. She doesn’t mind, right? It’ll be fun, there’s loads to talk about. I’ll even cook lunch for you if you want. The company I work at just had this huge office party the other day. And the chef there, sweetest guy ever, had a surplus of some really high-quality beef. He gave me some as a gift, it’s really nice, you’ll see.”

“I… I would like that. Thank you.”

“Wonderful! Come on, Jaune,” she grabbed his hand, “let’s show our guest the way.”

“I should let you know,” said Weiss, “I am more of a coffee drinker. But I don’t want to bother you if you don’t have…”

“Oh, hush now,” Saphron interrupted, “we have coffee, too. So don’t you worry. You’re our guest, so we’ll take care of you today, ‘kay?”

“I…” Weiss paused, “thank you, you are very kind.”

“So tell me, Weiss,” said Saphron. “What does it feel like to fly? I can only imagine, must be fantastic to be able to see everything from up there.”

“There is a beauty to this world. But too much of it was ravaged by the Grimm in ancient times. I’ve wiped out a good portion of their population, so I hope one day we’ll be able to restore the lands to their former beauty. It’s a beautiful world, to be able to see from afar. But I hesitate to take people flying especially at the speed I often fly at. My body is as hard as diamonds, so I have the durability to fly at that speed. But for you, I don’t think you’ll be able to even open your eyes in your current state.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” said Jaune. “But still, it’s nice to be able to see the sky up close like you often do. Back when we were living with our parents, I remember going outside every night to count the stars in the sky. There were so many of them, ha. But now that we live in a city, we don’t really have the opportunity to do so anymore.”

“Maybe we should go back home for a visit after this semester,” Saphron suggested. “They’re probably worried sick with all the Grimm and Kaiju or whatever attacking all the time.”

“Dad might be worried,” said Jaune, “but our mom actually adores you, Weiss. Whenever she sees you on the news killing a giant Grimm, she cheers really hard, like she’s supporting a sports team or something. You’ve probably met a lot of people who wanted your autograph or something right? Weiss?”

The two were confused by the lack of a response, but only when they turned around did they realize that Weiss had stopped in her tracks and was looking elsewhere. Right across the street, in fact. Into a dark alley between two large buildings. Jaune himself wasn’t exactly sure what she was looking at, however. It just looked like an ordinary back road leading behind what looked like a kitchen to a restaurant, with a few trash cans placed around.

Jaune wanted to tap on Weiss’s shoulder to ask what was going on, but before he could even reach where she was floating, his head began to lighten up and fall apart into shambles. His eyes were becoming a lot dizzier, making it difficult to focus. Jaune turned around to his sister trying to see what was really going on, only to be shocked that Saphron had already collapsed on the floor, knocked out cold.

“What on earth…” Jaune muttered, following suit, falling to the ground.

Weiss’s eyes were not deterred even after that strange occurrence, because she knew exactly what had happened. Her gaze focused into a steely unblinking look that glared into the darkness of the alley. And from the shadows came forth a tall magnificent figure in a hideous ragged brown leather cloak. In his hand, he carried with him a black cane with a strange silver mechanical hilt. But what made his identity clear was the brilliant silver hair he exposed from his hood in the open for Weiss to see.

There was no doubt about it – King Ozymandias.

“Hello, Miss Schnee,” Oz smirked as he donned his shaded glass spectacles. “Love what you’ve done with the place.”

She did not answer. Instead, only stared on, clenching her fists.

“I hear you’re trying to find me,” he said. “And that you’re using Rubio Rose to do that. Good plan, he’s a good kid. But he doesn’t know anything about my plans or my inner circles, so he’ll be useless to you soon. His magick is nothing in comparison to what I myself can do.”

“You are an illegal trespassing on Atlesian soil with no documentation of any kind. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just bring you in right here, right now.”

“My dear, I’m not literally here. I would hope the Atlesian Superman would be a little more perceptive and clever than this. Or did you forget that I have mastery over illusionary magick?”

Weiss paused, to which Oz’s grin began to widen ever so slowly, taunting her.

“Ooh, I see what it is now,” he said. “You can’t really see me, can you? The most powerful pair of eyes on the planet, capable of seeing things down to the very atoms – powerless against my might. Tell me, dear girl, what do you see if you try to concentrate and zoom in right now? I’m curious, because I don’t have your eyes.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“I bet all you see is nothing but a dark void instead of ordinary atoms,” he mused on. “Sucking in the light and vision like that of a black hole, this is the power of a strong gravitational pull. But you know all about gravity, don’t you?”

“I do. Your point?”

“I’m just saying, we’re not so different you and I. We are both born for great power, Destined to do things no one else can Dream of. Do you know what the difference is between an ordinary person and a god? A person is weak-willed, and prefers to be conquered. While a god is meant to be a conqueror. Just like your Atlesian friends fainting on the sidewalk over there. Their minds cannot even fathom the willpower of someone like us, they will literally crumble in our presence.”

“They – are not Atlesians,” Weiss pointed to Jaune and Saphron. “They are Valeans. You do know your own people, yes?”

To that, Oz’s smile faded into a stone-cold glare. Their eyes met one another in a staredown that could ignite the very air itself. Their fighting Aura was absolutely unbearable, it was fortunate that there were no other bystanders nearby to witness the strong gravitational force around them lifting the dirt off the ground as they began to power up ever so subtly. The strained boiling atmosphere around made it difficult to even breathe properly, but of course, that did not affect either of these two extraordinary specimens.

All of this was made much worse by the fact that Ozymandias was not even here physically himself. What was standing before her was only an illusion, and yet this illusion was already strong enough to exude this level of fighting Aura. Obviously, Weiss herself had never had to use her full power before, nothing on the planet could handle that kind of strength. But it was in moments like these that Weiss began reconsidering such a decision.

“I suppose it doesn’t really matter,” said Ozymandias at last. “Valeans, Atlesians, mortals. They are all meant to serve people like us. People are meant to be conquered.”

“I do not want to conquer anything,” she responded firmly. “The flag I fly is a symbol of power and safety. That is all I want, the strength to protect everyone.”

“You just keep telling yourself that my dear. I got what I wanted, to test my magick against your strength and eyes. We will meet again soon enough, but first – I want to show you a demonstration of what’s to come. I want you to know what even a fraction of my magick is capable of. Observe.”

From the shadow behind him, Ozymandias pulled forth a familiar face, one whose hands and feet were tied with a strong chain. Weiss recognized immediately the crimson hair of this young man and the two bull horns on his head – Adam Belladonna.

The Prophet King would toss the unconscious Adam onto the street for Weiss to catch. The moment she made contact, she came to the shocking realization that this was no illusion. Adam was actually physically here himself, she verified it herself with her enhanced vision, zooming in to see his DNA. But this should have been impossible. Adam was locked away in a maximum-security facility, awaiting his trial. How could Oz have accomplished this? And more importantly, how could a single illusion even make contact with Adam’s body?

“Behold, my power,” Oz pulled forth a knife, one that looked like any ordinary silverware you would find in a restaurant. It was dull, and doubtful if it could even leave a scratch. But imbued with a glowing Aura, Oz smiled on as he tossed the knife into the air for it to land straight on Adam’s unconscious body.

It did not cut him, however. Instead, it bounced off him like that of a rubber ball. But the moment the knife landed on the ground, right next to it was a woman lying on the concrete. She had long flowing black hair, fair skin, and a pair of cat ears on her head.

A Faunus? But then for what reason was she wearing the exact same clothes as Adam was wearing? The same black clothing with the exact same rose emblem on the back of her shirt. ‘What on earth is going on?’ Weiss thought to herself, scanning the woman’s unconscious body just as she had scanned Adam moments before. And this strange woman was also a real entity, not an illusion. Made out of real physical atoms, flesh, and bones.

Who was this woman exactly?

“Save these people if you can,” Oz smirked, before his fighting Aura began to light up. He did not even move a muscle, but the power emanating from his inner willpower was strong enough to emit shockwaves aimed directly at where Jaune and Saphron were lying.

“NO!” Weiss shouted, as she leaped from where she stood, with Adam in one arm, and the mysterious woman in the other. There she stood in the middle of Oz’s shockwave of power to block it from hitting these people.

But the power of a God King could not be so easily thwarted. Because while Weiss herself was strong enough to withstand the full blast of this Aura shockwave, that did not mean there was no collateral damage when this powerful force began blasting behind her to explode the entire building into nothing but smithereens. Crushing the bricks into sand in a matter of seconds, almost as if the Aura was disassembling the very structure of the building down to the very last atom.

The moment the building collapsed behind Weiss was the moment she realized that the God King Ozymandias had vanished from sight. Another impossibility, because she was absolutely sure that she never once took her eyes off of him. And yet, by one way or another, the illusion was gone. Either slipping back into the shadows or vaporizing into the light.

Weiss walked out of this commotion unharmed, but in the middle of the rubble and dust – she began to sweat, grimacing as her mind rushed through all the possibilities trying to decipher how he had managed to accomplish this. She would quickly realize, however, that her hesitation in the matter was a mistake the moment she heard a scream from behind where Jaune was lying.

Saphron had inexplicably woken up from being knocked out and was now desperately trying to claw the boulder crushing on top of where Jaune was lying. Desperate tears flowed as she pushed it off trying to get his lifeless bleeding body out of the wreckage.

One single look with Weiss’s enhanced vision through the walls into the building and she knew right there and then, the sheer amount of people inside screaming in absolute agony from the destruction. Their cries were deafening to Weiss’s own enhanced hearing senses, piercing her eardrums to create a pain she was not prepared to deal with. Not a physical pain, but instead, one that attacked her mental state directly.

In the middle of this whole chaos, the only thing Weiss could muster to say under her breath was:

“Winter help me, what have I done?”

Chapter Text

“What you’re saying makes no sense,” said Sienna. “What do you mean you don’t know where the Superman comes from? I thought you were on the Atlesian council?”

“I don’t think he actually has a seat,” said Tukson. “I think he’s just assisting Ironwood.”

“That is correct, my friend,” Watts pointed his finger at him. “There are only five people on this entire planet who knows about the true nature of the Superman. The General of the Army, the General of the Air Force, the Fleet Admiral, Willow Schnee, and Pietro Polendina. Nobody else knows where she comes from, and how she is so powerful.”

“Then how do you explain these pills then?” Asked Sun, holding it out in his palm.

To which Watts approached slowly, taking it to gulp down his throat in one swift motion. Before he glanced around his ordinary office, seemingly looking for something specific. After a few seconds, he decided on one of the walls to the left where his table was. There caressing the hard concrete – the man clenched his fist and punched the wall as hard as he could to create a hole so deep his entire arm was swallowed deep into the hard stone.

“Holy shit!” Sun, Tukson, and Sienna all collectively gasped at the sight of Watts demolishing the wall like it was made out of tinfoil. The cracks on the wall were undeniable, the strength you could gain from that one pill was insanity.

It would all be interrupted in the end and replaced with a feeling of confusion the moment Watts pulled out his hand to reveal a bloodied knuckle and several broken fingers. The pain was visible on his wincing face, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

“As you can see, my friends,” Watts gritted his teeth. “These pills are impressive in that they grant you an enormous amount of power even without Aura application. With Aura amplification, you would be able to accomplish great feats of strength. But they are but an ant in the face of the Superman’s true power. Our science is still imperfect, and we could only make them last for a limited amount of time. There are also other problems as well regarding long-term damage, but I won’t bore you with the details. It’s why these pills aren’t standard issue yet.”

“This is insane,” said Sun. “Are you saying the gap in power between us and that… ‘thing’ is that far apart? How is that even possible? Is she even human?”

“We’re talking about a being so strong she could casually break the planet in an instant if she so wished,” Watts said as he focused his Aura to heal his broken hand. “We have no idea what her limits are, or if she even has a limit. The only reason we can quote-unquote control her at all is because she believes in the Empire’s cause.”

“So what do you suggest we do?” Sienna asked.

“Nothing, for now,” Watts replied. “The key to success is patience when the power balance is this skewed. Our time will come, but in the meantime, we should try to lay low – all of us, including myself. Speak to no one of our alliance, I’ll provide you with some communicators for us to keep in touch. You may open them yourselves to verify there are no tracking devices inside.”

“I came as quickly as I could, James,” said Pietro as he ran through the hall toward the entrance to Weiss’s room in this here vast Schnee Mansion.

“Thank you, where is Willow?” Ironwood asked. “I thought she was supposed to rest at home?”

“I can’t stop her when she’s like that, even when she’s sick. She told me she’s just off to her office to get something from Gardenia, though. So at least she’s not exerting herself too much.”

Ironwood nodded his head before proceeding to knock on the door.

“Weiss, honey,” Pietro called, almost shouting. “Are you in there? Come on out, honey. Let’s talk.”

“She’s in there alright,” said Ironwood after a brief pause. “I can sense her Aura inside.”

“I know, but something’s wrong. She’s never gone silent on me before.”

“Alright, step back,” said Ironwood. Before winding up for a strong kick, forcing his way through into her massive bedroom carved from the most beautiful glass and diamond money could buy.

The room inside was made out of some very high-quality shiny reflective floor tiles and walls, built in a way that looked almost as if they were sculpted out of everlasting ice. Holding up a tall ceiling with a long line of bookshelves placed along the left side of the room. What was peculiar, however, were the numerous amount of books being scattered all over the floor, tossed down in a surprisingly carefree manner for someone who was usually so insistent on being a perfectionist. All over the ground, on the armchairs and on the glass coffee table as well.

There floating by the large window frame, shining under the moonlight, Weiss looked on. In her right hand was a vial of a peculiar green substance that glistened like emerald, with a strong pungent odor that could be smelled from all the way out on the front door. Pietro’s own scientific knowledge allowed him to identify immediately what that substance was, and his mind immediately kicked into panic mode.

“I’ve failed,” Weiss said coldly. “I know… no poison on this planet can kill me. But I thought – at the very least it could’ve taken my powers away. Still nothing.”

“Are you insane?” Pietro barged into the room, yanked the vial out of her hand before tossing it straight onto the floor, shattering the glass. He muscled all the energy his old bones possessed to drag Weiss’s hands down to where he was, he wasn’t strong enough, but Weiss gave in, and descended from on high, feet touching the floor to listen to him scolding her. “Don’t you dare go around with these dangerous substances ever again, young lady! What on earth were you thinking?”

“But I failed, Pa,” she could not bear to even look him in the eyes. “I failed the people, I failed the Empire. And I failed myself. I don’t deserve this power.”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to say such a thing,” Ironwood chimed in, clearing his throat. “It was a tragedy what happened, but you should know that there were no casualties during your confrontation with King Oz.”

“With all due respect, General,” said Weiss. “I know there were no casualties. But people still got hurt, so I must bear the responsibility. It was my fault those people got hurt. I could’ve saved them all, but I didn’t.”

“Oh honey, we all have limits, nobody could’ve saved them all,” said Pietro as he held her hand closer.

“But I can,” Weiss shook her head, “I have that power. I should’ve been able to save them, all of them! What kind of an envoy am I if I can’t keep the people safe?”

“General Schnee,” Ironwood stepped forth, placing his hand on her shoulder. “There is someone here I would like you to meet.”

And there from the entrance to her room entered a surprisingly tall strong man in a sharp white military service uniform with a black undershirt. On his uniform was a single gold medallion pinned on the left side of his chest. And there on his head, he wore a simple military beret with the Atlas emblem on top over his short cleanly combed hair.

This man was tall, most likely even taller than even General Ironwood himself. And on his face was a single white eyepatch covering over his left eye – such a strong clean-shaven face with such a powerful jawline. And yet, that one single imperfection over his eye would go on to taint that fierce expression, turning into something much more focused, and perhaps even furious.

The man’s powerful fighting Aura could be felt even back all the way at the end of the hallway when he first arrived. But now that he was physically here inside the room, Pietro would quickly find it almost suffocating to even be in the same presence as this man, one whose black boots carried his long stride, and whose black gloves tightened as he extended his hand over to shake Ironwood’s.

“Everyone, this is Fleet Admiral Maru,” Ironwood patted his strong shoulder.

“I came immediately after I heard your call, James,” said Maru. “And this young lady is the Superman, I’m assuming.”

Weiss quickly stood up, extending her hand for the man to shake.

“It’s an honor,” she said. “I’ve read all about your work and accomplishments, sir.”

“The honor is all mine.”

“Sir, I would like to commence with any disciplinary action the Empire may have on my performance,” she said as she saluted the man.

“That will not be necessary,” Maru was quick to respond. “You are a good soldier, General Schnee. But not even your immense strength is enough to overcome Ozymandias’ trickery and magical abilities. I should know, after a lifetime combating him and his forces.”

“But sir, I…”

“Please, let me finish,” Maru raised his hand. “I have no doubt that in a contest of strength, there is no living creature on this planet capable of besting you. If given the opportunity, you can kill Ozymandias without so much as breaking a sweat. But what you need to understand is what we are up against. This war between us and that Prophet King is not such a simple endeavor, because this man, even as a refugee, still holds influence over an entire nation and its peoples. His own physical power is nothing to scoff at, as well. The power to singlehandedly combat an entire army should not be underestimated. But the kind of influence he possesses isn’t something we can just brute force, especially if it has ramifications over the economy or the social structure as a whole.”

“The Fleet Admiral is right,” said Ironwood. “You should not blame yourself for what happened. This is simply the nature of war, and more importantly the nature of King Oz. He is not something we can so easily control. People are going to get hurt, so all we can do is minimize that.”

“I understand you may blame yourself for being distracted,” Maru put his hand on Weiss’s shoulder. “I too was in your shoes once upon a time. It’s often easy to get caught in the moment, distracted by the puzzle that is the Prophet King when there are civilians nearby. I know the feeling better than anyone. Both of these objectives are important, solving the mystery of his power and saving people. So it is often a no-win situation.”

“So all we can do is try our best,” said Ironwood. “To keep the spirit of Atlas alive in these dark times.”

“It is quite frankly a miracle nobody died during the struggle,” Maru turned to Ironwood briefly, before turning back to Weiss. “So chin up, soldier. You are the Atlesian Envoy, if your spirit is strong, then that strengthens the spirit of our entire nation as well.”

“Listen to your commanders, honey,” Pietro hugged her tight. “You can’t do everything alone. So please, let us help you. You have friends, don’t you? It is moments like these where friends and family can prove invaluable. Don’t push us away, okay?”

“I…” Weiss sighed for a good long minute, before burying her head into Pietro’s embrace, “okay, Pa. I’m sorry I made you worry.”

“I’ll never stop worrying, my little snow angel. But in the future, if you have anything troubling you, you can always come to me, you hear me? Always. I’ll be here for you, and that’s a promise.”

“I will, Pa. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The Sacred Valley Hospital used to be more of a ritual ground where the sick would come to bask in the glory and magical power of their God King Ozymandias. The concept of modern medicine and technology was scarcely understood, as it was by intention, for the God King did not want the people of the Valley to rely on anything but the power of their King. Now that the Empire had marched south to take these lands, their machinery and inventions were able to spread far and wide, turning this shamanistic ritual ground into a proper hospital for the people of Vale.

And the speed that the doctors were able to work on the dozens of injured people was nothing short of a miracle. Hauled inside one by one, and in a single afternoon, they had been able to patch everybody up to a good condition where nothing else was required of them except for a few more bandages and a good night’s rest.

Saphron too had now been on the receiving end of Atlesian science now that the doctors had patched her up, good as new. Though in retrospect, she only really suffered minor scrapes here and there, and even though she had not been able to renew her insurance contract, the bill that came out for her injuries as it turned out will not be very severe at all.

But insurance and money were the last things on her mind at this moment, because all she could think about was her brother Jaune as she stared through the window into the room where he was lying, still slipping in and out of consciousness at this point. Jaune was one of those who received a much more severe injury relative to a lot of others. And although the doctors were able to work their magic to keep him alive, Saphron was still worried about potential long-term damage. Especially if they were severe enough to prevent him from being a Huntsman.

“I’m sorry Saphron,” Weiss’s voice sounded off from behind, almost startling the woman. “I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

Saphron looked into Weiss’s cold yet sincere eyes without a smile for a very brief moment, before beaming back to her usual happy demeanor.

“It could’ve been a lot worse if you weren’t there. We would’ve all been dead.”

“But Ozymandias wouldn’t have attacked if I weren’t there.”

“We can hypothesize about a lot of what-ifs, but the past is the past. So it’s best to just try to move on.”

“Yeah…”

“So – who is that woman over there exactly?” Saphron pointed to the mysterious black-haired woman with the cat ears. “I saw you carry her alongside that red-haired young man.”

Weiss sighed:

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. She’s going to be transferred to a secure government facility for some questioning once she recovers. But whatever she is, whoever she is, she must have some relation to Adam Belladonna.”

“Belladonna, that name rings a bell,” Saphron tapped her chin. “Well, I hope you figure it out soon. I have to get back to my room to rest. The nurses will rag on me if I’m gone too long. Take care of yourself, ‘kay?”

“Wait,” Weiss turned around, pausing for a brief moment as they made eye contact. “Am I… hurting you and your brother by simply being near you?”

Saphron’s facial expression suddenly turned serious, possibly for the first time in her life, or perhaps it was more accurate to say she had never reached this level of gravity before this point in time. She took one deep breath, before exhaling:

“I can’t say for sure if your presence here with us is a good thing or a bad thing. Sometimes I do wonder if your immense strength… well, what’s the word? Oh, ‘invites’ challengers, that’s it. Maybe it all happened for a reason, like some sort of invisible string pushing people together. Some people call that Destiny, but I believe Destiny lies in the power of the Seasons. And I can only pray to Winter that everything will turn out fine in the end. What happened was tragic, but you have done more good to this world than most people can in their entire life. I hope you never forget that.”

Weiss stared at her coldly, but clearly still taking those words to heart. Saphron continued:

“My brother is hurt physically speaking, yes, but I’ll tell you right now – I have never seen him as happy as he was these past couple of days. I just… I just want to see him smile. So please, if you’re going to stay with us – with him, I beg you only for one thing.”

“What is it?”

“To keep him safe.” Saphron grinned, trying to wipe a few droplets of tears from her eyes. “I’ll see you around, Ice Queen.”

Weiss had never had a problem confronting giant monsters who could crush mountains, or pirates who could split the oceans. But for whatever reason, talking to those who possessed no extraordinary ability themselves gave her a feeling she would rarely get to feel. Her muscles would relax from the tension and her lungs would exhale at a more infrequent pace.

She had always been scared of this feeling, truth be told. Because she had always been afraid of her own powers when floating around these normal people. Any wrong move would mean breaking them into pieces as easily as one would break a twig.

And yet, the way Saphron talked to her. Her kind gentle nature, and her calm desperation, to have such a simple honest soul have so much faith was something Weiss had never seen before. Because this wasn’t faith in an empire or faith in weaponry made of steel. Instead this was faith in a much higher place, coming from a much more noble source. Whether this source was divine mattered very little, because this was the heart of humanity, the good part of humanity.

Weiss would proceed to float inside the room, flying past several other patients before approaching where Jaune was lying. There the two nurses were almost startled by Weiss’ imposing shadow.

“Miss Schnee.”

“Give us a moment, please,” Weiss nodded. “Thank you.”

The nurses picked up their notes, thus leaving the two alone.

“Hey Jaune, how are you holding up?”

Jaune sat up from his bed, with his one broken right leg dangling up high, while his injured left arm struggled to find the button to adjust his reclining bed. His forehead had also suffered some damage as well, requiring a few layers of bandages to wrap around his dome. Yet, in the middle of this struggle for recovery, the young man still forced a smile underneath the plasters taped onto his cheeks and chin. Weiss could clearly see that it bothered him, but he still tried on regardless.

“Could be better, I suppose, ha-ha, ow.”

“Yes, clearly,” Weiss grinned.

“Is my sister okay?”

“She only has a few scrapes here and there,” said Weiss as she sat down onto a chair nearby, leaning over closer to him. “She was much more concerned about you to be perfectly frank. But she’s fine.”

“That’s… good,” Jaune sighed, rubbing his forehead with his good arm. Which caught Weiss’s attention.

“Something the matter?” She asked.

“No, no, it’s nothing, it’s nothing, it’s nothing” he repeated, glancing about. “I just… it’s nothing.”

“You know I can see your heartbeat right? You’re a terrible liar,” she grinned.

He smiled in kind, before it disappeared from his expression, frowning into something more somber.

“Can I tell you something, Weiss? Do you know what student quality grade I got when I applied to Beacon five years ago? A ‘D’ grade… just a measly D. It wasn’t even average, middle of the bell curve. I wanted to bury my head in the sand when that happened.”

“How did you get accepted then?”

“My mom and dad had to convince the school’s faculty to bump up my score to get me in. It was just barely enough, and – the rest is history, I guess,” he began to tear up. “Mom and dad were never extraordinary, nobody in our family was. But they put so much trust in me, I just… I just don’t want to let them down. The years went on, and my grades didn’t get much better, nor did my abilities, then there was that whole period with the Beacon restructuring where they gave every student a little bit of a break. Didn’t really help, to be honest. I feel like I keep… stagnating. But mom and dad never lost faith, they kept on praying for me. And still… I’m still just – useless. Completely, utterly useless. I couldn’t even protect myself, and my sister got hurt, too. If I can’t even keep myself safe, what good will I be?”

Weiss sat there silent, listening intently. Jaune continued:

“Anyway, it’s nothing you should concern yourself over. It’s my problem, and I’ll handle it by myself. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea to just move back home. Maybe… I’m just not cut out for this line of work. Maybe I’m just not meant to be good enough.”

“I don’t know if I would say that.”

Jaune raised an eyebrow, glancing over to Weiss.

“I have super-enhanced vision,” she pointed towards her eyes. “It is so strong that it actually lets me see other people’s Aura as well.”

“Whoa.”

“It takes some concentration, and some Aura are much harder to see than others. But I can see your Aura, Jaune. I’m not saying you have what it takes to be the best of the best. But there is – something there.”

Jaune kept on staring at her, even more confused. She continued:

“Your Aura reserve is much larger than that of a typical student. And that is not normal. It is still not as vast if we compare it to a veteran Huntsman, and the tension in your muscles would lead me to believe that you don’t have the stamina of a high-level professional either. You expend too much of your energy, not using it efficiently.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Jaune admitted.

“But these are things that can be fixed, or trained. If you’re willing to learn.”

“What are you saying?”

“A good friend of mine once told me that I never lacked the strength or ability, but instead what I lacked was the direction, and that I needed to focus,” Weiss smiled, thinking back. “And I think it’s only now starting to make sense.”

“Sounds like you have a good friend.”

“You have the potential, too. Lots of people do. But if they have a guiding hand alongside that, imagine what you’ll be able to do with all that hidden power.”

“I’m still not exactly sure what you’re trying to tell me.”

“What I’m saying is I can guide you to unlocking your inner strength. With my eyes and my own expertise, I can teach you the ways of Aura. It won’t be easy, but if you are willing, it can be done.”

“Wow…” Jaune paused, pondering for a second. “I don’t know what to say. That’s very generous of you. Are… are you sure about this? I don’t want to be a bother or anything.”

“It’s what your sister wanted,” Weiss shrugged. “She and I talked on our way here. She wanted me to protect you, to keep you safe.”

Jaune slapped his forehead at the mention of his sister.

“Oh, Saphron you crafty little fox.”

“Don’t worry,” Weiss stood up, towering over him as she patted his shoulder. “This is my choice. It’s nice to see your sister caring so much about you. But you’re not going to be a bother, this is what I want. I want to help.”

“And you’re absolutely, one hundred percent sure about this? I know how busy you are, going around, trying to save people, and you probably have a lot of paperwork, too. Since, you know, being so high up the military.”

“Well, what kind of an envoy would I be if I couldn’t even keep my boyfriend safe?”

Jaune sat there on his bed, not moving as his mind began slowly cycling through what he had just heard. He glanced up at her with his blank expression, before looking back down and around to see where he was, almost as if he was scanning to see if this was actually a dream. He stared on and on into nothingness for a good long minute, still cycling, only to then have his eyes almost pop out of his skull when he sat up, yanking his injured leg from the strap suspending it from the ceiling just as he shouted out loud:

“WHAT? OW! MY LEG!”

Chapter Text

“WHAT IN THE NINE LAYERS OF HELL DID YOU JUST SAY, JAUNE?”

It had only been less than two days ever since the accident, and less than half a day since the news broadcast broke. Yet everybody at school was already gathering around talking and gossiping as if the world was going to end. Not leaving Jaune any room to breathe as they swarmed him like hordes moths to a flame. It took a considerable amount of effort for Ren, Cardin, and Elm to pull him out of the crowd into an empty cargo lot behind the school’s cafeteria for them to have some moments of privacy.

Him surviving the God King’s attack was of course a big topic of conversation, but since the whole gang all collectively shared a single brain cell among themselves – or at the very least Cardin and Elm did – all they could really talk about was what Weiss told him when she paid him a visit in the hospital.

“Now are you absolutely sure she said ‘boyfriend’ and not something like… an alloy friend?” Cardin said as he winced.

“Bro, that literally makes no sense,” Elm punched Cardin’s arm.

“Makes more sense than this, I can tell you that,” he retorted.

“I hate to say it, but Cardin’s right,” Ren said, maintaining his poker face.

“See? Ren’s usually the one to call me out on my dumb ideas. Even he has no explanation. So check and checkmate.”

“That’s not how the expression goes.”

“Look, I don’t know what to tell you guys,” Jaune fumbled around, trying to collect his thoughts. “I just, well… I heard what I heard, you know? If we’re going to start theorizing about how I hallucinated the whole thing then what even is the point?”

“Listen, we’re happy for you, bro,” said Elm. “We really are. But you gotta admit, it is kinda hard to believe. I mean we’re talking about the Superman here, who is practically a god. And she’s not exactly known to be the socializing type, too. Look at what happened when your boy knucklehead Cardin tried to make a move.”

“Exactly,” Cardin agreed. “Learn from my mistakes, bro. It’s my gift to the world.”

Jaune sighed, scratching his bandaged head:

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s all just a dream and none of it really happened. If none of it was real then, yeah, it sucks I guess. But I really, really wanted to get better you know? Learning from the Superman herself… she’s so strong, and amazing. And I guess, I just want to get to know that better.”

“You’ve got some wonky priorities, bro,” Cardin laughed. “But I get you, no sweat. You wanna up your game and stuff, since graduation will be here before we know it. I can respect that.”

“Then there’s no point in delaying is there?”

A voice echoed from behind, startling all four of them as Weiss descended from above, floating a few inches above ground just as usual. None of them even noticed her approaching, as if a ghost had appeared out of thin air.

“Weiss, hey,” Jaune waved with his good arm. “How’s it going?”

“Does it matter?” Weiss asked coldly. “Come on, we’re going to be late for our practice session. It’s time I teach you how to heal yourself with your Aura.”

“Ooh, you hear that guys,” Cardin began nudging Elm and Ren, “they’re gonna go to their private session. Doing all sorts of inappropriate stuff I bet, like, like – holding hands… and smooching, ha-ha!”

To which Weiss only responded to that with a cold grimace, staring on in utter confusion:

“What on earth are you talking about? Why would we do any of that?”

And the four of them could only combat that with their own confused expressions. Staying silent for a few seconds before Elm mustered the courage to say:

“Because – you’re a couple now?”

“What?”

“You said he is your boyfriend, didn’t you?” Cardin pointed frantically at Jaune.

“Yes, and I don’t understand why that requires me to hold his hand,” Weiss said, as she continued to scowl. “Is this some kind of Valean ritual I do not know about?”

To that, the four of them could do nothing but stand there, completely petrified at her response. Never in their lives had they witnessed someone so clueless and oblivious, and to have those words coming out of the strongest being on the planet was just too bizarre to not question whether they were in a bad television show.

Too baffled by the predicament, Weiss simply shook her head and decided to move on, ignoring what these students were saying.

“Go back to class you three,” Weiss told them. “And Jaune, meet me by the entrance to the Forever Fall.”

And thus, she flew off at a speed that could casually break the sound barrier, leaving Jaune standing on the ground, still puzzled by what had just happened.

Raven Branwen, the so-called Pirate God, was one of the most formidable foes anyone had ever encountered on this planet. While it did take the Superman only a fraction of her strength and Aura to overpower Raven, the same was not necessarily true with her pirate armada. As it took the combined effort of Fleet Admiral Maru’s entire force to apprehend every single one of those pirates out there on the Eastern seas. Of course, Weiss’ own superhuman speed was instrumental in their arrests, but the pirates still fought back with an unwavering spirit, one that was difficult to dominate.

Or at least, it would’ve been for anyone other than Maru. The man who possessed the legendary Semblance named Ancient Warlord. A power that granted him the ludicrous ability to dominate other people’s willpower with Maru’s own will. Though, it seemed to come with some limitations, what these limits were was unclear. As Maru himself was rather conservative in its usage.

Now in the middle of this grassy field awaiting an Atlesian armored vehicle to escort Raven to a secret maximum security facility, Ironwood and Maru stood watch as they knew well it will take both of their full power to restrain this monster of a woman who called herself the Pirate God. It did not matter that she was missing an arm and was badly injured. She was still a hungry beast that should not be underestimated. One who could no doubt give either Ironwood or Maru a good fight if it were a one-on-one duel.

Even while restrained by Atlas’ strongest gravity cuffs, both the General and the Fleet Admiral still felt an uneasy air standing in the presence of this woman. Her feet were tied together, held down by gravity Dust, and her one good arm was completely useless with its nervous system completely disabled by the mechanical cuff. And yet, the woman still smiled on with that cold devious expression.

Sometimes Maru would shiver in disgust as he held his long coat over his shoulders closer under this breezy watchful moonlight.

“My old friend,” she coughed, struggling to smile, “Admiral Maru.”

“That’s Fleet Admiral to you,” Ironwood chimed in. “Show some respect.”

“Of course, of course,” she kept on grinning. “You know I respect the two of you, even you – James. The Gunslinger Duo. Two-thirds of what makes the Northern Giants. Come on, Maru. Give me my sword, let’s go a few rounds. You know you want to cut me. Because I sure as hell want to cut you, too.”

“Please be quiet,” said Ironwood. “Before I knock you out myself.”

“I’m talking to Maru here, thank you very much – James! How about it, big man? Let’s go a few rounds.”

“We are going to put you where you belong,” Maru said at last. “And your punishment will be living out the rest of your days knowing you will never fight me ever again. Or anyone for that matter. You will be given a fair trial, which is more than you deserve. And that trial will carry out Atlesian justice, you can be sure of that.”

“Boo, you’re no fun anymore,” Raven tried spitting on his boots.

There in the distance, Ironwood and Maru could spot a large armored vehicle approaching at an almost casual pace. The machine was so large it might as well be a tank. Neither Ironwood nor Maru could sense any other Aura signature inside the approaching vehicle except for a singular dense source, which they recognized immediately as belonging to the General of the Air Force.

Maru had insisted on this mission to be carried out without any of the lower-ranked soldiers as potential collateral damage in case things went south. Ironwood agreed, as he also knew the power Raven possessed. So to have her be escorted by Atlas’ three strongest generals was a no-brainer.

Obviously, they could’ve also had the Superman join them on this mission, but she did not have knowledge or access to every secret facility the Empire could offer, which was bizarre. But it was actually something she herself had said she would prefer, to give back a certain level of agency to those with lesser power than her. Because in her own words, she was here to serve the Empire, not the other way around.

Some people were okay with that kind of attitude, and they encouraged it as a matter of fact. But others like General Samantha Vulf were not so keen to accept. She saw the Superman as an asset, one that should be utilized to its fullest potential.

The woman was intent on letting her fellow generals know of her grievances when she stepped out of the armored vehicle. Such a strong and tall lady, six feet two, adorning a strict and sharp white military uniform with a tight combat skirt. Black leggings, white boots, buttoned-up sleeves, blue epaulettes, and a white Atlesian beret worn on top of her long luscious black hair that glistened under the moonlight like precious gems decorating her fair skin. All of which were complementary to the red tie she wore with pride over her dark shirt underneath the white uniform. Adjusting it as perfectly as she could just as she got off to walk over to where Ironwood and Maru were holding Raven.

“I really do not understand why we couldn’t just have the Superman take this wench to the facility herself faster than we can blink,” Sam began complaining. “This is a waste of time.”

“The Empire is built on the backs of people who do not cut corners,” said Maru. “You of all people should not forget that.”

“Sure, I’m just saying,” Sam raised her hand in defense, “I’m getting too old for this. You could’ve asked that Ghost Vester kid and his team to do this as well, Maru. But you didn’t. Could’ve been a good training exercise, I’m just saying.”

“Aw, would you look at that,” Raven smirked. “It’s like a high school reunion. I could shed a tear.”

To which Raven received a cannonball dropped on her skull for the comment.

“Quiet, you!” Sam caught the heavy metal ball as it bounced off her head. “It’s bad enough I have to be here. I don’t want to get my hands dirty touching scum.”

“Feeling’s mutual, you stuck-up bitch.”

“Let’s get going,” said Ironwood. “On your feet, Raven.”

“Wait,” Maru turned his head. “Do you two feel that?”

In the distant darkness of this vast nigh endless grassy plain were trees and shrubs all around, covered by the moonlit shadows. No matter how hard they tried to concentrate, it was clear there was nobody around here, no Aura signature for them to pick up.

And yet, they could feel that something was off about the scenery. It was quiet, a little too quiet. The shrubs and leaves sat where they were almost refusing to be blown by the wind, or even moved by any soft cold breeze.

There – from the darkness emerging at a speed that could rival light came forth a projectile zipping through the air aimed right toward Ironwood’s skull. It was only by Maru’s fast hand snatching the bullet out of the air did the projectile not make deadly contact. His glove was furiously smoking the moment he caught it in midair, steaming from the friction.

Ironwood could only stare on in complete disbelief, not from Maru’s ability, but rather from the fact that he got shot at all. Ordinary assassins knew the Northern Giants were permanently coated in a thick layer of Aura protecting them from any surprise shot that may go their way. So there was only one logical conclusion to draw from this here bullet that flew at them – this was no ordinary assassin.

“A sniper round,” said Maru, opening his palm as the smoke still hissed. “That is not possible, a round this big should’ve been heard from a mile away.”

“Silent rifle?” Sam asked. To which Ironwood shook his head.

“The round is still in its casing,” James pointed his finger. “This bullet wasn’t shot out of a rifle.”

“Bravo, old friend – you figured it out.”

In the air next to a couple of nearby trees were ripples in what looked like complete nothingness that slowly vibrated itself into existence, as the mirage before them began to take form into something a lot more solid. The power of illusion magick – the ability to conjure up what looked like images into solid pieces of reality. Stepping forth from this mind-bending piece of warped space were two very familiar figures. These two the three generals could recognize immediately.

The right-hand woman of the Lord God of Vale – General Glynda Goodwitch. Standing next to her was the Valley’s head Royal Alchemist, Peter Port.

It was possibly easy of a mistake to think General Goodwitch was an Atlesian soldier, especially if one were colorblind. The immaculate way she dressed in her military uniform adorned with black and purple silk, standing up straight in a strong tall posture as she adjusted her service cap above her golden hair while holding on tight to the blade sheathed by the side of her hip.

Her hand would tap patiently on the hilt as they approached closer on this grassy plain, hands wrapped by a pair of graceful white gloves. The way she gripped so firmly onto that handle – it was so still, one could be forgiven for thinking they were robotic limbs.

But the sword – it was a long thin military cutlass with a beautiful golden basket-hilt, so elegant and extremely sharp. And yet, it was hard to shake the feeling that the blade seemed to have never tasted any blood before. Which just seemed completely out of place in knowing the legendary conquests on Glynda’s résumé.

The woman walked forth, her heels cracking the very ground with every step, oozing powerful inner Aura. The boots she wore were woven from stylish strong black leather, but it looked as if it could barely contain the power of this woman as her muscle rippled of a hidden anger from within.

“Glynda…” Ironwood muttered under his breath, as he adjusted his tie. “It has been many years. You’re still here – with your old strength.”

Glynda chuckled, glancing down at her blade.

“Five years,” she said. “That is not a long time. Yet here we are. I’m nothing but a fraction of my former self.”

“No, you’re still as strong as ever,” said Ironwood.

“Cut the crap,” she snapped back. “It’s sickening how you can say that with a straight face. We are all ordinary when a flying demon circles the sky. The only difference between you and me is that she’s on your side. Think about the moment when that ceases to be the case.”

“Unlike you Valeans we don’t find loyalty in our blood,” Maru stepped in. “We find loyalty in our ideals. The flesh and blood can only last generations, but the spirit is eternal.”

“Waxing poetic now, Maru?” Glynda smirked. “What happened to the man who could only speak numbers and no other language?”

“That’s what I said!” Raven shouted, before receiving another cannonball to the head.

“Just answer me this,” Ironwood said, slowly reaching for the pistol on his hip. “After all those years – why now? And why here of all places?”

“Truth be told, I’d be lying if I said we planned this,” said Glynda as she glanced over the portly Alchemist standing beside her. The man cleared his throat before stroking his mustache with a subtle arrogance.

Port would step forth, adjusting the large red tie over his double-breasted burgundy suit before reaching inside his pocket to pull forth a folded piece of paper, holding it out for everybody to see.

“Do you generals know what this is?” Port asked. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot you people don’t have enhanced vision. Let me spell it out for you then – this is a letter I wrote to our God King Ozymandias, the contents of which is mathematical proof of the future. You of all people should understand the concept, Maru. The universe is a machine, and it runs on numbers, physics, and natural laws. And these concepts can be understood because they have limits. What can be understood can be solved – then predicted. That is the way it was supposed to be… at least, if we don’t consider the existence of the Superman. The fact that she is even breathing at all throws the natural order of things out of balance. Because she is not a being tied down by limits, or by laws. That kind of power – the sheer magnitude of it is liberating in a sense. I’m sure you all know that feeling. But when that kind of strength is siding with a power that does things which would only be exclusively beneficial to its own people – THAT is what I call tyranny!”

“We could have never foreseen you apprehending Raven Branwen of all people,” said Glynda, as slowly from behind she pulled forth a familiar device – Raven’s Dust-filled sheath and sword. Glynda continued: “Who could have guessed in a million years the Invincible Pirate God and her fleet would be swallowed by the depths? But here we are.”

Sam would look at this sight, crushing the cannonball in her palm into smithereens as she grunted:

“If you even dare to think for one second you’re freeing this human scum here, you’ve got another thing…”

And faster than the eye could track, Glynda would interrupt Sam’s words the moment she drew forth her sword and pointed it straight at the cuffs on Raven’s hand and legs, where from seemingly out of nowhere a barrage of bullets would ram straight forward shattering these shackles in a single strike. This was the power of General Goodwitch, her Semblance – one aptly named Telekinesis.

“I’m sorry, you were saying?” Glynda smirked, now pointing her sword at Sam who was growing more annoyed by the moment.

“James, Samantha,” Maru took off his long coat, tossing it in the air. “If we die here today, I want to let the two of you know – it has been a privilege serving beside you.”

Ironwood took out his giant revolver, cocking it as he said: “Likewise, my friends. May the righteous emerge victorious.”

“You’re still absolutely sure you cannot dominate their minds with your Semblance, Maru?” Sam asked. “One final chance to find out if this is to be our last day. Maybe things have changed.”

“Negative, General Vulf,” he shook his head. “They are too sturdy.”

“This is our moment of opportunity,” Glynda declared. “Destiny still bends to the will of the God King, we will prove it here today. Peter!”

Port nodded before pulling from his breast pocket a small vial with a strange green liquid inside. It sparkled brilliantly like emerald, but more importantly, it seemed almost alive somehow, oozing with electrical currents. Pulling off the cork, Port would gulp it down in one swift motion, savoring the flavor as he wiped it from his mustache.

“You see, gentlemen – I am not a fighter. I am an alchemist. But if I must defend our kingdom with a strength concocted in a lab, then so be it.”

“RAVEN!” Glynda shouted as she telekinetically tossed the sheathed sword over to where Raven was kneeling. Grabbing the handle with her one good arm, Raven smiled.

“Hello, old friend,” she whispered to the blade, as if finally able to breathe normally. Unsheathing it to reveal the crimson color beneath, she would begin cackling at her reflection. “Oh, how I miss you.”

“SAMANTHA!” Ironwood shouted, readying their fighting positions.

“Out of the way!” Sam yelled back.

Looking up, Raven finally realized General Vulf was already high up in the air, under the bright moonlight winding up to throw a massive cannonball the size of a large boulder. The image of a woman carrying a giant weight three times her size was something seared right into her mind.

Her form was immaculate, left leg bending, raising up high. Just as her elbow curled into a shape of a catapult before launching the massive metal ball from her cannon of an arm from thirty feet in the air. The speed at which it traveled was something so ludicrous Raven had a hard time believing it was real. Easily faster than most bullets.

“Oh shit,” Raven muttered under her breath.

Dashing from the collision, she was barely able to avoid the massive explosion that erupted after that gargantuan crash. Disoriented, Raven would find her only remaining option to rely on the assistance of strangers over where Glynda and Port stood. Raven knew these two had ulterior motives, but hers at the moment was to survive, no matter what it took.

“General Goodwitch,” Raven panted as she stood up. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Take this,” Glynda tossed Raven what looked like a small brown meatball of some sort. “It’s a standard military ration. The equivalent of a single meal. Will that be enough to replenish your Aura?”

Without a second thought, Raven tossed it straight down her throat, salivating like a monstrous animal. Wiping from her lips – she grinned ear to ear:

“No, not even close, but beggars can’t be choosers, ha…”

“Raven, I must remind you that you are still under arrest,” Maru formed his hand into a finger gun, pointing at where she stood. “Come quietly now, or there will be consequences.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, you old geezer,” Raven spat a mouthful. “I’m sick of your rules. Take out your blade – we are fighting NOW!”

“Very well. James, Gunslinger formation.”

“Yes!”

Standing back to back, the Gunslinger Duo stood pointing both Maru’s finger and Ironwood’s revolver at their foes, as the two of them began imbuing themselves with a thick coat of Aura. Glowing with the colors of a star, the energies inside could rival that of an atomic warhead. But everybody on this grassy field knew long ago – these men and women were much more dangerous than any mere bomb.

From the tip of his finger, Maru would fire off a blast of energy so thin and yet so dense it was nearly impossible to see coming, certainly even harder to detect when this projectile of pure energy was traveling at the speed of light. But Raven was no fool, for she had fought this man a thousand times before. She knew the potency buried deep inside those energy blasts from his finger as she skillfully side-stepped the projectile to have it erupt behind where she was like an exploding volcano.

Dashing forth she held her blade tight in her left hand as the heavy steps of her wooden sandals echoed forth in this dark night. Before she could even approach Maru, however, she was confronted with the barrel of Ironwood’s revolver firing off its Dust-filled bullets at a similar speed as Maru’s own energy shot, also empowered by Ironwood’s own Aura.

Thus, cutting that bullet was no easy task as Raven had to put in much more effort compared to a regular bullet. These people were the Northern Giants for a reason. And Giants would not fall so easily.

“I’ve got Raven,” Maru told Ironwood. “You take care of Goodwitch.”

“Smart choice,” Raven cackled.

“Sam! Don’t let Port out of your sight,” Ironwood shouted. “We don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“Oh, you’re about to find out now,” said Port.

Appearing in front of Ironwood before his eyes could track, James was absolutely shocked to see this large man moving at the speed he did. And from his inner coat pocket, Port would pull forth an unnaturally elastic-looking rifle which bizarrely began morphing into something much bigger, before placing it down on the ground to reveal that the simple rifle had now transformed into a proper high-caliber cannon with wheels on the side. Almost as if Port had just pulled this device off a pirate ship.

The blast from within was searing, launching Ironwood into the distance faster than either Maru or Sam could react. Was this the power of the potion that Port had just consumed earlier? Or was this the work of his Semblance? Or perhaps it was a combination of both.

Sam wasted little time pondering these questions, as she knew there were bigger concerns. Snatching another small metal marble from the pouch on her belt, she would begin imbuing it with the power of her own Semblance – Inner Force. The ability to grow objects to be supersize. Thus, from a marble the size of a pebble, she was able to grow this into a cannonball, further enhanced by her own Aura. Winding up once more, she raised her leg in the proper throwing form, and once again contorted her arm into the frame of a catapult to launch the ball toward where Port stood at breakneck speed.

But the Royal Alchemist would not be so easily deterred. Picking up the cannon he had just placed down which had now transformed back into an ordinary Dust rifle, he bounced off the ground using his own elasticity to narrowly avoid the speeding cannonball rushing toward where he stood. The bizarre power of this portly man still confused the Atlesian generals.

“Keep your eye open, Maru!” Raven yelled, dashing in from the left swinging her blade with as much force as she could muster, splitting the very ground in the process as she left behind a massive gash in the soil. Maru knew well the cutting power of this sword master, so he quickly back-flipped away as she quickly approached.

On the other side of the grassy field, General Goodwitch would dash forward, using her own telekinetic powers to lighten up her feet for extra speed. Her focus was on the General of the Army, charging forth with furious determination. Ironwood could feel the overwhelming bloodlust bolting through the atmosphere as he struggled to get on his feet. The air was dense, hard to breathe, and even at times difficult to see as steam began erupting from their bodies from the overwhelming power of their Aura.

“We wanted peace!” Glynda began swinging her blade, commanding a barrage of sniper rounds. “But your tyranny knows no bounds, does it? Answer me, James!”

“There is no peace under the reign of your King!” Ironwood fired off a few shots, stopping Glynda’s rounds dead in their tracks. “A mad man who wants to control the future, the flow of fate. And you have the gall to call us tyrants? You broke my heart, Glynda.”

“You do not have the right to say that after turning your back on us!” Glynda swung her sword, simultaneously dragging many more bullets behind as follow-up strikes, creating a flurry of continuous offensive pressure.

To which Ironwood would respond by blocking the blade with his own revolver, smacking it aside as he proceeded to shoot the rest of the bullets out of the air as if they were flies or bees, grabbing a few along the way with his bare hands.

“I loved you, James,” Glynda pointed her sword at Ironwood. “WE loved you. The King still cares for you. And you threw all of that away for what? Power? Land? Under his rule, you could’ve had all of that and more!”

“Even now you still do not get it,” Ironwood shook his head. “How can you? You are not Atlesian. And that is the problem right there. We from Atlas are not magical like you here in the Valley. Our bloodlines are ordinary. We have always had to fight – and we can never stop fighting!”

The man shouted, raising his fist to the moonlight to empower it with as much Aura as he could muster before driving it straight down to the ground, digging into the earth to get a good enough leverage point – just so he could pick up the entire plot of land itself as if he were merely peeling off an ordinary piece of tape.

Prying the dirt off, Ironwood would exert himself to an unimaginable degree, throwing Glynda off her balance as she struggled to stand still on top of the land Ironwood was cracking off. His Aura was blasting off as well, almost leaking out of his body uncontrollably.

Lifting a piece of the earth and flipping it over was one thing, but making it so it could actually harm Glynda was another matter entirely. And Ironwood understood that fact, which was why he had no intention of using this piece of dirt as part of his offense. She was simply too fast to get crushed like this. And even if she did not have the speed, her own Telekinesis was strong enough to overpower any piece of the ground Ironwood could have thrown at her.

All of this was simply to buy time. Time he did not even get to spend the moment he turned around to find himself on the receiving end of another cannon shot from Port’s inexplicable rifle. Ironwood barely had enough time to shield himself from the impact, and it still knocked him back at least a couple dozen feet. Where Port would continue to give chase, bouncing on the ground with his bizarrely elastic feet and even his own fat belly.

“Oh no you don’t!” Sam’s voice echoed peculiarly from behind.

And only when Port turned around did he understand why. The woman had used her own Semblance on herself, now growing to a mindboggling gargantuan size, absolutely befitting the title of a Northern Giant. Sam stood there at least twenty feet tall, as large as a small building. And there she would drive down an Aura-infused punch delivered with the ferocity of a burning meteor, one meant to raze this entire earth.

Port would ultimately be undeterred, however, as he knew he had the backing of his magical potion. One that could enhance his Aura tenfold to match the strength of a general. Blowing into his thumb, his entire arm would puff up in an instant. Inexplicably inflating as if his flesh were rubber and his muscles within were made out of balloons. Twirling around this giant fist, Port would confidently step forth to clash against Sam’s descending raging fist. In the process, creating massive shockwaves that uprooted numerous nearby trees and shrubs.

“Your people’s magick is getting more impressive,” Maru observed Port from afar, still preoccupied with Raven as she charged forth from the shadow. Only to have Maru retaliate by dodging her slash and nailing her with a solid high-flying heel kick in the face.

“These are not my people,” Raven grunted, wiping the blood off her mouth. “We share distant blood, but not our spirit. I will forever be free. No kings or governments will ever tie me down.”

“How long do you intend on running? You can’t do this forever. Nations and kingdoms have men and monsters who could rival the power of nuclear bombs. You are one of the rare few not affiliated with any of these kingdoms, one who possessed similar strength no less. But a nation can train to replace its military for the next generation. What will you do when you die?”

To that, Raven only smirked:

“You have your protégé, I have mine. Here we have a rare opportunity for us to cut loose. For the next generation as you say. Stop holding back for my sake, Maru. I don’t need your pity. Show me your nuclear bomb – and I’ll show you mine.”

And to that, for what seemed like the first time in Maru’s life – he cracked a smile.

A smile he would follow up with lighting up his bare hand, now finally showing Raven the legendary ‘sword’ of the Atlesian Fleet Admiral.

“Attaboy,” Raven stood up, readying her blade.

There on this grassy plain this day two monsters would charge forth in the middle of a sea of monsters. They would forego any sense of care they previously had for a brief moment of indulgence, to let go of all restrictions and limitations and finally go all out. The sword of the Pirate God would swing to clash violently against the Fleet Admiral’s Aura-imbued bare hand forming into the shape of a blue glowing blade, struck forward in a decisive stabbing motion.

The collision between these two godly Auras was so dense that neither of their swords could even make physical contact with one another. Pushed back by an invisible field of some kind as the shockwaves from their fighting spirit erupted all around them. And yet, the two continued pushing forth against one another with an unyielding determination, resolute in their desire to dominate the other with not just their physical strength, but their willpower.

This was the world of Remnant. A land where monsters and giants roamed to exert their will upon the sacred soil blessed by the Seasons on high.

Chapter Text

Please, Winter give me strength. Tell me it is not true.

These thoughts echoed inside Weiss’ mind as she flew across the sky easily surpassing light speed to zip across these continents to a small island off the northern coast of Vale. An unnamed place that Weiss deduced to have housed a secret facility of some kind after briefly scanning it in the air with her super vision.

What she was looking for, however, was not the facility built into the ground by the side of the small mountain. Instead, all she could think about was the grassy plain bloodied with three bodies she refused to believe were even lying on the ground.

There in the distance, she could spot waves of soldiers and medics being deployed to help contain the situation and patch up these terrible wounds. What they could not stop was much more frightening, as the news broadcast had arrived on the scene on their helicopters. Descending to this plain with their cameras to announce the terrible news for the entire world to hear:

GENERAL JAMES S. IRONWOOD, GENERAL SAMANTHA VULF, FLEET ADMIRAL MARU – FOUND DEAD, KILLED IN ACTION.

These terrifying words echoed on the news reporter’s mic for Weiss to hear as she descended from the sky onto the scene. Her eyes grimaced into a mixture of rage and confusion, thinking what she must have heard was a mistake. Surely they must have made a rash premature decision to announce that impossible news. These were the Northern Giants we were talking about. Three of the most powerful people on the entire planet.

But alas, the scene she was beholding upon was not a lie. Three bodies lying in three separate craters near the size of this whole island, all bloodied from head to toe with scraps of dirt all over their torn uniforms. But perhaps what the news had reported was not the whole truth, for it was Weiss’ enhanced vision that had begun picking up microscopic trails of Aura still lingering on the mangled bodies of these three generals. Zooming in even further into their cells and beyond into their organs – there she would learn the truth.

These three were still alive. With their hearts barely beating, but there was no mistake about it. The coats of Aura that once permanently covered their entire bodies now were barely able to flicker bright enough for an ordinary pair of eyes to pick up.

Weiss would zip around back and forth between the three bodies all in these craters dozens of feet apart to examine their wounds. There on Maru’s body, she could spot many fractured bones still being barely held together by the force of his subconscious Aura.

What was more notable, however, were the deep cuts he received all over his body. One notable stab wound on the left side of his shoulder, and most importantly was his right hand – that looked almost like they were dipped in lava. Almost burned to a crisp, his fingers would twitch as the medics helped him up onto a stretcher and began bandaging that charred forearm. His black glove had been completely vaporized into the air from the sheer force of the damage alone, almost leaving no trace behind except minor subatomic particles of the black leather Weiss could barely pick up within the atmosphere.

Glancing over to where General Vulf was lying, Weiss would find a completely different story compared to Maru’s injuries. As the woman had received no cuts or slashes on her body, instead there were only burn marks and an insane amount of broken bones all across her skeleton. It was essentially harder to find spots that were not broken compared to spots that were crushed to almost smithereens. All things considered, it was a miracle how her body still managed to hold itself together. With her muscles still pumping ever so slightly and enlarging in a manner that was dissimilar to ordinary muscle fibers. Weiss could only conclude this irregular swelling and deflating was the work of her Semblance.

All of this in the end proved to be insignificant compared to the sight Weiss had to witness when she approached Ironwood’s body being hauled away by the doctors. He did not suffer any wound that was much more severe compared to the other two, but just the sight of the damage being inflicted on his body both internally and externally simply tore Weiss’ heart apart. To see this man who had watched over his own soldiers like they were his own was something Weiss was simply not ready to confront. Strong cuts and slashes all over his limps, his torso, bloody bruises on his cheeks, and most importantly were the fractures on his bones within. Tiny cracks made all over the place, much more concentrated and precise compared to General Vulf’s more destructive injuries. It was as if these tiny cracks were caused by miniscule projectiles the size of pellets being hurled at his body over and over again.

Weiss’ fists clenched as her eyes fired up with cold unrelenting fury. More determined than ever before to get to the bottom of what had happened here this day and right this injustice caused upon Atlesian soil.

Floating in the middle of this carnage, her fighting Aura began to rage. Emanating an intense gravitational wave of energy to catch all the soldiers’ and medics’ attention just as she cleared her throat to echo a booming voice:

“Who – did – this?” Weiss pointed her finger at a nearby soldier. “You, report!”

The man approached, saluting her then said:

“General Ironwood, Fleet Admiral Maru, and General Vulf were escorting the pirate prisoner Raven Branwen to a secret facility five hours ago before they were ambushed by an unseen force, freeing the pirate in the process.”

“What? That’s impossible. My eyes and ears would’ve picked up something of this magnitude. Who is the assailant?”

“This is Ozymandias’ doing, no doubt about it.”

Weiss turned her head around to meet a familiar face – Qrow Branwen. Who had arrived on the scene having brought along his weapon he hung from his back compacted under his cape.

“Sir Branwen,” Weiss floated over.

“You don’t need to call me Sir,” he said. “I no longer carry that title.”

“You recognize this as Oz’s work? How?”

“Many of Oz’s top lieutenants are proficient in illusionary magick,” Qrow explained. “He taught them himself. I was never privy to those lessons. Partially because I never paid any attention. But also because I could never wrap my head around those kinds of… esoteric ideas.”

“You’re saying Oz and his forces used illusions to conceal this battle from my eyes?”

“Yes. They covered this whole island in a kind of illusionary fabric. There are still traces of them all over the place. Difficult to see from afar,” Qrow imbued his fingers with his own Aura before grabbing a thin almost invisible piece of parchment out of the air. It glowed brilliantly of a bright white light between Qrow’s fingers, sparkling with a strange energy still.

“What is that?”

“Pure energy, sourced from Oz’s own Aura if I have to guess,” Qrow scanned the piece of fabric, flipping it over. “I can’t say for sure how it works exactly. I’m not a scientist myself. And of course, nobody really knows how Oz’s powers work.”

“You there, take these samples to the labs for analysis,” Weiss waved over some nearby soldiers, before continuing to scan the environment around. “I still do not understand how they managed to defeat the Giants.”

“They didn’t,” Qrow responded, before pointing his finger forward. “There are footprints, tracks leading into the trees.”

“They were retreating.”

“Exactly. I know James. I know it is not possible for him to go down without a fight. It’s clear the assailants also suffered heavy damage as well,” Qrow pointed to the bloody trails following those footprints. “What a monster. James and I used to be close, you know. Close enough to even be in Oz’s circle. Now that club has gotten a lot more exclusive over the years.”

“What did you just say?” Weiss glared down to Qrow. “General Ironwood said he’s never met Ozymandias.”

“That’s not true,” Qrow spun his head around. “He and I go way back.”

Things just got more and more confusing as the seconds went on. Why on earth would Ironwood lie to Weiss about this?

Qrow continued:

“Regardless, the most important thing now is that I know who attacked James. Those wounds on his body. The very specific way his bones were shattered. That is the signature mark of General Glynda Goodwitch. She is Oz’s right-hand woman. These were no doubt caused by her Telekinesis. She usually likes to toss around sniper rounds.”

“She must’ve had help. Damaging the Northern Giants to this extent is no simple feat. It is impossible for her to accomplish this alone.”

“Someone else was definitely with her,” Qrow tapped his chin. “Most likely candidate is Peter Port. But he was never a fighter. If he was here, how was he able to get so strong?”

“Port is an alchemist, is he not? Perhaps he’s developed some kind of concoction to enhance his physical abilities.”

“Maybe.”

“We have a working theory then,” Weiss took more samples for the soldiers before dismissing them with a salute. “Raven Branwen being freed leads me to believe she may have teamed up with Glynda to even the playing field. That is how they were able to stalemate the Giants. But then there’s just the matter of the news report. Why on earth…”

“… Would they report that the Northern Giants are dead?” A new voice emerged from behind, “Is probably what you’re wondering.”

Weiss turned around to meet the gaze of Councilman Sleet, a high-profile member, well-known across all of Vale and Atlas. This slender old gentleman with graying hair would extend his hand for Weiss to shake just as he had finished readjusting his blue tie over his suit.

“Councilman,” Weiss shook his hand. “I never expected to see you here.”

“It’s a national crisis, General. I know the decision to report the Giants as dead may seem confusing, but believe me when I say this is actually part of General Ironwood’s directive. He carried with him a button he installed on the cuffs of his uniform that is capable of sending a signal back to our military headquarters, signaling us to commence these backup plans. The purpose is twofold – one, if he were to really meet his demise, which thankfully that did not happen, the Atlas Empire must be quickly alerted to find a suitable replacement to take his place.”

“We’ll still have to do that now that he is out of commission,” Weiss commented.

“Yes, that is correct,” Sleet agreed before continuing his explanation: “but the second purpose for these directives is more a matter of… shall we say, in the interest of the Empire’s public image. It is of utmost importance, according to a lot of the Councilmen’s opinion, including my own as well, that the Empire must give off an image of superior strength and safety. One that cannot fall so easily even in the event that our chain of command is to be disrupted. It is crucial that the people understand the fact that the future of the Atlesian military is stable and can be replaced with little trouble and utmost efficiency. And more importantly, it would be beneficial if our foreign enemies know that as well. War is all about deception, as you know. If the Giants are to survive this skirmish with our enemies thinking they were dead, that is a massive tactical advantage. But still, we don’t want to give off the feeling that the entire nation’s military power is entirely dependent on a handful of individuals, no matter how powerful they may be.”

“And you are referring to me as well, I’m assuming.”

“Correct, General Schnee. I know you want to help, and I’m sure you are perfectly capable. But I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to scale back your involvement this time around. Just to have the focus solely on the Council’s chamber.”

“You want me to sit back and do nothing.”

“No, of course not,” Sleet cleared his throat. “You can help out in the background with the troops. Just don’t make yourself known, is all I’m asking. We’re going to hold a press conference this afternoon to address the current crisis. There’s going to be a lot of cameras, the whole world will be watching. So it is absolutely vital that we let the world know that the government and its systems have got this under control. I myself would prefer if this war stays cold. An official declaration against the kingdom of Vacuo would be… troubling to say the least.”

Weiss fell silent, dozens of thoughts going through her mind. None of which she got to process fully before Sleet stepped forth and put his hand on her shoulder, smiling:

“I know you understand, General Schnee. It is for the greater good of this country. So thank you for your service, but you are dismissed for the day – soldier.”

The councilman saluted Weiss, nodding his head as he disappeared into the crowd of soldiers, detectives, and medics. It was difficult to fathom how someone could be so invisible, to wield such a position of authority to only then disappear back into the world as if they were never there to begin with. Such terrifying power acting behind the scene.

“You okay, little lady?” Qrow asked.

“Ozymandias must be held accountable. He cannot be allowed to continue on.”

“I’m assuming you want to declare war.”

“With Vacuo, maybe not. But with Ozymandias? Absolutely,” Weiss clenched her fists. “I don’t necessarily disagree with Sleet and his views. But this uniform I wear means something. The flag I fly high in the sky means something. I am the Atlesian Envoy. If I back down, what would that look like?”

“You do what you think is best. It’s all anyone can do.”

“May I ask you something, Qrow?”

“Shoot.”

“If you were Raven, where would you go?”

To which Qrow only shook his head.

“My sister’s actions never made sense to anybody but herself. I do often wish that isn’t the case. If only I could wind the clock back to those old days when we were young. I got a second chance with my nephew, and I’m thankful. I just… I just wish I could get one with my sister, too.”

Jaune would sit back on the red grassy bed that the Forever Fall was able to provide. Glancing in the sky, he would feel a certain anxiety kicking in his gut when he thought back to about thirty minutes ago when Weiss flew off in a hurry. She had this focused expression on her face, all blended together with components of confusion, anger, and sadness to make such urgency surface to the top.

And it was only when Jaune checked the news broadcast on his scroll did he finally understand what Weiss was going through. This wasn’t merely a reaction to something that happened to a military superior. Jaune himself understood this emotion very well, because it was one he felt toward his sisters, his mother, his father. And that look on her face when she flew off at that insane speed was unmistakable.

Jaune had never experienced this with any of his fellow classmates, who were all soon-to-be soldiers. But family was something universal and most importantly – primal. They simply could not be ignored on a fundamental instinctual level.

“I don’t know if you can hear me… I think you can,” Jaune muttered to himself. “But if you need someone to talk to. I’m here for you. I know we haven’t really known each other for long but… I don’t know. I just want to help, is all.”

“I can indeed hear you, Jaune,” Weiss appeared behind, descending from above.

“Oh crap!” He leaped from where he sat, spinning his head. “I can never get used to that.”

“I’ll… try to slow down next time,” Weiss extended her hand.

“I heard what happened on the news,” Jaune said, taking that hand as Weiss pulled him on his feet. “I can’t believe the Giants are gone, just like that. How could this have happened?”

“You already have a pretty good guess. You’ve been at the receiving end of his power once before.”

“Oh,” Jaune stood there, now realizing the implication.

“You already have lots of things to focus on,” she said. “I’ll be fine. Just need some time to take my mind off things, before the press conference this afternoon. Lots of paperwork to be done, I’ll also need to have a talk with some of the councilmen. But I haven’t forgotten what I promised you. I will teach you the ways. The real question is are you ready to learn?”

“Sure, I guess. I don’t know how much work I’ll be able to do with my arm like this, though.”

“Not to worry. We’ll take it easy for the first lesson today. Aura mastery is a lot more spiritually and mentally taxing than most people realize. So come on, take a seat. Right on the grass here.”

Jaune complied as Weiss sat down with him, beginning her explanation:

“I’ll let you in on a little secret, something most scientists are actually still debating to this very day. Mostly because nobody on this planet has eyes as perceptive as mine, eyes that can see down to the very atoms and beyond. But the truth of the matter is – Aura is actually all around us.”

“What?”

“Or at the very least a form of energy extremely similar to Aura flows through the fabric of the universe. They are all interconnected. It’s a little abstract to understand, but… how well do you understand the concept of gravity?”

“Physics has never really been my strong suit, I suppose.”

“To make an extremely long story short – gravity is a fundamental force of the universe. The glue that holds all of reality together. If you think about the way science has claimed about how the universe came into being, surely you must have wondered how something was born out of nothing.”

“Huh… now that you mention it…”

“Spiritually speaking you may look to religion to find the answer about what happened and why things came into being – the Blessings of the Seasons, as you know. But the how of it is much better explained by the phenomenon we have come to know as gravity. It is a theory proposed by hundreds of scientists that the universe came into being after being influenced by the forces that made subatomic particles ram into each other from nothing. Keeping in mind the laws of thermodynamics where energy can neither be created nor destroyed, the only remaining explanation that makes sense is by usage of an invisible gravitational force innate within everything in the universe. There are some people skeptical of these claims, but if they can see what I can see – there would be no doubt left about it.”

Jaune nodded, listening attentively. Weiss continued:

“These gravitational fields manifest in all sorts of different ways. When manifesting within inanimate crystals in nature, the gravity when placed in a specific but ideal situation through complicated chemical reactions would be able to draw out the inner potential of certain objects, minerals, soil we can find out there in the environment. When a certain object gets empowered enough to be noticed – humans would then label them Dust.”

“Whoa.”

“I am massively oversimplifying the science here. But for the purposes of our training, the most important thing you need to understand is that gravity can also similarly draw out the innate potential within the human soul. And for the purposes of classification, this phenomenon of the empowered spirit from within is called Aura. And to strengthen your Aura, training it to make it stronger, you will also need to reach deep within and draw it out even further. Further than what natural gravity will be capable of doing.”

“We do that mentally, and spiritually?”

“Yes.”

“So, like… we just sit here and meditate?”

“You need to clear your mind,” she tapped on his forehead. “Which is easier said than done. But once you are able to do this, you will start to see your mind much more like a vast ocean, or even a universe from within. One where you can draw energy from…”

And just like that, Weiss was cut off by the loud sound of Jaune’s stomach rumbling.

“… Which is very obviously hard to do on an empty stomach,” she said plainly, as Jaune began to laugh nervously.

“A guy’s gotta eat, I suppose. Here, my sister packed lunch. She actually gave me an extra box, told me to give it to you,” Jaune’s face began to redden. “Saphron is always like this, you know how she is. Go ahead, eat up. Otherwise, she’s going to scold me again.”

“I… do not eat.”

“Pardon?”

“I’m not hungry. Or rather, I’m never hungry.”

“Really?” Jaune’s eyes widened. “You’ve never eaten anything in your life?”

“I’ve never had to. My body never tires, it never goes hungry. I don’t think I’ve ever even sweat.”

“Wow… so – you’ve never even tasted a piece of food before? Not even out of curiosity?”

To which she simply shook her head.

“Then you have got to try out some of these then,” Jaune peeled off the lid excitedly, to reveal a simple rice dish with beautifully caramelized beef cubes. “It’s not much, Saphron’s always busy these days. But since I figured you’ve never eaten before it’ll still be a new experience. Here, I brought an extra fork.”

Practically shoving the box and the utensil onto Weiss, she could clearly see how giddy he really was despite trying his best to hide it. Her face remained cold and unchanging, staring down the box of steaming food on her lap as she picked up the silver fork, toying with it in her fingers to get a good feel.

Such an ordinary meal, even when flying far above in the skies she could often spot far in the distance the sight of people going into restaurants to eat food much fancier than this prepared by the best chefs in the world. But seeing the food up close and personal somehow felt completely different from the experience she felt looking at it through walls. Many tiny nuances and details she would often ignore, now were in full view of focus.

The thought had never even crossed her mind before this moment, but she wondered right there and then, ‘what even was the appeal of eating food that had the entirety of humanity so enamored, so enthralled? It was such a human concept,’ she thought to herself. Realistically speaking, there was nothing extraordinary about simple cooking like this. Weiss could zoom down to their very atomic structure to deduce exactly what they were made out of, and what kind of nutritional benefits they could provide. Certainly, nothing that could even allow a human to gain enough strength to punch through walls.

And yet…

Even after going through all of her internal rationales, she still could not help herself but be drawn into this entirely new concept sitting in front of her, making her think back to the theory of gravity they were just discussing mere moments ago. Such a human element, there was no denying that. But one she had yet to experience.

The young woman was cautious, perhaps a little to the extreme, even as she brought the chunk of meat closer and closer. Sniffing the strong scent and the subtle colors of the sauce, she would slowly chew the soft chunk of this beef, absorbing every small bit of flavor she could take.

“So?” Jaune sat there eagerly waiting. “What do you think?”

Weiss would gently put down her fork, before opening her eyes to look Jaune straight on.

“I do not think I have ever experienced something like this in my entire life,” she said plainly.

“Wow, you’re serious?”

“Well, truth be told, I actually flew across town to a nearby restaurant one second ago to pay for a similar beef dish just so I could have something to compare to. Yours is relatively mediocre in comparison if I’m frank.”

“Oh… I see…”

“But nobody has ever offered me lunch before in my life,” she continued. “Besides my Pa, I suppose, but I’ve never really eaten his food. Always been too busy… but I do know this – I will never forget my first. This here – it is simple, ordinary, and… I just want to thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

And there on her face was a cold yet somehow warming smile shining brighter than a shooting star. One that made Jaune’s heart skip a beat as his face began to grow red once more. It was no secret the young man thought Weiss was beautiful. But to see the ice melt on her expression was as if he was witnessing a once in a lifetime comet, brilliantly crossing the vast unending sky far above where he stood on this mortal ground.

“Ah, well, you know it wasn’t that big a deal, to be honest,” he nervously scratched his head. “I’m still not all the way there yet. Still got a lot to learn, my techniques are still all sorts of sloppy, and…”

“I thought you said Saphron was the one who made this.”

Jaune instantly scrambled for a good answer the moment he realized the slip up:

“Oh, you know, who knows what people even said, am I right? Words are just… made-up words, and I totally did say that, didn’t I? Well, maybe I just got it mixed up with the other day is all, you know how it is. Oh god, you’re reading my heartbeat right now, aren’t you? I swear I’m telling the truth this time, I… why are you smiling? Come on, cut it out.”

But she refused. Continuing to beam her bright expression as Jaune got redder and redder by the second. There was a sense of tranquility in watching this simple young man, a simple sense of peace she was happy to experience. And it was at that point where Jaune simply decided to give up and just laugh along with the flow, letting whatever this was between them last for as long as possible. For Jaune did not want this moment to end.

“I meant what I said earlier, you know,” said Jaune. “I’m here for you, to help you get through what happened earlier today. I know how terrible it is to lose someone close to you. Or rather, I can at least imagine it. Because I don’t think I can handle it if the same happened to anyone in my family.”

“What would you do?”

“I’m sorry?”

“What would you do if someone tried to hurt the people you care for?” She repeated. “Would you go out for revenge? Or would you stay behind to protect what’s left, doing what’s right?”

“Wow… that’s a difficult question. But I don’t think the real world is so simple. Things aren’t usually so binary. Sometimes they are, but sometimes certain things aren’t necessarily mutually exclusive. Maybe sometimes going on a more proactive approach is also the same as doing what’s right, know what I mean? I just think about what would happen if my family got attacked. I’m not strong enough to keep them safe every single time. So maybe it’s better to nip it in the bud. Or… I don’t know.”

“Jaune…” Weiss pointed down at Jaune’s bandaged arm.

And to his complete shock – it was completely healed. Glowing with a steady stream of inner Aura so warm that Jaune was surprised it was even there to begin with. He wiggled his fingers freely as he tore apart the cast, swinging his arm around – he was completely flabbergasted at how light it all felt. It was as if he was never even injured to begin with.

“I told you,” she said. “There is something there. You just don’t know it. So don’t be quick to judge yourself so harshly.”

“Ladies and gentlemen of the Council, please welcome – King Theodore of Vacuo.”

There on the holographic screen in front of the Atlesian Councilmen round table appeared the face of the one prestigious King of the West. A man with a dark complexion adorned by his clean close cut hair and a glorious mighty beard. Sitting on his throne the man wore a beautiful sky blue vest underneath a brilliant sapphire silk royal robe made from the finest fur a hunter could possibly obtain.

The man glared down at the Atlas Council from where he sat, grimacing. Letting it become increasingly clear he was struggling to not get too irate – or perhaps even excited.

“Gentlemen, ladies,” the king winked, “a question that is often on everybody’s mind every day of the week is thus – who is the Superman?”

“King Theodore, that’s…” Sleet raised his voice, trying to interrupt only to get overpowered by Theodore’s booming shout.

“SHE’S A GODDAMN CRIMINAL IS WHAT SHE IS. An illegal who’s probably not even human or Faunus frolicking around like she owns the damn place. What the hell is she doing on my planet? One moment I look and I see my father making deals and concessions with some low-life punk who calls himself the God King, the next I see you Northerners marching down south to take the Valley for yourself! Who authorized these stupid ass decisions?”

A servant of the king quickly whispered in his ear.

“What do you mean nobody authorized it?” Theodore snapped, “An invasion? The hell it is! You speak like that in front of me again and I’ll show you what an invasion looks like. Get the fuck out of my room! Now – where was I? Oh, right. Now you baboons better listen here, listen close and listen well.”

“We’re… listening,” Sleet sighed, humoring him.

“It’s no secret how I feel about that goddamn God King or Cod King or whatever the hell he calls himself marching his army west into MY fucking desert and persuading my father to essentially hand over the kingdom to this foreigner. But it needs to be said that I respected my father, may Summer bless that beautiful bastard in the afterlife, amen. ASHER! Get your ass over here, I’m shedding a goddamn tear.”

“I thought you told me to leave, sir.”

“That I did, and I’m gonna tell you to double leave and launch you into space if you don’t do what I say, GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!”

“Oh, your wife said she fell down the stairs, by the way,” said Asher. “She’s in the hospital, should something be done about it?”

“Yes, go get a tiny violin and toss it at the foot of her bed, she’ll know what it means. Go on, what are you waiting for, a raise? Go, go, go, go! Now where was I? Oh, yes. Ozymandias is a punk and a fool, but at least he and his posse gave us enough firepower to the point we don’t even need to bust out our nuclear bombs anymore whenever some kid got my coffee order wrong. Especially when we got that goddamn illegal ALIEN flying above the sky to compete against. Now if you Atlesians are just gonna come in here in MY house and start crying about how your three main generals were too much of a bunch of pussies to even get out of their beds and off their lazy bums then boy, do I have to say, you better start posting new job applications for those positions. Because if you think you’re going to declare war on Vacuo over THAT, then you people have another thing coming. I am going to…”

“King Theodore!” Sleet’s voice exploded from a megaphone, finally catching the king’s attention.

“I have got to get myself one of those,” Theodore whispered to another servant.

“Thank you,” Sleet handed the megaphone back to an officer. “King Theodore, I feel it is appropriate to say there has been a misunderstanding. The Atlas Empire is not going to declare war on the kingdom of Vacuo. I repeat, we have NO intention of declaring war, despite the circumstance.”

“You… you don’t?”

“Yes, sir. We do not. It is unprecedented, indeed. Never in the history of this entire nation have we experienced three empty seats on this Council. That’s not even mentioning their positions in the military. But rest assured, you have nothing to fear, for we take these diplomatic matters extremely seriously.”

“Clearly not seriously enough.”

A booming voice echoed behind the round table of the Council, followed shortly after the sound of a storm exploding from the shattering of the sound barrier. Turning his chair around, Sleet began wondering if he was actually in one of his nightmares. Pinching himself under his coat, he came to the horrifying realization that the Superman was hovering above everybody in this room, slowly inching inside to face the king of Vacuo.

“General Schnee – what is the meaning of this?” Sleet demanded.

Weiss did not even turn around to answer, instead only titled her head just enough for him to see.

“I’m sorry, Councilman Sleet,” she said, very clearly talking to all the cameras and photographers all around. “But I find your lack of faith in the power of the Empire and its people incredibly disturbing. To think a leader of this country would resort to underhanded tactics and deception to fight its wars. What is even more disturbing is your willingness to completely ignore the atrocities that have been occurring on the Empire’s soil. That is the reason why I am here, to set the record straight, because I will not lie. If the person with the most powerful pair of eyes on the planet is a liar, then true tyranny is among us. Listen close – THE NORTHERN GIANTS ARE NOT DEAD!”

“General Schnee!” Sleet stood up, pointing his finger in the middle of everyone gasping. “You have crossed the line. Who do you think you are? Do you have any idea what you have done? How dare you?”

“No, Councilman,” Weiss shot him a glare with such gravitational force it made him fall back to his seat, “how dare you? I am the Atlesian Envoy, the symbol of Atlas’ power and glory. And you dare to even think of telling me to back down while you lie to the people and the rest of the world?”

“What the hell are you babbling on about here?” King Theodore asked, to which Weiss turned back to the big screen.

“I’m afraid you have been deceived, King Theodore,” said Weiss. “And to that, I must apologize. But there is one thing that came out of Sleet’s mouth this afternoon that was not a lie. And that is the fact that we here of the Atlas Empire do not wish to declare on the good nation of Vacuo.”

“And I got worked up over nothing,” the king crossed his arms. “ASHER! Never wake me from my nap ever again, you hear?”

“I’m afraid I am not quite finished,” Weiss pulled Theodore back in, annoyed at his antics. “Just because we do not wish to declare war on Vacuo, does not mean we do not wish to declare war at all.”

“What?”

Weiss floated up high, affirming her position above the round table below.

“Our nation is in crisis!” She announced, “The General of the Army, the General of the Air Force, and the Fleet Admiral may not be dead, but it is still unprecedented to have all three of the most powerful men and women on the planet be damaged and injured to such a catastrophic degree. And as the Atlesian Envoy – I hereby proclaim myself to be the acting Chancellor of this entire nation in their absence, effective immediately.”

“WHAT?”

“On whose authority?” Sleet cried. “This Council will never approve such a thing. If you go through with this, I swear I will have you court-martialed right here, right now!”

“Under normal circumstances, I would not resist the Empire’s wishes. But in this state of emergency, I have no choice but to invoke the right by strength. In that, if you – or any of the Councilmen here have the power required to restrain me – then I will happily comply with any punishment deemed necessary.”

The room fell silent, for they all knew the truth in the matter of strength concerning the Superman. She continued:

“This is war, dear Councilmen and Councilwomen. It is imperative that we are not to be bogged down by red tape.”

“War?” Sleet glanced about, confused, “What war?”

To which, Weiss cleared her throat, and announced as loud as she could:

“My first act as the acting Chancellor of Atlas – I declare war on the God King Ozymandias!”

The room fell silent, only to be filled with the anxious sound of the cameras flashing and the reporters whispering amongst themselves, as the Councilmen alongside the king leaned forward out of their seats – with their eyeballs practically popping out of their heads and rolling on the floor.

Still not yet done.

“I hope you understand the implication of this – Theodore,” she said firmly. “You will be a bystander in this war. But if you were to ever aid the God King in any way, know that we will have no choice but to consider you an enemy of the Empire. Good day to you.”

“Now listen here, punk! I have some very strongly worded thoughts that need to be made known,” Theodore pointed his finger furiously. “If you think you can just tell me what to do you goddamn self-righteous alien, you have another thing…”

“This conversation is over,” Weiss cut him off, swiping the holographic screen to the side to turn off the big screen. Even from here, Weiss could still hear the king’s screaming from across the continents.

“You have a lot of nerve,” said Sleet, “to do what you just did.”

“We’re not done here.”

“Excuse me?”

“Just because you are willing to ignore the destruction the God King and his forces have committed on our streets and on our people, doesn’t mean that I am. There is a standard of truth and justice that we Atlesians must uphold for the good name of the Empire. I am of course talking about the matter concerning the young man Adam Belladonna, who was involved in the God King’s attack down the streets not too long ago.”

“I don’t understand,” said Sleet.

“Then I’ll make it brief and simple for everybody here,” she explained. “During the incident, an unidentified woman has been left on the scene lying next to Adam’s body, seemingly conjured out of thin air. The test results for this woman’s DNA and identity have come back, verified by my own examinations as well. The fact of the matter is simply this – that woman IS Adam Belladonna.”

“Impossible.”

“How…”

“What?”

“As hard to believe as it is,” Weiss continued. “It is the truth. This unidentified woman shares the exact same DNA chains as Adam Belladonna. It’s not that they share some of their DNA, it is that they share ALL of them. It seems scientifically impossible, but Ozymandias’ magick has never been straightforward. Since they are the exact same person, the Atlesian Court cannot, and will not – by the authority of the acting Chancellor – execute an innocent woman who has done nothing wrong. It is therefore within my rights that I hereby declare this woman and Adam Belladonna to be pardoned of their crimes in the name of Atlesian justice.”

“ARE YOU INSANE?”

“This decision is final, and will not be undone. Adam Belladonna and the unidentified woman will be moved to a facility within Beacon Academy to be supervised by me, your Envoy and acting Chancellor, alongside the entirety of the Academy’s faculty members. This meeting is adjourned.”

Weiss would proceed to float out of the door in the midst of the chaotic roaring Council chamber flooded with flashing lights, cameras, and reporters pouring in from every direction. Ignoring this chaos, Weiss was able to peculiarly pick up a familiar voice at the end of the hallway, which she found odd because she recognized that voice as belonging to Maru’s protégé, Ghost Vester.

“Things are getting interesting,” Ghost whispered to the rest of his team.

Weiss didn’t even have time to wonder what he meant by that when shortly after, she was confronted by the undeniable vision of Rubio’s image projection – standing there at the end of the hallway behind the sea of people, tapping his foot as he crossed his arms, glaring straight at Weiss.

Chapter Text

The unidentified woman sat up from her hospital bed, rubbing her eyes as the light from the window penetrated through, fiercely tickling these new senses. It felt as if she was waking from the longest nap of her life, but it was impossible for her to remember anything that happened before she fell into this slumber, no matter how hard she tried.

She began glancing about, looking up and down the empty hospital room, trying to gather her bearings and perhaps deduce what had happened. But nothing about this plain-looking facility gave her anything useful to work with, not a single hint or clue. Perhaps she was still dreaming, she thought to herself, and maybe if she went back to sleep she would then later wake back up to something that made a lot more sense.

Time for speculation ran out, however, the moment the door swung open to have a lanky gentleman in a stylish dark suit walk in. The man smiled at the young girl just as he began twirling his mustache.

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” He took out a notepad from his breast pocket, simultaneously grabbing a chair to sit on. “I’ll get right to the point, my name is Arthur Watts. I’m a professor at Beacon Academy, and I have a few questions for you if you don’t mind me asking.”

The woman sat there, not reacting to a single thing he just said. Instead, she just continued to look onward, all around, then back down to her limbs and hands, still trying to figure out her surroundings.

“I understand it may seem confusing. But believe me when I say that I am here to help. The circumstance surrounding how you got here is… bizarre to say the least. So if you cooperate, I promise you we will get to the bottom of this.”

The woman glanced at the man, still a bit hesitant as she pulled on her blanket. But ultimately decided to nod her head.

“Wonderful. Now, do you know what your name is?”

She paused for a moment, in deep contemplation. Yet her radiant yellow eyes never once blinked during the duration, something Watts noticed and became instantly fascinated by. After a good long few minutes of silence, the woman finally spoke:

“Blake… it’s… Blake.”

“Is that a name you remember? Or…”

“I don’t know,” she shook her head. “It just felt… right.”

“Interesting.” Watts scribbled down his notepad. “Do you remember anything else?”

Once again, she paused for a similar amount of time, before finally speaking in a quiet soft tone:

“No. Everything is a blur. I remember… parents. My parents, or… I don’t know if they’re really my parents. Something feels off about it. But I think they’re called… Belladonna. They live on an island in the far South. I think I also have a sister. Her name is… escaping me.”

“Anything else?”

“Maybe… there is another woman. I think… she’s called Raven. I’m not entirely sure who she is. Besides that, there might be more, but it’s not coming to me right now. Maybe if I have more time…”

“I understand,” said Watts, before leaning forward, becoming gloomier as his expression focused forth. “Final question. Tell me – does the word Edenite mean anything to you?”

Her eyebrows began to grimace, which Watts had trouble deciphering whether that meant she knew what he was talking about or if she was just trying to remember. She then proceeded to say simply:

“No.”

Watts nodded his head, closing his notepad to place it back in his pocket as he stood up.

“Thank you, Miss Blake Belladonna. We will be in touch soon. You will get the help you need, that is for certain.”

“I’m sorry, General,” Weiss sat there on a chair facing the unconscious Ironwood, lying on his hospital bed.

The damages didn’t seem too severe now that the doctors had worked their magic on him. Wrapping his head, arms, and legs. His heartbeat was steady, but Weiss could not find any sign to suggest he would be waking up any time soon. Most concerning of all was his Aura, now that he was deep in Dream his Aura could only flicker every now and again, instead of permanently coating his body. It was clear his spirit was fighting to keep his body together, but for how long before a full recovery, Weiss could not tell.

“I know you had your directive. But I can’t just sit by and do nothing. My power is a responsibility. My Pa taught me that. You, sir, taught me that. I…” Weiss sighed, leaning over to hold his hand tight in hers. “I should have been there when it happened. Maybe I could’ve stopped all this from happening. But I just… couldn’t hear your voice. I… I want to hear your voice now, sir. I can’t do this on my own.”

“And you won’t have to.”

A familiar voice whispered from behind, prompting Weiss to turn her head. There she would catch Rubio standing there leaning against the wall in his female form once more. What was noteworthy, however, was his new outfit. 

Instead of donning his old raggedy cloak that covered his bandaged body or his more feminine black frilly dress, he was now wearing what looked to be a proper black double-breasted military service coat with a banded collar and red complimentary fabric on the sleeves. Which Rubio had casually rolled up to presumably mimic his uncle’s style. There as he walked forward Weiss could see his long stylish pants alongside what looked like heavy clicking boots armed with a couple of sniper rounds. And of course, his signature red hooded cloak was still there, worn over his shoulders.

“Hello, Rubio. New look?”

“This is what my uncle wore when he was knighted. Or at least something similar anyway. I thought I’d give it a try.”

“It’s nice.”

“I’m sorry about what happened. It must be hard, shouldering all this responsibility. But… at least on the bright side, I heard you found Ozymandias. So turns out you didn’t need me after all.”

“I’m sorry you got put in our holding facilities for nothing. If I had known I wouldn’t have put you through all that.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m a tough guy,” he flexed his small lean bicep, feeling it proudly. “I can take whatever you throw at me. But enough about me, you still have that Ghost Vester guy hanging around, don’t you? Now that your three top generals are out of commission, maybe it’s about time their replacements step up to prove themselves. Not that you need to prove anything, since – you know, you’re you.”

Weiss sat there, staying silent. Which prompted Rubio to raise an eyebrow.

“You… do plan to let them help you, right?” He asked.

“Ghost Vester and his team GOLD are Maru’s disciples,” she said bluntly. “I am Ironwood’s. We serve the same army, but our methods are vastly different. They are strong enough to operate on their own terms. But my business must be my own if I’m going to be Chancellor.”

“If you can find it in you to trust me, a Valean, then you can find it in you to trust your own people.”

“Why are you bringing this up all of a sudden? You’re acting like… you’re not going to be here,” Weiss said as she turned around trying to read his expression and heartbeat.

To which Rubio responded by simply shrugging after a long sigh:

“I suppose it was only a matter of time. I might as well rip off the bandage – I am going to go find my mother Summer.”

Weiss stared at him in shock, with her hands almost shaking as she heard those words. She stood up and floated forward overpowering the lanky Rubio with her imposing shadow.

“You are going after the legendary hero of Vale, Summer Rose?”

Rubio simply shook his head:

“She is known as Summer Rose to many, but I know the truth. And the truth is my mother is the Summer Maiden. The mortal avatar of the archetypal primordial concept of Summer, the God of the Hunt and War.”

It took a second for Weiss to fully process. After which she could only blurt out:

“What? How is that possible? How do you even know that?”

He would answer by simply pointing his finger at his silver eyes:

“These future sights are proof of Summer’s gift. Ancient holy books describe stories and myths of Summer stealing Winter’s moon, lighting it with her own magical sunlight to illuminate the future.”

“That means very little in the face of Aura and Semblance. That kind of power can be replicated.”

“In function, maybe. But not in strength. You have no idea how far I can see. I spent a lot of time in my jail cell meditating, Weiss. Contemplating and reflecting on my life ever since my uncle Qrow came back from the dead. I tried looking into the future, looking in obscure places. There are limits despite its distance, I can’t see through other people’s eyes, not without touching them at least. But I did see a mountain, I’m not even sure it is on this planet. Perhaps it resides in a pocket dimension paralleling our own. The gravity there is strong, stronger than you can imagine.”

“The Legend of Mount Nephilim. The birthplace of Giants.”

“Detailed in the Holy Book of Dawn, yes. That is where I will find the Seasons. Where I will find my mother.”

“Not everything in holy books is meant to be taken literally, Rubio. Myths and legends have some truths in them, but there are things that are questionable. How do you even know that mountain is even reachable by mortals? And even if you are able to get there, then what? You said it yourself, the gravity there is stronger than anyone can know. Do you plan on getting your bones crushed?”

“That’s just something I’ll have to deal with when I get there.”

“IF you get there.”

“Regardless,” Rubio shook his head, “it’s not like I’m left with much of a choice. Now that your Empire has taken over our land and you have declared war on Ozymandias. If I stay here, it is inevitable that I will get involved, and that is not something I want. Face it, Weiss. There’s nothing left for me here on Vale.”

“Nothing left? What about your uncle?”

“He has no tie with neither Vale nor Atlas. We can always meet again.”

“And if you don’t?”

“I refuse to entertain that possibility.”

“Entertain it. Because you are not invincible. You are not me, Rubio. You are flesh and bone, you can get hurt.”

“Then I just need to not get hit. Speed of thought,” he winked.

“You are fast,” Weiss admitted, before shaking her head, “but not that fast.”

“You sure about that? How about a little wager then?”

Weiss stared on, confused.

“It’s simple – we race,” Rubio smirked, “if you can catch me, I’ll stay behind. But if I win, you get off my back about this and let me go.”

Weiss could only respond by glaring onward intently, almost exhaling into a chuckle at the mere suggestion of the notion.

“Rubio, this is me we’re talking about. You do remember who I am, don’t you? What exactly are you going to race me with? Your little future astral projection? You said it yourself, these are just projections. You can’t touch anything. Even if I humor you, what do you plan on doing if you beat me and proceed to go to that mountain? Talk to the gods? Then if you have to fight back? Are you prepared to have your soul scattered across the universe?”

“Actually… that’s another thing I want to tell you. I told you I’ve been meditating. Staying inside my cell, thinking about what I will do. And – thing’s changed now.”

“What do you mean?”

From behind his red cloak, he pulled forth his sniper rifle which quickly morphed into his signature scythe, one that was so reminiscent of his uncle’s own weapon. What Weiss could not understand, however, was why he was pointing the rifle at her.

“My Semblance has evolved – I can do this now.”

Cocking the rifle, Rubio proceeded to blast Weiss with an enormous anti-tank round, instantly exploding a hole in the wall of the hospital room. Using the recoil from the rifle, Rubio would then use this new momentum to dash forward outside through the hole at a speed Weiss had never seen anybody but herself reach before.

Approaching Planck time itself.

The race was on.

Tossing the sniper bullet aside, Weiss would ready herself. From the bottom of her feet came a glowing white glyph that emerged from her fierce Aura emanating from within. The ground beneath her began to quake even without her feet touching the floor. Rupturing the floor tiles, her eyes would steel the moment she took off flying out the hole after Rubio, chasing the man down.

Zipping through the air at a speed faster than light, several thoughts began popping up in her mind. Many of them were questions, others were deductions on how exactly Rubio’s Semblance really worked. Because at the end of the day, his Semblance was by far the most bizarre supernatural ability Weiss had ever seen in her life by a wide margin. Perhaps even surpassing the strange things the God King was capable of doing.

Was Rubio now capable of making his image projections tangible? Were these things clones?

No. Weiss told herself, because Rubio was adamant that this was a race, and that he was going to Mount Nephilim on his own, instead of just staying behind inside his jail cell. That only left her with the terrifying conclusion that Rubio was now capable of pulling himself physically from where he originally was all the way to where his image projection was flying toward. In other words, he could now time travel into the future.

In essence, he could basically move as fast as he wished. All he had to do was simply project his image a few seconds into the future, then instantly make himself tangible to where that projection was. The smaller the gap in time, the faster he will move.

Truly as he had boasted – speed of thought.

A thousand more questions popped up, but now that she had reached where Rubio was flying toward, all she could focus on then at the moment was straight ahead. Where Rubio stood on top of a Forever Fall rock, admiring his massive scythe.

“So what do you think?” Rubio laughed. “Pretty nifty don’t you think? The Forever Fall is so beautiful. I can never get tired looking at it.”

“How are you flying through the air like that? Don’t you have to have someone to project your image to?”

“Lots of birds in the sky, my friend,” he winked. “You’d be amazed by how many of them there are. Even subatomic bacteria are usable. It does make my eyes a bit dizzy, reacting to things at such high speed. But I’ll get used to it.”

“You really want to go through with this? You plan on fighting gods?”

“That’s the plan, ha! If I can beat you in this race, that will be proof enough.”

Without another word, Rubio dashed off again, leaving Weiss behind. Scanning across the surface of the planet, through the crust and curvature of the earth, she could quickly spot where Rubio was heading in the far distance. This time in the far corner of the western desert – the Kingdom of Vacuo.

With her white glyph glowing at the bottom of her feet once more, Weiss launched herself through the air, scorching the atmosphere itself with just her mere speed alone as she left behind traces of ice and light – empowering her own body to an exponential degree. The explosion from her sonic boom was deafening, as if a volcano had just erupted.

That sound would, however, be overtaken by the roar in the distance. A powerful thunderous howl from a beast of disaster status Kaiju. There on top of a tall sandy mound stood a gigantic desert wolf Grimm, baring its fangs just as the tiny Rubio was approaching from the ground up. Dashing through the air at an unfathomable speed. In a time frame so infinitesimal that the foul creature did not even get to finish blinking – Rubio had already taken out his oversized scythe to slash directly at the wolf’s jaw, taking the entire upper half of the skull clean off in one smooth motion.

The monster did not even get to scream its final agonizing moment.

“Your uncle taught you well.”

“You can thank my dearest Crescent Rose as well,” he said, kissing his scythe. “Now, shall we fly further west, milady?”

Without even letting Weiss answer, he began zipping off again, to travel forward a few attoseconds into the future. To which Weiss would follow shortly behind, determined not to let him out of her sight as the two dashed through the vast ocean separating Vacuo and Mistral, letting the salty water beneath splash upon their face.

“You can’t fight a Season, Rubio! You’re out of your depth. You are going to die.”

“I think I’ve about had it up to here with you lecturing me,” he said as he turned around in midair swinging the blade directly at Weiss, which she simply reacted by blocking it with the back of her left hand. Using that to create some forward momentum, Rubio would confidently fire another round from the rifle to ricochet himself off Weiss’ hard body thus launching himself further into the distance, increasing his speed even further.

“I don’t even know why you even bother,” Rubio said. “Why do you even care so much if I go? This is none of your business.”

“What kind of a question is that? Of course it is my business! You… you are my friend.”

“We are not friends,” he said plainly, slicing through a hoard of Grimm sharks on the surface of the ocean, using their corpses as a launching platform to bounce himself off even further into the distance.

“Rubio!”

“Face it, Ice Queen. You don’t know anything about me. Do you even know whether I’m a man or a woman?”

“Enough of your trickery, you are not Oz’s student. You don’t do tricks, I know you!”

“Evidently not. How do you know for sure that this female form isn’t my original form? Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I’ve just been showing you a version of myself that I wanted you to see? Be thankful my magick isn’t being used to aid Ozymandias. With the power of our illusions combined – you will lose. You can consider me leaving an act of mercy.”

“This is absurd. Stop this foolish mission before you do something you’ll regret!” She shouted, bolting from the sky down to where Rubio was flying, trying to catch him by the throat. It would ultimately be in vain the moment Rubio used his Semblance once more to zip himself far in the distance elsewhere, another few attoseconds into the future.

Weiss scanned around – this time spotting him going north. Into the frozen kingdom of Atlas.

Speeding through the air, rupturing the atmosphere, Weiss was becoming more annoyed as the seconds went by. Never in her life had anybody been able to compete against any of her powers. To force her to use her Semblance at all and take things a little seriously was a mark of Rubio’s hidden abilities. He was already dangerous enough before when he could only project images and see into the future. But this – this was something completely different.

To think, Oz had possessed such a power in his court all this time, right under his nose. Weiss shuddered to think what he could’ve accomplished if he had Rubio’s loyalty.

Perhaps the Kingdom of Vale wouldn’t have fallen at all five years ago.

“You’re still holding back,” Rubio shouted, dashing about all over the surface of the airships and the towers of Atlas. “I know you can go faster. How many times have we circled the planet so far?”

“3,879,653 times.”

“That is nothing,” Rubio scoffed. “To the limit now!”

“If I go any faster I may break the planet.”

“It’s time you live a little, Ice Queen. You’re the only one I want to race.”

“This is utterly pointless. You can see the future – you should already know the outcome of this battle.”

“Doesn’t work like that I’m afraid. Not against someone like you who exudes so much gravity that it literally bends the flow of time, space – Destiny. My future vision has always been in flux when it concerns you. That’s what makes it so exciting!”

“Is this a game to you, Rubio? This is serious business. People’s lives are at stake!”

“Your people. Or the Valeans, the Vacuans, the Mistralians. You all can fight each other until the end of days for all I care. I told you – I have NOTHING left on Remnant. Nothing tying me to this world.”

“You… still have me.”

Not looking back behind him, Rubio would pull down his hood as he launched himself forward once more. In his hand wielding the bloody Crescent Rose as his red cloak fluttered in the wind. Bloodied by black Grimm essence as both Rubio and Weiss zipped through mountains, oceans, rivers, and forests destroying any monster they found in their paths, simultaneously with Rubio striking at Weiss with everything he had. Brandishing this silver blade while twirling gracefully in the air like a beautiful spinning rose, slicing her at every angle.

No hits were strong enough to pierce Weiss’ skin, but they were getting stronger by the second. Strong enough to force Weiss to continuously get more serious, emanating stronger gravitational fields with her Aura powering up, quaking the very ground itself.

Back to the heart of the Valley. There as the two of them approached the igniting Valean soil in the distance, they could feel massive tremors rocking the crust of the planet back and forth, creating massive waves in the middle of the ocean in the process. Beneath the boiling earth of the Valley – Weiss began to hear the sound of something she thought was impossible.

The sound of a heartbeat. The heart of the Valley – a Summer war drum.

“This is… no… how?”

“You know of the legend, yes?” Rubio asked. “If Summer’s heart were to ever stop beating – this country will fall. You can hear it, too. I can tell from that look on your face. My mother is alive, thus the Valley lives on.”

“Rubio…” she paused for a good long while, as the two continued to dash around the planet. “I… I cannot do this without you. You – you are my friend. And I know you feel the same. Your heartbeat does not lie.”

“Well, can’t blame a guy for trying to hide,” he chuckled, slicing a Beowolf in half. “It would’ve been a lot easier to say goodbye if I had managed to convince you.”

“Convince me, or convince yourself?”

“Ha, I will never forget you, Weiss Schnee. And I promise you – as long as Summer’s heart still beats, my heart shall as well. I WILL come back home. For the sake of my uncle… and for you.”

“There’s really nothing I can do to change your mind?”

“I’ll still keep my word. The wager is still on. If you catch me, I’ll concede. So how about it, Ice Queen? One final lap? First one to step foot back on the Forever Fall wins.”

No more words, no more holding back. Mustering everything he had left, Rubio would now channel his Semblance for his ultimate move. Instantly teleporting into the distant lands far beyond the horizon. Weiss floated there, shaking her head in somber sadness. She would then clutch tight her fists to prepare for a speed she had never had to reach before in her life.

The glyph at the bottom of her feet glowed like a star made of diamonds, sparkling like snow. And within the next imperceptible timeframe – she would launch herself forward, rupturing a nearby mountain from the shockwaves of her speed alone.

Stretching her arms forward in this flying pose, her military cape would drift along so violently in the middle of this cold slicing air in a way Weiss had never felt before. Flying at this speed so intense the sky began to boil from the heat, cutting violently against her invincible skin. It did not hurt, of course, but there was a concern at the back of her head. One that had never existed before because the fact of the matter was – she had never felt physical pain in her entire life.

And yet, Rubio was the only one on the planet so far who had prompted Weiss to think about such a concept, something that was so foreign to her before this moment.

If an invincible girl such as herself could think about the notion of getting hurt, then what about a mortal like Rubio? Of course, she was still worried about her friend. Nobody had ever been to this mythical mountain. He will surely meet monsters and foes that will be beyond anything that could feasibly exist on this mortal plain.

And yet…

Thinking back to what Rubio had said about her trust in him, a Valean – a friend.

And thus, at the very entrance to the Forever Fall, Weiss would arrive, only to then immediately stop dead in her path just short of the grassy field before her. She stayed there for what felt like an eternity, and yet she knew well that from the point of view of the ordinary, there may as well have been no gap in time at all.

Because only a mere two microseconds later, Weiss would feel the flutter of Rubio’s red cloak rushing past her. Darting straight forth into the far distant horizon so far and so fast Weiss could no longer see him even with her enhanced super vision.

Or perhaps, it was more accurate to say that she did not wish to see him. For she knew deep down – this was their farewells. So the only thing for her to do now was face the setting sun and salute him as she readjusted her red tie and service cap.

The race was over – and this was the result.

Chapter Text

In a farmland far, far away…

Red pulled the rake over into the shed, tossing it inside where the other tools resided. Only to then suddenly hear the sound of the wind exploding behind her just as she was closing the door. Smiling beneath her red hair, she instantly recognized who this was.

“You’re back,” she turned around.

But Weiss did not respond. She only hovered there, her feet a few inches above the ground, crossing her arms as she looked down.

“Crazy week I assume,” Red smiled.

“You could say that.”

“You didn’t even hesitate, oh great Grand Chancellor.”

“Acting Chancellor,” Weiss corrected. “Our country is in danger, we would’ve been a headless snake of a state if I didn’t step up.”

“Funny way to describe your Empire,” Red winked. To which Weiss clenched her fist, only now realizing what she just said.

“I will do what needs to be done,” Weiss affirmed, turning to the sun. “I will not let anyone stop me. Not Ozymandias – not even you.”

“You’re right, I won’t stop you. I’m not even sure I can. My time has passed. But you’ll do well to remember what my legacy is. Because you are a part of it, whether you like it or not. The Sand has changed, so those who carry the title will no longer suffer as we once did. You do what you think is right, but be warned – it has to be right.”

Weiss turned back to Red once more, now a little more somber as she tried to scan Red’s features looking for something familiar. Weiss would then proceed to ask:

“Is – Rubio a part of this legacy? Whatever it is?”

Red paused for a long minute, before picking back up the sickle in her shed as she answered:

“There are traces of that legacy in all things, all things good anyway. How much of it will vary case by case. What I do know is that the legacy in you is purer than most. You’d be wise to keep it that way.”

Spending the last of his teaching hours cleaning up and sweeping the floor of the training gym was a tranquil feeling that Qrow thoroughly enjoyed now that he had a second chance at life. He thought back to the moments in his past, for it was a story drenched in the blood of war. All his life, honing and perfecting his combat prowess. To now have moments where he could relax in the mundane chores of ordinary life was a blessing he planned on savoring to the very last second.

The moment of peace would, unfortunately, be interrupted by an approaching figure emerging from the entrance of the gym. Just my luck, he thought to himself. But it was rather fitting given his Semblance.

“Qrow…” the blonde walked forth. “Uncle Qrow, Sir.”

That simple phrase instantly caught his attention, forcing him to turn his head and drop the broom he was holding. There standing before him was none other than his niece Yang Xiao Long.

Qrow had not seen his niece in years, not since the Empire marched south to take the Valley. He remembered that day with some difficulty, but what stuck out in his mind was Yang storming out, leaving the family to journey out and find his bastard of a sister the Pirate God Raven Branwen. That decision alone had forever tarnished his feelings toward Yang, something he himself was unsure if he had recovered even to this day.

Because leaving him, her mother and father was one thing. That, he could theoretically forgive. But to leave Rubio as well, to say the hurtful things she said that day while the country fell – that was something that bothered his Dreams every night since. Qrow had once wished to have a second chance with his sister, because he pitied Raven. But for Yang, who was young and stronger, even if he had his second chance he would not be entirely sure of what to do with it. With Raven, he knew exactly what he wanted to say. The same was not necessarily true with his niece.

“We need to talk,” Yang crossed her arms.

To that, Qrow simply stared on, not saying a word. Annoyed, Yang continued:

“When did you tell her? Rubio.”

Qrow spun his head around, shaking it.

“I didn’t need to tell him anything. He was bound to figure it out eventually. We have plenty of scientists and theologians theorizing the link between King Oz’s own future visions with those old myths. Because all future visions are emanations of Summer.”

“And when exactly were you planning on telling me, Sir?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“You knew all this time, didn’t you? That Rubio’s mother is the Summer Maiden, and that she is still alive!”

“And how exactly do you expect me to contact you after you left the family like that? By pigeons? You tell me!”

Yang clenched her fists at the remark. Which Qrow noticed right away, but still chose to ignore. Qrow continued:

“I had a hunch. Only a gut feeling. It wasn’t anything concrete. Summer isn’t exactly the most… open person. It’s possible she may have told your father about it, but we can’t really know for sure. May his soul rest in peace.”

“Where is Rubio now?”

Qrow shook his head:

“Where else? He’s gone after Summer. To Mount Nephilim, wherever that is.”

“And you didn’t even think to stop her,” she crossed her arms.

“Stop him how? Do you have any idea how fast he is?”

Qrow pulled out his scroll from his pocket, which he showed to Yang the recent news broadcast that was streamed approximately one hour ago. The news reported strange natural disasters and occurrences all over the planet as the constant sound of sonic booms exploded in the air, igniting the sky into a bizarre reddish hue that nobody could really figure out an explanation for.

“The news people may not have recognized him,” said Qrow, “but that is Ruby. No mistake about it. I’ve always known he was fast. But he told me his Semblance has gotten stronger. This… this is something else.”

“What exactly was she doing flying across the planet? Shouldn’t she have found the mountain by now if she’s so fast?”

Qrow shook his head:

“The mountain is not on Remnant. He told me it may be in a parallel dimension, and that it will take months, maybe even years before he finds the foot of the mountain. No… he wasn’t looking for anything when he was zipping around like that. He was racing.”

“What? Against who?”

Qrow pulled up his scroll again, zooming into one of the photographs taken on the news. There up in the sky behind what looked like a red blur was another that followed shortly after – one colored white.

“Who is the only other person on Remnant who could move at that speed?” Said Qrow.

Glancing down at the white blur on the screen, Yang would quickly turn away clenching her fists. Hiding the veins rising on her face away from her uncle. But Qrow’s eyes were sharp, so spotting such a tiny detail was not a big deal for him.

“You’re getting pretty chummy with Atlas lately,” she said. “Especially with – her.”

Qrow stayed silent. Yang continued:

“I saw you, when I was tracking down Raven. You were on the field with that flying – thing, working with them. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You were chummy with your old pal Ironwood, too. Why are you even here? Serving them of all people. What did they offer you? Money? Fame? Is that all it takes for you to betray your blood, your country, your family?”

“Don’t talk to me like you know anything about family, not after following in Raven’s footsteps. You…” Qrow snapped, pointing his finger, before he restrained himself from doing or saying something he’ll regret. Scratching the back of his head, he would sigh as he looked down in somber sadness:

“How did we get here? Where did it all go wrong? Yang… please, come back home. You can’t fight a Superman. I know you’re trying to uphold my sister’s name by taking revenge. But Raven is not your mother. She may have given birth to you, but she just… isn’t. Stop trying to win her back. I know you’re angry, but you need to let her go – and come home.”

Yang only responded by turning her back, walking away to the exit. But not before she left him these final words:

“Look around you, Sir. I don’t have a home to come back to. We don’t have a home to come back to. You’re the one who needs to face the truth. Rubio – Ruby… would be better off without me. She has to live, and I don’t want her to carry my baggage. I will do what needs to be done, and I will not let anyone stop me – not even you. Goodbye, Qrow.”

“Good work today, Belladonna,” Professor Yallo told Ilia. “Remember to lock the doors when you finish.”

“Yes, ma’am. I won’t be long. Just gotta finish these papers.”

“Good girl. Sleep well on the weekend. We’ll take your first case next week.”

The blonde professor tied her long coat around her waist as she walked over to the elevator, leaving Ilia behind in the quiet empty police department’s office floor.

Only a mere few years ago this department was a part of Beacon Academy itself, being a place to host labs, records, and other infrastructures for students and teachers. With the recent years of the underground rebellion still persisting within the borders of the Valley, the Empire instead decided to transform the entire place into a police department and training facility. Essentially an academy with the sole goal of training young prospects into becoming a part of the police force or private investigators to aid in domestic purposes.

After the train incident in the Forever Falls – Ilia, too, would become one of these youngsters in training. And she was damn good at her job. Which wasn’t exactly surprising considering her previous experiences and training. Here in this office, she would be taught more about the system and the paperwork that came with it rather than the physical labor she was used to in her previous life.

There was a certain tranquil feeling to it that calmed her nerves. She was still very much distrusting of most of her colleagues despite their candid exchanges.

Part of the reason was that she was a Faunus, and a former member of a rebellious organization. Some would even label them as terrorists. Not directly to her face, of course. But she overheard them nonetheless.

But the other reason for her caution had to do with something else entirely. An inevitability that lived rent-free inside her head, haunting her Dreams like that of a taunting trickster. She heard the news the other day, of course, so she knew well.

It was only a matter of time before he showed up before her.

She expected to see him walk out of the elevator in the front, right the way Professor Yallo left. She kept waiting, and waiting. But the waiting finally turned into a sinking feeling of desperation the moment she heard the clicking of his heavy boots approaching behind startling her.

She should’ve known. The White Fang were men and women of the shadows, entering through the front door would not have been their style.

“Hello… Ilia,” Adam whispered from the darkness behind.

The girl turned around ever so slowly as she prepared her expression to face the man she called brother. The only problem was she wasn’t exactly sure what kind of feeling she should bring forth now that they were face to face.

What made things even more confusing was that Adam didn’t even seem to be angry at all. He only stood there in silence, waiting for Ilia to respond.

After an eternity of silence of neither budging, Ilia would slowly but surely step forth to say at last:

“I saw the news. I knew we’d run into each other eventually. I…”

“How are you these days? Are you eating well?”

“What?”

“You’re studying I assume,” Adam looked over to her desk. “I never would’ve guessed. Police academy, huh?”

“Um… private eye.”

“Hmm,” he nodded his head.

“Listen… Adam – about what happened. I want you to know… no, I need you to know – these are the feelings I’ve had in me for a long time. What happened didn’t just come out of the blue. I thought about it, and I planned it. You were never supposed to get hurt, you were just supposed to get a light sentence and then sent back to mom and dad. But you just… you just… all those people on that train…”

“Ilia, stop,” Adam raised his hand. “Please – just stop.”

Ilia clenched her fists, shaking as a mixture of different confused emotions took over her body. Adam proceeded to shake his head:

“I am not mad. This is what you need to understand.”

Ilia stared on in shock. Adam continued:

“Don’t waste your breath trying to explain. Your actions spoke louder than any word ever could. What happened is in the past, there is no undo button. What you did was your decision, it is what it is. There is only one thing I want to ask you.”

“And that is?”

From his mouth uttered a single word:

“Why?”

Thinking back to all the things that had happened, and in Ilia’s mind, it felt as if it was a lifetime ago that the train running alongside the Forever Falls that day was cut in half like a fish. The world around them was moving forward so fast, especially with speed demons roaming the sky. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t at all that long ago when Ilia stood by watching her brother get escorted away by Atlesian authorities. But she stayed awake under every moon since then, contemplating in every dark moment of the night.

And after all that time – she would definitively decide on her answer to that question:

“I want to live on the surface, Adam. Not beneath the ground – I want to live. How long would we have to go on living in fear if we had continued with your rebellion? Face the fact, Adam. We-cannot-fight-a-Superman. And let’s just for one second pretend that we live in a magical pixie land where we actually can. What happens after we win? Atlas leaves the Valley then the God King goes back on his throne, crushing us under his boots and treating us like slaves. We would replace one Superman with another, nothing would change. Is that what you want, brother? To be forever at war?”

“Ilia…”

“I’m tired! Don’t you get it? I stuck around for as long as I did because you are my brother. It was never for the revolution, or for your ideals. It was for you!”

“It saddens me that you do not understand the vision we fought for, the vision our White Fang brothers and sisters fought for. Sun, Sienna, Tukson…”

“Don’t you put that on me as if I turned my back on them! How dare you? They were my friends as well, Adam. Not just tools for you to use in your plan. Their lives and youth meant something, now wasted!”

“I suppose it’s my fault. I’ve never really clearly explained these things.”

“What is there to explain?”

“Too much,” Adam shook his head. “Do you remember Eden?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Nobody remembers Eden. It’s been thousands of years.”

“I remember Eden,” his expression suddenly turned serious, gloomier than before.

To which Ilia could only ask out of confusion:

“You mean you saw it in a dream or something?”

“No,” he insisted. “I remember Eden – from thousands of years ago.”

“WHAT? That doesn’t make any sense. How do you even know that’s a memory?”

Adam pulled back the sleeve on his forearm to show Ilia the veins under his skin. They raged on beneath so furiously.

“My blood boils when I remember Eden,” he explained. “And I’m not speaking metaphorically. These here will literally boil. This has never happened before when I sleep and Dream of a better tomorrow. What I saw wasn’t Dream. What I saw was Destiny. The Valeans believe their bloodlines are sacred and magical. But who’s to say that doesn’t apply to other races as well? The only exception to that rule so far are the Atlesians. Maybe they lost that Old World connection long ago, giving up the Lost Virtues, I’m not entirely sure myself.”

“What are you saying?”

“My point is that Valeans, Mistralians, humans, Faunus, even Atlesians, it doesn’t matter. Every mortal on this planet was once an Edenite. Slowly, little by little the humans began to drift away from Old World’s Lost Virtues. But not us Faunus – we stayed on our path. The path passed down by our forefathers to the sacred soil below. So I plan to take back our ancestral lands. The God King is obsessed with the future. Scientists are obsessed with the future. Theologians, philosophers, ordinary men – they ALL want to know tomorrow. But we are Edenites – we have already achieved perfection. So the real answer lies in the past, not the future. We Faunus are closer to Eden than any modern human could hope to achieve. And we have to embrace our superiority.”

“The Superman isn’t a Faunus,” she countered. “She is human.”

“We don’t know what that thing is. And there is a real chance she could actually be part Edenite.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ilia furiously opened her cabinet, pulling out a file buried in the back to slam it on her table. “I’ll have you know I didn’t become a detective just for the fun of it. It’s what I’m good at and what I want to be, sure. But the more we know about the Superman the better.”

“Your point?”

“There are no files on the Superman herself, but there are some info on her parents – Willow Schnee and Pietro Polendina. You know what they had filled out in the species section?”

Adam leaned over, taking the pieces of paper out of the folder to see two half-filled pages with missing information all over the place. Only to catch the one detail Ilia told him about, right under their names, date of birth, and nationality was that single word – human.

“Where did you get this?” Adam asked.

“Office of records, locked behind a safe inside a vault at the bottom of the ocean with the keys thrown away.”

“Really?”

“No, but security really was tight. It’s clear they didn’t want anybody to see these files. There’s probably a completed version somewhere out there. But do you understand now? Your obsession with this idea of revolution and myth is going nowhere. It’s just going to get you killed.”

“This doesn’t prove anything. Atlesian science cannot be underestimated. That kind of power is what allows them to compete with the magick of the Valley. We know who her parents are, but we still do not know what the Superman is. Tell me, what happens if tomorrow we find out Atlesian scientists have been growing a person out of a bottle, inside a lab? The power she exerts… there’s nothing like it in existence. But even so, being a Faunus is more than just possessing animalistic features, and that goes doubly true for the people of Eden.”

Ilia would stare, still obviously confused. To which Adam would take a decisive step forward as he reached out his hand, placing it on Ilia’s shoulder. He hunched over, shaking his head in somber sadness.

“We can go back and forth all day, I doubt you’ll change your mind. But I meant what I said,” he told her, “I am not mad. I’m just… sad that you won’t be by my side. Tell mom and dad that I’ll be okay. Look after them for me, yeah? And remember to eat well, don’t stay up too late burying yourself in your work.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

Adam looked up at her, smiling:

“Because I doubt our paths will cross from this point on. Or rather, our interests… our convictions. If this is the path you want then I want you to live. You are and will always be my sister. It’s just a shame – that you don’t share my blood. Maybe you would’ve understood.”

“Your second lesson for today, Jaune,” Weiss floated from above, tossing her rapier down to the ground. And the moment it made contact – the ground beneath Jaune’s feet shook in a way that had him fearing for his life.

Upon closer inspection, he could now see a black glyph spinning at the point of impact. From this sight, he deduced that Weiss was holding back the true weight of this monstrous blade with her Semblance. Which was simply mindboggling for Jaune, now having him wonder how much that thing actually weighed.

Weiss would then explain:

“This is my Myrtenaster. I want you to lift this out of the stone.”

Jaune stood there on the ground, staring up at Weiss as his brain slowly picked itself up trying to understand if he had heard right the words that came out of her mouth. The woman floated there crossing her arms with an intense expression on her face, with her eyes hardening into a powerful scowl, not blinking even once.

“I… I don’t understand.”

“Things have changed now that we are at war,” said Weiss. “Ozymandias must be stopped, and he cannot be underestimated. We will need every able-bodied man and woman available to oppose his forces, and that includes you. So I’m speeding up your training.”

“But… this is a bit much, don’t you think? I felt the ground cracking the moment it landed. How much does it even weigh?”

“Three hundred trillion pounds.”

“WHAT?” Jaune’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “That’s as much as an entire mountain. How on earth did you manage to even make this sword? By Winter, it must be so dense.”

“That is not relevant to the current task at hand. You asked me to train you in the ways of Aura, and this will be what is required of you.”

“Yeah… but can anyone in this world even lift this sword beside you?”

“No.”

“Then this is an impossible task?”

“Yes.”

“Then how am I supposed to do this if it’s impossible?”

“I’ve already told you about the spiritual side of Aura. Utilizing your body, mind, and soul to their fullest potential is part of Aura mastery. To ponder the impossible questions and attempt things that cannot be done, things that don’t exist. That is what it takes to be a master.”

Jaune could only stand there scratching his head as he stared down the shiny silver blade to which he saw his own reflection looking back at him. Weiss continued:

“This is war. We will do what we must to win. You are a student of Beacon Academy, and Beacon is a part of Atlas. I expect you to do the right thing and give it your all in upholding the standard that is right and good.”

From the edge of the Eastern shores far beyond, Weiss would be able to pick up the sound of chatter. Voices talking about things that seemed too strange to be true. And yet, in the middle of this crowd of people would be the voice of Atlesian soldiers – and in the middle of it all was Ghost Vester and his team GOLD.

“What on earth? I have to go,” said Weiss, “we’ll pick this back up at a later date.”

And just like that, she darted straight into the sky at the speed of light. It only took a few seconds before she arrived at the peculiar scene of a growing crowd gathering around at the entrance of this naval base at the edge of the continent. The one thing that caught her attention, however, was not the hordes of Valeans and Atlesians, but instead far in the distant water, she could spot an entire armada of ships coming in from afar. There on every single one of their vessels flew the flags of the East.

The flag of the Kingdom of Mistral.

At the heart of the naval base, soldiers and marines alike began rallying. Gathering all the arms they could muster as they prepared their war machines. Hoisting up the Atlesian flags as they configured the giant cannons all placed around the base, ready to fire at the approaching fleet the moment they detected anything that seemed off far in the distance.

They were, of course, still cautious the moment they spotted far above the sky the approaching Mistralian airships, all armed with the most powerful cannons the East could produce. This prompted several lieutenants and officers on the ground level to order the inner Atlesian bases to also prepare their own airships in kind, as Weiss heard with her super hearing flying by and descending to where the soldiers were assembling.

“Report, soldier,” Weiss ordered, approaching one of the soldiers.

“Superman, I mean, Chancellor, ma’am,” he saluted, “approaching Mistralian royal fleet. They sent a message in advance to our CCT tower alerting us of their arrival.”

“When was this message sent?”

“Just ten minutes ago.”

“What kind of lunacy is this? How did none of our naval defensive systems pick up on their arrival before that message? Could it be more magick? Who’s in charge here?”

“That would be me, Chancellor.”

Turning around, Weiss would come face to face with none other than Ghost Vester himself, wearing proper military attire instead of his usual student uniform. Black shirt with a white coat and red tie, and a service cap on top. The exact getup a high-ranking officer of the force would wear. The only thing missing now would be some medals to go along with it all. With those, it may have been easy to mistake him for a Fleet Admiral himself.

Maru was never the kind to carry around many medals on his coat, however. Being a direct disciple of him, Weiss expected Ghost to be the same way.

“Salutation.”

“Rear Admiral Vester, reporting for duty,” he said as he saluted Weiss.

“You got promoted? Why wasn’t I informed of this?”

“Council’s orders, ma’am,” Ghost replied.

“Of course, Sleet. He must have done this.”

“They thought you didn’t need to be briefed, since, you know, having super hearing is definitely a boon. They also didn’t like you going behind their backs to pull a stunt like that at the press conference. So this is how they are retaliating. The rest of my team GOLD has also been promoted.”

“Well, I can’t say it’s undeserved. You and your team are the best of the best, there is no denying that. I hope we can work well together,” Weiss extended her hand for him to shake.

“Likewise,” he quickly returned the gesture, firmly taking in her grip.

“Tell me, Ghost, why is the royal fleet approaching?”

“I have a couple of hypotheses. But an armada of this size can only really mean one thing – the Queen of Mistral is coming.”

Glancing far into the distance, Weiss would use her super vision to stare through the metal of the mightiest ship Mistral had to offer. Deep inside behind locked doors and on a throne of diamond and sapphire sat a woman glowing with a holy fiery Aura. This was the law of the East – those who possessed the divinity of the Fall Maiden were said to be Destined to rule. Because those who carried with them the title of Maiden were in fact the mortal vessel for the primordial Seasons themselves.

This woman and her arrogant pose, the way she sat far above her minions below her was a trademark of none other than the infamous Cinder Falls. Her claim to the throne had been questionable, as was her status as the Fall Maiden. Even now as Weiss was scanning her Aura it was difficult to truly tell. This woman was powerful, more powerful than most. But was this power truly a result of something divine or was this woman just a charlatan?

The way Cinder’s prideful eyes would look onward gave Weiss some pause, as it almost looked as if Cinder herself was staring back at her all the way from where she sat.

Impossible.

Chapter Text

What is the definition of a peak human?

This was the question that troubled the minds of all those who had ever lived on Remnant no matter who they were and where they came from. The one question that would come back to haunt them the moment the Mistralian Herald announced the arrival of their queen.

The gate of the ship would pull up, the gears within turning as a red carpet would be rolled out for the arrival of one Cinder Falls.

But emerging from the shadow of the mighty ship – something bizarre was unfolding before everyone. And Weiss was the first to notice with her enhanced super vision.

The woman wore with her a dark red double-breasted suit with a banded collar that was very reminiscent of Rubio’s own style, if it wasn’t for the fact that her suit also had ridiculously long and oversized sleeves stretching all the way to her knees, making it look as if she was carrying around two giant church bells that just draped over her hands.

What was more was that her coat was more of a dress than an actual military uniform, with a tail trailing behind almost forming into a large silky skirt of some kind. The woman would stride forth with utmost confidence despite the ridiculous look, taking every powerful step on her tall black heels.

But the thing that seemed strange, one that Weiss couldn’t seem to rationalize was the fact that from afar, it almost looked as if Cinder was just two feet tall. And yet, from the murky shadows Weiss would hear her quiet cackle as she continued walking out into the light, and curiously growing taller with every step – until she stepped outside into the sun, under the sound of the trumpets and the Herald’s booming voice, Cinder Falls would look like any ordinary human woman.

Who exactly was this woman? Was she really the Fall Maiden? How could someone so ludicrous be the divine leader of an entire country?

All of these questions continued to circle Weiss’ mind even as Cinder approached forth and took a customary bow in front of the mighty floating Chancellor.

“Greetings – O Great Grand Chancellor,” Cinder winked, sparkling her brilliant amber eyes.

“Queen Cinder… we of Atlas welcome you to the Valley. But what brings you here to our shores on such short notice?”

“Apologies, O High Chancellor,” she saluted, but seemingly in a mocking way, it was too subtle for most to pick up, however. Weiss was the exception. Cinder continued:

“The announcement at the press conference has made the news all across the globe. Simply astonishing I must say. From one conqueror to another, I came here before you today to offer aid, in order to strengthen our alliance between the two kingdoms.”

“Hmm…” Weiss glared down at Cinder’s smug face, annoyed at the mention of being a conqueror. But she tried to pay it no mind. “It’s true that Mistral has been historically a strong ally of the North.”

“Oh, but of course, the Mistral monarchs are men and women of divine power. We respect true strength, the strength to do things that ordinary mortal men will not dare. I myself have an eye for greatness when I see it. You madam, O High Chancellor, are one such example. One I simply must sail the sea to see for myself.”

“And yet, you have also been historically an isolation country. It’s curious really… why you decided to show yourself at this point in time.”

“Merely a matter of self-preservation, I assure you,” Cinder smiled.

“Well, since you arrived at such short notice, we didn’t have time to prepare campsites for your men and other abodes and accommodations.”

“Oh, please, that won’t be necessary at all. That’s why I’ve prepared my warships and royal vessels. As a show of goodwill – I, Queen of Mistral, hereby announce to not set up bases on Atlesian soil here in the Valley. We will solely occupy these Eastern shores and nothing else. Assuming that you approve that is.”

“Hmm…” Weiss tried to scan Cinder’s assertive features to absolutely no avail, almost as if it was impossible to discern Cinder’s true emotions and motivation behind this ‘mask’ she was wearing. And yes, Weiss was confident in believing that what Cinder was doing was putting up a performance.

Why exactly she was doing that was something Weiss was still trying to decipher.

“There is also the matter of… ahem,” Cinder cleared her throat, “the Faunus boy.”

“What?”

“Adam Belladonna I believe is his name. I am simply curious, is all, about his current condition, alongside that young beautiful maiden who shares his DNA. Truly astounding, isn’t it? The magick of Maidens – a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to observe up close.”

And there, Weiss instantly picked up in her gut feeling a hint of Cinder’s true intention. The moment Weiss realized this she would begin to power up her Aura to exert the overwhelming gravity of the Superman for all to see. The ground shook violently at just a fraction of their Chancellor’s power, with the concrete beneath cracking ever so easily as if they were made of nothing but glass.

But the peculiar thing was – Cinder would not be deterred by this sight. Instead, she looked as if she was excited. And it all became clear the moment she also followed suit and powered up her own Aura to face off against the Atlesian Superman. From the bottom of her heels were the smoldering fire of the Mistral Queen, cracking the stony ground with the sheer force of her blazing gravitational field. This fact was known across all the lands far and wide, as the people knew the power of the flames was Cinder’s Semblance.

What was important to understand, however, was the fact that fire was not a gift from the Fall Maiden. The power of Autumn was that of the wind furiously blowing in the sky. This was the true reason why Cinder’s claim to the throne had been questioned after all this time, because nobody really knew if she really was the Fall Maiden. She possessed a superhuman level of Aura, one that could be classified as godly. But if that was truly the case then why did she never show the divine power of the wind? Was that a conscious choice?

Regardless of the case, none of it really mattered in the face of Cinder’s arrogance. One that would allow her the confidence to hover above the ground as she boosted herself up with that fierce raging flame beneath her feet, rising off the soil far below to match Weiss’ level.

“Show me the power of the Winter Maiden,” Cinder whispered. “I heard the legend myself, so I really want to see it in person. Tell me that it’s true, come on. O great and powerful Chancellor.”

Weiss was standing in front of an Eastern Monarch, but the only emotion she could really feel toward the Queen at this moment was total disgust. She wasn’t exactly concerned that Cinder could somehow be a match to her strength, because Weiss knew that was impossible.

What she found more disturbing was the fact that Cinder would even dare to entertain the possibility of opposing her at all. Which made Weiss wonder if she had a secret weapon of some kind that could make up for the huge gap in raw power between the two of them.

Or perhaps, Weiss needed to consider the possibility that the power of Maiden divinity was one of the few things on the entirety of Remnant that could be a match against a Superman.

“You will stay here on these shores,” Weiss ordered. “Do not misuse the Empire’s hospitality.”

“Oh, but of course. As you wish – Miss Schnee.”

“Heyo, Jaune, what’s going on bro?”

“Cardin? What are you doing here?”

“I could be asking you the same thing,” Cardin pulled him on his feet into a quick embrace.

“What are you doing here sitting like a duck?” Elm approached from behind.

“Elm, Ren, you’re here, too?” Said Jaune.

“Hey, Jaune,” Ren stepped up, pointing his finger at the sword on the ground, “is that what I think it is?”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah… that’s… Myrtenaster, Weiss’ sword,” Jaune sighed.

“People have been speculating for a long time,” said Ren. “How much does it actually weigh?”

“Um… you don’t want to know the answer to that,” Jaune laughed.

“We’ll find out soon enough,” Cardin pulled back his sleeves before spitting on his hands.

“Gross,” the other three collectively groaned.

“Alright, stand back folks, and watch the miracle worker um… work with his almighty Semblance of super strength, ha-ha.”

“Cardin, you’re going to tear your tendons,” said Ren. “You’ve already embarrassed yourself once. Do you really want to do this again?”

“Listen to your buddy, bro. I’m gonna post this on the web if you don’t stop.”

A strange unfamiliar voice boomed behind the four of them, prompting them to turn their heads to witness two figures standing in the distance. One of them was a tall young man in an Atlesian military uniform designed for a high-ranking officer. Normally the attire would consist of the usual white coat over a black shirt with a red tie.

But with the cavalier way this man had decided to go about doing things, Jaune would see that he seemed to almost not give much of a damn about the dress code, pulling back the sleeves on the coat to show the raging muscles of his forearms. The way his messy hair was strewn about in the wind also gave off this impression. It was dark, yet a clean and professional cut, but left completely unhinged and entirely to its own device flowing over his confident green eyes.

The carefree smile he wore on his strong face and square jawline was also incredibly telling of the fact that he could have slicked his hair back, but simply decided not to.

Although, upon closer inspection, Jaune did notice that the man standing before him bore an uncanny resemblance to someone he had seen before. He just wasn’t entirely sure who.

On the other hand, standing next to the young man was a young woman who also sported very similarly short black hair and the exact same military uniform. The smile she wore, however, was much less arrogant in comparison and much more infectious and sincere, especially with the way her purple eyes glistened with that beaming grin.

Much like the tall muscular young man, she had also pulled up her sleeves in a more casual manner. However, the difference between her and the man was the fact that she had a layer of boxing tapes wrapped around both her hands. So it was clear the decision to wear her uniform the way she did was not simply because she did not care. What drove this point home was the black Grimm essence that had bloodied all over the hand wrappings. Could she just have been in a fight not too long ago?

These two young man and woman would stand tall and poised, like that of a true Atlesian soldier.

“Yo, Oliver is in the house!” Cardin shouted just as he rushed over and the two men embraced. “How are you doing? Where’ve you been? You missed throwball practice again. What’s up with that?”

“I’m doing fine, man,” Oliver laughed. “Better than fine actually. I just got promoted. Can you believe that? Colonel Forest, reporting for duty.”

“Whoa, no shit, for real? We haven’t even graduated, yet. What gives?”

“Guess you gotta step up your game, bro.”

“Ha-ha, shut the fuck up. Oh, you guys, come here,” Cardin waved over the three. “This is Oliver Forest, he and I go way back. We used to be on the wrestling team, throwball team, and even the boxing club back in high school.”

“How are y’all doing?” Oliver waved his hand.

“Hi.”

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Wassup?”

“Oh, before I forget,” Oliver cleared his throat, “this is Lisa Rhed, my teammate. She’s also a Colonel now. We’re part of Team GOLD, you guys probably already know. We usually have different professors, so I don’t think we’ve seen each other much.”

“So good to finally meet you all,” Lisa smiled as she dashed around vigorously shaking everybody’s hand. The speed at which she moved was almost blinding, but it paled in comparison to that bright infectious grin of hers.

“I’ve heard so much about you guys,” said Jaune. “The stats you put up at the Academy, and the videos. You guys are amazing.”

“Aw, thanks bro. See that Lisa?” Oliver nudged her, “We have an admirer.”

“More like several, and that’d still be lowballing it,” she laughed it off. “We have the Fleet Admiral to thank to be perfectly honest, we wouldn’t be here without his guidance.”

“Anyway, let’s get back to the matter at hand,” said Cardin. “Why exactly are you guys here? And why are you dressed like this? Nice drip, though.”

“Thanks,” Oliver adjusted his collar. “But we’re actually here on official business. There’s been some development near the southern regions of Lower Cairn. White Fang rebels and what’s left of the Valean troops have been spotted somewhere near Mt. Glenn. The higher-ups think the rebels are in cahoots with Branwen pirates.”

“That’s weird,” said Elm, “I thought Raven Branwen is in hiding. Could she have remobilized her fleet so fast?”

“I don’t know,” said Oliver, “but we’ve got orders to start assembling third-year students and above to join the force in the efforts to fight back. Take a look.”

Pointing to an empty space in the air, of which Jaune had trouble deciphering what exactly Oliver was pointing to. It would eventually be revealed to all of them, however, the fact that there was a gigantic invisible airship floating right before them that had only now just come into view as they disabled the invisibility cloak.

It was staring them in the face this whole time without them even realizing. On the ship were men and women waving their hands from far above, as they prepared numerous massive cannons to attach them to the two sides of this massive vessel.

“I’ve been appointed leader to take point on this operation, leading this division,” Oliver declared. “We’ll be joining several other ships similar to our own once we get to Lower Cairn. In short, I’m basically your new boss, ha-ha!”

“The hell you are,” Cardin burst out laughing, “you can’t tell me what to do.”

“Get used to it, brother.” Oliver winked, before his expression got a little more serious. “We’ll be answering directly to General Xanadu Stone and the High Chancellor herself.”

“Holy shit,” Cardin cried.

“This is getting serious,” said Ren.

“I guess orders are order,” Elm shrugged. “Let’s grab our weapons and go.”

“We do have one exception,” Oliver said before pointing to Jaune. “You are to stay here to finish your training, as I’m told.”

“Wait, what?” Jaune frowned in confusion. “I don’t get to fight? That’s not fair.”

“I don’t know what to tell you man,” said Oliver plainly, “this is a direct order from the High Chancellor. You best follow them. It’s for the best interest of the country.”

“Don’t worry, Jaune,” Cardin patted his back, “we’ll be back before you know it.”

“It’s probably for the best,” Ren tried to smile, trying to cheer him up. “You’ll be able to join us soon, I can feel it.”

“Alright, let’s move out! Time is running short!” Oliver commanded.

And just like that, they hopped onto the invisible airship – and at a snap of the fingers, before Jaune could even process what had happened, they were gone.

Over the hills and plains of the Valley, the invisible airships would fly far above ever so silently. This mighty fleet that conquered the skies was the masterwork of a Northern Giant, General of the Air Force Samantha Vulf. With the overwhelming power of her Semblance and Aura, she was able to fire off cannonballs so fierce none of the Empire’s war machines could rival that indomitable arm.

But then again it was doubtful any of the cannons from any other kingdoms could’ve done so either. Launching a cannonball of that size and speed was basically the equivalent of dropping a miniature nuclear bomb.

Now that General Sam had been temporarily put out of commission, the other Atlesian officers serving in her place would absolutely prefer to take a more cautious approach in their offense. Not to say that they did not have faith in the Empire’s steel, but General Vulf’s contribution to their firepower simply could not be disregarded.

“Be on the lookout,” Oliver commanded. “Ozymandias should not be underestimated. The Valean troops have priority, capture them alive if you can.”

The men and women occupying the inner cabin of the airship were among the best soldiers the Empire could produce. Their focus on the mission was unwavering, with the analysts working hard at their computers scanning the terrains they were passing over, triangulating certain coordinates as possible locations for enemy bases.

These technicians were essentially the backbone of this entire operation, all of whom the other soldiers had to respect despite possessing superior combat skills. Because they knew well no matter what your job was, to serve their great Empire was to serve a higher nobler cause, and that was worthy of commendation.

The analysts were quick, efficient, and surprisingly quiet. Barely speaking a single word and none would even dare release a cough to disturb the silence. All of this was thanks to some of Atlas’ latest technological advances in communication.

With a special mechanical headband tied to the supercomputer in front of them, these skilled technicians could effectively communicate telepathically, thus capable of talking without uttering a single word.

These were new experimental technologies, still in their early phases with some hiccups here and there. But they still proved to be able to work absolutely marvelously. Because this was the true power of the Atlas Empire, the fearless spirit of domination.

The soldiers carried on preparing the cannons on the ships as quietly as they could, remaining resolute as the analysts worked their magic. All of it could only stay silent for so long before one of the detection systems began sounding off in the far corner of the cabin.

“Ha-ha, finally, some action!” Oliver cried. “What is it, soldier?”

“Um… look, sir,” the lady pointed on the screen, “multiple readings on the side of the mountain.”

All scattered throughout the jungle and the stones far beneath where they were flying over. But the readings were fluttering and inconsistent. Perhaps they were still a little too far away from their targets. Or perhaps the enemy was deploying some kind of cloaking technology, making them difficult to detect.

“Prepare the Ice Dust,” Oliver commanded. “Be ready to fire them on command.”

“Sir?”

“Gotta level the playing field, fellas,” Oliver laughed, patting the back of one of the soldiers. “Let's show these Valean dogs how cold Atlas can be.”

“Woo-hoo, home turf baby!” Lisa cheered.

“Won’t they just… melt the ice with their own Fire Dust?” Ren raised his hand.

“Don’t worry my friend,” Oliver winked. “We of Atlas are mighty. What could possibly go wrong?”

And then, from far below was the brutal sound of exploding bombs traveling through the air, hissing like a vicious snake interrupting Oliver’s moment of hubris to burst open into the sky just roughly a short distance to the side of the airship, tilting the entire vessel with the force of the explosion.

Here in the sky – the war on Ozymandias had begun.

“Enemy fire!”

“Enemy spotted!”

“Artillery to port, nine o’clock.”

“Behind the bushes!”

“In the forest!”

“Fire the Ice Dust now!” Oliver commanded.

Within just a mere few seconds, the cannons on the side of the airship began raining down frozen blocks of ice and projectiles the size of giant boulders. They made contact landing on the trees near the forest before spreading its cold icy touch to the leafy bushes in their surroundings.

The cannon fire of the enemy continued to grow stronger even as the loud booming sound of their war machines was giving away their positions. The analysts up on the airship were able to quickly pick up rough estimates on where they were firing from.

By using the thermal imaging software among other sensory technology they had available onboard, the Atlesians were now seeing small pockets of soldiers and rebels down below loading their massive cannons to aim far up into the sky. There was a thin layer of a strange unidentified fabric that seemed to be blocking the thermal readings from fully seeing through where the rebels and Valeans were scrambling to and from down below.

Could this have been the same magick the Valean Generals used during their battle against the Northern Giants? The same illusionary magical fabric that could obscure things from view?

“Concentrate fire on Mt. Glenn,” Oliver pointed his finger. “Cut off their path for retreat!”

“Sir, how are they seeing through our invisibility?”

“Be cool!” Oliver shouted, “There’s no evidence they know where we are!”

Just as he finished his sentence, the bottom of the airship would then become instantly penetrated by a barrage of powerful anti-tank bullets, repeatedly stabbing away through the thick sheet of steel the whole platoon was standing on. Miraculously, nobody was hurt, but the bullets did leave some very hideous holes at the bottom of the floor.

“Holy shit, machine guns!” Cardin cried.

Without pause, Oliver walked over to his command center to grab a handheld transceiver out of one of the computers. He would shout into the device:

“General Stone, come in. Requesting to deploy paratroopers to ground level, over.”

Within seconds, the General would respond:

“Negative, continue your artillery pressure, do not break formation. We send in the troopers now and they’ll be able to deduce our formation and positioning. Keep circling the sky, wait for my command, over.”

“Sir, they are penetrating our airships with their machine guns. I think they know our position, over.”

“What? How is that possible? And how are they penetrating Atlesian steel? It’s supposed to be infused with Gravity Dust, over.”

“I don’t know, sir. We did lose some of our Paladins to the White Fang not too long ago. Maybe they reverse engineered it, over.”

“Keep formation, switch over to Fire Dust to burn away the forest if you have to. The other ships will cover you. Proceed to send in Atlesian Knights model 200 by missiles. Over and out.”

“Roger that,” Oliver put down the communicator, looking around the room, “well you heard the man. Let’s get to it, chop-chop. Keep the Ice Dust pressure, but ready the Fire Dust. Send in the knights!”

Without another moment to waste, the airship would proceed to fire off dozens of missiles that would fly far up into the stratosphere, beyond the limit of survivability for a regular mortal. From there the missiles would be able to disassemble and send down android soldiers to the ground level.

Deep down Ren was unsure of this tactic, thinking to himself as he helped haul around the gigantic Dust ammunition for the giant cannons. The White Fang may have been few, but what they lacked in number, they made up for in experience. A small number of androids would pose very little challenge for those rebels.

“BRANWEN PIRATES SPOTTED!” One of the soldiers yelled, “Starboard, three o’clock!”

“Fuck!” Oliver cried, as he spun his head, looking out to the window at the distant shores where he would see three warships approaching from afar.

“Do we have any Atlesian Paladins onboard we can deploy?” Lisa asked.

“Only one per ship,” Oliver answered. “And we’re not allowed to send them out unless ordered to.”

Before they could even discuss the options available to counter the approaching pirates, another powerful projectile from far down below would zip right through the air to accomplish something absolutely unthinkable.

It would completely decimate a nearby Atlesian airship flying next to the ship Oliver and his crew were on, decisively breaking the formation.

The curious thing, however – was that this projectile did not come from enemy artillery.

Staring out of the window into the direction of where the projectile came from and down into one of the openings through the Valean magical fabric – Oliver would be able to see a sight that was both troubling and exciting. There standing down below surrounded by gunfire and the icy cold stood a young woman crossing her arms.

There next to the White Fangs and the Valeans – was Yang Xiao Long.

“Enemy Huntress spotted!”

“Shit, is that Raven Branwen’s kid?” Elm cried.

“Deploying more Atlesian Knights as backup!” Lisa shouted.

To which Oliver would immediately interrupt:

“No, belay that order! I have a better plan.”

He then walked over to his command center once more, picking up the handheld transceiver to shout:

“General Stone, come in. Requesting to deploy paratroopers for a second time. We have an enemy Huntress on the ground level, and they definitely know our position, over.”

Within seconds, the General would reply:

“Do we have intel on this Huntress? Over.”

“Yang Xiao Long, sir. Daughter of Raven Branwen. She just singlehandedly shot down one of our airships, sir. Over.”

“A Branwen cannot be underestimated. She may be worth two or three ordinary Huntsmen, maybe more. You send down the paratroopers, they’re going to die, over.”

“But what if we only send one paratrooper? Over.”

There was a brief pause over the communicator. After a short minute, the General’s gravelly voice resumed:

“What the hell are you talking about, soldier?”

“We are the Atlas Empire, sir,” Oliver smirked, “let’s not underestimate the quality of our own Huntsmen. In fact, we only need to send one person to do this job, over.”

“Who?”

And at that very moment, Oliver took off his service cap and began ripping off his red tie. Grinning from ear to ear, he tossed aside the communicator before shouting out loud a single word:

“Me!”

Without wasting another second debating his General, he would instantly leap out of the airship and into the open sky, diving head first straight down toward the ground. Quite the interesting landing strategy, Ren would think to himself as he witnessed this seemingly amateurish soldier jump into the heat of battle. But the farther he fell, the closer he got to the ground, the more it seemed as if he didn’t actually have a landing strategy.

And the gut feeling that told Ren such a thing turned out to be true the moment Oliver landed and cracked open the very soil far beneath, easily creating fissures beneath his heavy boots from where he stood. The mere shockwaves of his landing alone were enough to knock many of the White Fang members off their feet, tossing them far into the distance as if they were nothing but ragdolls.

And yet, in the face of that overwhelming power – Yang Xiao Long stood there, unmoving. Still crossing her arms as she stared down this cocky Atlesian young man. And here, beneath the icy forest covered in the flames of war, the two would come face to face.

“Here we go again,” Lisa shook her head, face-palming.

“Should we do something?” Ren asked. “He’s down there all alone.”

“Come on, fellas,” Elm waved to the soldiers. “Let’s go back up our Colonel.”

“Negative!” Lisa ordered, seemingly becoming firm for the first time. “We need to follow the General’s directives and preserve our troops and formation. It’s still too dangerous to go out now.”

“Besides,” Cardin walked up, leaning against the glass window as he looked down to where Oliver landed, “you guys are worrying over nothing. Oliver will be fine.”

“What makes you so sure?” Ren asked.

“I’ve known him for a long time,” Cardin shook his head smiling, “we used to brawl, wrestle, sometimes just straight up street fighting. But there’s a reason he’s part of Team GOLD and I’m not. It’s a thing you gotta understand about Oliver. He may look like a typical strongman, good ol’ brawn over brains, but he has something that other muscle freaks simply do not.”

“And what is that?” Elm asked.

“Discipline.”

“No. How?”

“Your friend is sharper than he looks,” Lisa said as she crossed her arms. “Cardin, right? You’re absolutely right about Oliver. He’s much more skilled than he looks. And I don’t say this lightly, but it’s the truth. And the truth is – Oliver may be closer than anybody else on Remnant to becoming another Superman.”

Chapter Text

Yang was a woman of confidence, one who took great pride in her raw strength. And it showed, from the way she walked to the way she stood, even to the way she dressed. A strong brown and yellow sleeveless leather long coat she wore over a simple yellow tank top with an orange scarf.

The leather boots she wore were strong and heavy, but what was truly of note were the hulking muscles on her arms she gladly left exposed for all to see. This was the reason why she wore this sleeveless coat. She had never been afraid of much, for she knew she had this power within her.

Even when she was up against the Superman of all people, even when she knew she was severely outclassed – Yang never really felt any fear. Still determined to fight to her last breath, but of course, it was only by Raven’s command and the circumstances that forced her elsewhere.

But she was not afraid.

Knives, guns, and swords, she had come face to face against many weapons in the past. Shattering all of them with the sheer force of her muscles alone. Breaking steel was child’s play for her. And yet…

When facing this well-built young man standing in front of her, she couldn’t help but feel as if she was staring straight into a mirror of herself, and that was concerning. Because even though the man did not bring along any blade or gun, his sheer stature alone signaled to Yang the fact that he may actually be more dangerous than any swordsman or gunslinger.

It was clear she needed to be cautious around this man, not be too cocky. Because he could very well be as good a brawler as she was.

“Yang Xiao Long,” he smiled.

Rising from the dirt, Oliver would stare up at the young woman. Still grinning even as she continued crossing her arms, looking down with her glowing red hateful eyes.

“Atlesian scum. Out of my way, lapdog. I have no business with you.”

“You shot down our ship. That definitely makes it my business. Or at least it should, but truth be told – I don’t think I can even pretend to care now that I’m here.”

“What are you saying?”

“I will fight for the Empire, that’s still true. But I’m down here now, fighting you. And that’s all that really matters. If a hundred ships have to sink then so be it.”

“That doesn’t sound very… patriotic,” Yang let down her arms, “I guess your people’s tyrannical brainwashing isn’t working properly today. You…”

Without even letting her finish her sentence, Oliver had already dashed forth at a speed faster than the eye could track. Instantly smashing the ground he leaped from into smithereens. Lunging forth, Yang would be able to barely see his fist coming to stop it just in time, gripping it tight as the overwhelming force of Oliver’s strength pushed her back, leaving trails in front of her boots as the strength of these two brawlers shook the very earth itself.

Not hesitating anymore, Yang powered up her Aura to its limit. What was bizarre, however, was the fact that she couldn’t really see any of Oliver’s Aura covering his body. Instead, his muscles simply raged on, sizzling as steam began escaping from the surface of his skin.

Good god, Yang thought to herself, Oliver had not even activated his Aura yet. And his strength was already this overpowering.

“That’s the spirit!” Oliver cackled, “You look like you know how to have a good time. Nothing fancy, just fists to fists.”

“Where is your weapon, you idiot?” Yang’s gauntlets began to unravel themselves.

But before she could fire them off, Oliver immediately gripped tight her fist, and with one decisive overhead motion, he yanked her off her feet and tossed her far into the distance. The throw only managed to slightly disorient her but it was still rather surprising.

“I do have a weapon just so you know,” reaching into his pocket, Oliver would pull forth a simple mechanical green glove. One that seemed to fit nicely onto his left forearm, covering his fist.

It was such a simple contraption. Perhaps a little too simple, thus making Yang suspicious. And that vague sense of confusion would only be furthered the moment Oliver began crushing the heavy mechanical glove in the burly palm of his hand. It was such an effortless motion, almost as if it took as much effort as crushing a feeble bug into nothing but powder.

Taking a long forceful breath, his smile would now sharpen into a terrifying crescent:

“Oh, you thought that was my weapon? You are sorely mistaken. It’s called the Fujinken, and it’s not meant to be a weapon.”

Winding up for a punch, his right forearm would now emit more furious steam from his pores. But at the core of his fist came the potent glowing green light of his Aura, now activated at last. The light that glowed was intense, but what was much more violent were the strong streams of wind bursting forth from every inch of his body.

It was at this moment that Yang finally realized – the steam from his body was not a sign of his Semblance. It was a byproduct of his Aura, which was permanently coating his entire body.

“What the hell is that device?”

To which, Oliver smirked:

“My limiter.”

A single punch, it was such a simple mechanic. A technique many kids all over Remnant would begin learning before they could even walk, but to master the simple moves was another thing entirely. To have a bare mortal hand rival that of bombs and cannons.

Which was exactly what Oliver had been able to do as he launched forth his fist filled with raging wind and storm in Yang’s direction to destroy an entire chunk of Mt. Glenn, as the explosion shot forth from the veins on his forearm, roaring like that of a heavenly animal barking from on high.

Thunder was gathering, and the wind grew and grew with every breath Oliver took. His lungs seemed almost endless, exhaling the moment he leaped from his feet forward to where Yang had landed on the mountain, with her face smashed into the stone.

Within seconds, Oliver would land on his feet, shaking the whole mountain, standing in front of the young woman as she struggled to her feet. Shocked at how she failed to react to that monstrous attack, her eyes now flaring up into a fiery vision of rage and a disoriented blurry view, with her ears ringing in her mind like a distress bell barely able to make a sound beneath the thunderous engines of the warships far above in the sky.

“I call it Violent Wind,” Oliver crossed his arms, laughing, “ever since I was a child, I could remember feeling every breath I took was like a feast. So much power in the air, in the brewing storm, and…”

Without letting him finish his sentence, Yang got on her feet dashing forth to deliver a flaming punch, returning the favor and instantly launching Oliver back in the opposite direction. There the sound of the shotgun blast would roar as loud as an airship cannon, which made sense considering mere moments ago when Yang shot down one of Atlas’ ships far in the sky. The remains of which were still lying near the shores nearby, under the booming cannons of both the fleets on the sea and in the sky.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Oliver shouted as the two quickly came face to face once more in the middle of the forest down below, in the middle of Valean soldiers and White Fangs.

A foolish Faunus in a White Fang mask decided to approach aiming his rifle at Oliver. Only to then be instantly grabbed by the face and lifted off the ground like a paper bag. Oliver’s grip held tight onto his skull as the man struggled, clawing away at his hand.

In a single swift motion, Oliver tossed the man forward into the crowd of soldiers, knocking them all down like a row of cans at a carnival. He stood there laughing, seeing how easily they fell, how fragile they really were in comparison to an elite Huntsman.

It was as if Yang and Oliver were standing in a field of ants, crawling in the dirt.

“Open fire, NOW!” Yang shouted, commanding the troops and pirates.

But all of that effort would ultimately be in vain the moment she witnessed the barrage of bullets bouncing off Oliver’s skin as if he were a man of steel. No matter how many bullets they emptied and how strong their machine guns were, Oliver still refused to bleed.

“Where are your Huntsmen?” Oliver asked, laughing, “This is pathetic. Give me a challenge.”

Moving at a blinding speed none of the soldiers were trained to detect, he would lift one of them by the neck strangling him. Before another soldier fired her rifle at his face, to only then quickly be stunned by the fact that he had caught the bullet between his teeth, winking at her – Oliver also picked her up and tossed both of them far into the sky before he dashed back into his bout against Yang.

The two consecutive punches he delivered to her face and her abdomen would explode, sounding off like that of a furious thunderstorm. A single strike to her jaw was enough for her to spit out blood, something she thought only the Superman could’ve accomplished.

Gritting her teeth, she fired off the shotgun from her left arm to gain enough momentum to deliver a devastating elbow shot, retaliating against Oliver’s aggression. Following that up with a fierce one-two punch, blasting his face with her Ember Celica. Yang would feel a growing frustration overtaking her mind when she witnessed the shotgun shells ejecting from her gauntlet, and still, not a single scratch on his smooth perfect jaw coated by his green Aura.

“I’ve been cautious with our troops for the sake of the General,” said Oliver, “for the sake of my team leader, Ghost. They thought you rebels might have a surplus of Huntsmen hiding in that mountain there. But if this is all you’re going to give me then I’m sorely disappointed.”

Delivering a swift uppercut, the wind from his fist would roar once more as he launched Yang far up high, sending her flying into the distance to have her head smashed into the rocks and dirt of the forest. All around her, trees were being devoured by the raging fire and the cruel cold ice, they would fall over her as she pushed them off, struggling to her feet. Trying her best to heal the wounds Oliver had just given her.

“Is this all you Valeans can do? I thought your bloodlines are magical. Where is the magick of the Branwens?”

Without even answering him, Yang spat forth a mouthful of blood so far and so fast it flew right past Oliver’s right cheek like a speeding bullet.

“Holy shit.”

“Those techniques,” Yang panted, popping her dislocated shoulder back in its socket. “I recognize that form. That’s the mark of a conqueror, a bastard!”

“You noticed, huh?” Oliver looked down, stroking his forearm.

“You people couldn’t live with yourself. All you know is invasion, theft! To steal the secrets of Eden from the Faunus tribes.”

Oliver chuckled:

“Not everybody has the mind to even comprehend the style of those ancient peoples. The Fleet Admiral is a genius – he learned it in just under a month. Not only that, he improved on it as well, and that’s the difference between Atlas and the others. We may not be the best at any one thing. You people have your magick, the West has their cavalry and scorpion racers, so on. But you can be damn sure we will learn and perfect a concept to its fullest potential.”

“Don’t act high and mighty. You are all tyrants, and thieves.”

“Fleet Admiral Maru taught us this ancient hand-to-hand style,” Oliver shook his head, ignoring Yang’s comment, “weaponizing our limbs and Aura. But I tell you right now, I have not stopped growing. You will see me rise above you, to a point where, who knows – maybe even your so-called God King will have no choice but to kneel before me.”

Inside Yang’s heart still burned a rageful soul bursting with a blood-red Aura that was beginning to ignite the very fabric of her long coat. Ripping off the leather and tossing it in the air, Yang would then crawl on all fours as she strained her muscles, with her boiling veins rippling beneath her skin.

A layer of skin that had been bloodied and bruised was now slowly morphing into something bizarre and unexpected. From the pores on her body, steam would start to emanate similarly to that of Oliver’s own coat of Aura.

But this red Aura was behaving differently, because it didn’t merely coat her body in a protective layer – it was actively transforming her skin into scales, much like that of a reptile. And not only that, but the red Aura would also force out black bony claws from beneath the flesh of her fingers. The transformation was slow, and excruciating.

Every moment was followed by the endless sound of bones crunching from her malformed body. With her muscles also simultaneously getting bigger and bigger, bulging out to an absurd degree, and hardening into something stronger than metal. Eventually, it would be clear that not only her claws and limbs were growing, but the fangs in her mouth as well, baring clearly like a hungry predator for Oliver to see.

Most peculiarly of all, however, were deep from within her long golden locks of hair, just right over the top of her skull – her red Aura would start sprouting forth a pair of horns. But upon closer inspection, Oliver quickly realized that these seemed a lot closer to antlers than they were to actual horns.

“Your Semblance,” Oliver said, “I’ve seen similar Semblances, but not like this. Turning into an animal. A dragon no less, ha!”

Yang looked up from down where she was, her eyes burning with an undying hate as fire started to emerge from within her mouth with every breath she took. Staring onward, ready to pounce even as Oliver clapped his hand together excitedly, steaming with a powerful windy Aura.

“Oh, yeah,” he chuckled, “this is what I’ve been waiting for. Come on, Branwen. Let’s go!”

Without another moment to waste, Yang launched herself forth with strength tenfold as before, easily crushing the very ground she stood on to create massive quakes far below. The shockwave between the two fighters rumbled the moment they clashed with one another, shattering the sound barrier upon contact.

Each of them held onto each other’s fists pushing against one another in a test of strength. Two monstrous titans of power – one engulfed in an animalistic fire of rage and hatred, the other a specimen of perfect arrogant human commanding the overwhelming force of the wind. The steam of their Aura clashed so violently that every tree within a one-mile radius had either been reduced to barks or disfigured beyond recognition, crushed as if they were nothing but twigs.

"You know they say dragons with antlers like yours are supposed to be divine. Old Mistralian myth I heard," Oliver said. “Ghost wouldn’t shut up about it. He’s obsessed with old stories.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Yang growled, “Shut the fuck up!”

“What are you gonna do about it? Huh? Let’s have some fun, Branwen.”

Having had enough, Yang yanked her fist away from Oliver’s grip to then deliver a massive fiery punch to his face, one fast enough that Oliver did not manage to block or evade. The shockwave from the blow created sparks like that of fireworks, allowing one to be able to see it from miles away.

Oliver was unharmed from this punch, but it did catch him a little off guard. No matter, he thought to himself. Because this truly was everything Oliver could’ve asked for. It didn’t matter how many of his soldiers got hurt. To him, it didn’t even matter how much he himself got hurt. What mattered was the fight, the life, the air of combat getting sucked into his lungs.

Winding up for another powerful punch, the green windy Aura of his Semblance would begin coating his body as Oliver’s cackle echoed across the land. There in the distance over by the shores, one of the pirate ships would aim a cannon right toward where Oliver was standing. That all proved to be a futile effort, however, the moment the ship fired its projectile forth, only to have Oliver’s violent wind redirect the cannonball – instantly sending it back where it came from, to crash onto the side of the ship, dealing massive damage.

Now finally understanding how much trouble she and her troops were truly in, Yang got on all fours once more in preparation to pounce forth the moment Oliver would decide to throw his punch. The flames from her lungs were roaring with every heartbeat, with her claws still getting sharper digging into the cracking ground beneath.

Even as the two were getting ready for the clash of their lives, Oliver still refused to stop smiling. He knew from here the two of them would pour every last ounce of their strength into this final collision, because deep down, he knew – Yang was secretly losing herself into the thrill of this fight just as Oliver did.

Here in this moment, they both wanted to prove to each other who was truly the stronger fighter.

And yet…

It only took a single strike across the side of both their cheeks to disrupt this cruel face-off between two warriors. Dashing at a blinding speed – Lisa Rhed had now descended from the airship far above to smack both Oliver and Yang, snapping them out of this addiction for combat.

“That’s enough!” Lisa shouted, standing on a nearby rock. Having now deployed her ‘weapon’ for all to see.

Wrapping around both her legs were what seemed like a pair of mechanical boots with crimson plating covering from her toes to her knees. They were meticulously crafted, seemingly made from smooth round molds, shaping the bottom of her heels into what seemed like small wheels with the way the boots were circularly shaped. From the gaps between the metal plates of the boots came smoldering fire bursting out from within, followed by an intense trail of smoke and steam.

Looking up at Lisa, and seeing the boxing tapes around her hands, Yang would be able to deduce that this young woman, much like Oliver, must have also been well versed in a similar type of hand-to-hand combat. They must have been taught by the same mentor, this Fleet Admiral.

“Stand down, Yang Xiao Long!” Lisa shouted. “You have nowhere to run. Turn yourself in now before things get worse.”

“What are you talking about?” Yang grunted, only now finally looking up to the sky in horror to see a sea of soldiers descending from the invisible airships far above.

The paratroopers had arrived.

“Aw man, it’s over already?” Oliver looked above, “It was only starting to get fun.”

“Dude,” Lisa cried, “you got carried away again. Show some self-control, please. We need to set an example for the soldiers.”

“Okay, mom,” Oliver groaned. “You sound just like Ghost.”

“Come on,” Lisa smiled. “I’ll buy you a drink after all this is over.”

“Over?” Yang interrupted, “Don’t get ahead of yourself now. It ain’t over until I say it is!”

Moving forward at a blinding speed, Yang darted straight through the air over to where Lisa was standing at, readying her gauntlet for another devastating blazing punch.

Only, her fist never managed to make contact. For out of the air, Yang would be knocked back down to where she leaped from by an overwhelming force that felt too foreign to have come from a Huntsman.

Lying on the ground, confused, Yang would only be able to see what had happened when she looked up and saw her chest had been scorched by a strange but powerful blast of artillery. The smoldering fire on her body felt like cannon fire, but the trajectory did not feel like it came from the invisible ships above.

She struggled to understand where this projectile came from, and when she stared into the sky in the northern direction, looking to where Atlas would be – Yang would be able to spot far above the clouds, much higher than the Atlesian airships, a whole barrage of cannonballs and missiles traveling toward where they all were standing under the foot of Mt. Glenn.

“Finally, reinforcement,” Lisa breathed a sigh of relief.

“Is that why you ordered the paratroopers to deploy?” Oliver asked.

“Yup,” she winked, “you can thank Diamond for that. Just in the nick of time.”

“That girl,” Oliver laughed, shaking his head, “saving our asses again. Ay, yo Branwen! You see that there? Above the ships. That’s our teammate firing from all the way back in our homeland, trademark of GOLD. How cool is that?”

“Gee, running your mouth again?” Lisa crossed her arms, “That’s treason, you know? Just spilling national secrets like that.”

“Whoops,” he scratched his head, “you know me, ha-ha.”

“And I love you for it.”

“Besides,” Oliver looked down to where Yang was, cracking his knuckles. “It’s not like they’re gonna be able to do anything about it anyway.”

Wiping the dirt off her clothes as she got to her feet, Yang’s Semblance began retreating back into her body, with the antlers and claws slowly but surely disappearing as her Aura began to cool. Once she was back to normal, she would point a furious finger forward to where Oliver stood, still annoyed at his smug face.

“This isn’t over,” she gritted her teeth. “You are going to pay, remember it.”

“I’ll be here,” Oliver smirked, “any time, any place.”

Retreating back into the darkness of Mt. Glenn, in the midst of the White Fangs and Valeans scattering into the forest, Yang would soon be able to pick up a sharp sound of something ripping through the clouds far above. Turning around to look in the sky, she thought it looked like a bird, squinting her eyes and it almost looked like the bird was actually a plane.

But the fact was that it was neither of those things. Far beyond where the airships flew was the most powerful being on the planet crashing down onto the Branwen pirate ships, instantly sinking them all into the bottom of the ocean in one swift motion.

The Superman had saved the day once more. Looking back, the one thing that made Yang absolutely mortified was not necessarily the appearance of Weiss Schnee. Rather, it was more the prospect that Atlas may be in the process of gaining a second Superman.

But looking back and forth between Oliver and Lisa, Yang had come to the terrifying realization that the Atlas Empire may already be in possession of not just one, but several superior mortal beings.

And that was something that invoked in Yang a deep inner fear, one so primal, but raw – the end of the world.

“Colonel Forest reporting for duty.”

“Colonel Rhed reporting for duty.”

The two approached the towering well-built monster of a man that was General Xanadu Stone, saluting him while clicking the heels of their boots, standing up straight and tall.

General Stone was just like any other typical high-ranking officer of the force, in the usual Atlesian uniform. The only notable difference one would be able to see was the fact that he stood nearly seven feet tall, easily towering over both Oliver and Lisa. His massive frame was also something that fit together very nicely with his strong square jawline and his short gray hair, slicked back into a professional manner.

“At ease,” Stone saluted back.

“We’ve set up camp just as you commanded, sir,” said Lisa. “Our men are still at work salvaging the sunken pirate ships, but all prisoners have been accounted for, besides those who escaped into the forest of course.”

“Good work, be sure to keep the students sharp with training,” said Stone. “And what of the Branwen Huntress?”

“Retreated into Mt. Glenn, sir,” Lisa pointed her finger. “Into the Western desert, we’re guessing.”

“Keep me updated then. I want her found and tried. She may have information on the fugitive Raven herself. Maybe even info on the other Valean Generals.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, General.”

From behind the three, Weiss would descend from on high.

“Chancellor,” Stone saluted, with both Oliver and Lisa following suit.

“Salutations,” she saluted back. “General, it is important for us to find all the fugitives currently in hiding, that much is true. But our target should not be a single mid-level Huntress.”

“But she’s related to Raven, is she not?” Lisa asked, catching Weiss’ attention.

“I assume then you only skimmed Xiao Long’s profile,” said Weiss. “Raven is not close to anyone, not even her own daughter, she trusts absolutely no one. I was there when the Xiao Long girl abandoned her crew, by Raven’s order. Right now the right move is to bring the prisoners back for questioning, and keep on analyzing this magical fabric they keep using. Maybe it can give us an advantage, or a clue to their next move.”

“As you say, Chancellor,” said Stone.

“In the meantime,” Weiss continued, “you best get some rest. The night will be over before you know it.”

“I don’t mean to overstep my boundaries,” said Oliver, “but may I ask where you have been during the battle today? We only saw you coming in to sink the ships during the final stretch, when they were already retreating.”

“Stand down, soldier,” Stone ordered. “That’s the Chancellor you’re talking to.”

“It’s quite alright, General,” said Weiss, “the troops deserve to know. I was out there evacuating the locals near the edge of Lower Cairn, they’re heading back to the heart of the Valley as we speak. These are nomadic tribesmen, they should have no trouble making the trip.”

There in the far distant sky came a small airship flying in at a respectable speed. As it was taking its time making its landing, Weiss would be able to look inside through the metal walls of the ship to see the officers inside – there, clear as day, was the newly appointed Rear Admiral Vester.

It was a little peculiar to Weiss that he would arrive by airship instead of traveling the seas alongside his fellow marines. But it did make a little more sense considering the airship’s superior speed compared to the larger war vessels of the sea. Coupling that with the fact that Ghost did not fly alone, but instead he was traveling with his teammate – Lieutenant General Diamond Sky, the final member of Team GOLD.

He must have picked her up all the way back from the mainland in Atlas. But the entire fleet of airships following behind the commanding vessel the two of them were flying on led Weiss to believe that it was Ghost who hitched a ride onto Diamond’s ship, not the other way around.

What was most curious for Weiss was the fact that despite Diamond’s smaller stature and slender frame – being the shortest member of the team – that young woman would turn out to be the highest-ranking member in the entirety of Team GOLD, outranking even their leader Ghost. Walking down from the descending airship, Diamond’s pristine Atlesian uniform would be in full view for all to see, the only uniform in GOLD to sport two golden epaulettes on her shoulders.

The thing that was even more baffling, however, was the fact that only now did Weiss finally notice the uncanny resemblance between Lisa and Diamond. Both wearing very similar short hair with very similar facial structures. Their eyes were different, yes, with Lisa’s being purple, while Diamond’s were blue. But everything else, it wouldn’t be unreasonable for a person to mistake the two for twins.

Come to think of it, Weiss thought to herself, now that she had a better look at Ghost and Oliver – the same similarities between these two men also began to surface now that they were all here in one place. Oliver’s hair was much messier than Ghost’s, but there was no mistake about it. If Oliver were to be given a comb, the only thing that could possibly let people tell them apart would be their eye colors, and Ghost’s slightly sharper jawline.

What exactly was going on here?

“Yo! It’s our team,” Oliver waved at Ghost, sprinting to where he was hoping to get a high-five or a fist-bump.

Instead, Ghost would take a battle stance and in an instant launch forward at a speed Oliver could not track, landing a devastating heel kick right across his face, thus sending him flying far in the sky. Ghost’s form was simply immaculate, one that reminded Weiss greatly of the Fleet Admiral himself.

“Insubordination, reckless, brain-dead!” Ghost shouted, “How many times do I have to beat the crap out of you before you finally learn?”

Oliver got down to one knee, bowing his head, fully accepting his punishment. But still obviously shaking from the pain.

“Go easy on the jaw man,” he rubbed his chin, “I feel like I’m gonna lose my teeth.”

“Good,” Ghost snapped. “Maybe it’ll finally get through to your thick skull. Don’t think you’re hot shit just because you have the skills. You train hard, but so do the rest of us. Fall back in line.”

“How’s it going, Diamond,” Oliver diverted his attention. “Long flight? Thanks for saving our asses by the way. You really came in clutch.”

Diamond would approach, hand behind her back. She proceeded to glance around the camp before speaking in a soft glaring voice:

“Any Vacuans among the prisoners?”

To which Weiss would respond as she walked toward the young General, her feet hovering firmly a few inches above the ground:

“Only Valeans here. We may run into them soon as we move into the desert.”

Diamond looked up at the strong woman, towering over her with that massive flowing cape. Beholding before this great sight, Diamond would stand up tall, saluting:

“By your will, Chancellor. We will level the West if we have to. Bringing King Theodore before the court of Atlas if it is indeed true he has joined the war.”

“Very good,” Weiss nodded, “Winter’s blessings go with you.”

“You are kind, but I can’t accept,” Diamond shook her head. “I do not believe in the Seasons.”

“Hmm…”

Diamond continued:

“The only true power of this world – is Atlas. The nation to hold the burden of all on our shoulders.”

Chapter Text

“Can you fetch me some water? I’m a bit thirsty,” Qrow waved to one of the soldiers, standing before all the new recruits, many of whom were still students.

Standing here in the middle of the forest wasn’t exactly a conventional place for teaching. But the students were supposed to be elite Huntsmen, those who could fight on any terrain. So Qrow quickly put that worry to rest. Doing so, however, would only lead him to realize how truly nervous he really was standing before them all, being a Valean teaching these Atlesians.

He saw some of his own people in the crowd as well, but he knew well that even before Atlas took over, he wasn’t exactly the most qualified person to be a teacher.

Training Rubio was one thing, but an entire class…

“Ahem, as I was saying,” Qrow licked his dry lips, “a very important skill that you’ll need to master is the ability to extend your Aura to your weapons. Have it traverse the surface of the steel. This can be um… accomplished much easier if you have mastery over your weapon and your fighting style, treating it as an extension of your own limbs.”

“In my case, my fists are my weapons,” Oliver interrupted, “so easy money, am I right?”

Qrow turned his head to stare daggers at the arrogant young man, but ultimately decided to ignore him, resuming the lesson:

“Gravity is one of the most important components of the mechanics of Aura. One of the Advanced Aura techniques is to strike without making contact. If you are able to create that vortex of gravity between your weapon and your target, the amount of energy you can exert will be incredibly dense, resulting in devastating damage. Now, I realize the curriculum would normally ask you to practice on wooden dummies, but I think we’re going to speed things up today and just move onto some sparring, trial by fire.”

“Now that’s more like it!” Oliver cracked his knuckles.

“Fall back in line, Forest,” Ghost ordered.

“Bah, you’re no fun.”

“You’ll get your turn,” Lisa patted his shoulder, “don’t worry.”

“So,” Qrow glanced around, “do we have any volunteers for the first match?”

Surprisingly, the one hand to quickly raise above all the other recruits did not belong to an Atlesian nor a Valean. Matter of fact, the person in question wasn’t even a student.

Over on the left side, emerging from the crowd – came Blake Belladonna.

A young woman who hid so well in the shadows of the people all around her, sporting a stylish black leather long coat worn over her black vest and white collar long sleeves shirt underneath. A rather fancy getup that made her look as if she were a butler, or as if she were attending a ball. The golden buttons and belt buckle of the attire certainly helped in giving off that high-class vibe, alongside the tie she wore, her dark purple trousers, and boots that looked as if they were tailored using silk woven from the moonlight.

Blake walked up, presenting herself before everybody without an ounce of fear. Scanning all around with her shimmering yellow eyes, hiding unclear intentions behind that stoic expression. The pair of cat ears above her head would barely even move as they smoothly blended in with the dark color of her long flowing hair.

“Well this is a surprise,” Qrow then cleared his throat. “I didn’t realize… you came.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” a voice echoed, just now emerging, “I flew her here from the Academy.”

Turning their heads, everybody could now see Professor Watts walking in, adjusting his tie.

“Arthur,” Qrow tilted his head.

“Please, Professor Watts,” he corrected, “let’s be professional.”

“Right…”

“As a pardoned ex-convict,” Watts explained, “I thought we ought to show Miss Belladonna around the facilities, and maybe even pay a visit to one of our training sites such as this.”

“With all due respect,” said Qrow, “I think it’s important for us to get on with the curriculum concerning actual recruits of the force. We shouldn’t delay it any further.”

“Oh, come now,” Watts laughed it off, “I don’t see any harm in letting our… guest here have a go at it for a round or two. After all, our troops deserve to be trained by the best of the best, including those foreign to the nation. You don’t have a problem with that, correct? Professor?”

Qrow paused, before reluctantly answering:

“No, Professor.”

“Wonderful, then let’s get on with the lesson, shall we? Don’t let me interrupt your process, Professor. Just pretend I’m not here.”

“Alright,” Qrow looked around once more, “anybody wanna volunteer to be her opponent?”

“Ha-ha!” Oliver cried, smashing his fists together, “You know it, baby! Let me at her.”

“NO!”

A strong commanding voice interrupted Oliver’s fantasy for glory, and stepping forth – Ghost Vester had now extended his hand in front of Oliver, stopping him from taking a step. A simple but assertive gesture that Oliver had no choice but to respect despite his confusion.

“This one is mine,” Ghost declared.

“Are you sure?” Lisa asked.

“I will remind you guys,” said Ghost, “that this woman IS Adam Belladonna. A student of Raven Brawen, the fugitive. I would like to test her, see how much she remembers.”

“You don’t have to pretend, bro,” Oliver crossed his arms. “We all know you just want revenge for what Raven did to our Fleet Admiral.”

“Fall back in line, soldier,” Ghost snapped, pointing his finger.

“I’m just sayin’,” Oliver put up his hands in defense.

“Okay then,” said Qrow, “we have our combatants. Make some space, everyone.”

“Oh, but before we start,” Watts cleared his throat, “I don’t believe our friend here has a weapon.”

“We have some from our armory, nothing custom-made, though,” Qrow pulled out his scroll from his pocket before typing in a series of codes. After a short while, a loud sound of a missile launching from a nearby airship could be heard from where they stood. The missile came crashing down from far above, landing in front of them before opening itself up to reveal a whole table full of guns, swords, rifles, and even mechanical axes and knives of all sizes.

“Courtesy of the Academy,” Watts said to Blake.

Not saying a single word, Blake walked over the rows of weapons on display, inspecting them all closely without laying a finger on them. And it did not take long before her eyes landed on a blade lying on the far corner of the table. A long straight single-edged sword sheathed inside a black casing – a sword exactly in the style of Adam’s crimson blade.

Without hesitation, Blade picked up the sword and immediately strapped it around her waist.

“You are Raven’s student, yes?” Ghost said as he approached, adjusting his tie, “I wonder how much you remember.”

Blake remained silent as she faced the young man, prompting him to shake his head:

“You’re right. No more words – only our swords.”

With a single press of a button on a golden ring he wore on his middle finger, the ring would instantly begin morphing into a complex mechanical glove that almost looked as if it was going to devour Ghost’s entire forearm, reaching all the way up to where his elbow was. Much like the device Oliver called his limiter, this mechanical golden glove on Ghost’s right arm was a simple contraption.

Unlike popular weapon designs, this device was not the core of his skill and strength, because what Ghost had learned from his mentor Maru was the ancient principle to weaponize one’s entire body. Every limb could potentially become deadly, something a lot of modern-day Huntsmen seem to have forgotten, and instead decided to rely too much on steel instead of spirit.

“I heard Adam once sliced an entire train in half,” Lisa whispered. “Is that true?”

“I read about that in a report,” Oliver whispered back, “I kinda skimmed it, though. But it looks like he may have amped his power with Gravity Dust of some kind. Kinda muddies the water if you ask me. Doesn’t really matter. Our boy here is Maru’s favorite student, and that man can cut atoms.”

Raising a hand in the air, Qrow would declare:

“Whenever you’re ready. Start!”

And yet, both Ghost and Blake still stood in their place, not moving an inch. With Ghost’s right hand hanging down on his side and Blake’s hand steadily hovering over the handle of her sword. The most peculiar thing anyone could see was the fact that there was no shaking on Blake’s hand, not even by half an inch. She was as steady as a statue, just standing – waiting.

Staring into each other’s eyes, the two of them could see remnants of the generations of those long past. Two rulers of the seas, fighting so violently they cracked the water and sky. And now their future had come face to face.

That being said, Ghost couldn’t help but feel like there was something different within Blake this very moment. It was true that she really was Adam Belladonna. Proud Faunus of the White Fang, but was this one actually an Edenite? Ghost asked himself observing the tranquil but unsure way she conducted herself. It seemed true enough that she was immensely strong and skilled, but the way her eyes darted around in very specific patterns gave off this vague feeling of confusion.

And just like that, Oliver decided to power down his golden glove, exhaling in total disappointment.

“What are you doing?” Qrow asked. “Are you forfeiting?”

To which Ghost simply replied:

“This match is over, did you not see?”

The crowd of students could only look around at each other, unsure of what he meant as they discussed amongst themselves.

“Did you see anything?” Cardin nudged Elm, standing next to him.

“Nah, dude. They just stood there. What the hell happened?”

And to everyone’s surprise, Blake would nonchalantly toss her sheathed blade onto the ground in front of everybody. Her eyes filled with a mixture of silent anger, frustration, and disbelief before she turned her back, walking away.

But not before leaving them with some final words:

“He speaks true, this duel is over.”

“Duel?” Cardin raised an eyebrow.

And standing near his teammates, Oliver would burst out laughing uncontrollably, still arrogantly crossing his arms.

“You really wanna know what happened?” Oliver smirked. “Check out that sword.”

Confused, Cardin would kneel down with the other students gathering around to observe. And to his shock, the moment he tried pulling out the blade – was the moment he found out he was only holding onto a handle.

The sword inside the sheath had been completely sliced off, reduced to nothing but fragments of steel to be poured out onto the ground for all to see. The damage was clear, irreversible, and the cut was insanely clean, to the point it was doubtful that industrial laser cutters could’ve done a better job with how accurately the pieces were divided.

“What the fuck?” Cardin cried.

What made it more mind-boggling was the fact that the moment Cardin tried to pick up a broken piece of the steel blade, his finger would be inexplicably shocked with a strong current of electricity, almost burning his fingers.

“Ha-ha! That’s Ghost for ya,” Oliver laughed, patting Ghost on the back. “Fastest quick draw in our school, ain’t that right, bro?”

“Learn some humility, Colonel,” Ghost ordered. “It was a good fight. She isn’t quite herself, but that doesn’t mean it was easy.”

Looking down at the palm of his hands, and then onto the tip of his index finger. Ghost could see it well, even while being so incredibly subtle and microscopic that it was almost impossible to even spot without squinting one’s eyes. But true enough, it was clearly there – a small wound dripping ever so slowly from beneath the surface of his skin, marked in the perfect crescent shape of a sword-slicing motion.

In a medical facility far away in the North, back in Atlas’ mainland, was a secret laboratory hidden away in the technological jungle of the Empire. In this lab there were only two scientists who walked in and about through this area, making absolutely sure they would not be seen by normal people, or even their other coworkers.

One of them walked forth wearing a subtle smirk. Her name was Gardenia Silva, a woman wearing a white lab coat with a red scarf over her shoulders, and a white service cap on top of her golden locks of hair. She was a Grimm biologist under the employment of the Fleet Admiral, specializing in researching Grimm behavior in hopes to understand more about this strange species, and perhaps even deconstructing their biology to unearth the hidden story of ancient species of the past – like that of the Giants.

Occasionally she would also be employed by the Academies as a Professor to teach certain curriculums for the students in training. She could recite all the textbooks from memory without having to pick up the books a second time. But truth be told she had never been super enthusiastic about this part-time job. It paid well teaching the young soldiers and scientists at the very least.

But no matter the money, that was only her day job. When no one was looking, she would descend deep into the secret facilities to continue her work in tampering with something far greater than anybody could ever imagine.

One project simply titled – GOLD.

The workstation which she conducted business on was filled to the edge with research papers and analytics, with some even dating as far back as decades ago. Reports and graphs scattered comfortably beneath a disorganized mess of broken pens and pencils, all lying next to a mountain of handheld calculators.

It was bizarre how many of these small computing devices were all over the place, considering Gardenia could’ve easily done any calculations within her head. But the fact she had been ripping out the microchips and other parts from these machines may be an indication to why there were so many in the first place.

There was, however, another part of the puzzle that seemed baffling. Papers, whiteboards, written formulas, all of these things were present, overflowing even. But despite being a biologist, Gardenia did not have any live samples of anything anywhere on these desks. No blood vials, no skin, hair, or other DNA samples, not even a single chemical container or test tube anywhere in sight. Only piles upon piles of documents.

Beneath the amount of paperwork, however, came a familiar sound of snoring. Growling ever so quietly as Gardenia approached from behind with a cup of coffee in her hand. The white-haired woman sleeping so peacefully in her messy lab coat was none other than Gardenia’s partner in crime in this secret operation – Willow Schnee herself.

Her hair was loose, and her eyes were baggy. It was clear she had been staying up working for as long as she possibly could. It would be a great shame, Gardenia thought, if she were to be disturbed right this moment by a sudden splash of some kind.

“WAKE UP!” Gardenia shouted pouring the boiling coffee all over Willow, instantly pulling her awake into a raging bloodcurdling scream as she clawed at her face with the dripping coffee, casually knocking everything off her desk in the process.

Turning around, Willow’s confused expression immediately mellowed out into one of regular annoyance. She grumbled:

“Oh, it’s just you.”

“You bet your ass it’s me,” Gardenia took off her cap, tossing it to the side as she playfully winked her shiny blue eye at her colleague, who still sat there unamused.

“You’re late,” Willow commented.

“Or maybe you’re just early. Ever thought about that? How’s the translation job coming along by the way? Any progress on that slab?”

“Um… well… I swear I left it here a few minutes ago. I just have to find it…”

“Truth be told I don’t expect much from it. We might as well just leave it as paperweight.”

“No, no. I’m getting to it, don’t worry. It’s just… the word Ragnarok. I can’t make head or tail of it.”

“See? I told you, didn’t I? It’s fucking aliens. I swear, I’m the only one around here who knows what’s up. Open your third eye, people!”

“Where does the word come from? It’s not Valean, Mistralian, Vacuan, or even Atlesian. It isn’t even Edenite.”

“Who cares? What about the other words? That’s what we wanna know. The prophecy.”

From underneath the mountain of notes and sheets, powering through the paper cuts, Willow finally managed to locate the slab they were working on. Coating the slab with a thin feeble layer of Aura to not damage it, she laid the large piece of stone onto her workstation after clearing it of the mess, tossing everything onto the floor.

“Silver-Eyed Warriors are very cryptic I’ll tell you that much,” said Willow. “A lot of them think they’re gods…”

“So they write poetry to show off. My kind of people, ha!”

“All I have so far is something about the hand that holds the good-evil.”

“What the fuck is a good-evil?”

“It’s supposed to be a literary device,” Willow explained, “it’s called merism. Something where we combine two contrasting elements to refer to the whole, a more general meaning. It’s just supposed to mean the hand that holds everything. The universe, the multiverse, Eternal Beyond, the infinite spectrum of chaos.”

“Nerd,” Gardenia yawned, mocking Willow. “You archeologists and your purple prose. I can never wrap my head around that crap. Why can’t you just be normal? I’ll be back to work if you need me. The GOLD kids are taking years from my life with every second.”

“Quite the handful aren’t they? Maybe if you were ‘normal,’ they would’ve turned out better.”

“Hey, hey… check this out,” Gardenia began performing her usual ‘magic trick,’ pulling her thumb apart while smiling like a lunatic. “We really do need to add a magic course to the curriculum. The kids gotta know all about the pizzazz, the showmanship.”

“How did a monkey brain like you ever get hired?”

“You have a weird kid, too. Surely you must know what it’s like.”

Turning around to her desk, Willow would pick up a framed photo of a child she had placed here long ago – a picture of a red-haired young girl in a brilliant golden dress. Her green eyes sparkled like emeralds, and her smile was firm, unwavering.

Glancing down the photo, Willow would feel an overwhelming sensation swelling from the back of her throat. One that instantly developed into a violent cough, so strong she was practically gasping for air as she scrambled to reach for the bottle of pills buried deep in her lab coat. The medicine was soothing the pain, but only temporarily.

Back at the hospital, Weiss floated outside looking into the room where Ironwood was staying. Still nothing after all this time. The heartbeat was steady, his breath was slow, but still, he would not wake. There were already signs that Fleet Admiral Maru and General Sam Vulf were slipping in and out of consciousness, she could clearly hear their heartbeats all the way from over here.

And yet, General Ironwood still remained as he was, in deep sleep. Weiss could not help herself but clench her fists at the sight, feeling helpless – unable to see what was wrong even with her super precise eyes and ears.

“He will be fine,” Pietro grabbed Weiss’ hand. “I’ve seen him been through worse.”

Weiss stayed floating there, staring forth unblinking. She seemed focused at first glance, but as her father, Pietro could tell how lost and confused she really felt. The subtle look in her eyes gazing through the window, he had learned to tell the difference between real concentration and the emptiness of a desperate young child.

Pietro sighed, knowing how far apart he and his daughter were. How did they get to this point, he wondered.

Tapping on Weiss’ shoulder, Pietro would then also feel a subtle desperation growing within. He said:

“I want to show you something. Can you fly us to James’ office?”

And just as he had hoped, that caught her attention.

“Did you forget something?” She asked.

“No, just something I want… no, something I need to show you.”

She wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to get at, but he was still her father at the end of the day. So she had no intention of distrusting anything he had to say. Thus, she swiftly picked him up off the ground and carried him away, casually flying down the hallway and out into the open sky.

Within just a mere few seconds, they had arrived at Ironwood’s office in a large military base near the heart of the Valley. Of course, flying so fast, Weiss was sure to coat her father in a strong protective layer of her own Aura to avoid the wind resistance and any potential whiplash.

Entering inside, Weiss could see that everything was left just the way it was before Ironwood was hospitalized. A simple desk with the General’s nameplate on top, with a big bookshelf placed in the back from where he would sit.

Weiss wasn’t entirely sure why her father wanted to be here. And things made even less sense when he reached forth onto the desk to summon Ironwood’s holographic computer. Typing in a passcode, Pietro had managed to access the files within. From this, Weiss deduced that Ironwood must have trusted him to this great of a degree.

That trust would be shown further the moment Pietro pulled forth a flash drive from his breast pocket. He then explained:

“We had planned to show you this when the time is right. But I’m making a judgment call now.”

“We?”

From the file inside, Pietro pulled up a video recording of two soldiers in the middle of a training session. Weiss instantly recognized that tall muscular frame of General Ironwood – standing before a younger version of herself. This must have been more than a decade ago, Weiss thought to herself, looking back to this teenager in a military tank top with the slightly baggy white trousers above those strong heavy boots.

The two were each struggling to haul around a gigantic block of dense metal on their shoulders. Weiss remembered these sessions well. They were very much trying to push their physical strength to their absolute limits at the time, so they explicitly did not activate their Aura. There, in the video Ironwood could be seen lifting a twenty-ton slab, while Weiss remembered that she was trying to push herself to one hundred, sweating profusely from the effort. The both of them had managed to get so much stronger since those days.

But the one thing Weiss still did not understand was why this session was filmed. And who exactly was the one filming this in the first place? The only person Weiss could guess was her father.

“Good work, soldier,” Ironwood said as he laid down his block of metal. “Why don’t you go get some sleep? We’ll pick this back up tomorrow.”

“I can still keep going, sir. We’ve barely just begun.”

“This isn’t a request. This is an order. We all have our limits. Go rest.”

Hesitating, Weiss eventually turned to face the General, saluting him:

“Yes, sir. As you wish.”

Carrying the large block of metal on her shoulders, Weiss walked away out of the camera’s field of view. And eventually, there would be nothing but silence between the General and his close friend Pietro after Weiss had closed the door to this training facility.

“Are you still filming?” Ironwood asked.

“Yes, it’s still on.”

Clearing his throat – Ironwood began:

“Miss Schnee… Weiss. This will be part one of a series of recordings I will be making as part of… let’s just say future instructions in cases of great emergencies and national crises. These are messages, instructions, and lessons I want to prepare over the next couple of years or so. Your enhanced super hearing has not yet been fully developed at this point in time. Which is a good thing, because a lot of what I want to teach you is beyond what you’re currently capable of.”

Ironwood then proceeded to point his finger downward, presumably to where the flash drive was. He continued:

“Below is a series of files. Training instructions, lessons, and stories. They will test you to your very limits. It sounds absurd, yes, to suggest you have a limit, but it is necessary. I… I never wanted you to be held down by these – burdens. The burdens of the world on your shoulders, on ‘our’ shoulders. I want… I want you to enjoy your youth. And yet, here you are, ready and wanting to serve. There will come a day when you will grow into the most powerful being on this planet. That day might have already been here all things considered. So I really can’t stop you.”

Turning to her father, Weiss was still not entirely sure what he really wanted to tell her with this. Instead of an answer, Pietro simply pointed his finger at the screen, telling her to keep watching.

Ironwood continued:

“I… how do I say this? I admit… I’m not the best at this kind of thing. But, I care for all of my soldiers. The men and women who serve under me are not only my responsibility – they are…”

Ironwood sighed, shaking his head before resuming:

“They are family. A kingdom is a family, because at the end of the day, no matter how distant, every single one of us shares the blood that makes us Atlesian. Our blood is not magical or sacred, but this is the blood of ordinary men. Those ordinary made exceptional by the inspiration of a Superman. There will come a day when you gain the power to conquer the cosmos. But in that same vein, there will also come a day when you will feel completely helpless despite having the strength to hold up the Heavens. I… don’t want you to go through that day. Not without a guiding hand. Do well to remember that you are my best soldier, yes. But more than anything – you are Atlesian. So for that, I just want to let you know – you are not alone. What kind of a General will I be if I neglect the well-being of those in my care? So I will be here, maybe not physically, but here regardless.”

With a heavy heart pounding, Weiss would then for the first time in a long time – voluntarily set her foot down the solid ground to firmly walk forth, laying her hand onto Ironwood’s desk. Inside her, she felt a swelling emotion of something warm and soothing. Something so unfamiliar she did not really know how to describe precisely. But none of it really mattered, because hearing Ironwood’s voice once more as she shouldered this burden was truly everything she could have asked for.

“One final thing. Among the files, all I’ll ask of you is to not open the final folder inside. It’s encrypted anyway, but it will be revealed, in time. May the power of our nation be with you… Weiss.”

Chapter Text

Driving his fists into the tree trunk, Jaune would feel the sharp pain shooting through the tip of his knuckles, splashing them with dried aching blood. He had been at this tree for days now, with every passing minute occasionally hearing the piercing sound of bombs and ammunition firing from across the continent. The sound was unnerving, for he waited there anxiously, waiting for Weiss to return to see what a failure he truly was.

Day after day, the blade on the ground would not budge an inch. He had tried it from every angle, far below, pulling from above. Through sweat and blood and bruises and cuts, the burns that would scorch the surface of his skin, strengthened by the heat of the furious sun. Even after all that, still nothing.

Every morning would start out the same. He woke up, tidied up his sleeping bag, before rolling up his sleeves to attempt the pulling of the blade from the stone. The moment the sun hit noon, he would rest. Punishing himself with one thousand pushups, of which he would only be able to complete about two hundred of them in his current physical condition.

From there, he would punish himself further with the afternoon exercises. Where he took out his sword and began carving away at the nearby trees of the Forever Fall. He would spend hours after hours chipping away at the sturdy wooden trunks, a few hours chopping without his Aura, with the rest of the day pushing himself to his absolute limit.

But through the sweat and blood and bruises and cuts – nothing came of them except the endless tears on his face rolling ever so lightly down his face under the grueling sun far above, searing the day as the seconds passed.

“Why…” he grunted to himself, before shouting, “why must you be so useless?”

One more slice, to tear down the tree before him. This now marked the seventh tree he had chopped down. The blade on his sword was dull, for he had not yet mastered the strengthening of his own Aura, coating it around his steel.

Gripping the handle tightly, he turned around ready to swing at the air in his rage, maybe even tossing it far in the distance.

Only – when he turned, standing before him was a little boy.

The boy was ordinary, sporting plain clothing with a warm fur cap worn over his short green hair. He looked up from where he stood, could not have been older than ten years old, and yet there he stood watching the puzzled young man still gripping at his blade chipped into a hunk of iron.

After a long moment of silence, the boy pointed his finger, simply saying:

“Sword.”

Confused, Jaune looked up.

“Uh…” he laid down his weapon, scratching his head. “Yeah… um… yeah, this is a sword. I mean… it’s supposed to be anyway. A dull weapon might as well just be a lump of rock.”

“Papa told me the exact same thing,” the young boy’s eyes widened with innocent curiosity.

“Really? Where is your papa now? Matter of fact, where are your parents?”

And with a single finger pointed plainly toward the direction behind where the boy stood, far in the distance and beyond the ground coated with red Forever Fall leaves were these shadowy figures that slowly emerged from the thick fog, from which Jaune was forced to squint to properly see a man and a woman gradually materializing into view.

The one thing that was curious to him, however, was the fact that their shadows were not the only ones being hidden behind the murky fog of this forest. There behind the trees – came many more.

“The first lesson I want you to comprehend,” Ironwood’s recording echoed on quietly, with Weiss watching intently, “is to cut the atoms. Strike at the subatomic strings.”

Weiss stood there with a placeholder rapier in her hand, slashing it around the empty air with vicious precision. Twice on her right hand, then swapping over to her left for a little practice. As a master swordswoman with the dexterity of a godly machine, the action which Ironwood asked of her to carry out was simple.

The trouble was the true purpose to be learned from this ‘lesson.’

“Is that it?” Weiss looked over to her father, grimacing. Pietro, of course, immediately realized Weiss’ apparent confusion.

“Some of these recordings are very brief, and bizarre to say the least,” he said. “I was never fully privy to what James really wanted with many of these. But the wording of this one is interesting. He said this is something he wants you to comprehend. He didn’t say he wanted you to learn.”

“Makes sense.”

“Really? You’re saying… you can already cut the atoms?”

“It’s not difficult. I can see down to the strings, too. Tearing them apart is simple. But what does he truly want?”

“I’m afraid I can’t be of much help in that regard. String theory is all very… well, theoretical. No device on Remnant is as powerful as your eyes, so none of our theories have really been fully tested.”

“It’s alright, father. Thank you. I will contemplate on this.”

And just like that, she floated out of the office and into the wide-open sky.

It’s all about the vibration, Weiss thought to herself, it must be. These subatomic strings at the most basic levels were vibrating, each at a different frequency that was difficult to fully grasp if one did not have the eyes to look out for those tiny changes in fluctuations. This vibration must be the key to – everything. The very fundamental building blocks of how the universe worked.

Perhaps even the key to glimpse into the true nature of gravity.

If one had the correct precision to manipulate the frequencies these strings were vibrating at, surely then – one could essentially control the very fabric of time and space, of Reality.

By the foot of Mt. Glenn were various old and abandoned towns that had been long ravaged by the colors of steel and gunpowder. These were places that should’ve been rebuilt by the powers of the kingdoms if not for the dispute on who truly were the owners of these lands. The memories of various nomadic tribes that once inhabited the ruins here were implanted deep into the soil, as the footsteps of the Atlesian soldiers inched closer into the heart of the land.

It was important for the troops to establish a strong foothold here at the bottom of the mountain before they could advance further into the West. The Valeans would have no doubt prepared powerful defenses and traps to ward off potential invaders.

“Be thorough with your search, men,” Ghost waved to the soldiers as they braved the ruins of these torn towns. Through the rubble and the crumbling walls weathered by hail, sunlight, and the weight of gravity.

Oliver carried on his shoulders large boulders of these broken buildings, nonchalantly tossing them aside to reveal potential secrets beneath the dirt. Behind him, Lisa would similarly break down the tough exterior of the stone with a couple of simple jabs, shattering the hard surface at blinding speed. She was, of course, not satisfied with just a single boulder. So dashing around faster than the soldiers could even see, she would be able to cover large portions of the terrain before running back to Ghost to report in.

“No signs of life,” she said. “I’m going to let the boys clean this up before commencing our move into the mountain.”

“Just be sure you’re thorough,” Ghost nodded, before reaching for his earpiece. “Diamond, come in. Any readings on the sensors?”

She answered back immediately:

“Negative. Proceed with caution. Magick can fool our equipment, over.”

“Alright men,” Ghost pointed his finger, “I want the perimeter secured. Bring the Knights and start deploying the Paladins. I want tight patrols. Sound the alert for anything that seems off.”

“GHOST!”

Oliver’s booming voice interrupted the commands, catching the men’s attention. With both Ghost and Lisa dashing over to where Oliver was standing, there on top of a mountain of what seemed like simple debris of stone and wrecked steel, the three of them stood there staring down the small mound – and lying at the bottom far below was a hatch.

“What’s down there?” Ghost asked, before commanding, “Open it.”

“That’s the thing…” Oliver replied, showing him his bruised palms, “I can’t get it to budge.”

“What?”

Soaring through the sky and deep into the stratosphere, Weiss flew high far above before looking down to the entirety of Remnant far below. She was the Guardian of the North Sea, so flying high to witness the majesty and beauty of this planet was nothing new. But now with Ironwood’s new words soaking deep in her mind, she was now beginning to wonder if there was more to this world that he actually wanted her to see.

A hidden lesson buried somewhere beneath the horizon.

Staring down at the rapier she carried with her, she could see her own reflection in the deep steel forged from the fires of Atlesian smiths, deep in the hearts of the cold frozen north. And from there, Weiss gripped tight the blade – and her palm began to vibrate.

Slowly, initially, but surely, she would firmly pick up the pace. First at the speed of sound, then several times that, before comfortably bordering the speed of light. Of course, she would not stop there – for she was trying to push it even further beyond.

Two times, a hundred times, twenty million times, a billion times, twenty quadrillion times, one septillion times.

With eyes that could see further than any on the planet, she zoomed down to the tiny subatomic world beyond worlds that lied beyond the reach of any mortal, beyond the sight of science.

“What do you want to show me?” She muttered under her breath.

In her hand, she gripped tightly the handle of the steel and on the very millisecond her eyes caught sight of the slightest hint of those vibrating strings – she would proceed to extend back her stance before striking forth at the precise location her eyes had locked on to.

The fierce vibration of the steel in her grip would clash violently against the miniscule vibrational energies of the strings on these planes far below. Within milliseconds, exploding into a bizarre cloud of cosmic mist that sprayed in all directions.

From the hidden depths of this mist – came forth these monstrous claws rising from the nothingness.

The boney fingers of this furious gigantic creature grabbed straight onto Weiss’ neck, catching her off guard as its demonic rageful strength dragged her downward to the gravity of the planet, flinging the rapier she held away from her hand.

The creature growled on in the silence of space, all the way until they began entering the outer rings of the planet’s atmosphere and catching fire. From there, she would be able to hear its slobbering foul odor emanating from those long grotesque jaws of a crocodile-like beast. Its reptilian eyes sparkled with evil hatred of an inner desire to devour and destroy.

Most peculiarly, however, was the fact that the beast did not have any legs, instead only a torso with two absurdly long arms and what looked to be a scaly tail wagging from behind. This monster was bizarre – but its colors and behavior were absolutely unmistakable.

This was a Grimm.

Where did this creature even come from? Weiss thought to herself as the Grimm’s claw tried to dig into her invincible skin. She had never seen anything like this before in her life. Of course, there were numerous crocodilian species of Grimm on Remnant, even ones of Kaiju status. But none of them had a biology like the beast here before her.

No time to question, she told herself while simultaneously extending her hand toward the rapier floating away into deep space. With the power of her overwhelming gravitational field, Weiss would pull the metallic blade back into her palm before swiftly stabbing the Grimm straight into its two eye sockets in one swift motion, instantly rupturing its brain and skewering its eyeballs.

Throwing the carcass into space, she wiped off the black goo from her uniform before her ears began picking up loud shouting noises of her Atlesian soldiers far down below.

They were coming from the direction of Ghost’s platoon.

“OPEN FIRE!”

All around the soldiers, tiny portals began bursting open from thin air, emerging out of the nothingness that was hidden behind the rubble of the ruins all around them. From behind the broken doors and walls and behind the shadows of the mountain came forth massive beasts of Grimm, many of which the soldiers had never seen before in their life.

Everything ranging from tall wolves slithering with their snake-like bodies to large Grimm spiders darting about using massive bat wings. The soldiers readied their rifles and shot down as many as they could, but the size of these creatures was unlike any of the Grimm they had ever faced before. Their skins were much sturdier, soaking in several massive rounds before they would collapse on the ground, with a couple of bullets even bouncing off as if they were made of metal.

Several giant crow-like Grimm soared far into the sky before swooping in to attack the Atlesian warships head on using their hard single curved horn on top of their skulls, stabbing clean through the sheets of metal protecting the ships.

“Maintain formation!” Ghost ordered before pressing on his earpiece, “Lieutenant General Sky, deploy the Paladins, now. Over.”

“Roger that. ETA one minute, over.”

“ON YOUR LEFT, GHOST!”

With a swift diving punch, Oliver came in gouging out the brain of a multilegged bear Grimm, instantly disintegrating it into a bloody pulp from his vibrating cyclone fist. Not wasting an opportunity for a big smile at his teammate, winking mischievously.

“It’s no fun when you’re not trying,” said Oliver.

Looking at the brute standing on the mountain of corpses and bones flexing, Ghost would roll his eyes so hard his eyeballs might as well have fallen out of his head. Amplifying his hand with his golden Aura, he threw forth a sharp motion – instantly shooting out a moon-shaped disc to obliterate a whole line of Grimm approaching from afar. The Aura was so sharp it cracked the very ground they were standing on, slicing the dirt and stones beneath in a clean straight line.

“Clear out the Grimm,” he ordered, “we need to find the source of these portals, and seal them up. Fast.”

Coming in from the distance was Lisa, sliding down stylishly with her fiery mechanical boots, and her boxing tapes soaked in Grimm’s blood.

“More Grimm pouring in from the eastern side,” she said, “but their number seems finite. We’re not getting any more portals.”

Without warning, Diamond joined in the conversation from their earpieces:

“Strategic attack. Valeans. Possibly the mark of General Goodwitch. She is powerful, but she understands guerilla warfare. Over.”

“Yeah, yeah, you can talk strategies all day long,” said Oliver, “but the real question is where did they get the Grimm? And where are they even hiding? How are they creating these portals?”

“Could this… be Ozymandias’ Semblance?” Ghost pondered.

Before the four of them could finish their conversation, a blinding flash of white light would swoop past them all, flying from far above in the highest of highs beyond the stratosphere. Like that of a holy angel descending from forces on high to declare judgement upon the demons far below.

She sped by so fast, the four of them would immediately realize that all the Grimm forces had already been vaporized before they could even blink. Smashed to a pulp by an inhuman strength of a divine guardian standing watch, feet firmly above the ground.

“He’s hiding in a different dimension,” Weiss crossed her arms, scanning about. “Hiding alongside his inner circle perhaps? This must be what the General wanted to show me.”

“Chancellor?” Ghost approached from behind.

Weiss glanced back, pointing her finger:

“Secure the area. Set up a perimeter and establish camp.”

“But Chancellor,” said Lisa, “what about the portals?”

“This was a scouting group, nothing more,” she answered. “They won’t be back, for now. In order to even open a single portal requires an extraordinary amount of energy that is not easy to come by. Go! I’m going back to the Valley.”

With those final words, she took off into the sky – and the ground beneath rumbled from her divine strength.

But far in the distance, behind the dust of the rubble and in the crowd of soldiers and Knights – Blake Belladonna would quietly slip into the shadows, behind a tall brick wall, and there she spoke into her earpiece:

“Watts – did you catch that?”

“… Yes, I heard. This is an interesting development. We can use this. Return to the Academy, my friend. We may have just leveled the playing field.”

“What about the hair sample?”

“Forget about that. New plan. I think I may have what we need to kill her now. Be careful when you get back. My tech is good, but her hearing range is absurd. Try not to make a sound.”

Back at Professor Watts’ office, deep in the silent dark halls of the cold infrastructure, there came a peculiar guest from lands far away visiting the aging Atlesian man. Almost as if two old friends were reuniting for old times’ sake.

“How is your lady?” Watts asked, pouring from a glass bottle his old Mistralian Whiskey, a treasure he dared only bust out on special occasions.

Because sitting before him was none other than the esteemed Tyrian Callows. Founder and CEO of CalVis Corporation, the largest conglomerate in the entire kingdom of Mistral, in charge of a huge section of its industries – most notable in the production of bizarre experimental war machines.

The man sat there on Watts’ couch in his sleek purple suit, crossing his legs as he graciously received the old Whiskey, downing it all in one gulp while also proceeding to lick the bottom of his glass. He grinned a devilish smile at the professor, wiping his lips, before slicking back his smooth dark hair draping over those killer purple eyes.

“This is some good stuff, Watts,” he said, almost cackling. “My wife never lets me near any of these when we have dinner. Can you imagine that? Queen of Mistral, and it’s me we’re talking about. I use my money as toilet paper. And the hag is still stingy as fuck.”

“Tale as old as time then,” said Watts.

“It’ll all be worth it in the end when I find that mountain.”

“Yes, speaking of which. We just had word of Ozymandias’ whereabouts…”

“See? What did I tell you? I’ve been telling you about all these old books and myths, but all you wanted to do was stick your nose in science and crap. Now you know I was right all along. Thank you, Tyrian. You’re welcome, you old fart.”

“Yes, yes. You are the best, no one can compare. Now shut your peasant mouth up and focus up. Because I’m going to kill the Superman.”

With that, Tyrian spat out his second glass. Before glancing behind his back, as if to make sure they weren’t being listened in.

“My technology can make our voices hard to pinpoint,” Watts reassured him. “We ought to be careful, but these machines are powerful. You can relax – for now at least.”

“You’re talking crazy, old boy. You can’t kill the unkillable. But I like that, I like a little crazy. Just… with good timing. That’s what people don’t get. We all gotta pick our fight, but more importantly is picking our time.”

“It’s no less crazy than the idea of a mountain of Giants.”

“Giants are recorded in myths, myths are known. We know about the Seasons, the concepts. But that flying – thing. We know very little about what that thing actually is.”

“I know exactly what she is.”

“You do?”

“I do, but I am only human. If we are going to do things only gods can do, we need to work together. All of us, even those unaware. Like Ozymandias.”

“You want to involve him in our plan?”

“No, I merely want to use what he’s given us. He’s hiding in an alternate universe. How he’s doing that is irrelevant. What we know now is that the multiverse exists. It’s not just a theory anymore. It’s real!”

“I must admit, Oz is one crazy son of a bitch.”

“We can use this. There are an infinite number of worlds out there. So many possibilities, brimming with hidden cosmic potential.”

“Blah, blah, blah, come on, Watts. Give me something good. What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll give you the technology you need to open a portal to the mountain.”

“No strings attached?” He glared while tossing his glass behind his back.

“None. I could not care less what you want out of the Seasons.”

“I want to fight them.”

“There we go. What happened to Mister ‘can’t-kill-the-unkillable?’”

“The Superman has no weakness. So there’s no point in trying, it’s boring,” Tyrian took another glass out of Watts’ cupboard, before downing even more of the Whiskey. “Plus have you seen her talk? You watch her on TV and you’d think you were listening to a block of ice. No, thank you. If you wanna do something boring, knock yourself out. The Seasons, on the other hand, ho-ho. Now that’s going to be fun. That Rose kid especially.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Don’t brush me off, Watts. You and I aren’t so different. Just a couple of guys trying to reach into the worlds of Heaven. Biting off way more than we can ever chew. But that’s living.”

“Hmm… well, it is getting late, so please – send my regards to the Queen.”

Chapter Text

Professor Watts had given Tukson some instructions for a little library located far in the depths of the Valley’s metropolitan area. This was not a difficult task all things considered, especially when the Professor had provided him with a fake passport in case he were to run into any of the patrolling units.

The human soldiers were a cakewalk, because they were fallible and could be fooled. The Knight models, however, and other similar patrolling drones had access to a large police database, and on top of that was the fact they were recording everything they saw whenever they were online, so the best course of action was to avoid their paths entirely.

Five years of the kingdom’s rapid transformation from its older ancient magical roots to the industrial might of the Empire certainly gave Tukson a stinging culture shock. He still remembered the old wild days of the Valley with loose local laws where skilled men and women would be out there keeping peace and resolving the problems of the people with magic duels. Fighting off scoundrels and criminals with their own powerful Semblances. There really weren’t a lot of regulations if any at all concerning what was permissible.

At least, this was what Tukson remembered more on the smaller towns and self-contained regions. The God King Oz still had great control and tyranny over the capital and its people, but elsewhere the magick of the people was potent enough to make their own laws of the lands.

There were no patrols, no registrations, no licenses, no androids roaming the streets. Especially with the fact that local schools and Huntsmen Academy were producing mercenaries and private gunslingers rather than full-blown official servicemen. This was not the case the deeper you went into the heart of the Valley, of course, which was where the capital was, and where Beacon Academy was first built. The school famous for being the second largest military in the world.

Perhaps this was part of the reason why Oz’s kingdom fell to the hands of the North, for the foe they faced was fully militarized, and they were absolutely unrelenting. In Tukson’s heart, he still remembered those days, however.

The days of brave valiant warriors of the Valley standing up against a power beyond their imagination. They wore no badge, but they were among some of the most powerful Huntsmen this planet had to offer.

Sneaking into the shadows and slipping behind this clean white intersection, Tukson would find himself in the darkness of the bricks that once remembered the distant past. There he remembered children hiding from behind barrels and crates to watch their Valean heroes fight with nothing but heart and skill. His daughter was also among those children who once stood right here in this very back alley.

He thought of her sleeping safely back at their hideout as he approached the old library hidden in the dusty corner lit up by a single dim night light hanging far above. The faded mahogany of the entrance was signal enough for Tukson to realize that the Atlesians had not yet been able to renovate this whole area. But another possibility he considered was the fact that they may not have even known of this place’s existence. Which seemed farfetched until he remembered what King Oz and his inner circle were infamous for.

World-shattering illusion magicks.

Entering through the surprisingly unlocked front door, Tukson was greeted by the sight of what seemed like a small bookstore rather than an actual library. It felt oddly familiar to him, somehow, he wasn’t entirely sure why. But he quickly let it slip his mind the moment his eyes caught the sight of an old gentleman standing behind the front reception counter. He wore a simple blue apron and white shirt, and his bald head and white mustache ultimately made him come off as completely unremarkable.

That was, if it wasn’t for his strangely vacant eyes that never seemed to blink as Tukson approached.

“Hello, welcome to the Library of Street 8. Please, help yourself to whatever you fancy.”

Briefly glancing about the place, Tukson noticed half the shelves were strangely empty, with the other half being filled with simple colored books with generic titles that seemed too plain to have been legitimately published. Certain books being titled ‘Cooking Volume 1’ or ‘Dancing Volume 3’ all scattered about, unorganized. The hardback covers on each of them seemed brand new, as if nobody had ever opened them before. And yet the dust and grime covering the surface would suggest that they had been sitting here on these wobbly wooden shelves since perhaps even before the invasion.

“I’m looking for someone…” Tukson said plainly.

“Oh? Not something? Business hasn’t been kind, with us all the way out here. It’d be really nice if you could borrow or buy something. I’ll slap on a big discount.”

“What do you mean by ‘us?’ Are there others around?”

“Why, yes. I run this place with my family, sir. They are plenty.”

“Hmm…”

“Is… there something wrong?”

Tukson glanced around, making sure they were not being watched, before he finally spilled it:

“Alright, you can drop the act. You don’t have to pretend around me. Professor Watts sent me here to talk to you. It is urgent. We need to talk.”

With that, the old man’s faint smile instantly faded away, and instead his eyes would strangely shapeshift into a sharp shade of green. And from there a smirk emerged.

“Finally, that old fart better have some good news.”

To which, Tukson nodded.

“I didn’t realize he would let a Faunus be privy to our plan.”

“Well, three Faunus actually, two of us are back at headquarters. We are all members of the White Fang, or what’s left of it anyway.”

“Ah, yes. I’ve heard of you. Shame what happened. But let’s not dwell on that, welcome aboard. The more the merrier.”

“I never caught your name. The Professor wouldn’t say.”

“Doctor Bartholomew Oobleck, Chief Torturer under the God King Ozymandias. At your service.”

Tukson’s eyes grew to three times the normal size the moment he heard the old man utter that name. The infamy of the magicians in the Emerald King’s court could not be understated. The immense power of the King’s military might within his generals and lieutenants was known far and wide, but what remained a deep mystery was the full extent of what was known as the magick of the kingdom.

Dr. Oobleck simply smiled on, clearly amused at Tukson’s reaction:

“It’s been years since our home fell to the infidels. But our hearts remain strong. My power growls, hungry for food, for light out of the shadow of this alleyway.”

“And what exactly is your power?”

To that, Oobleck simply placed his finger over Tukson’s lips, shaking his head:

“Patience, my friend. There are other matters to attend to first.”

“Such as?”

Oobleck smirked:

“You want to know what the Superman is, don’t you?”

Walking toward a bookshelf in the back, Oobleck pulled from the top shelf several grimy tomes covered in small cobwebs that had been growing since a time no one could remember. These books had no titles nor markings of any kind, and tossing on the counter they would summon forth old dust bursting all over, forcing Tukson to cough uncontrollably.

“I can give you lessons,” said Oobleck. “Lessons on etymology, on philosophy, maybe even history, and context to explain how and why people started calling that woman the Superman. But I’m not going to do that.”

“Why?”

“Because people don’t believe in myths, my friend. And there are even people out there who don’t believe in magick. But fact of the matter is – I am a scientist! And the fundamental myth that makes up the foundation of the universe, or at least this universe, is the tale of the Giants. Primordial beings whose sizes are incomprehensible. Predating everything in this world, descending from a plane that lies beyond planes. Into abstract conceptual worlds of cosmic laws.”

“Okay… but what does this have anything to do with anything?”

To that, Oobleck responded with a smirk:

“Don’t you find it odd that there are no Giants left on Remnant? Except for the corpses of monsters being piloted by the creatures of Grimm? Where have the Giants gone?”

“What are you saying?”

“Why, it’s so simple I don’t know why you still don’t get it. It’s the theory of gravity, my friend. Do you believe in the forces of myths? Of stories? Of gravity? Of Destiny? These are all related. The force of gravity moves all things in the universe. But some creatures have a stronger gravitational force than others. Imagine a Giant – so large, it could easily dwarf the universe, maybe even more. Now imagine that very Giant being shrunk down to the size of a human by its inner potential, its inner force of gravity.”

Tukson’s eyes furrowed, trying to process this information:

“I still don’t understand… what about… the name? Superman?”

“If there are gigantic conceptual beings emanating their essence down into our material worlds to shape the very fabric of reality, what makes you think there aren’t other concepts up there emanating downward to shape the very fabric of our culture? Scattered across Remnant are ancient slabs marked with old prophecies. They are carved with the tongue no modern man can read. Our King Oz believed long ago that this language did not originate from this planet, but in a place far beyond. This is the emanation I was talking about. And it will be key in our quest to defeat the Superman.”

“How so?”

“Learning of the existence of the multiverse is simply the first step. The key here is understanding that there are things out there far in the depth of the cosmos. Things that we could potentially weaponize. That is how we will kill this accursed tyrannical god. It will be nearly impossible, but it must be done.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

From behind, came the quiet clapping of a tall lean man slowly emerging from the shadows. The man sported very long black hair stretching all the way down to his waist, draping over the black sleeveless long coat with blue accents he wore over his shirtless torso underneath, confidently displaying his tanned chiseled body above his long stylish black leather pants. His shining blue eyes glowed in the darkness of the library with a subtle electric flare, patiently waiting to burst forth.

Standing behind the man was his partner, another man of similar height. Standing back smoking a large cigar that lit up the face of a blond young face. Curiously, this man wore with him what seemed like a long crimson pirate coat with golden round epaulettes adorning his shoulders. On his head was a simple red bandana with subtle flowery ruby pattern woven on the surface. This young man did not smile, and instead stared onward toward Tukson and Oobleck, not blinking once, while impatiently tapping his large black boot on the wooden floor below.

The man in the black coat chuckled, and continued:

“Of course, there’s no way we’re going to let the two of you get away with any of this.”

“Who the hell are you?” Tukson readied his battle stance.

“Oh, since you’re going to die anyway, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. My name is Azur Myst,” he said as he placed his hand on the blond man’s shoulder. “This knucklehead reeking of smoke and ash is my brother, Krim Rosso. We are the sons of the Fleet Admiral Maru, and on behalf of the Atlesian Empire and those on its High Council, we hereby place you under arrest for war crimes against the good people on Atlesian soil. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say shall be revealed upon your date before the court. You have no right to an attorney, for we are tasked with bringing you back dead or alive. Here under the flag of Atlas, your crimes will be paid in full.”

The room fell silent as Tukson’s eyebrows grimaced into an expression of pure rage and hatred. Standing before him were the very manifestation of everything he stood against for all these years. The oppression and tyranny of Northern cruelty was something he held deep inside, only now to finally boil over as he had been given a fated opportunity to rightfully claim what was truthly owed.

And yet…

Before he could even bare his feral Faunus claws, a sharp thunderous roar of a giant hand cannon could be heard bellowing from across the room. The electric current of the bullet came piercing through Tukson’s skull before he could even properly process what just happened. The back of his neck began to feel cold as liquid crawled down the rough exterior of his skin.

Looking toward the man called Azur, Tukson would only now notice a special revolver drawn from the holster by his hip. He drew it so fast his eyes never even saw it coming. And that gun was no ordinary weapon either – it was a sword hybrid, with presumably a retractable blade placed on top in its current compact mode. But what was more notable was the electricity oozing out of the mechanism of the weapon, with several small cyan tubes lighting up the loading chamber of the revolver.

After stylishly spinning the revolver in his finger and placing it back into his holster, Azur confidently snapped his finger.

And the moment he did so, his brother Krim spat his cigar to the side before powering up his raging red Aura. From the palm of his right hand wrapped in boxing tapes, he would summon forth a thick metal stick sliding out of his sleeve, from which the stick proceeded to transform into a long spear with a golden burning bladed tip.

Within a split second, Krim had already prepared his battle stance grabbing on tightly to this fiery lance, charging forth at a speed Tukson could no longer keep track of – and there he would feel the full force of this man’s hidden fury when the blade pierced Tukson’s torso, crushing his entire ribcage all in one go.

The last thing he saw before losing consciousness were the sharp animalistic fangs Krim would bear for all to see, alongside a lion’s tail wagging under his long coat.

To think that his own people would willingly become an instrument for the cold tyrants of the machine he had so long opposed, there was no nightmare to equal this one he was beholding unto. A nightmare he would never wake from now that his lifeless body had collapsed on the floor.

“Well… that was easy,” Azur rubbed his hands together. “Good job, brother.”

Krim nodded, before taking out another cigar, huffing the smoke through his nose.

“Now – Chief Torturer,” said Azur, “do you have any last word? We’ll write it down for your obituary.”

Strangely enough, however, the old man did not move a muscle standing behind the counter, being obscured by the shadows of the library. What was more peculiar, however, was the fact that the two brothers could still see his devious smile shining in the darkness beyond.

Krim wasted little time and immediately picked up his spear to once more drive it forth into Oobleck’s torso. His eyes, however, instantly lit up in confusion the moment the blade phased through his body like that of a ghost. It was as if his flesh were made out of a thin layer of fog, and yet the image of the man was still there.

Azur’s cocky smile had been firmly transformed into a serious expression now that he realized the level playing field was shifting. So there, he laid his hand on the holster a second time, ready to fire the moment he saw anything coming toward them.

What he did not foresee, unfortunately, was the strange green liquid dripping from the ceiling. This mucus-like substance slowly made its way down from the old wooden floorboards far above their heads, leaking through the cracks in between.

“You should know better to challenge a man from the God King’s court. Master illusionists and magicians of the Valley.”

From behind the green goo came a slender figure with spiky green hair and a pair of round spectacles obscuring the crazed sparkling emerald eyes of a man in a sharp olive tailcoat dangling upside down from where the liquid was coming from.

His cold breath came muttering near Azur’s ear. As he, for some inexplicable reason, could not take his eyes off the old man at the counter. Who slowly, but surely, removed his face off his head, almost as if he were wearing a skin mask. But it was no mask, the flesh on his body seemed completely real, melting away from the structure like melted candles, and what was more was the fact that the ripping of his face made absolutely no sound.

And underneath the thick skin of the old man was the face of that same spiky-haired man in spectacles.

From the back of the bookshelf far behind the counter came a rattling noise as the remaining books on the top shelf shook themselves off, dropping to the ground. From behind the books, at the back where there should be nothing but the wooden board, a pair of arms would emerge. Followed shortly by two legs, and eventually, the lanky limbs covered in beautiful expensive garments pulling its torso out of the back of the shelf to reveal that very same spiky-haired man once again.

The three figures smiled at the two brothers, as they both struggled to comprehend what was going on.

“We’re taking back our kingdom, TODAY.”

At the core of every drop of green liquid emerged these subtle sparks that grew and grew, eventually converting the goo into small bursts of flames. Azur noticed that the liquid was not really ignited, instead it was literally transforming.

Before they knew it, the fire grew, and grew, and grew and grew, and from two drops next to two, into through the true dark beyond – the entire building caught fire and exploded.

“Rear Admiral Vester, reporting for duty,” Ghost saluted as he entered Weiss’ tent.

“At ease, soldier,” she said, glancing back down at the paper reports.

“Early sensor systems report Vacuan troops mobilizing from Coquina. Scouts estimated they will arrive in approximately one day.”

“Hmm, they seem to move fast. I think we should set up a base up north on Patch. Our target should be the supply line in Feldspar. It shouldn’t be hard with my speed, but we need to be cautious of what Oz is capable of. His magick is unpredictable, so we need to advance at a steady pace.”

“Sound assessment, ma’am. We will need at least half of the fleet we have here on the side of Mt. Glenn. To ward off the pirates and the rebels. They shouldn’t be a big problem compared to Vacuo’s larger forces, but they should not be underestimated either.”

“Simple enough then. Splitting the fleet in half. I’ll leave the logistics in your capable hands.”

“Thank you, Chancellor. Now there’s the matter of…”

“HIGH CHANCELLOR!”

A soldier barged into the tent, sweating from having run a good long distance.

“I apologize for the intrusion,” he said, “but there’s something you have to see.”

Using her super senses and vision, Weiss glanced into the far beyond. And to her absolute shock, she saw something that seemed to defy all the logic of the universe.

“That’s… not possible,” she muttered.

Flying out of the tent and straight into the crowd of soldiers still settling down and building this outpost, Weiss would find herself flying into the middle of two soldiers brawling as many others gathered around to witness the commotion. Some were trying to break up the fight, and a small minority was cheering loudly in the back. But with Weiss’ overwhelming strength, it took little effort to get in between the two of them, tossing both onto the ground.

“That’s enough!”

There lying on the ground, trying to dust themselves off were two young men. One of them was ordinary, and not very notable. However, the other one – was a young soldier with short white hair, smooth fair skin, and a pair of shining light blue eyes. He immediately stood up the moment he saw Weiss looking down at him, readjusting his uniform and saluting in the middle of this large gathering.

“Private Whitley Schnee, reporting for duty, ma’am.”

The moment he uttered his name, everybody in the camp started whispering amongst themselves, retreating into further commotion while Weiss floated there in disbelief. Her mind raced through many possibilities, none of them gave a satisfactory answer.

And when her own intuition could not provide that answer, she tried to recall back to those who could help her. Those who would have the knowledge.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Weiss powered up her Aura and flew off into the sky faster than the speed of light. Darting toward the direction at the heart of the Valley.

“I want to tell you a story,” Ironwood sat behind his office desk in the video recording. “I’ve been investigating this for quite some time now. But with the expansion of our Empire, it’s kind of taken a back seat as of late. Years ago, back in Atlas, a woman in one of our platoons came to me asking for a personal favor. She told me her husband named Ranger was stationed out somewhere in Mantle, far in the west. They were helping with a trade shipment coming in from Feldspar, signed by King Theodore. Things were going smoothly, until they were attacked by an unknown creature of Grimm. I had found this fact to be… odd to say the least. Considering how little trouble the Grimm monsters are for our military force. But regardless, I went out there to investigate it myself. And what I found when I arrived was bizarre, to say the least.”

Ironwood pulled up a holographic map from his desk, then continued:

“The truth is – there was no military outpost stationed there at that time. The Fleet Admiral’s troops had plans to make base, but they were ultimately forced to relocate to our eastern seas due to logistics and other pirate problems. The settlement at Mantle was under-protected, understaffed. But the one thing that was most strange to me was the fact that nobody at the settlement had ever heard of anyone named Ranger. I wanted to get to the bottom of this, so I checked in with our records department alongside consulting our other commanding officers, and this was what I found – the name that woman provided me did not exist in our database. I thought it must have been a mistake somehow, but the fact of the matter is – Atlas does not make mistakes.”

He put the map away, tapping his chin, pausing for a brief moment before resuming:

“I did consider the possibility of court-martialing the woman, but ultimately, I let it go, since it didn’t really do that much harm. It only took my afternoon to make the trip, did take a big chunk out of the airship’s fuel, though. Or that was what I thought – until three days later when I overheard a conversation from some of the privates about that same incident involving the man named Ranger. I thought little of it, until the same story was repeated by other higher-ranking officers, then among the students, the lieutenants. Before long, even Maru and General Vulf had caught wind of what was going on.”

Ironwood began typing something into his holographic computer, still speaking:

“It was strange to me how far and wide the story was traveling. But what was much stranger was the fact that there were reports coming in of a Lieutenant Ranger coming back from the settlement at Mantle by way of airship. It seemed impossible to me at the time – until the man himself stepped right out of that ship and onto Atlesian soil.”

And there – on his computer screen, Ironwood showed off the profile of none other than the one and only Lieutenant Ranger himself. A bald muscular man with a modest mustache.

Ironwood continued:

“I was lost for words. But in hindsight, I really should not have been that surprised. Professor Watts had a theory about strange phenomena such as this. He speculated that the force of gravity not only exists within all matter in the universe, but it exists in more abstract places as well, such as that of the human mind and spirit. It is said then that if enough people were to believe something to be true, even though it does not exist, but as long as they believe it hard enough and there is a sufficient amount of people – then the gravitational fields of the cosmos will literally bend the fabric of time and space and make it true.”

Weiss sat in her chair, crossing her arms with a stoic face. But Pietro was quickly able to pick up slight nuances in her expression to indicate that she was having a difficult time processing this. It was as if this was the first time in her life she had been this bewildered.

Ironwood went on:

“This is something I want you to try out for yourself. Not only to dispel any doubt you may have with the story and theory, but to also prepare you for the next recording I want to share with you, one that is very important but difficult to understand if you do not know of this strange power of belief. Pietro will now hand you a file, inside will be an empty profile with an address to an abandoned house owned by the state. Your mission is to fill out the name of this profile page and convince enough people that this name exists to the point where they become real, having them appear at the address listed. I’ll even leave their physical description blank for you to fill in if you wish. This may seem like a strange task I’m asking of you, but it is important. May the power of Atlas be with you – Weiss.”

And with that, the recording ended.

Flipping open the case file Pietro handed her, Weiss noticed what Ironwood said did not actually match what was written on the paper. While many of the boxes pertaining to what this person’s traits were had remained completely empty, there were many others that were inexplicably filled out with proper font printed from a computer. Certain things like height, weight, and eye color.

What was most concerning to her, though, was the fact that the box where the portrait was supposed to go presented her with a blurry picture of a white-haired young man whose features were difficult to fully discern. And the moment she read the name printed at the top of this sheet of paper, her eyebrows further furrowed into an emerging sense of confused concentration.

Lo and behold, the name at the top read: Whitley Schnee.

Chapter Text

Once again, Willow Schnee had fallen asleep at her desk, overworking herself with the coffee staining the entire workstation. This was, of course, not the first time this had happened. But now that she had gotten close to the answers she was looking for, there really was not much care put into anything else, like the messy uncombed hair on her that continued to spiral out into a fit of insanity.

Her hands shook uncontrollably from countless sleepless nights sitting in this secret office working the case of the mysterious stone slab. The words were close to revealing themselves, but her time drew nearer and nearer with every passing day. Downing another cup of coffee, she got to work.

And being wrapped up in her little world here, Willow had completely failed to notice Pietro standing by the door frame, coming into the room.

“Ahem.”

He knocked on the door, prompting her head to spin around.

“Pietro, what are you doing here? I’m in the middle of something here. I won’t be home for dinner.”

To that, he simply shook his head.

“You haven’t been home for weeks.”

Willow paused for a brief moment, before resuming reading the reports and research papers in front of her.

“We need to talk,” Pietro approached, “about my son.”

As soon as Willow heard those words coming out of Pietro’s mouth, she immediately stopped everything she was doing and slowly turned her head. Facing him, her eyes lit up as the pupils shot around trying to comprehend what exactly Pietro was talking about.

“You… cheated on me?”

“NO! No, no, he’s your son, too.” Pietro wiped his forehead. “I’m sorry, poor choice of words.”

“But… we don’t have a son.”

Placing a file on the table, Pietro replied:

“We do now.”

Flipping open the file, the two of them were met with a photo of the young private in his early twenties. The portrait had now, for some inexplicable reason, gotten much less blurry compared to the last time Pietro opened it.

What was more was the fact that a couple more of the boxes concerning his physical descriptions and other personal information had been further filled in with more details about his short white hair, his blue eyes, and lanky frame.

“I don’t…” Willow picked up the paper, shaking her head. “Is this what I think it is?”

In a dark somber manner, Pietro nodded his head:

“Watts’ theory. There’s no doubt about it.”

Scanning up and down the papers, Willow scrambled to her workstation, trying to decipher as much as she could. But then certain gears began spinning, and soon it became clear to Pietro that Willow was now more preoccupied with other thoughts rather than just the simple shock of them suddenly having a son. Although, that sense of confusion never really went away.

“This… explains a lot,” she said.

“What does?”

“The theory of gravity. There are multiple facets of the concept, alongside the dimensional mathematical planes of String theory. If things are truly leaking from outside the universe into our planes – then the prophecy…”

“What prophecy?”

Rushing to the other side of the table, she tossed all the other pile of papers and reports onto the floor, trying to dig though the unorganized mountain of crumpled folders, paperclips, pens, pencils, and scattered files. All the while continuing to say:

“You remember the slab I was working on? It’s said that there are potentially thousands of these scattered across the world. But so far, Atlas has only been able to acquire one of these. It’s taken me too much time to break down the language written on the surface here. But I think I have a general idea.”

“Willow, I don’t think now is the time…”

“LISTEN!” She cut him off. “I promise you, this is important. Listen to what the prophecy on the stone says. This is much more serious than any of us first thought.”

With the proper translation written on a piece of paper in one hand, Willow cleared her throat and began reading out loud:

“From the farthest stars in the sky

Further than the beyond of age primeval

There comes a hand from on high,

The hand that holds the good-evil.

The hand that holds the sand

In the sand are hands in four

One of flames, one of breathy wind

One of soil, one of cold command.

From these hands, flames descend at cosmic shore,

Palm of Giants, palm shielded in burning skin.

The palm floats from far in beyond,

Crushing the fragmented lands below the dawn.”

Pietro simply could do nothing but stand there, shaking his head. To which Willow proceeded to ignore and went on explaining:

“These stones are from a collection called the Songs of Ragnarok. It’s an old word that many scholars think is meaningless. But a select few believe some possible translations include ‘the End Time’ or ‘the Doom Time’ or anything of the like. It is said that ancient Edenites treated these stones with reverence, but that doesn’t seem to make a lot of sense, because Ragnarok is also a term used in old Northern Atlesian Sagas centuries ago, old frozen poetry. So there is sure to be a connection somewhere. What’s important to understand here is the content of the prophecy. And here, we can clearly see the stone is talking about the Seasons. That’s what the four hands are – and one of these hands will come from somewhere far in outer space to bring about the destruction of Remnant itself, that’s what the phrase ‘fragmented lands’ means.”

“Willow…”

“It’s all connected in some way, I just know it. The gravitational force of the universe is literally pulling in these cosmic powers from beyond the universe, causing there to be a leak. Maybe it is this same gravity that will be the one to bring the destruction itself, pulling in the palm of the Season. And from this so-called leak, there will come emanations of concepts and maybe even gods to shape the very fabric of our reality. That must be the origin of old lost languages like this one here, maybe even the origin of all languages and names in the world. People say that words like these have little to no meaning, and they come from an old tongue nobody speaks anymore. What if the reason why is because these are conceptual emanations that come from somewhere beyond our physical world? It just makes sense, there’s a lot more to unpack here. I haven’t even…”

“ENOUGH!” Pietro slammed his hand on the table, thus silencing the room.

Clearly, on the verge of tears, Pietro’s lips trembled as his hands similarly quivered in frustration. For a brief minute, he gathered himself, but still not entirely sure how to put it all into words. After another good long moment of silence, he sighed:

“This… all of this – you’re… you’re too deep in this obsession. I… Willow – come home, please. I beg of you. You’ve been down here for far too long. And time is running out.”

Willow clenched her fist at the mention, turning her head away.

Pietro continued:

“Don’t you get it? You’re tearing our family apart. Our daughter needs her mother. And so does our son. Out there is a boy who must be scared and confused, having been conjured to life out of thin air. He needs our help.”

“He – is not our son.” She repeated.

“Maybe we do not know him like we do our Weiss. But he is here now, and he is real.”

“Don’t you get it? I am doing all of this for us,” cried Willow. “This prophecy here speaks of doomsday, Pietro. The end of the world. Something I fear not even our daughter has the power to stop. I don’t want this world to go to ruins. We… I don’t have any more time.”

“Then let me help you! Let us help you. No matter what, we are your family. Please, Willow… come back home. Come back to us.”

Turning her face around to finally reveal an expression welling up with tears rolling down her face, Willow would quickly dive into Pietro’s embrace to feel the warmth of the man she called husband. From there she cried into his shoulder while a cough began building up from within her lungs, making it hard to speak.

“I… I don’t… want Weiss to see me like this,” she wept.

“I know, dear. I know.”

“We come from Lower Cairn,” the boy’s father told Jaune, “we have traveled far, and we thank thee for thy hospitality.”

The nomadic tribe of Kaisar were distant descendants of an ancient people of the Valley who centuries ago intermingled with travelers from the West in Vacuo. They were a people of a unique cultural identity who could often be found scattered around the foot of Mt. Glenn. It was said that those born under the name of Kaisar were Destined to be kings and rulers. Which seemed difficult to believe considering this current sect of the people seemed so passive and polite.

They wore with them some very traditional blue cotton garments fashioned together in the form of a robe with a purple sash draping over from their shoulder, all adorned with colorful red and yellow patterns of varying squiggly shapes, sizes, and complexities. On their heads were headwraps woven out of those similar garments of purple and red, all tied together to accompany full faces of big beards.

It had been several days ever since Jaune ran into the young boy and his parents in the Forever Falls, his name was Melone, and he was eleven years old. And it wasn’t long before the rest of the boy’s tribe came settling into the heart of this crimson forest, now setting up tents and communal spaces as best they could. Jaune, of course, found out afterward why exactly this was happening the moment he read the news on his phone concerning the progress of the war on the western front. Things seemed to be getting more intense as the days went by, and he was getting more anxious as well, especially with Weiss’ blade still there on the ground, still yet to budge even an inch.

Several of the tribesmen who were curious of the sword did come by trying to lift it out of the ground, some of the young men even made it a competition amongst themselves. But they would quickly realize that it was going to be a fruitless effort, so they let it be. Opting, instead, to simply build the camp around it.

“We’ve always been traveling, big brother,” said Melone, “but this, this is…”

“The war changes things,” said the father, chopping away at a tree to make space for camp. “Though there is at least some comfort in knowing the escort was carried out by the High Chancellor herself. So we weren’t super worried about being attacked. But still… it’s a lot to take in.”

The mother came by, carrying with her a heavy bucket of water. Which she almost spilled after stumbling over a rock.

“Oh, let me help you with that,” Jaune immediately came over, taking the bucket.

“Thank you so much, young man,” she smiled. “It’s a blessing to have a helping hand around here. Though, don’t overwork yourself now.”

“Don’t worry, ma’am. It’s not a big deal. I just consider all this a part of my training. I still have a long way to go. Besides, what kind of a Winter Servant would I be if I didn’t follow her commands? We’re churchgoers, you see, me and my sister. I’m pretty sure she would slap me in the face if I had gone home, ha-ha.”

“Oh, bless your heart,” she said, “we of the Kaisar tribe revere the Seasons as well. Though, we do take more from Vacuan traditions rather than the Valley. Where we come from, Spring is one we must place above all others.”

“My sister has always wanted to travel West someday. I should introduce you guys to her. I think you’ll like her, I’m sure.”

“Oh, that would be lovely,” the mother smiled.

“So, clarify something for me Mr. Arc,” said the father, wiping the sweat off his brow. “You said you’re one of the students at the Academy, correct? How come you’re not out there marching west with the rest of the troops?”

Jaune’s faint smile from there disappeared now that he was reminded of the crushing reality of where he really was, and where his friends were at this moment in time.

“I, um… well, it’s actually by the Chancellor’s order believe it or not. I was tasked with taking that sword out of the ground. But so far, it’s been a… difficult process, to say the least.”

“Oh, you don’t have to make up excuses to convince this old lady,” she smiled. “My husband doesn’t like to fight either, on the account of… well, his nerves. He’s always tried to stay out of all the wars, and for the better I’d say.”

“But… it’s not an excuse. I’m not lying, it’s the truth.”

“Hey, big brother,” Melone interrupted their conversation, “do you wanna go play some throwball with me and my friends? We could use a catcher.”

“Huh? Throwball, you say?”

In the entire history of the Atlas Empire, there had not been a sport that was more popular than that of the nation’s pastime named throwball. It was a sport with a bat and a ball. One played in a diamond-shaped field with four bases placed at the shallow infield. The goal of a batter was to hit the ball thrown by the opposing team’s thrower, which in the opinion of many scholars and experts, was the single most difficult skill to accomplish in the history of sports itself.

Once the ball was hit, the batter would try to make their way onto the bases, going in a counterclockwise motion around the field. And if he or she were to touch the base from where originally started running from, aptly named the home base, after touching all the other three bases beforehand, the team would score one run. The opposing team’s defenders, of course, would try their best to prevent this. Spreading out across the grassy field, trying to catch the ball, and throw the runners out before they could reach the bases.

Traditionally, the game used to be played with a leather glove on one hand for the fielders in order to aid them in catching the ball. But with the development of the sport to allow the usage of Aura to enhance one’s physical attributes, gloves were no longer necessary. As the players now possessed the reflex, dexterity, athleticism, and gravity required of them to field the small white ball properly in the palm of their hands.

The game was often slower, and more methodical compared to other sports. Usually involving many advanced player statistics and metrics to form a cohesive strategy. It was also considered a game of failures, as a batter would already be considered a superstar if they were able to successfully hit the ball just thirty percent of the time. Making contact with the ball could happen often, but it was making good contact with the ball and getting safely on base that was the real issue. The advantages were heavily skewed in favor of the throwers with the way the game was designed, especially considering how elite throwers had been known to be able to hurl at speeds as high as a ludicrous 1500 miles per hour. Launching from the hand like a catapult, the ball would often pop like the sound of a massive cannon’s blast zipping through the atmosphere, setting the air ablaze.

The forces behind the game and the laws of physics simply did not want the batters to succeed. So when they do, the people of Atlas would soon realize they were witnessing something special.

Or this case, this something was a brave legend by the name of Rredd Williams. A man many considered to be the greatest hitter who ever walked this planet.

Under normal circumstances, a hitter was considered great if they were able to hit three times out of ten. But for Rredd, every single time he walked up to the field with a bat in his hands – the ball was guaranteed to leave the bat five times out of ten.

He remembered the thrilling sensation well. The cold breeze of the early summer’s light, the sweat rolling down his forehead, and the pine tar stuck on his hand gripping tightly the wooden bat, amplified by his enormous Aura reserve.

And when the ball bounced off his rustic wooden bat and the fighting spirit within carried it far into the vast blue sky above – Rredd would feel he was at home.

But that feeling had not been in his heart ever since the Empire marched into the heart of the Valley. The war efforts had put a massive halt on all major sports of both the Kingdom of Vale and Atlas. There were many years in between when a few games were organized in the middle of the year, but these games were very few and far between.

Having joined the war efforts, Rredd Williams would prove to be one of the most proficient Air Force military leaders in the entire history of the Empire, fervently serving his kingdom as best he could.

But the man was reaching his late thirties by this point in time. And every time he would fly any of the war machines the Empire had to offer, whether it being a fighter jet, or an airship – Rredd Williams simply could not help himself but look beyond into the clouds to Dream of the day he would be able to pick up the bat and ball, so he could feel the rough leathery surface and the rustic wood in the palm of his hands one last time.

Entering his office, he tossed his white service cap aside to let his shoulder-length red hair loose with all the sweat flying about. Dripping down his sharp clean-shaven face, he would notice that there were Dust particles remaining on the side of his cheek the moment he walked past a mirror.

He never even noticed his office had this mirror here installed. He figured it was because he was always too busy burying his head into the paperwork to really care. But now noticing the small wrinkles ever so slightly popping up on the surface of his fair skin, he would give a long sigh into the surface of his own reflection, shaking his head.

His green eyes began to grow weary, seeing things a lot blurrier than he used to. Almost to a point where he was beginning to see a shadow of a figure emerging inside the silver of the mirror in front of him.

“Good to see you, General Williams.”

He panicked, spinning his head around – only to have a sudden surge of elation swiftly coursing through his veins.

“General Vulf!”

She smiled at the man, before asking:

“How are you these days? Anything happened while I was gone?”

There before him, the woman stood tall in her white Atlesian uniform, except she was without her usual service cap. Instead, it was a rare opportunity to let her luscious dark hair flow about like a shimmering river in the night.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he said. “I’ve been so worried. I don’t know what I’d do with myself if you had just… well…”

“Hey, come on now. You are one of the best pilots I know. You don’t need this old lady’s guidance anymore. And besides – I have a big hard skull, so don’t you worry about me.”

“That’s… that’s good to hear, ma’am.”

“So tell me what’s going on. What did I miss? I want to know everything.”

“Oh, well, I thought I already had my secretary brief you on the war. The reports must’ve gotten lost in the mail then. I’ll send it to you immediately.”

“No, no,” Sam chuckled, “I mean what’s going on, you know, in your life? We’ve been in service for so long we rarely get a chance to just talk about things other than work, even during times of peace. How’s your girlfriend Emmy doing these days?”

“Oh… that… that’s what you mean,” Rredd smiled, breathing a sigh of relief. “Well, um… Emmy and I are engaged?”

“What? No way, congratulations. About time then, huh?”

“Yeah. I proposed not too long ago. Went out to a nice steak dinner, the usual stuff, you know? I even dropped the ring in the wine if you can believe it. My hands were shaking like hell.”

“Well, you did it, and that’s what matters.”

“Thank you.”

They both stood there, pausing for a brief second.

“Well?” She asked. “Anything else?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is that really it? You have nothing else going on? No new hobby? No visiting the folks back home? Nothing?”

“I…”

“Rredd… you’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?”

Turning to face her, he had no other choice but to respond with a simple nod.

“Even after all this time?” Sam asked.

Shaking his head, he replied:

“It’s all I can think about. My mind keeps… wandering back to the field. It’s been years, General. Of course I miss it.”

Contemplating for a moment, Sam’s eyes scanned up and down the man standing before her. Inspecting every tiny detail she could pick up in his mannerism, and even as tiny as the wrinkles in his clothes. She stood there tapping her foot for a while before turning around toward the door, waving her hand.

“Come with me.”

Stepping out of their office and onto a wide balcony, the two of them would come into the view of a shining nightlight deep in the cosmos far above, looking downward to a mortal world of Remnant. The moon watched silently with its glimmering crystal light like a dutiful sentinel, never to sleep, especially now as the world became slowly engulfed in the fires of wars that could be seen by the two Generals from miles away.

“What… are we doing out here?” Rredd asked.

Turning around, Sam simply smiled on – then quicker than the eyes could react, she reached down to her belt and launched forth a metal ball that zipped through the air at an explosive speed, directing it straight to where Rredd was standing.

From there, relying on his pure Seasons-given instincts alone, Rredd would immediately find the ball spinning fiercely in the palm of his hand, shielded by his thick layer of Aura. The sound the ball produced upon contact managed to echo so far, it took almost an entire minute before the lingering sound of the aftermath could fully be dispersed in this quiet murky night.

Standing there, Sam began to smirk:

“So you can still catch. But can you still hurl?”

Immediately shaking his head, he tossed the ball back to Sam, saying:

“I’m not a thrower, I’m a hitter.”

“Oh, don’t give me that crap!” Sam caught the ball, tossing it right back at him. “You are the Sultan, the Kid, the Bambino. The best ball player alive.”

“I haven’t thrown since high school.” He shook his head once more.

“So,” Sam crossed her arms, “after everything we’ve been through, everything I taught you, everything you’ve done. You’re just going to throw it all away? Just like that?”

“Of course not! But…”

“But what?”

“All this – they’re just going to be a distraction. And that’s not something we can afford. We have a war to fight, you have other students to teach, I have my own troops…”

“You are my only student,” Sam immediately cut him off, “always have been. I have recruits, sure. But you – you’re the only one I’ve ever cared about. So stop hesitating and show me! Unless… what they say in the tabloids turns out to be true – that you are a washed-up has-been.”

“Why are we even doing this? What exactly do you want out of me?”

“Do I really have to spell it out? I want the best pilot in the country under my command.”

Rredd stared on, almost as if confused, but seemingly more as if he was expecting something like this from the start. Sam continued:

“Look, the war – this war may be the single most important battle in the history of our Empire. With the full power of the Superman unleashed out onto the world, we have a real chance to catch King Oz and put him away once and for all. But I know… I know for a fact, as you have told me, how much you miss the game, how much you miss home. That’s really what this is all about. So use your brain, Williams. If we unleash the full force of the Atlesian might onto the West – then that’ll be one damn quick war now, don’t you think?”

Fiddling with the metal ball, Rredd did not say a word. Instead, he simply stood there, and eventually diverted his eyes toward the deep black sky far beyond where the moon was dancing. His eyes rode on the moonbeams, mesmerized by the white rays sparkling like diamonds.

“So what are you waiting for?” Sam smirked. “Are you still the best ball player who ever walked this planet? The best pilot who ever flew for the flag of Atlas? The successor of one General Samantha Vulf?”

Without another moment of hesitation, Rredd’s eyes lit up with a furious spark of his crimson Aura. From the palm of his hand, he gripped the ball tightly before curling his entire left arm and shoulder into the shape of a catapult. Bending the joints back and within a mere few milliseconds – Rredd had launched the metal ball so high up into the stratosphere, it immediately escaped the gravitational pull of the planet and planted firmly onto the surface of the moon.

The force of the ball was so massive, the two of them could see a huge crater beginning to take shape after a mere few seconds from where they were standing. Cracks on the ground forming at least a mile wide, maybe more.

Staring at the mark on the moon, Sam was beginning to feel the tides turning, as she grinned ear to ear. Soaking in the silence and the burning scent of the ball traveling all that way straight into the heavens far above.

Chapter Text

“… fighting on the western front rages on as protesters in Vale continue to make waves back at the capital. Standing out in front of the Atlesian Council to voice their displeasure of the war efforts, urging Councilman Sleet to withdraw Valean troops and students from the draft…”

“Bring our troops back home!”

“Atlesian scum!”

“Fascists!”

“Councilman Sleet? Are you really going to let one rampaging mad woman walk all over the entire Council, just like that?”

“No comment.”

“… several peaceful protests turned violent with police seemingly using excessive force…”

“These people are domestic terrorists! I stand with our fellow officers in uniform. They’re just out there doing their jobs. I don’t have a problem with any Valean, but this needs to stop. Burning down local private businesses is simply not the way to go…”

Tossing her scroll to the side, Weiss sat back down behind her desk in the middle of this tent. Staring outside through the fabric, she could see the young private standing there, waiting for his Chancellor’s command.

Tapping her finger on the table stacked with piles upon piles of maps and war reports, she decided right there and then that this was too unsightly for a proper meeting. So at the speed of light, she dashed around the room, shoving all the papers and files into their respective drawers and cabinets.

“Come in,” she called, sitting back down once more.

And there, through the entrance, Whitley entered.

Glancing about the tent with an anxious expression, it almost seemed to Weiss as if this young man had never been summoned by a superior officer before in his life. Reading his heartbeat, the rapid beating so far made sense. But there was also a certain fresh scent and sound to the way it thumped on like a cold golden drum.

“Have a seat.”

Nodding his head before a quick salute, Whitley then complied.

The two of them sat there face to face, staying silent for a short while as Weiss studied his posture and expression. Certain familiar features on his face alongside other physical descriptions definitely did match what was written in his personal profile. But there were others that were missing in the report, which Weiss had only now been able to closely examine.

“High Chancellor, ma’am,” said Whitley, “I would like to commence with any disciplinary action the Empire may have on my behavior.”

Tapping on her chin, Weiss sat there with a frozen stoic face, instantly remembering a similar line of dialogue being uttered not too long ago. She knew right there and then – this really was her brother.

Clapping her hands together, Weiss stood from her seat and leaned forward onto her desk. There she would say:

“Private Whitley Schnee. That Schnee name – do you notice anything strange?”

With a peculiar blank expression on his face, as if trying to avoid the question, he shook his head. Weiss continued:

“What is my name, soldier?”

“Huh? Oh… well, you are the High Chancellor. The Superman.”

“No!” Weiss shook her head. “What is my name?”

Dumbfounded and with his lips shaking, he carefully sat up straight before uttering from under his breath the name:

“Weiss Schnee.”

Nodding her head, she stood up tall with her feet floating off the ground, saying:

“Let us cut to the chase. You are a smart enough soldier, that’s why the Empire recruited you in the first place. So you should be able to put two and two together and figure out what is going on.”

Whitley shook his head, not out of ignorance, but simply from disbelief.

“No… how can…”

“This is the truth – you are my brother.”

A wave of new emotions immediately flooded all over his face with his eyes darting all over the place trying to look for answers in places that surely would not give him any. But he continued on doing so anyway, staring down the palm of his hands to feel the flesh and bone. Desperately trying to feel the reality of the situation.

All of it was forced on hold, however, the moment Weiss decided to walk toward the entrance of the tent. Without even looking over her shoulders, she said:

“This will be disorienting for you, but until we get to the bottom of this, you are hereby forbidden from leaving camp and will be put under special supervision until further notice. The war rages on, soldier. I must answer the call of the West, but you have the word of your Chancellor – I will be back.”

With that, she took off into the sky, flying at the speed of light.

Historically speaking, Mt. Glenn was most famous for two things. One of those was the huge complex network of caves stretching far into the depth of the stones and dirt underground. These caves were home to a enormous supply of Dust that even to this very day, the people had still yet to fully extract from. It was for this reason that mining became the standard industry around these parts. With many folks from the Valley, including the Kaisar Tribe, participating in the gathering.

There was so much Dust to go around, it was not uncommon for the Valeans to even occasionally run into folks coming in from the West in Vacuo, who also came to partake in the mining and digging. It was simple work, but heavy labor, one that yielded good profit from the sweat of the brow.

On the other hand, the second thing that Mt. Glenn was historically known for – was the demonic infestation of the Grimm monsters, lurking in the darkness.

The ancient peoples dwelling in places beyond and around the mountain had often found it frustrating in the past to deal with these dangerous creatures. But as the years went by, and warriors among the tribes and kingdoms became more and more powerful, the trouble of the Grimm creatures slowly faded away into nothing but a nuisance if one were strong enough.

And with the arrival of the Empire – the Grimm were pushed to the very brink of extinction.

Now, standing in front of the great stones that made up the foundation of this natural monument, Ghost decided to take in one final breath, breathing in the scent of the lingering Dust in the mines from afar, the moss growing all over the massive boulders, and the faint sound of tiny pebbles rolling down from a distance far above at the peak piercing into the bright blue sky.

He wanted to savor this moment, for he knew – the history of this place was about to be completely discarded, thrown straight out the window like a crumpled piece of paper.

“Hey, man,” Oliver approached.

Ghost turned his head, nodding in acknowledgment.

“We’re really going through with this?” Oliver asked.

“Our sensors confirmed the mines are empty. The rebels and pirates have all retreated to the West. It means they didn’t take any hostages.”

“Ha, should’ve just hunkered down and let it blow over. Or try anyway. It wouldn’t have worked, but at least it would’ve been a challenge.”

“We’ve already evacuated most of the Valeans living in this area. And I don’t think King Theodore is the kind to actually use his own people as war commodities. He’s a maniac, but not heartless.”

“What do you think they’re up to then? Why retreat to Vacuo?”

“Likely trying to use the harsh terrain and weather of the desert to their advantage. They will fail, of course. Because we – are Atlas.”

The moment Ghost finished his sentence, a powerful rumbling could be felt clearly at the bottom of their feet. The two immediately took this as the signal to regroup with their troops, so they quickly dashed away back to the camp in the far distance.

Here, at the foot of Mt. Glenn, a powerful gravitational Aura field began to crawl from the bottom of the rocks forming the foundation of the mountain. And slowly, but surely, the Aura would engulf the gargantuan mountain itself, stretching for miles wide, and reaching heights that could easily touch the stratosphere.

The rumbling got stronger with each passing moment. And once the overwhelming force of gravity was locked into the surface of the stone, the unthinkable began to manifest.

The mountain was being lifted off the ground.

At first, it was only a few inches at a time. But the pace at which the mountain was rising was controlled and steady. The immense force lifting this entire natural monument kept increasing in power with every passing moment, dominating the very weight of Glenn for the world to see.

The soldiers at the camp looked on in awe. The pilots on the airships far above were lost for words. And even many of the senior officers who were old enough to have seen almost everything this world had to offer, even those men and women could do nothing but stand there and take off their service cap, out of respect for the one and only being on this planet capable of accomplishing such a feat.

With the entirety of Mt. Glenn on her shoulders, Weiss would summon forth a strength unlike anything this world could ever hope to produce. Utilizing only a fraction of her full power, the Superman of Atlas carried this behemoth of a structure off, flying far into the clouds before tossing it straight into the dark depths of heavenly space. It took a mere few milliseconds before the mountain managed to disappear from sight, being dragged around like a mere child’s plaything.

Sam and Rredd had arrived at the scene where the Atlesian officers and detectives had been surrounding this crater of destruction. Buried deep behind dark alleyways, the two of them were not even aware of the existence of this library before today. And here they stood over the burnt debris and crumbling bricks that dug straight into several buildings behind, exposing layers upon layers of destroyed pipes and electrical wirings all scattered around as the firefighters and officers worked to subdue the remaining source of flame from this explosion.

Walking straight through the holographic police tape, the two esteemed generals glanced about the area as they approached the investigating officers still digging through the smoldering bricks and concrete.

“General Vulf, General Williams,” three officers saluted the moment they saw them approach.

“Report, soldier,” said Rredd.

“Nothing on the security footage, and nothing conclusive from our other sensors. It’s an abandoned building. Nobody’s been here for a while, or at least that’s what the record shows.”

“This is a library?” Rredd asked as he flipped through the report files. “Is it state owned?”

“Privately owned, sir.”

“Who’s the owner then? Can they be contacted?”

“The owner died years ago, sir,” the officer shook her head. “He had no family to speak of, no relatives. Frankly, we’ve hit a bit of a dead end.”

“Williams!” Sam called him from afar, waving her hand. “Come and take a look at this.”

Rredd nodded his head to the officers, dismissing them, before he ran to where Sam was investigating, crouching over a large section of a broken wall.

Peculiarly, there, stuck underneath the charred surface of the hard stone – was a bizarre green gooey substance.

“Is… that what I think it is?”

Sam nodded. Eyes now widened as the two of them realized who they were truly dealing with. Not wasting another moment further, Sam immediately stood up, walking away from the ruins as she spoke into her earpiece:

“Lieutenant, come in – deploy the Skyknights to the western front. It’s urgent, the Superman will need the full might of Atlas. Send two suits to my coordinates as well, over.”

The ancient peoples of ages past would often take days, maybe even weeks to traverse the massive lands connecting these continents. The vastness of the plains and the desert was not something that could easily be conquered by mortal men.

But in the modern age of machines and new power, the Atlas Empire now possessed the strength and stamina required to cross the plains and mountains, over hills and seas to then reach the border of the western Kingdom. Carrying the massive and heavy war machines alongside its troops, traversing the harsh terrain. In this current state – the entire trip will now take no more than a day.

The strength and speed of the Atlesian Empire were things that could be understood. What was much more difficult to explain, however, was the fact that the army of the West had managed to fully retreat back into their sandy worlds, implying that they were also operating at a similar level of speed.

Perhaps it was by the power of King Oz’s magick that they were able to match the raw output of the cold Atlesian machines. Now that they knew King Oz possessed the power to travel between the cosmos, the fabric of space itself should not be a challenge for him to bend to his will if he ever felt the need for it.

That was something Weiss understood very much, flying far in the sky as the army followed down below. She realized the power of this God King was increasing with every passing day. Or perhaps the true revelation was the realization that perhaps the King had always been this powerful – and only now was he starting to show his hands.

There in the distant horizon, standing in the middle of a seemingly empty desert plain, stood a single shadowy figure in a hooded cloak.

Using her super vision, Weiss scanned through the cloak to find the face of a man with spiky green hair and pale skin. She did not recognize him, or perhaps she simply could not remember such a face. But there was a certain sinister invisible aura surrounding his very being that made her cautious approaching from above.

Landing in front of this lanky man, she hovered there a few feet above him, crossing her arms.

“Are you from Vacuo, stranger? Leave this place at once. I, Chancellor of Atlas, am leading the Empire into the West. I do not wish to harm you, but you have been warned.”

Strangely, the man responded to the sentiment with a wild chuckle, removing his cloak, his grin was there on display for Weiss to clearly see.

He said:

“I’m disappointed you do not remember me. Five years really is that long of a time, huh? I would think you’d still have files on us fugitives.”

Now with his face in the sunlight, a flood of memories came back to her. The man standing before her looked sicklier than ever, his pale skin and yellow teeth made him almost unrecognizable. But now that the light had revealed this oddly fiendish visage, there was no mistake about it.

“Oobleck, Chief Torturer.”

“At your service, milady,” he said as he bowed.

Far in the distance behind them, Ghost’s platoons were a mere few minutes behind, approaching alongside the full Atlesian might of the Empire, carrying thousands of soldiers and Huntsmen on tanks, jeeps, and trucks. The airships far above were not far behind either, as were the numerous gargantuan aircraft carriers and dreadnoughts. Though, without Weiss’ advanced vision, it would be difficult for a layman to see them all the way out there at sea.

And yet, even so far away, the atmosphere was burning with the militaristic rage of an immovable force of steel, one that had never known true defeat.

“High Chancellor, come in. Your orders, ma’am, over!” Ghost shouted into his earpiece as the engines of the machines roared in the back.

“She’s over there,” Oliver pointed his finger, “just standing there.”

“Rear Admiral, come in!” Diamond’s voice echoed through the comm system on the jeep they were driving.

“Give me a head count, Lieutenant General. How many troops are we dealing with here? Over.”

“Sensors aren’t picking up anything. Must be illusion magick interfering, over.”

“No troops? Just the one man?” Ghost glanced around, scanning the desert.

“Something feels off. I don’t like it,” said Oliver. “I’m going ahead. The Chancellor may need our help.”

“Oliver, NO!”

Before he could even stop him, Oliver had already leapt far into the sky, boosting himself in the direction where Weiss was standing, leaving behind a trail of powerful wind.

“Dammit,” Ghost clenched his fist, before reaching for his earpiece, “Colonel Rhed, come in. I need you to scout the areas ahead, you’re faster on foot than our war machines. Have a look around and report back, over.”

“Roger that, I’ll keep an eye on Oliver, too. Over.”

And there, in the distance Ghost could clearly hear the rushing fiery sound of Lisa running through the sandy plain at a speed faster than sound, furiously lighting the sand on fire.

“You hear them coming, don’t you?” Oobleck asked.

“You have a total of five seconds to tell me where Ozymandias is before I toss you into the sun,” said Weiss.

Shockingly, to that, Oobleck simply responded by spitting in her face. She managed to dodge it with her speed, of course, but the furious rage in his eyes was apparent for her to see, burning beneath the scorching sun far above.

“The God King shall reign again!”

From beneath the surface of the sand came this strange green gooey liquid that shot out of the ground like that of an old geyser. The speed at which it traveled was ludicrous, faster than most things Weiss had come to know. But it was nothing compared to her own level of power. So there, without hesitating, she held her hand forth in an attempt to destroy this sickly liquid with her overwhelming Aura.

And yet…

The green gooey liquid remained completely unharmed by the crushing force of her gravitational field, as it continued to travel upward to where Weiss was floating – completely passing through her entire body, almost as if it were a spirit or a ghost.

Within seconds, the liquid would transform into a large blob to surround Weiss in all directions, not letting her escape from this bizarre substance that swiftly engulfed everything in her vision. It did not seem like this green liquid was doing any damage to her, yet. But she was not able to destroy it either on the account of it being intangible. There were no atoms that could be seen as she scanned the liquid, nothing to discern from the chaotic way it moved about.

And there, within just a mere few seconds – Weiss had disappeared.

“What the fuck?” Oliver shouted through everybody’s earpieces as he dashed forth.

“Colonel Rhed, come in!” Ghost cried. “Status report.”

“She’s gone. The Chancellor’s gone!”

“What about the man?”

“Still there, he hasn’t moved an inch,” she said.

“Diamond, deploy the Knights and Paladins at once, prepare the artilleries and airships. We need to be prepared for whatever comes next,” said Ghost.

Far in the distant sand hill where Oobleck was standing, the man proceeded to reach inside his breast pocket to pull out a tiny golden watch. It pointed exactly at noon, the highest point of the sun, where the heat was strongest. Smiling, he put it back inside and got on one knee to place one hand on the sand below.

The ground began to inexplicably rumble, shaking with a force from a place and age unseen by everybody walking above. It almost felt as if the entire crust of the earth itself was a giant beast with its belly growling from a hunger spanning thousands and thousands of years.

And sure enough, from the sand came forth a growling evil creature too massive and almost too baffling to be considered real. So dense and heavy that its very existence seemed to be twisting the very laws of nature itself.

A giant scorpion – Death Stalker, disaster status: Kaiju.

Its two pincers sprang forth from the sand, easily the size of two entire airships on their own. And from behind, its gargantuan tail emerged to expose the grotesque golden stinger oozing with indescribable green venomous goo that hungered for the death of those who dared approach. Its white exoskeleton shined bright like a knight’s armor, despite the dirt from beneath the ground, covering large parts of its black demonic body in a shell that seemed harder than steel, one that was almost certainly unbreakable by conventional means.

The mere rumbling of this creature felt like earthquakes, numerous giant legs like pillars sprouting from the sand to smash through the crust below. But in the end, what was most peculiar to Ghost was there beyond, up on a tall hill over to the western side of this desert – came shadowy figures obscured by the searing sunlight of their country. From the shades they now emerged, revealing themselves to the Atlesians the true might of the Kingdom of Vacuo.

The Sandriders of Coquina.

Elite scorpion riders of the West, making for the most powerful cavalrymen this world had to offer. And leading the pack was none other than the one and only Sun Wukong.

There he sat on top of a beastly brown scorpion, with his signature staff in his hand, he raised high into the sky light to pronounce far and wide the shout of a brave breath buried deep in the heart of the West:

“TODAY! We destroy the North! CHARGE!”

This musty dark tavern by the side of the road did not see many visitors in its days, and the reason for that was very much deliberate. Hidden away on a long winding abandoned road connecting Vacuo with Coquina. One would almost have to be searching for it to even find this old wooden shack placed behind rugged rocks and old roads that had not been maintained for years.

Inside the building was the owner of the establishment, who wasn’t even working anywhere near the front counter. Instead, she sat there in the backroom on the wooden floor, sharpening her crimson blade with her one remaining hand.

For Raven’s other hand had been taken from her at sea that fateful day, the one day she will never forget.

Sitting there in her undergarment wearing nothing but thick bandages coating the wounds on her chest, Raven let out a long sigh as she continued to meditate in this dimly lit room. The candles in front of her, though numerous, were still too weak to be a strong light in the dark, a saving light.

She held up her blade, trying to examine the sharp edge of the weapon. But what she found inside the reflection of the steel was the image of a figure standing behind her.

This was baffling to her, because she never saw the person enter the room, nor did she hear any sound alerting her of their presence. Instead, it almost felt as if this young man had simply materialized out of thin air.

Standing behind her, this young man held his gigantic mechanical scythe pointing the barrel of the sniper rifle straight down at the back of Raven’s skull.

Smiling in the shadow, Rubio Rose emerged.

“Long time no see,” he nodded.

Raven’s expression remained stoic, hiding a serious sense of rage and self-defense, and yet, somehow deep down she recognized the person she was dealing with was not to be underestimated.

She knew that if they were to fight – the results would be catastrophic.

“Summer’s spawn,” said Raven. “Let me guess, you’re here to learn about your mother, the God of the Hunt. Let me just save you the trouble and tell you I know nothing of the heavenly planes, so why don’t you just kindly fuck off?”

“Sheesh, a simple ‘hello’ would’ve been better.”

“My braindead brother may have taught you everything he knew, but you’re still dealing with the Pirate God here. So why don’t you be a good little boy or girl or whatever the fuck you are and point that rifle away before you hurt yourself, okay?”

“You know, even though we aren’t related by blood, I’ve always wanted us to still be family. Uncle Qrow is family, so I don’t see why you couldn’t be.”

“What are you implying?”

Rubio shrugged:

“Nothing. You were like an aunt to me, or a second mom, and that’s the truth.”

“So what? You want a kiss goodnight? Some allowance?”

“I’m just here for a little chat is all. You’re smart enough to realize I’m looking for my mother. So why don’t we just sit down and talk about your Semblance?”

The moment he finished his sentence, Raven turned her head around to face the young man. With her hand still clutching the handle of her sword, ready to strike.

Rubio continued:

“I just need to know what your portals can really do. It won’t take long, I promise. Once that’s done, I’ll be out of your hair.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then we’ll start fighting and I’ll cut you in half in less than a microsecond, it’ll be such a mess, though. Neither of us wants that. I can even tell you about my ability to see the future or how I can move faster than thoughts can travel, but you’re not gonna believe me anyway, so why bother? Seriously, Raven. Don’t be such a hard-ass. We’re family, so throw me a bone here, okay?”

Chapter Text

“Chief Torturer! What is this place?”

There in the distance, she could still see clearly that the Coquina Sandriders were bolting down the hills of sand, numbered in the thousands. All carrying with them rifles and blades coated with their own thick layers of Aura.  Others rode on the back of these giant scorpions, crushing large crystals of Dust in the palm of their hands to ignite powerful bursts of elemental powers, ready to strike.

And there beside them was the gigantic beast crawling with each heavy rumbling step toward the approaching army of Atlas.

Weiss could see all of this, and yet for some reason, her vision seemed darker somehow, filtered with strange colors that made it feel as if nobody on this battlefield could actually see her floating there, to the point she might as well not even exist.

“Step into my office,” Oobleck grinned, standing in the middle of the desert as the Vacuan troops sped past him, showing off his intangibility and invisibility to those around him.

Noticing this, Weiss immediately floated over to those same Vacuan troops that went dashing by, and true enough – she was also intangible to the soldiers. None of them could see her in her current state.

“You are not a general,” said Weiss, “and yet, you possess one of the strongest abilities among the ranks of Oz’s circle.”

Oobleck chuckled:

“The God King hides more secrets than even some nations, daughter of the North. Now come face me, tyrant! Let me feed.”

There was something utterly bizarre about the way he looked, with the shimmering emerald eyes of something that was decaying, rotting into a being that was hardly recognizable as being human. He wore a suit, a dashing tailcoat, like that of a civilized man. But his pale skin spoke of secret stories that had not been revealed for perhaps centuries past. An emanation of something more, something outside the cosmos, cursing him with a darkness that was vague and confusing.

What exactly was this man?

The shadow of the Grimm Giant was something so massive it could block out the sun with one single step. The beast defied comprehension and logic, casting doubt on the true hidden history of these fractured lands of Remnant.

None of that mattered at this moment, when the howling of the cannons and bombs from ships and tanks rained down from far above. A rain of a thousand flames.

The missiles traveled far and with majestic speed. But the armor of the beast coating its head, its claws, was nearly impenetrable. Grimm creatures possessed no soul, no Aura, and yet the strength of the monster was truly that of a full-fledged Giant.

Standing on top of the jeep with his soldiers sitting in the back shooting their rifles toward the oncoming scorpion riders, Ghost clenched his fist in a ferocious silent rage as he scanned across the desert, spotting Sun Wukong in the distance.

Riding on the scorpion, the blond Faunus held out his red bo staff, twirling it with grace and precision, before coating it with his own golden Aura. On his other hand, he reached down into his pocket to pull forth a handful of small Dust cartridges, jamming it into the weapon, before pulling out fragments of powerful elemental Dust crystals, most notable of which were gravity gems.

Two skilled men with great strength, all standing tall on top of what they were riding.

And within seconds they leapt off high into the sky at blinding speeds.

Sun now spinning his staff to have it transform into a pair of gunchucks like a blooming flower, flipping in the air as the whirling of the guns flared up in the shape of a gorgeous western cactus. And from the barrel of the guns stuck at each end of the nunchucks came fierce rain of flames to assault Ghost from all directions.

Yet, in the face of fierce fire, Ghost was not phased. With a single hand motion, he managed to slice through the wall of bullets completely, bursting them all in less than a second. There, emerging from the smoke Ghost grabbed onto the front of Sun’s face before tossing him straight down into the sand far below.

Flipping through the air, Sun regained his balance, landing on the sand to face Ghost head-on.

“You are… White Fang. Sun Wukong. I’ve heard of you.”

“And I’ve never heard of you.”

Ghost remained stoic, expressionless.

From the side of his belt, Sun reached inside his pocket to pull out a peculiar little capsule. Crushing it in the palm of his hand, he removed the broken casing to reveal inside a small mechanical-looking pill.

Recognizing what Sun was holding in his hand, Ghost’s eyes lit up in a fit of fury.

“Where did you get that?” He pointed his finger.

To respond, Sun simply smirked, uttering a single word:

“Magic.”

Sun swallowed the pill whole, and within less than a second, his body was already changing. With powerful muscles raging across his biceps, his torso, and even his legs. Not being able to contain the sizzling sting of his Aura, he tore off his shirt, tossing it away.

Putting aside thoughts and questions, Ghost readied his battle stance. But his defense was instantly penetrated when Sun dashed forth at a speed Ghost could not see, stabbing his chest with the bo staff to knock Ghost far into the distance.

Ghost’s own Aura was strong, but there were hints of it flickering at that single strike, and he too felt the impact even with the shield protecting him.

Biting his lip, the young man slammed the ground out of silent fury, before instantly powering up the palm of his right hand into the shape of a blade, with the mechanism of his golden glove unraveling from his golden ring, lighting up like starlight, and instantly flooding his entire body from head to toe with powerful electrical energies that burst forth without restraint.

With one swift motion, Ghost swung the electrical blade, driving it down like a bolt of lightning. And yet, with the speed at which Sun was moving at, it was as if the man could no longer feel any pain. Simply letting the numerous burning bolts sear his flesh, which allowed him to power through and swing his staff right at Ghost’s head.

Blocking the strike with his hand, he countered with a roundhouse kick. Which proved ineffective the moment the staff crumbled once more into the gunchucks so that Sun could create a near impenetrable lotus defense, swinging it around to counter Ghost’s flurry of powerful kicks and hand slashes.

Glancing around the battlefield, Ghost was horrified to see the thousands of Sandriders charging forth to ram straight into the tanks and jeeps of his platoons. Many soldiers got off their vehicles to brandish their blades and rifles, only to be pushed back by the insane inhuman strength of each rider, tossing around the privates like they were ragdolls.

Putting two and two together, he concluded that Sun had also distributed the pills to the Vacuans among his troops. Many of the higher-ranking Atlesian officers were strong enough to hold back some of the enemies, but the giant scorpions provided an advantage that was difficult to combat against, given their powerful pincer attacks and toxic tails.

From afar, Ghost could see Lisa dashing around, punching the Sandriders off their mounts at supersonic speeds. So with this, he was at least relieved that the members of Team GOLD could still hold their own.

Which also included Oliver leaping around to stomp the very ground they walked on, causing tremors for enemy cavalry. His wind power was rising with every passing minute, but foolishly, his attention began to turn toward the gigantic beast in the distance. Numerous Paladins were deployed from airships onto the back of the monster, walking on its exoskeleton while placing bombs and mines along the way to then later detonate. The explosion caused moderate damage against the Grimm, but not enough to knock it off balance, or even to stagger it ever so slightly.

Making the decision in a split second, Oliver took off, jumping high into the air to gather into the palm of his hand a massive vortex of wind, spinning so furiously, he produced a punch that shook the very ground and sky itself, blasting to the deep sunny sky a tower of tornado drilling straight down onto the head of the Death Stalker.

The beast roared, but still yet to yield.

“Pay attention Atlesian scum!”

Smacking the staff across his face, Ghost’s attention was drawn back to his current bout against Sun. The extra force driven by the weapon gave off the impression that Sun had been jamming Gravity Dust cartridges into the staff. And Ghost’s hunch was proven completely right the moment he saw Sun taking out even more Dust fragments to shove into the loading chamber of his guns.

Ghost realized then of his innate superiority in power, for he knew this man was only capable of matching his natural abilities when he was provided with a mountain of assistance. But that did not mean he was to be underestimated, because Sun was still clearly a cut above any ordinary fighter. Having the experience and smarts to know when to strike, and the battle knowledge for counters and offense.

And so, with utmost determination, Ghost’s eyes lit up a powerful flare of sparkling lightning, reaching deep inside to a level of effort he rarely had to force himself to – the blade on Ghost’s hand sharpened into the shape of a crescent moon, now a long sword imbued with electrical energy that could burn the very sun itself.

With this in the palm of his hand, he charged forth.

Councilman Sleet walked alongside Councilwoman Camilla, heated and furious from debate as they stopped in front of a large wooden door in this vast surprisingly empty hallway. This was a brief moment for the two to rest from the constant harassment by the press, not to mention military personnel and politicians assaulting them with ideas, concerns, orders, questions, and meetings left and right.

But a moment alone meant a moment to argue.

“I can’t believe you are siding with the insubordinate spoiled brat in a cape,” cried Sleet.

“Don’t you throw this onto me now, you were the one who insisted on that plan to lie to the public. What was it you said? To bolster the image of the Empire?”

“YES, the Empire’s image, not her image! She’s making a fool of us and the boys in marketing and PR. Not to mention it was a national secret, she should’ve been charged with treason right there on the spot.”

“Regardless of that, the Empire looks stronger than ever with the Envoy at the helm. The people feel safer when they know they have someone like her protecting them, twenty percent more to be exact according to census data. It’s what we all want at the end of the day, so don’t be such a crybaby.”

“How dare you? That woman isn’t protecting them, she is ruling over them.”

“Let us both be honest here and cut to the real reason why you’re upset.”

“Enlighten me.”

“You’re pissed off that you lost control, you lost power – you lost. Simple as that. It’s written all over your face. You just want you and the rest of your cronies to be in charge. It’s so obvious.”

“Insult me with your baseless accusations all you want. I am one of the few men on this Council who knows of the danger of a Superman. Something like that is not natural.”

“On the contrary, I think it is a completely natural evolution of the human race. To surpass our limits and reach new heights.”

“You just keep on being a bootlicker, see how far that takes you. It won’t be tomorrow, it may not even be next week, but one of these days they’re going to blindfold you and shoot you in the back against a wall. There’ll be gulags, prison camps filling up with opposing parties, and you’re a fool if you can’t see that.”

“Slippery slope, Sleet. Slippery slope.”

“I have a meeting here,” Sleet placed his hand on the door in front of him. “We’ll pick this back up some other day. But I WILL get those votes from your judges and mayors, with or without you. We’re not so different you and I, so don’t pretend you’re not also trying to get your own people into office. You’re operating in flip territories, they’ll turn on you eventually.”

“We’ll see about that. Have a nice day, Sleet.”

And with that, she walked off into the hall, disappearing behind the echoes of each step.

Waiting for the clicking of her heels to disappear, Sleet stood there patiently until he was sure nobody was around, and only then did he lightly knock on the door. It swung open in an instant – and inside, Sleet walked into a scene of secrets and schemes.

The schemes of Professor Watts, standing in the middle of his office next to the one Adam Belladonna.

He stood there wearing a black long coat with two golden epaulettes, draping it over his shoulders almost like a cape, hanging over a sharp red shirt with rolled up sleeves and a pair of black gloves. His long black pants and shiny dark brown shoes seemed fresh off the tailor’s order, woven with the highest quality this richest nation could afford. On the back of the coat there – the crimson beastly symbol of the White Fang.

Sienna Khan stood by his side, adjusting his collar and dusting off anything she could find over his shoulders to make it as proper as possible. Once done, she handed over to him the object he wore as leader of the White Fang, leader of an entire people – the white mask with intricate crimson swirly patterns, to be carried around like a crown of a king.

“Councilman Sleet,” said Watts, “so glad you could make it.”

Sleet walked forth, not even paying the Faunus any attention as he plopped himself down on one of Watts’ nearby couches, crossing his legs as if owning the place.

After a long period of tense silence of Sleet grabbing the whiskey on the table next to him, pouring himself a glass, the Councilman finally decided to acknowledge and glance over before pointing his finger at the young man, saying:

“I don’t know how you managed to pull this off, but I’m impressed. Keep this up and who knows, maybe one day you’ll find yourself on the Council.”

To that, Watts simply scoffed:

“I’m not about to give up actual power for petty politics. But enough about that, listen up. We have some pressing matters to attend to.”

“What do you have in mind?” Sleet asked.

“The war is raging on,” said Watts, “and I now have a plan to kill the Superman. But in order to do that, we’re going to need every advantage we can get our hands on. That means only one thing.”

“We have to find out who and what Weiss Schnee really is,” Adam finished Watts’ thoughts.

“Precisely. Technically speaking we already know what she is, or excuse me, I should say I know what she is. But the thing here is we do not have the context or backstory to piece together the history. There are no files on record, no archives of any kind. Not even a trace that someone was snooping around sweeping the whole thing under a rug.”

“What do you suggest we do then?” Sleet asked.

“There are no records of her history,” said Watts, “but there must be some records of recent exploits, especially in the last five years or so when the Superman was made universally known. We can start here, because there must be things that are written about her even if those things don’t exist in the Atlas’ archives. Accounts written by people from other kingdoms for instance.”

“What exactly should we be looking for?” Sienna asked.

“Anything. Rumors, news articles, some diary entries from a three-year-old child, it doesn’t matter. Any scrap of information will help us learn more about her because of the power of beliefs. Remember – the gravity of Stories and beliefs is what powers this universe.”

“Okay… I don’t really get it,” said Sienna, “but if you think it’s going to work…”

“It has to work,” Adam asserted. “There are lives at stake here. The last of our White Fang brothers and sisters, including our brother in arms Sun. He’s out there risking his life for the cause. That cannot go to waste.”

“In any case,” Watts looked over to Sleet, “I take it you’ll keep all this under wraps as best you can? That means we’ll need to travel and cross borders without interference.”

“I’ll see what I can do. I can pull some strings with the Atlesian border guards, but the Mistralians may be tricky.”

“Tyrian will assist you in that regard,” said Watts. “There are perks to being one of the richest most powerful men in the East.”

“I’m putting a lot on the line here,” Sleet tapped his finger on the table, “so this whole thing better goes without a hitch. And if the Superman somehow catches any of you in the act, I don’t know any of your asses from here to Winter, you got that? I see any of you uttering my name, I’ll shove your own tongue down your throat, and that’s a promise.”

“Heh, typical politician.”

At the heart of the desert, the battle continued to burn the sand below. Rifles and cannons roaring against the roaring of the scrambling scorpion. Blades and steel clashing against the clashing of the sparkling metal. And in the middle of it all, the spirit and Aura of Sun and Ghost flared up brilliantly beneath the emanating sunlight of noon. Two stars colliding.

Digging deep inside, Sun clapped his hand together to summon two light clones as he fell to the ground, launching the two of them into the air where Ghost was descending from.

But the lightning bolts from Ghost’s Semblance struck far and fast, dissipating the clones in a flash instant. Swinging his arm back, the blade on his hand lit up like a shooting star, before cutting at right where Sun was standing, creating a massive moon slice traveling faster than thunder’s light.

With expert precision, the slice carved up the very sandy ground beneath them, leaving perfect prints of the cut. Which under normal circumstances would’ve been splattered with the blood of the Faunus standing before him.

But here, with the help of these power pills, Sun managed to gather up enough strength to power through the cut, shielding himself with a flickering layer of Aura, clearly now nearly out of breath and out of stamina.

Clapping his hands together once more, he pushed himself to the very limit to now summon forth an entire army of light clones, numbered in the hundreds, popping into existence to wield their shimmering golden staffs. They all leapt into the air, front flipping around in formation to strike down from far above, twirling the numerous gunchucks and staffs with utmost grace.

But in the end, the beauty of this demonstration proved no match to the full power of Ghost’s overwhelming Aura, charging up the electricity within him – the energy burst forth to create a shockwave so large it managed to knock several Sandriders far in the distance off their scorpions from the force of tremors alone.

Not even Sun himself could stand on two feet now that his energy had been nearly depleted.

“I don’t know where you got those pills from,” said Ghost, adjusting his glove, “but you will be put on trial one way or another. Surrender.”

But there, in the distance came a plasma gunshot bolting across the battlefield, hitting Ghost straight in the chest area and instantly knocking him back away from Sun. The blue-colored shot was swift, and impactful, but not strong enough to penetrate his Aura, which Ghost suspected was never the intention in the first place.

Because arriving next Sun, helping him up on his feet, was a young man with spiky ocean blue hair held together by a pair of yellow goggles over his forehead. He wore with him a simple red leather combat jacket with a sharp black collar above a long pair of grey jeans adorned with pouches and ammunition, while sporting on his hands a pair of strong black gloves padded with dark metal plates to protect from the recoil of the large energy rifle he held in his hands.

“Just in time, Neptune,” said Sun, holding onto his ribs.

“Let’s finish this asshole, bro.”

“No! Don’t underestimate him. This one – he’s different. I would’ve been cut in half several times by now if it weren’t for the pills.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“Buy me some time, don’t try anything you can’t handle. It’s a long shot, but I’m going to try something weird. King Theodore himself told me about this as a last resort.”

Neptune nodded his head as he pulled down his goggles over his eyes, saying:

“Do what you have to do.”

With a single click of a button, the energy rifle in Neptune’s hands began to quickly morph into a long mechanical trident glowing with crystal sky-blue energy, no doubt powered by strange mechanisms that consumed Water Dust, as with a swift swing of the trident – Neptune created an entire wave of water conjured from the tip of his weapon, and riding on this wave of water, he charged straight toward where Ghost was standing, trying desperately to draw his attention away.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Sun dashed away as fast as he could, moving faster than the eye could track to arrive at an empty sandy hill that had yet to be burned by bombs or guns despite the battle still raging all around in every direction.

And there on this small mound – Sun prostrated himself, now on both knees, and after pounding his forehead onto the ground, he bellowed up high into the sky:

“MAIDEN OF SPRING, LEND US YOUR POWER! DELIVER US FROM THIS HELL BELOW!”

Ghost’s eyes lit up the moment he heard this proclamation from afar. Grabbing Neptune by the neck, he tossed the young man aside as he attempted to push through the crowd of Vacuans who were also getting in his way.

“Oh no you don’t!” Neptune rushed over, leaping in the air with the trident in hand driving straight down.

Only to then instantly be thwarted by the electrical field that was surrounding Ghost from head to toe, making Neptune bounce off him as if he were jumping straight into a brick wall. With another swift motion of Ghost’s hand, barely even flicking, the entire row of Vacuan soldiers standing in front of him was instantly cut in half, with their blood splashing outward like geysers.

Seeing this from afar, Sun immediately looked back into the sky, shouting even louder:

“MAIDEN OF SPRING, DELIVER US, DELIVER US, PLEASE!”

And yet, still nothing happened.

Charging his trident now to its maximum capacity, brimming with powerful Dust energy oozing out of the bladed tips, Neptune launched it forth into the distance in perfect javelin form. Sizzling through the air, yet somehow still stopped mid-air by the lightning field shield, instantly tossing the trident to the ground.

From behind Neptune, Cardin snuck up on him to hold him by the waist, lifting him off the ground for a suplex and driving his head straight onto the sand. With his mace in his hand, Cardin coated the weapon with his Aura before using every ounce of his super strength to smack him far into the distance, launching him into the middle of the crowdy battle where Elm and Ren were struggling.

Now alone with Sun, who still knelt down facing the endless sky above, Ghost stood behind him with the palm of his hand sparkling outward uncontrollable Aura energy. Glaring down, Ghost stood there taking a moment to breathe, but still ready to strike.

But not without muttering out a single word:

“Goodbye.”

The massive pillar of thunderbolt struck from heavens on high, but the peculiar thing that everybody on the battlefield immediately noticed was the fact that the bolt did not come from Ghost’s Semblance. As it was something so thick and dense not even Ghost’s defensive Aura could prevent him from being interrupted, launching backward mere milliseconds before he could cut Sun into pieces.

Descending from a place far in the clouds, everybody was struck with awe and sheer terror by what they were witnessing. Many in the Atlesian army could not even believe it, questioning if they were all collectively hallucinating. But there was no doubt about it.

It was another being who could naturally fly – the Spring Maiden.

Several days earlier…

King Theodore stood by watching a painted circle of ancient scholars gathering around several dimly lit wax candles in the middle of this moldy secret cellar of his kingly castle. Hidden beneath layers upon layers of musty concrete passageways, long winding corridors leading into difficult mazes, and doors locked away by both modern and ancient methods. Keypads and old bronze keys working together to protect the secrets that many were not ready to hear.

For this reason, Sun very much felt like an interloper despite the fact that he was greeted and welcomed into this kingdom of the West as an honored guest.

“Master Sun,” said Asher the servant, following his king shortly behind, “do you know why there are only four major kingdoms in the entire world? There are, of course, numerous towns, villages, cities, many who claim to have no affiliation with any of the kingdoms, and yet still living under these laws, paying their taxes, walking the roads, asking favors from judges.”

“Huh… now that you mention it.” Sun scratched his head. “I guess I never really thought about it.”

“Oh boy, here we go again.” Theodore rolled his eyes. “Make it fucking quick Asher, I’m falling asleep already. You know this ritual will take weeks. You’re boring us to tears with this crap! Chop-chop.”

“You can take a brief nap, sir. I’ll be finished by then. Anyway, as I was saying, it could all just be a coincidence. But what we have in our national possession here reveals to us the underlying truth of this world. Something that makes up the foundation of all kingdoms, the foundation of the gravity of these lands – the reason why people revolve around these massive countries, seemingly attracted by an invisible force pulling them in.”

“What are you trying to say?”

Pointing his finger to the middle of the circle, only now bright enough for Sun to see the intricate runes and patterns decorated onto the floor with fresh white paint, and placed in the center there was a peculiar-looking corpse.

At first, he thought this was the body of someone who had recently died. But upon closer inspection, that did not seem to be the case given the pale color of the withered skin and dry flaky surface that looked like it had been sitting in a dark closet collecting dust for ages. Not to mention the frame of the skeleton seemed a little smaller in comparison to a typical modern person.

And here, the most bizarre thing to Sun, the one thing he could not reconcile, was the fact that the longer he stared at this corpse, the more fresh the flesh seemed to him for some strange reason. He did not know how or why, but he just instinctively knew that this body was an ancient relic of some kind, despite not giving in to any sign of decay or odor.

Clearing his throat, Asher finally explained:

“That there – is the body of the Spring Maiden. Her name is Vernal.”

Sun’s eyes widened into an immediate size of pure disbelief. But Asher was still not finished, he continued:

“The Seasons are formless and beyond the cosmos. They are abstract and larger than this planet, possibly larger than the entire universe. And to interact with our plane of existence, they emanate their essence into the lower worlds. Piloting the bodies of chosen avatars, exceptional individuals with powers beyond mortal comprehension. It is said that the bodies of those first chosen by the Seasons, the first generation, are the closest things to perfect emanations of pure cosmic essence. And for that reason, their bodies possess a certain divinity, thus making it so they will never rot or decay even after death.”

“That – is insane!”

“This divinity has a certain gravity to it,” Asher went on, “and this is the reason for the existence and the longevity of the four kingdoms, and why the peoples of the world revolve around them. As the legend goes, any country possessing a body of a Maiden, or any piece of their divinity, will gain the power to rule beyond the thousands of years. The four kingdoms are the only countries to possess the original corpses of the first Maidens. Which means their reigns became much longer than any city, town, or village to come after that. Many tribes and settlements will claim to possess a piece of a Maiden from the second generation onward. Some of these claims are true, others are questionable. But regardless, one thing we know is for sure – the power they wield is but an emanation of an emanation.”

Wiping the sweat off his forehead, Sun glanced about all over the place, still trying to process this information. Asher grinned ever so slightly, almost as if taking pleasure from his confusion. He then continued:

“There are divine miracles known to happen by the grace of the Seasons, working through these corpses as a conduit. One of these miracles is the passing on of Seasonal emanations, passing on the title – the true way to coronate a new Maiden.”

“How do we know the person chosen is the right one?” Sun asked.

“We know because we know.” Theodore spat a mouthful to the side, getting impatient. “We are geniuses, you see. Or I am, anyway, since you people are all small-brained monkeys. It’s impossible for you to comprehend how smart I am.”

“Those chosen by the Seasons will experience a telling sensation upon contact with the corpse.” Asher explained. “No two experiences will be the same, but the revelation that one is chosen will be clear for all to see. The chosen one to take up the mantle of Spring is truly one from an unexpected source. We scoured these desert lands for years, and only to come across a young orphan girl by the side of the street in the land of the East of all places.”

“You mean in Mistral? Why there? How is that possible?” Sun shook his head.

“It just is.” Said Asher. “It felt so insignificant, how it happened. One we could’ve so easily missed without divine guidance. The gravity of the corpse is strong, very strong. Even in something as tiny as a single finger. But once the girl came in contact with the corpse, her body lit up like fireworks. You should’ve seen it, it was… magnificent.”

“So, who is this girl?”

Snapping his fingers to signal one of the robed scholars, Asher called out loud:

“Bring in Nora Valkyrie.”

Chapter Text

“Come to me, tyrant! Let me feed!”

Strangely enough, the aggressive growling in Oobleck’s tone seemed awfully inconsistent with how the man was just standing there, patiently waiting for Weiss to come to him instead of going on offense. It was obvious to her that this was a trap, she just could not figure out what kind and how.

“By the estimation of my God King, a single universe is roughly an infinity to the power of twenty septillion light years in diameter at a minimum, expanding at approximately seventy trillion light years per Planck instant. When you are inside Oobleck – that number is cut in half. The further inside you go, the smaller the space becomes. Eventually, swoosh! Squashed like a bug.”

The blob of green flew through the air, attempting to capture Weiss once more to push her further into this pocket universe. Within just a mere few centiseconds, Weiss had realized the real apparent danger of this devilish man. It was doubtful to her whether the blob could really crush her, but she wasn’t about to find out.

So, flying away she did, zipping through the air at speeds massively faster than light. She was instantly baffled by the fact that the green goo was somehow still able to keep up with her ludicrous speed. She was still faster, but it was not far behind.

Moving through the air with unnatural conviction, smelling Weiss’ every move and every path to follow along. No matter what direction she flew, how much she zigzagged, she simply could not shake off this peculiar creature. But of course, to consider this a living thing was questionable at best.

She was already flying through the Beacon tower at the heart of the Valley several times over at this pace, suggesting to her that perhaps what he said was true, that the reach of Oobleck’s pocket universe was indeed – universal. The scenery of the blurry vision did not change, and she was still intangible, unable to touch anything she came across. And the same could be applied to the green blob, still hot on her trails.

Glancing back to the desert where Oobleck was standing, a plan immediately popped into her mind the moment she realized that the two of them may be the only ones in this world of intangibility. There were still risks, but if she were to attack Oobleck directly instead of avoiding the green blob…

And thus, she flew back, ripping through the air at the burst of the sound barrier exploding, lighting the atmosphere on fire. To fly straight toward where Oobleck was standing.

But after entering the burning sphere of the West, mere milliseconds away from crashing into the Torturer, the woman would be instantly stopped in her tracks by pure shock the moment she witnessed something even more mind-bending than what she had already seen so far.

A second Oobleck had emerged, standing next to the original – both grinning ear to ear.

With just a microsecond of pause, too small to even quantify, paused by the impending confusion of this strange power that seemed unrelated. And when she was distracted, she immediately realized that the goo had caught up to her, latching straight onto the side of her left forearm, now refusing to let go.

“By the power vested in me as King of Vacuo, who-thinks-Summer-is-way-better-than-all-the-other-pansy-ass-gods-anyway, I declare divinity upon the one Nora Valkyrie. Step forth and receive these gauntlets and descend unto our mortal planes. May Spring of the stars grant us flowers and fruits, honey and grapes, wheat and water. Defend us from harm and evil, and deliver us.”

Tapping on Asher’s shoulder, Sun leaned in asking:

“What are those gauntlets for?”

“They’re made from ornate steel, the finest in the land,” he whispered back. “They are a vessel to invite in divine spirit emanating from the cosmos far above. A tool to contain heavenly powers so that they don’t break this planet, or our plane of existence.”

“Does it work?”

“It should. But I don’t think anybody’s ever seen the full power of a Maiden. A Season can crush this planet like an ant, but a Maiden by their very nature is already more contained. Limited by mortal flesh. As such…”

Cutting off Asher’s explanation, Nora’s head turned away toward the direction behind her, to a place everybody was confused the moment her divine ringing ears began echoing that prayer from the battlefield far beyond:

“MAIDEN OF SPRING, DELIVER US, DELIVER US, PLEASE!”

Nobody really knew how everybody in this hidden dungeon was able to hear the voice from this distance, and what was even more puzzling was the fact that the voice sounded as if it came from Sun himself, even though he knew well he did not utter any of those words. But what their attention was glued on was the overwhelming electricity coursing through Nora’s veins, lighting up her body in a sheet of blue lightning covering her from head to toe, transforming her into almost a formless blob.

One that with a simple flex of her forearms – was effortlessly able to snap the steel gauntlets into pieces like a fragile glass windowpane.

And there, with divine lightning striking from a place without clouds – she disappeared, leaving behind nothing but an empty circle without even a trace of any electrical bolt charring the ground they stepped on.

Slamming her hammer on the sand of the West, everybody far and wide could feel the tremor of Nora’s divine lightning burning the desert hotter than the sun. There she stood in heavy metal armor painted with peculiar pink, clad over a surprisingly smooth and stylish coat with rolled-up sleeves, worn over a shirt with intricate patterns that almost resembled that of chain mail. All held together by a powerful metal belt above long pants and high boots.

With each step she took, the ground would light up with blue fire, spreading miles far. With every Atlesian soldier she saw, her eyes would emit furious electricity violently burning through their body armor and Aura faster than they could even comprehend and register the pain.

And then there was her hammer, a device as long as she was tall, maybe longer. And most curiously, the weapon was actually modern, mechanical, instead of being ancient or magical. With the heavy head of the hammer on top seemingly in the shape of a revolver, attached on top a gun barrel large enough to contain grenades or missiles.

This truly was a woman larger than anything they could’ve imagined – a Giant?

Not hesitating or backing down, Ghost charged forth with an electric Aura blade coating his right hand, slashing at where Nora stood.

But the divine Aura of a Maiden was far thicker than a mortal. So the slash simply bounced off her body as if his hand were made out of sponge.

Without even paying him a look, she swung her hammer with as little effort as swatting away a fly, and still Ghost was sent flying far into the distance, crashing through waves of soldiers, through boulders and sand, even crushing through the metal side of a tank. He lay there clutching his chest, feeling the impact of a strength he had never felt before save for his mentor. The protective Aura layer around him flickered, and still, he felt the awesome power of Spring now wildly stinging his torso.

Then far above, from the sky rained down fire from the North. Missiles fired from the faraway frozen lands of the Empire. One by one they came crashing down to destroy hundreds of the scorpion riders scattered across the desert. But they had yet to fall onto Nora herself, who stood there unflinching.

Without fear, for the power drew forth from the palm of her hands was overwhelming, bursting forth of electrical madness. Sunny sky rumbled as dark clouds gathered around, brewing forth cyclones and thunder in a matter of seconds. And when she released that ball of dense energy into where the rain of missiles was coming from – a massive roaring storm forming in the shape of a dome came over the entire desert, effectively protecting the battlefield from foreign fire.

“HEY, Zappy!”

Descending from far above, with his focus now shifted from the Death Stalker to the Maiden, Oliver came crashing down, punching onto Nora’s hammer which she just held up mere seconds ago to block the attack. The sheer force of the wind from the one punch alone would create a massive crater around where Nora was standing, crushing the sand and dirt.

Following it up with two more punches straight across her face and one more to the gut, Oliver’s eyes continued to light up with powerful green Aura energy, prepared to deliver another blow. And here, he was immediately stopped short by Nora’s own powerful grip grabbing straight onto his fist. Face-to-face, he got a closer look at her features, and it was clear to him that the punches he delivered did no damage to the Maiden.

Trying to hide his desperation, Oliver smiled on:

“So you’re Spring? You look more like Fall to me. Goddamn false gods everywhere.”

Raising his fist for another punch, but only now to be interrupted by another lightning eye beam that blasted Oliver straight back to where the Death Stalker was, landing him squarely in the path of the monster’s giant pincer for the monster to slam him right into the ground, causing massive tremors far beneath everyone on this field.

Behind it all, Neptune came sliding down a hill of sand, getting Sun on his feet as the both of them darted out from the danger of the Maiden clashing with the Atlesians.

“Time to pull out all the stops,” Neptune cried.

Sun nodded his head, prompting Neptune to reach for his earpiece shouting:

“Deploy the Air Force riders, the Spring Maiden has arrived. I repeat, the Spring Maiden has arrived. We need everybody here, NOW!”

“Thank the Seasons we set up our base underground right here in the desert,” said Sun, “if our riders had to go through that storm, sheesh.”

Sure enough, miles off in the distance, several men and women of the Vacuan troops darted from the sand covering above their base. Splashing upward to bring out waves upon waves, as the very ground itself could not contain the power that propelled them into the sky.

The power of Faunus wings.

Here for the world to see came one superior trait among the Faunus peoples. Certain men and women with bat wings and eagle wings, spanning many large meters across to be able to fly at incredible speeds. Cutting through the air, donning heavy armor and energy rifles, alongside strong helmets with visors to protect from wind resistance.

These were the elite troops of the West, well-funded by the King himself who spared no expense armoring each and every one of these soldiers, even covering their wings in metal. Just enough for powerful protection, but not enough to inhibit movement. All of which had the brand of the King’s seal itself stapled onto the surface of the steel. Flying high for all to see the symbol of their country.

Proud warriors flying forth now, firing heavy energy blasts to clear the Atlesian soldiers and jeeps. One blast being enough to devastate a large area of up to several men, maybe even a tank.

Seeing her troops in the sky, Nora nodded her head in acknowledgement. Before rising high herself, empowering herself with electricity that burst forth like a waterfall, scorching the ground as she advanced, destroying anything in her path.

“Rear Admiral,” Lisa shouted into her earpiece, “what should we do? Over.”

Pondering the question for a moment, Ghost realized the trouble they were in. The Superman had been taken off the table, as well as any of their ranged options, either naval or from the homeland. He was not entirely sure of the true power of this storm dome surrounding them, so perhaps ground reinforcements were still possible. But speed was key, and given the new developments, it was difficult to get newer war machines into the desert, especially with the Grimm Giant still rampaging around.

With this in mind, he knew they needed to minimize these disadvantages, so he gave the order:

“Retreat to the shore and fall back, we don’t know how long this storm is going to be here, but if it clears, then we can bring reinforcements in faster that way. Over.”

“Roger,” said Lisa, “I’ll secure the area for our retreat, over and out.”

Gathering up his strength, Ghost marched forth as his troops gathered themselves retreating. He stepped into the presence of the godly Maiden, who seemed to ignore him at first. But with his rising Aura energy field creating massive sand craters from sheer gravity alone, his power was there for many to see.

Collecting it all into one focal point was difficult on account of how dense the energy was. But this was the technique he had been practicing without rest for years now, trying to perfect it with his own Semblance. To bring the electricity – the power of nuclear bombs into the tip of a single finger.

“Concentrate, soldier,” a voice echoed.

Thus, prompting Ghost to turn around and marvel at the magnificent sight of a Giant.

A Northern Giant.

There standing back-to-back, Fleet Admiral Maru stood with his prized student, raising a finger gun, pointing straight toward the god in the sky.

Looking up to his mentor, who had finally come out of injury after all this time, Ghost immediately noticed his clean uniform, the sharp white coat over his shoulders, and his strong stern expression. It was as if he was never injured in the first place, now standing taller than ever before.

Steeling himself, Ghost focused his attention back on the Maiden, but in the end – he simply could not help but exhale a sigh of relief, like releasing a tense burden he had been carrying across the burning desert after all this time. Sweat now finally able to stop dripping down his face.

Heavy breath, relaxed to a gaze of precision. Looking farther into the sky in the midst of a storm, the two of them stood there unwavering facing a foreign divine power. Nora was a god, but the Giants had roamed this world just as long as the gods had. And in the palm of their hands were the peak of human excellence, engineered, pushed to their mortal limits.

And with discipline and conviction, they carried on.

“FIRE!”

The two beams of dense Aura left their fingers at the speed of light, bursting forth with subtle power and rage that Nora could not fully discern, not until the beams were merely a few feet away from her, which by that point was too late to dodge or get out of the way. Godly arrogance was what froze her there to take in the shots.

Her armor was heavy, but her Aura was heavier. And yet, facing mortal determination – she was met with an explosion that shook the very mountains far in the depth of the West, deeper behind Coquina and into Vacuo. The shockwaves alone ruptured the height of those mountains, letting boulders of all sizes tumble down the sides.

Many soldiers on both sides were completely caught off guard, launched from where they stood far in the distance, many of whom even had their ears burst open from the sound of the explosion alone, for they had not properly shielded themselves with their Aura. Or they were simply not strong enough to do so.

Behind them, the war machines and scorpions felt the aftermath as well, with several tanks being crumpled up like tissue paper, and many scorpions squashed like a bug, bending their legs and tails backward. Even the Death Stalker itself had difficulty standing upright, violently whirling around its pincers trying to find balance.

And there, up high in the clouds, the Vacuan Air Force riders scattered far and wide, disoriented as they continuously bumped into giant Atlesian airships. There the battle resumed, lighting up the sky with smoldering sparks of rifles and fire. With several of these winged Faunus being trouble for the airships. One, two, three, after the shots from their rifles powered by their own Aura – an airship plummeted out of the sky, into the ocean.

The sounds of storm and flickering god Aura raged on, now searing the atmosphere, turning the clouds red. And from behind the smoke, Nora still hovered above all of them. She seemed unhurt, but her Aura flickered – and that was enough of a sign to fight on.

“Fall back soldier, I’ll take things from here,” said Maru.

“Sir…”

“That’s an order! I won’t repeat myself. Keep in touch with your officer General Stone. You are a part of GOLD, an example of excellence. So act like it.”

The Death Stalker roared, trampling over several tanks like they were made of simple tin. But Maru’s eye was on something else completely different, for he saw that there was a threat much more dangerous than just a mere Grimm Giant.

Plunging his hand straight into the sandy ground, he pulled forth Oobleck out from underneath, grabbing him by the neck and tossing him straight into the distance.

The Torturer instantly regained his balance, standing there smiling while he dusted himself off. Glaring at this demonic man, Maru tossed aside his long coat, and immediately prepared the Aura blade coating his right hand.

“Where is Ozymandias?” Maru asked.

And to that, he would get no response. Only a demonic teethful grin.

“Very well.”

Slicing forth, his Aura shot traveled the distance of the sand, cutting the ground to only then be instantly stopped by a peculiar unexplainable green goo rising up to block the attack. What was most odd in this particular moment was the fact that Maru somehow instinctively knew to attack from a distance, rather than engaging up close where Oobleck stood, who had yet moved a muscle.

It was at this moment, Ghost knew these men were out of his league. So retreating to his troops, he did. There in the distance, he could see Lisa still handling the scorpion riders, dashing all over dodging their sword swings and bullets as fast as she could, countering them with quick punches to instantly bloody their noses and teeth.

“Colonel!”

“Ghost, what the hell is going on? The Fleet Admiral’s back? Did he run all the way out here? What?”

“Come on, we need to find Oliver. Our target is the Maiden. She’s still the biggest threat. Let’s go!”

“…feed the fire with wet mouse hair. Burn an onion. Burn a chair. Burn a whisker from your chin, and burn a long sour lizard skin…”

Clicking their tongues, the two Ooblecks mumbled on as Weiss stared down the crawling goo on her arm, slowly making its way up her shoulder.

And there, from behind Weiss – came the shadow of a third.

“Daughter of the North, heed this word. Just one word – Oobleck.”

“…make magic smoke, green, thick and hot. It sure smells dreadful, does it not?”

Swinging her fist around, she struck the third Oobleck at the speed of light. Only to find his body dissolving into green ethereal mist that disappeared and reappeared behind her, rematerializing like that of a ghost, a spirit. Taking out her rapier in frustration, she began to vibrate the blade with intense gravity, only for Oobleck to shake his head, wagging his finger.

“There is a way out of this place,” he said, “and you know it, I can feel it. You’re smart, probably too smart for this world. But when you get out, do you really think you can find a way to get Oobleck off your arm? The second you get out, I will pull you back in. Not even Ozymandias’ holy torch could burn me. Sooner or later, you will be crushed, so give up.”

From the ground, more green goo rose into where Weiss was floating like that of a tree coming alive. Only it was clear that this sickly tree had no life within, merely an abomination sprouting forth strange pale hands that eventually grew into branches upon branches of arms reaching out toward Weiss.

The goo attaching to Weiss’ arm followed suit, also shooting out several lanky arms to grab a hold of her, pulling her down the seed of the green goo that began making its way onto her uniform. She tried to shake herself off, but the vibrational energy of her Aura could not detach herself from the bonds. Or rather, it was almost as if the energy itself could not even touch the encroaching intangible liquid, simply passing through without contact.

At the tip of each of the hands’ fingernails came fire, ice, and small seedlings that grew into coffee beans. The smell was intoxicating, overwhelming to make Weiss struggle in decoding a strategy. But what was more was that she noticed that every single thing that was happening at the moment was utmost unnatural.

When she scanned the molecular structure of everything she saw, she could not discern the rules operating the cells, the atoms. They all seemed wrong somehow, in ways that she could not really explain or fully understand. They functioned as far as what they were tasked to do, but they were not put together in any logical manner.

For five years, this man remained hidden from sight. If this man had such an ability for all this time, then how on earth was the Kingdom of Vale allowed to fall at all?

No – the only logical explanation was that this power had recently come into his possession, and only now was he confident enough to show his hands. Which ultimately only circled back to that original question.

What exactly was this thing called Oobleck?

The Death Stalker roared on, while cannons, tanks, and airships struggled to keep it down. Which was difficult enough without a Maiden swooping in to pick up several jeeps over her shoulders and tossing them onto the crowd of Atlesian soldiers.

One swing of the hammer, several hundred officers flew far with their bones cracking. Another swing of the hammer, a private flew into the torso of another clean through, cutting several men behind in half. Her power would not stop, now staring down the soldiers with her eye beams, incinerating them down to the last molecule.

Sneaking up the woman from behind, Oliver once again came crashing down, but this time managing to punch her right at the back of her head, which only managed to stagger her ever so slightly. Barely penetrating her thick layer of Aura protecting her.

What he did end up managing was separating Nora from her hammer with a swift skillful kick, launching it far away from her grip. Now slamming their fists against one another, they grabbed onto each other’s hands to push violently in opposite directions, standing there in a mighty contest of strength, their power was overwhelming, easily crushing the very ground they stood on alongside creating quakes that traveled miles wide.

Once again, Oliver tried to keep up a façade with a smile, but he knew that he was completely outmatched against this woman’s power. As within a split second, she would slip out of his grip to grab onto the hair on his head, before slamming it straight down on the ground, grinding him into the stone. Smashing him over and over and over again, before tossing him aside into the far distance like a broken toy.

Lying on his back, Oliver touched the top of his forehead to see blood dripping down from his black hair. Holding this red in his hand, he chuckled to himself, lying back to catch his breath.

“Oliver!” Lisa approached, getting him off the ground.

“Boy, am I glad to see you. This shit stings, ah!”

“Listen, I have an idea. I don’t know if it’s going to work. But I think it’s worth trying.”

“Baby, you do whatever it is you gotta do. As long as we win,” Oliver gritted his teeth from the pain.

“I’ll have to run back to Vale. It might take a while. Think you can hold down the fort ‘til then?”

“What about the storm dome?”

“I think I can power through it with my Aura. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine… I think.”

“Ha, Ghost is going to hate you for this. Rule following dork.”

“That’s why we love him,” Lisa grinned.

Oliver smiled back brightly as the blood dripped from his head down to his chin, powering through to give a thumbs up.

Nodding her head in acknowledgement, Lisa readied her running pose, and within the next few seconds, the fire from her boots roared like inferno far below crystalizing those grains of desert sand, and there – she took off far in the distance, breaking the sound barrier.

Chapter Text

The island of Patch had been completely cleared out by soldiers and students at Signal Academy, rounding them up into bunkers and similar shelters to avoid the collateral damage of the fighting to their south. The early warning systems kicked in during the midst of the shockwaves, sirens blasting through the air, ringing in everybody’s head.

Numerous young men and women herded up the people like they were sheep or cows. Furious soldiers in white uniforms violently commanding them into orderly lines, some resulting in altercations, all in the name of Atlesian powers. Soon, the grassy plains of this land would be cleared, only leaving behind buildings to be crumbled by the tremors caused by Giants.

There was, however, one among the crowd who ignored the warnings, slipping past the guards to travel far into the depths of a forest in the east. To this young woman, she knew that ordinary students did not have the strength to restrain her even if they were to somehow spot her leaving in the opposite direction.

And Yang Xiao Long was absolutely right.

With every step of her heavy boots, she was retreading old grounds of memories long past. Old times back in the old days in her old home. The cottage lying in the far corner behind a quiet bed of tall trees, growing to form a natural barrier. It was almost too ideal to be true.

Now with the knowledge that her stepmother was a god, she now knew this quaint life she once had was all thanks to the divinity of Summer. The bright light of midyear’s calm creation music.

But beautiful nature’s music can only do so much for someone standing on the grave of a loved one, a father.

There next to her childhood home, she glanced down at the tombstone of her father, now covered in moss despite the family’s vow to take turns keeping it clean.

Taking in a deep breath, Yang sighed:

“Hey, dad. Just passing through. How’ve you been?”

Taiyang Xiao Long. A strong man once, and a good man. But he was ordinary. Living to a good age before passing away in his bed. Drawing his last breath at the sight of his two kids leaving into the wild world of gods and monsters.

If they had told people how unremarkable this man was, nobody would have believed them.

But Yang had nothing to prove to the rest of the world. Only one thing remained in her life now, one thought that consumed her every waking moment. And that was the image of that flying despotic flag far in the sky, rupturing the very air.

Dusting off any moss she could, she cleared the grave of any impurity. Tossing away any piece of dirt or rubble she could find, even crushing the cobwebs that formed at the bottom and all around the back, hiding in the shadows of stone.

“Strange luck to see you again.”

Standing behind her with his tattered red cape, Qrow Branwen crossed his arms as he stared down at his niece. With them now noticing that the wind had seemingly stopped blowing for a brief second, before the quiet roaring of their Aura disturbed the silent air once more.

“What are you doing here, Yang?”

Pausing for a second, before standing up from the grave. She turned her head, with her eyes now burning and her antlers growing through her hair.

“Scorched earth. I’m sinking this island.”

Without letting Qrow retort, she spun her right foot around stomping on the ground as hard as she could, cracking the soil and stones to create tremors that shook the entire island. There, she powered up her fist with raging Aura, skin hardening with draconic scales, and in her grip the chambers in Ember Celica turned, slotting in the appropriate shell before she fired off a blast that could devastate a mountain, aiming it right where Qrow was standing.

What was most mindboggling, however, was the fact that despite not moving a single inch, still standing with his hands in his pockets – the gunshot was never able to make its way toward Qrow, not able to touch his skin, or even scratch the fabric of his clothes.

Mere seconds before the shot was fired, a massive bird the size of half a person came swooping in from the sky to take the full force of the gun blast. With each and every speck of scattered flesh blocking every pellet coming out of that single shotgun shell, not allowing any damage through onto Qrow.

The two of them stood there dumbfounded, eyes widened as neither knew how to properly react. Qrow himself checked thoroughly to see if he had been hit, scouring his arms, legs, and body for the tiniest of scratches. But there was nothing.

“Huh… strange luck,” he muttered.

Unraveling his scythe, bringing forth Harbinger, Qrow spun the weapon gracefully before planting the tip of the blade onto the ground, using the leverage to crack the surface Yang was standing on. Stomping hard on the handle of the giant scythe, spinning the platform, flipping multiple times, to push Yang off balance and lining her up perfectly within striking distance.

Tearing off the blade, he swung it as hard as he could, even going so far as to leap off the ground to smash into Yang, almost as if he were trying to take her head off. Yang’s thick Aura managed to prevent her from getting sliced in half, but the two of them flew through the air at massive speed. Within seconds, they crashed into Signal Academy placed far in the other direction, crushing the high towers to send ripples through the stone and concrete floors, instantly flattening the numerous buildings in a blink of an eye.

“You’re really going to waste away this second chance?” Qrow shouted as they blasted through stone floors and steel beams. “All men can receive new life to correct their wrongs. Don’t waste it. It’s time to come home.”

“What the actual hell are you talking about?”

“You never wondered why she let you go? Why she doesn’t round everybody up in less time than it takes to blink?”

“And you know the reason why?”

“No. But this is grace from above. You have an opportunity here. Why are you wasting it?”

Growling, Yang swung her fist to clash violently against Qrow’s scythe, creating shockwaves that could travel far and wide, ripping apart any remaining pieces of stone holding up this Academy.

“Hold this pose,” Ghost ordered, standing up tall while pointing his finger gun full of Aura.

“Yes sir,” Oliver replied.

Crouching beneath his team leader, with his left fist on the ground and his right fist clenched, Oliver held there without blinking. Breathing at a precise rate that only a machine could reproduce to ensure maximum efficiency in technique.

There, facing a god, the two young men’s Aura intensified to their absolute physical limits. The two of GOLD represented the best potential the Empire had to offer, and possibly the peak of what a mortal could accomplish.

“Hold it,” Ghost continued.

But Nora’s simple footstep was not to be underestimated. Just one step, one stomp on the ground – and the very tectonic plate of the continent shifted in ways that gave ordinary men goosebumps from the mindboggling quakes.

This was the true power of Spring recorded in old holy texts. The dominion over the soil, shaking the earth beneath. Drawing from the storm massive plasmic fires that gravitated toward the ground. This was known, of course, as lightning.

How terrifying that one’s gravity could be so strong they could draw in fire from the sky. How powerful one must be to lift a hammer heavy enough to crush a continent. How horrid it would be to see that very hammer infused with electrical energy so dense, the plasma was practically a solid block.

But the men of GOLD were disciplined. They held strong, even though they both knew they were severely outmatched. They were sure that even if the Fleet Admiral himself were to go up against Nora, he would still have no chance at victory.

But the spirit of their Empire could not be easily conquered. So with conviction – Ghost fired.

“NOW!”

Dashing from the ground, leaving behind cracks in the sand from his footprints, Oliver came forward in the air to receive Ghost’s powerful finger gun shot, massively empowering Oliver’s muscles with electrical energies fusing with a raging windy Aura.

Oliver’s eyes lit up like stars, crackling and roaring as his fist came forth, smashing onto Nora’s hammer. Spinning her hammer several times before blocking, she pulled back to smack Oliver straight across his forearm.

It took everything he had to not be pushed back from the impact, despite the blow shattering several bones stretching up to the top of his shoulder. He powered through, to then deliver a powerful roundhouse kick, spinning his body around one more time for a follow-up heel kick.

Coming off from the ground, Ghost joined in, front flipping and slashing forward countless times, almost as if he were a human bladed wheel. Following it up with several more hand strikes, slashing away at any opening Ghost could find. Forming his hands in the most precise manner he could sharpen into.

But Nora was simply too fast. Her eyes darting around to see every one of their hands and fists coming. Blocking those attacks, taking them with her Aura, Nora persisted through the barrage before shooting from the palm of her hand several balls of electricity, spinning around and backhanding the both of them with her fist to knock them back down in the far distance.

Curiously, descending from the sky above came these Atlesian Paladins deployed from several different airships, crashing straight into Nora’s flight path. Which did manage to somehow knock her out of the sky for a brief moment, before she redirected her momentum and tossed the two Paladins onto the ground. One of them shattered into a thousand pieces from touching her electrical skin, the other powered through and prepared several cannons to fire. Another Paladin snuck up behind her, smashing her with its giant mechanical fists, which shattered immediately in just a couple of blows.

“Once again,” Oliver smirked, spitting a mouthful of blood, “Diamond coming in to save the day.”

Diamond spoke through their earpieces in an instant sharp tone:

“Negative. We cannot defeat her. Fall back.”

“I’m afraid there’s nowhere to fall back to,” said Ghost. “We just need to buy time for Lisa.”

“And how long will that take?”

The moment Diamond finished her sentence, not more than a few milliseconds later, a blast of searing fire came soaring through the sky from behind the two men of GOLD, morphing from fire into fast lightning that was not colored blue like Nora’s own electricity.

Instead, the blast of flame struck at Nora’s torso, catching her off guard, just barely fast enough for her to not be able to block in time, and knocking her down onto the ground at last.

All three of them, Ghost, Oliver, Diamond, watched in astonishment as they turned their heads to witness something that almost seemed blasphemous to the efforts of the Empire, but conflictingly, was something that they were still at least somewhat relieved to see.

Standing in the far distance, shattering the storm dome with her fire – was Cinder Falls, Queen of Mistral.

“Well, I’ll be,” Oliver coughed.

Dashing from behind Cinder and joining her teammates, Lisa reappeared before her boys, leaving behind a trail of fire from her boots.

“Sorry it took so long,” Lisa grinned, cracking her knuckles. “Let’s finish this.”

Cinder’s cackle could be heard for miles, echoing with bizarre rumbling now that her overwhelming Aura had now entered the field. There before everybody on the battlefield, they would now witness the power of someone divine, proving to all definitively that Cinder was, in fact, the rightful ruler of the throne of Mistral.

For she truly was the Fall Maiden.

From behind the woman, a pillar of fire the size of a mountain rose the moment she powered up her Aura, scorching the very desert sand itself, instantly turning them into glass and crystals from the extreme heat. Collateral damage was abound, for anybody not strong enough to withstand the cruel heat of Fall would be instantly turned into ash. This included numerous low-ranking officers of the Empire alongside countless scorpion riders, instantly vaporized into nothingness.

Nora’s expression remained unchanged throughout all of this. As she stood back up on her feet, cracking her neck from the impact she received moments ago, which now seemed like a mere inconvenience with her regaining balance. But Nora knew this opponent was not someone to be underestimated.

Nora speculated that even without the Superman, if Atlas and Mistral were true allies, they would be able to conquer the world with little effort.

Charging up her hammer once more, she dashed so far so fast into the deep sky that it almost seemed as if she were teleporting. Now with the power of the earth and the storm, shaking the tectonic plates, her hammer now held the insane power to vaporize the entirety of the West itself.

Still smirking, Cinder was not deterred. And in fact, was so confident in her own ability that she conjured up a fireball from underneath her oversized sleeve and immediately tossed it into the distance. The ball was small at first, but as it traveled it began to sear the atmosphere, burning through oxygen, leaving behind a violent trail of flame so hot that the moment it touched the Death Stalker – the Grimm Giant would be immediately turned into dust in a matter of seconds.

A titan of a monster, disintegrating into the wind from a flame no bigger than a pebble.

From this confidence, Cinder conjured up powerful storms and fire from the sky with just a wave of her hands. Pulling down extreme thunder and hail and rains of inferno from the intense gravitational force of her Aura. Nora responded in kind, also summoning another storm from Spring’s earthquakes, killing countless soldiers far below in the process.

Here the two Maidens would clash in a battle the world would rarely see. Or perhaps it was invoking a familiar memory of the soil from this land fractured into the Remnant of today, echoing the past.

“Well,” said Oliver, “at least that’s out of our hands now.”

Clutching the side of his ribs, Oliver collapsed onto his knees, with Lisa immediately bolting to his side to help him up.

“Thanks,” he smiled. “I could go for a drink right about now.”

“War’s not over yet, soldier,” said Ghost. “Come on, let’s help the Fleet Admiral.”

“Wait, do you hear that?”

“What will you do, Daughter of the North?”

Being held down by the arms of Oobleck, Weiss was slowly being consumed by the empty energy of the green goo. The green was fast, and yet when it came to consumption, it took its sweet time. Savoring every flavor it could taste.

After all, Weiss’ cellular structure was thicker than anything Oobleck had come across in his entire life, despite his arrogance. A completely perfect specimen that had never been harmed before in her entire life. Even now with the claws trying to dig into her skin through her uniform and Aura, she felt no pain, no damage.

“You can’t kill me, Chief Torturer. Your tricks aren’t strong enough.”

“Oh, but I can keep you here forever. Keep you from the war, make you watch as your ice towers fall. The God King will be pleased, oh so very pleased.”

Just then, ringing in her ears and eyes came bright lights…

From a farmland far, far away.

The house at the edge of a place far Beyond, accompanied by the ringing of the bell. There – Red stood, red cape flowing, red spirit lighting, watching Weiss.

Leaning in close, she whispered:

“Remember your legacy.”

Weiss did not quite fully understand the true nature of things. But her instinct felt automatic somehow. As she glared at the visage of the one Oobleck to see a familiar emanation from a place higher than where they were. Far Beyond.

A face of something darker, more demonic.

His breath was heavy as the Ooblecks continued to click their tongues, whispering strange phrases littered with strange rhymes.

But Weiss was undeterred, and surprisingly – the arms from the goo began to deteriorate. Their strength weakened as the grip could no longer hold. And now, with flakey pale skin cracking and falling apart, and the seeds of the nails no longer having that scent of strong tropical coffee.

“What are you…”

The green goo was retreating, and even they were not aware of the reason why. Trying to gravitate back any way they could to recapture Weiss and consume her into the deeper depths of Oobleck. But slowly, and surely, the goo could no longer hold power and intangibility over the invincible Superman.

But the Superman was not touching the goo either, or rather she did not need to. All she needed to do – was rise. Standing back up on her feet, floating back up a few inches off the ground, reclaiming dominion. And with that silent raging spirit inside, the fighting spirit of icy steel, the goo became allergic. Backing off from the presence of something so strong.

Something bizarre was afoot. Was this the power of the Superman that had always been dormant within her all this time? Or was this strength something that newly came? Allowing her to grow forth from something dire, adapting?

“What are you?” Oobleck’s grimaced, growling. “How? You seem… familiar…”

And faster than the eye could react, Weiss was already floating in front of the Torturer, with her hand now around his neck, lifting him off the ground with ease. Giving him barely enough room just to breathe as he tried to claw her grip from his neck.

Leaning in close, Weiss said:

“We should both remember each other. But I don’t. At least not yet. All in due time.”

Tossing him on the ground, sure of herself, sure of her power, sure of a guarantee that Oobleck now won’t come after her, at least for the moment. She unsheathed her rapier, and with intense vibration that reached a speed that was impossible to calculate, the weapon coated in thick Aura lit up like a violent star. Coming to life from a single precise point of bang.

“NO! You’re not getting out of here!” Oobleck crawled on the ground.

And the green goo rose once more into the shape of a tsunami. Massive, as large as an entire mountain, to rise far into the height of the moon before crashing down onto Weiss with the weight of Remnant behind this demonic force.

But Weiss’ Aura was too bright. With the vicious vibration of the blade, she stabbed forth – aiming at the subatomic strings of the lower microscopic planes, and there with the most power she had ever put into a blade thus far, she punctured a hole through the fabric of space.

The structure of the air around shook as the dim green light of Oobleck trembled at the immense power of a Superman. Cracks began to form in midair as tremors shook the entirety of Remnant itself, sending shockwaves into the depths of the cosmos far in the distance at a speed no mortal could measure. The point at which the tip of the blade entered through began to widen into a large plate of light, like glass, glowing with intense cosmic energy infused with godly Aura.

The gravity of the entire universe shook, crowding in far distant buildings, pulling in trees, rooting them from deep soils that had consumed them for thousands of years. Even the heart of the oceans could do nothing but obey the strength of the crackling dimensional hole, striking, searing away droplets of water bigger than lands, bigger than ships.

All surrounding around the one Superman of this world, powerful gravitational fields pulling in all sorts of materials in this alternate world, too numerous to name. Cars, beds, wallets, coins, Paladins, ships, submarines, silver, shirts, cattle, worms, poison gas, steel pipes, axes, bowls, fridges, roofs, skeletons, mortar, bricks, combs, wild bees, dead lions, stone pillars, knives, bullets, candies, flowers, rats, crates, shells, polymer, tattered jackets, leather, and many, many more.

“What on Oz’s green earth is going on?” Oobleck cried. “This place is supposed to be intangible. What the hell is all this crap? I won’t allow you to win, you tyrant. I’m taking back Vale!”

Turning around to face Oobleck once more, she glared, before uttering a single word to the Torturer:

“Farewell.”

Now facing the luminous opening in front of her, Weiss pushed the blade through, and immediately after – the entire fabric of Oobleck shattered.

Floating above the sandy desert, Weiss was back.

“Holy shit!” Oliver shouted from afar. “The Chancellor’s back.”

Before anyone could process the reunion with her people, the cracks of the cosmos reappeared once more, shaking the entirety of Remnant near and far. And behind those bright distortions of space – were two Maidens clashing.

Smashing her hammer against Cinder’s fire dome, Nora managed to send Cinder flying back far down into the sand. Quickly regaining her balance, Cinder grabbed a handful of sand from the dirt, and proceeded to superheat them underneath her long flowing right sleeve to form them into fragments of glass. Using her Aura to pull them together into the absurd shape of a minigun spawning under the fabric.

To respond in kind, Nora’s hammer morphed, shrinking itself before transforming into a heavy grenade launcher, similar in shape to the head of the hammer. She held the gun while floating inside a dome of electricity, and fired them off down into the sand as Cinder blasted back powerful rains of bullets slashing upward, leaving behind furious trails of fire.

The grenades caught fire and immediately detonated, easily having enough power to crater a continent. And yet, in the middle of it all was Cinder cackling as if she had lost her mind. Which was doubtful to any soldier watching, for many did not think she was ever actually sane to begin with.

Not far from where the Maidens were fighting, the Fleet Admiral continued to battle Oobleck’s green goo. Slicing at any attack coming at him in every direction. But the moment the cracks of the cosmos began to appear clearer and clearer in the darkening sky, was the moment Oobleck turned around, alongside his numerous clones, to let out a huge audible groan of a defeated frustrated legion of demons.

Knowing the turning tides, Oobleck slipped into the sand, taking the goo with him. And just like that – he was gone.

Maru tried to chase after him, slicing into the ground to create a massive fissure. But he found nothing under the crumbling rocks the moment they opened out into the open for all to see. It was as if Oobleck were never here in the first place.

Back on the other side far away, the Maidens continued as Cinder gathered up more heated crystals before forming them into a hundred floating javelins, with her now ready to toss them up at Nora, who was powering herself up with dense electrical currents.

Ready to clash once more, they dashed toward one another, prepared to go all out, only to then suddenly be stopped by a rapier flying past the two of them, ripping the air between them with enough force to create a mini cyclone that stopped the two of them dead in their tracks.

“That’s enough!” Weiss shouted, descending from on high.

Here in the middle of the desert, three gods would face off against one another. Despite being an ally of the Empire, Cinder’s murderous intent for both Nora and Weiss was still somewhere deep behind those fiery pupils of hers. She was practically licking her lips with uncontrollable hunger.

But ultimately, she powered down, for she knew this battle was coming to a close now that the odds were in their favor once again. Vacuo may have possessed a Maiden, but that was still not enough to win a war.

And Nora knew this. So, she too powered down and collected herself. The hammer she held in her hand remained firm, still bloodied with Atlesian soldiers, but now finally resting from its first fight.

With a simple wave of her hand, Nora’s lightning bolts scattered across the battlefield far and wide to collect the remaining soldiers of Vacuo. With divine power, she teleported those riders away from this desert into some far-off location, and then proceeded to disappear into the electricity herself, leaving behind no trace for anyone to track or follow.

Chapter Text

Standing outside in the barren land and looking up at the darkening sky, Raven and Ruby noticed the cracks forming, disappearing, reappearing, all echoing in strange places. Not just in the air and the clouds, but in the fabric of the stones, the textures of the soil.

“What is all this?” Raven wondered, placing her hand on her blade.

“Ah, just in time,” Rubio smirked, “definitely saw this one coming.”

“You wanna explain to me what it is you’re planning?”

“You don’t need to worry about a thing. A god’s business is their own. All you’re here for is to cut. That’s it, no questions asked.”

Raven spat a mouthful to the side, clearly wanting to be anywhere but here. While, of course, holding back the urge to slap Rubio across his face.

“Look,” said Rubio, “those cracks there are making the structure of the universe unstable. Meaning we’ll be able to access far realms we normally wouldn’t be able to. So it’s the perfect opportunity.”

“It takes a lot of energy to open a portal. Just a small one the size of a dog is already enough to concuss me. You do realize what you’re asking me to do, right?”

“With my Aura here amplifying your own, I promise that you will live.”

“And what if I tell you there will be more unforeseen consequences? You said you wanted us to be family, and yet, you’re awfully unconcerned with what’s about to happen to me. My Semblance is a curse, like a virus. It can fuck up my brain, and maybe even give me cancer. Some ‘niece’ you are.”

“Then maybe with these cancer cells you’ll finally have time to visit your daughter back home.”

Dumbfounded, Raven stood there staring with her mouth wide open. Still struggling to process while Rubio gave the brightest smile he could muster:

“Now come on, shut your mouth and get to it.”

Far out there, storms gathered, bringing with them strong winds that blew against one another. Cracks of bright plates continued to set ablaze, crackling with the sound of soft thunder and cold hail. Raven had never been scared of strong tides, cyclones, or even a tsunami. She sailed the seas for longer than she could count. There were no corners of the world’s waters that she was unfamiliar with.

But this new sound of crackle was something else entirely. Almost like a crinkling of tin, smashing the air together, or folding it. But to bend something so big, so intangible, Raven knew this could only be the work of a god, a real god, one of divinity. And she could take a guess at who it was, for she knew that power once before, still stinging in her scar.

“Ready when you are.”

Drawing out her massive scythe and planting it on the ground behind her, Ruby was ready, smiling and winking her silver eye. Her body now rippling with hidden gravitating Aura, shifting her form. Her gloves were tightened and the grip on the weapon firm, ready to carry it to the beyond.

“Well… it’s been fun knowing you,” said Raven.

Without a second to waste, the Aura from Raven’s blade bloomed to the size of a mountainous tornado, towering far in the stratosphere, whirling with crimson clouds and sparks of light. Glowing like a murderous star, the whirling noise of bright quaking steel continuously sharpened the sword beyond the level of any mortal blacksmith.

The stamina of the Pirate God was yet to be fully recovered, there were still wounds from the previous battles that made things difficult. But the true strength of Aura came from the soul, the gravity of the spirit itself, even if one’s physical attributes were not all there.

Driving down the sword with her left hand, Raven struck.

Exploding in front of her, creating a portal so large that it dwarfed every mountain or tower on the planet, stretching to a height enough to reach the moon itself. Taking advantage of the cracks from those cosmic storms, she tore the space and its molecular bond as far as she could, slicing it apart like it were a sheet of paper made out of indestructible steel.

Steel of a mortal meeting steel of the world, with the Aura of Rubio amplifying and protecting Raven’s own, she was barely able to deflect any incoming damage to her mortal body, letting it slide off and hitting the ground behind her, cratering a large section of stone, crashing the ground itself into dust.

Now barely able to keep herself on her feet, Raven planted the blade on the ground to balance herself, preventing her from being knocked down. Glancing up, she saw the red portal, but it was only for a brief second. Matter of fact, it lasted even less than that, no more than a couple milliseconds at the most. For she knew the fabric of the cosmos was too thick to penetrate with any meaningful or lasting consequences. So far, the only person capable of such a feat was that white one who could fly.

And yet…

When Raven turned around, Rubio was gone.

The battle at Signal continued, where Yang dashed forward swinging her fist, clashing against the heavy head of Qrow’s scythe. To follow up with several knee strikes before barraging him with combination blows, shooting forth several more shotgun blasts.

All of which would be gracefully blocked by Qrow’s spinning scythe, almost letting the weapon spin on its own with the momentum and technique he imparted on the handle. While the blade was spinning, he dodged around the collateral damage created from Yang’s shotgun blasts to sneak up on her, putting her in a headlock.

Only to then have Yang counter by setting herself on fire, elbowing Qrow in his gut and tossing him far in the distance to shatter a large section of walls, landing them outside in the courtyard of the Academy.

Qrow quickly stood back on his feet as he picked up a pebble to chuck it in the distance out of frustration before the pebble landed on a paint bucket, tipping it over to have it roll down some stairs, smashing into some scaffolding, crashing the entire thing, and there at the top of the structure were several workers’ helmets bouncing off one another from this domino, climbing high in the air far enough to smash into a tall flag pole, bouncing one of the helmets off in the opposite direction with such speed that it zipped through the air back into the hole where Yang and Qrow came from, knocking into the scythe stuck on the ground to have it whirling fiercely through air, finally having it land firmly in the palm of Qrow’s hands who was standing a good distance away.

“That Semblance of yours makes no damn sense,” said Yang.

“Maybe it isn’t my Semblance. Maybe I don’t even have one.”

Gripping the handle of the scythe, Qrow powered up once more. As Yang followed suit, with her antlers growing out farther and farther, her teeth getting sharper, and the scales on her body turning more numerous, hardening to almost like diamonds.

There, they dashed off the ground, ready to continue the fight – only to suddenly be stopped by a barrage of bullets raining from the far crackling sky.

Falling not far behind the heavy rounds came several massive metal balls the size of a person’s fist, crashing into the hard concrete below to create vast tremors that shattered nearby walls and towers. That round smooth metal ball was unmistakable.

This was the work of none other than Samantha Vulf, General of the Air Force.

Flying far in the sky in a suit of armor that covered from her head to her torso, she circled the sky beautifully with a massive pair of mechanical wings roaring behind the armor, blasting with heavy fire propelling her in midair. Taking off the armor now that she had arrived, she dove headfirst onto the ground, landing gracefully on her feet with enough force to thoroughly crack the tiles of polished stone coating the grounds of the school.

And there, following shortly behind the General, was her disciple General Rredd Williams. Landing behind just like her after also taking off his own armor, standing tall, letting his long red hair flow.

Together, the two of them had arrived, bringing with them the Skyknights of Mantle. Proud warriors of the North donning mechanical winged armors to block out the very sun itself from the sheer number of troops alone. With wing spans that were easily as long as ten meters. These men and women carried their rifles with pride. Their helmets and visors protecting their face from the wind resistance. The metal on their bodies glowing with all the colors of Dust, ready to be deployed at a moment’s notice.

These were the elite troops of General Sam’s Air Force. One Sam had meant to do battle against the flying troops of the Vacuo Kingdom, if they had managed to arrive sooner. The Maidens entering the fight quickly shifted the playing field, which surprisingly resulted in a battle that ended a little quicker than expected. Or perhaps the truth was that it only really ended with the return of the Superman.

But here, with the new commotion now going on at the island of Patch, the Skyknights were still in need, with a new mission, as the fact of the matter was – the war was still raging on.

War by nature is unpredictable. But the will of gravity can go in many ways. Observe.

Standing there facing Yang, now a three-on-one, Sam and Rredd adjusted their uniforms, dusting themselves off, before Sam shouted at the dragon girl:

“What the hell is this? Some kinda circlejerk? I swear to Winter, you damn Valeans…”

“By the power of the Empire,” said Rredd, “you are hereby under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything…”

“Oh, piss off!” Yang spat at Rredd, to which he promptly dodged.

“Kid,” Qrow extended his hand, “listen to them. Turn yourself in, maybe you’ll get a reduced sentence. Don’t make this any more difficult than it already is.”

Yang scoffed, before pulling out from her pocket a purple cartridge filled with Gravity Dust, to everyone’s surprise. She jammed it into her right gauntlet, letting it glow brightly of that violent violet gleam before holding it out for the three of them to see.

“You people are going to fall,” she said, “and no matter what happens, I am not going to miss that – but until then…”

Spinning around, she punched a hole wide open in midair, shocking everyone of her capability to generate a portal with such absolute ease. They knew the massive amount of energy required to accomplish such a thing. And nobody, save the Superman, had the raw power to brute force open a portal.

So the only logical conclusion here was that her weapon had been upgraded with a new modification for this portal ability. Energy and resources were finite, so she must have had a limited number of cartridges.

The real question, of course, was where would she even get the technology for this kind of device? Or perhaps they ought to wonder who was the one providing her behind the scenes?

All questions left unanswered as Yang disappeared into the portal, leaving behind no trace.

Throwing the ball as hard as he could, the ball leaped out of Jaune’s hand at blazing speed, zipping through the air before landing squarely in the thin glove of one of the kids.

The scroll attached to the side of his belt managed to pick up a speed of 120 miles per hour, which seemed right at home for an ordinary person with basic Aura training. Jaune himself did not feel impressed, but the kids begged to differ on the account of their starry eyes admiring the young man.

“That was awesome, big bro!” Melone shouted, joining a few other kids as they crowded around Jaune.

“Aw, come on guys,” Jaune scratched his head, “it’s not a big deal. I know some of the guys at the Academy who can throw ten times as fast.”

“It’s still faster than any of us can throw,” said Melone. “Show us how you did it, please. Pretty please.”

“Alright, alright, ha-ha. I basically just copied what my buddy Cardin used to do. He’s not actually a thrower, he plays first base. But you know what they say, everybody starts out as a two-way player, and they throw until they can’t anymore. Then they choose between throwing and hitting. Let me tell ya, Cardin hits like a truck.”

Bringing the ball forth for the kids to see, Jaune then said:

“So basically, you wanna put your fingers across the seam like this for a fastball. It’ll create some backspin on the ball, making it fight the force of gravity. It’ll give this illusion of the ball rising. For the curveball, you wanna place your two fingers next to the horseshoe like this. And for it to curve, we gotta create topspin, instead of backspin. So we turn the wrist like this instead. Pretty cool right?”

Far in the distance, the parents of the children rushed over, interrupting this moment. Melone’s mother and father waved him over, shouting:

“Come quick! Come back home!”

It did not take long before Jaune noticed the pandemonium that followed behind. There, the tribesmen, all young and old, hurried off into the heart of their camp, herding each other into safety and numbers as they all stood witnessing the roar and crackle in the sky. Trembling with many falling to their knees either in reverence or fear.

Zipping behind those cracks were the Skyknights, conquering the sky. Flying in perfect formation, too numerous to count. Numbered in the hundreds, maybe even the thousands.

Emerging from the clouds behind these elite sky warriors came large airships. On the masts, the Empire’s megaphones sounded off, echoing a stern robotic message:

“RETURN TO YOUR HOMES. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. DO NOT RESIST. FOLLOW YOUR ORDERS.”

Sienna was not entirely sure if she was fully onboard with this absurd plan. On the account she really did not know what it was she was supposed to be looking for. Watts warned her just as much about the difficulty of this task.

Searching for the history of something that did not want to be found, something that perhaps the very cosmos itself was going out of its way to hide away.

She did not really understand the science behind it all, which seemed like magic to her anyway, but she was sure that there had to be something to find here in the Kingdom of Mistral. A long-lasting empire in its own way, one with a rich ancient history.

A land of rain, raining over muddy streets, over old architecture, over the Temple of Fall. There was a story here of Eastern oppression. A long story of rich emperors and empresses eating from the bowls the rice grown off the backs of farmers and peasants, pulling salt from their foreheads, and lashing them ever so silently. A country that isolated itself from the rest of the world, just so it could carry out the will of the unjust within its border without anybody from the outside bothering them.

In this sense, Mistral was a close sister to Atlas. Perhaps even worse in some ways, where it sat on its throne watching children playing in the mud, while other kids broke their backs carrying heavy stone fruits to sell, baskets on top of baskets, just so they could bring something back home to their shacks being held up by thin sheets of metal and thick cloth.

The fathers labored away at this salty soil where nothing could grow, shoveling manure, dirt, scraps, and even dead bodies, anything that they could sell to bring dinner back home. Home where the mothers cared for their children, still hungry, while men and women made of gold ate in the inner cities, eating other lower lords. Basking in the glory of their Maiden.

But of course, the Maiden was not here, nowhere back at home. Instead, she carried ships and troops off into the far lands, into the heart of the Valley. Where she herself traveled further length into the heat of the desert on the other side of the globe.

Sienna saw this, and felt sympathy upon the sight of those dying under the rain and the reign.

Cruel tyranny, she was deeply familiar with. What was one thing that was unique to this land, however, was a strange culture of gladiators.

Powerful golden fighters clad in armor to be put in an arena to fight one another for sport, for ceremony, for training, for power, for glory.

Many of these golden warriors were Huntsmen of the East. Some were not officially enrolled or enlisted, and instead were privately trained, paid for. But all of them were revered as heroes and gods. The strongest Mistral had to offer, for they ate out of glass bowls using silver spoons and marble forks. They were fed and conditioned until their bodies could take blows no other mortal could withstand.

The best arenas were no doubt located deeper in the golden jungles of Mistral, closer and closer to the heart of the capital. But there were many other places as well, smaller stadiums and even dojos to offer training and food for anyone willing to take up the life. For many children of Mistral, this was a way for them to escape the cruel grip of poverty. Out into the wild to fight, or they would starve. The choice here was obvious.

One of these places was an abandoned throwball stadium located somewhere near two hospitals. Though, truth be told, calling this place abandoned would be incorrect as many Huntsmen and fighters alike from lower income areas still used these moldy grassy grounds as a place to train. There was no maintenance, no tax money funding the repairs. Only the occasional sound of steel clashing, and the moisture of the sweat wetting the old concrete.

Sienna entered at the sounds of weapons clashing. Going through the darkness of the corridor and into the darkness of the night’s field, there she saw four fighters – two men, two women.

By all accounts, these men and women were giants above mortals, all nearly seven feet tall. With two of the men wearing nothing but a single shoulder armor painted gold over the right shoulder to expose their strong bulging muscles.

The women, similarly muscular, stood no taller than the men, but were also massive beasts. All four glaring at one another with powerful combat Auras, sharp eyes staring through golden helms shining of a starry gleam in the middle of the night.

On their belts were sheaths hanging over armor woven into strips forming a defensive skirt, defending the lower parts of their bodies, from the waists down to their knees. And below that were simple combat sandals.

A shield in one hand, and either a sword or a spear in the other, these fighters swung with the force of focused disciplined beasts. Sparks of steel and Aura flying bright, sometimes without the metal making contact, only pure Aura. The round golden shields seemed heavy, but the strength boosted from sweat knew no bounds. Courageously dragging them along like they were made of paper.

Sienna saw this, and she was not necessarily impressed. Rather she was simply cautious, as this was still a foreign land, and she was outnumbered. It would be very unlikely to take them all out by her lonesome self. Her gut feeling, however, told her that this was where she wanted to be. She couldn’t exactly figure out the reason why. But the mystery of the gravity between people was not something easily understood.

“Who are you?” One of them asked in an Eastern tongue.

Sienna could speak some of these, but she was more familiar with those in the Valley and in Menagerie. Straining her ears, she listened on.

“Come to join us in the fight? Tournaments are around the corner.”

Revealing herself, Sienna approached. She then tried to say:

“What tournament?”

“Doesn’t matter. There’s always a tournament of strength. Many people host them. It is a good way to make a name for ourselves.”

“But what we’re really after is to be immortalized.”

“Tell me more,” Sienna said.

“Why? You should know about the Golden Gladiators. Unless, you’re not from around here.”

“That’s a good guess.”

“I thought you were a foreigner, alright. Your accent is very thick. Second language?”

“Yes. I’m… I travel the world. I would like to learn more stories. If you’re willing to share.”

“Certainly. We’d be happy to.”

“Tell me about some of these immortalized Gladiators. Ones in the last five years or so.”

“Well, that’s oddly specific.”

“You’re in luck, because about six years ago, one of the greatest warriors of the East came to fight, wearing gold, wielding many swords.”

“How many swords?” Sienna asked.

“Too many. That was her fighting style. We’re not entirely sure how she was able to levitate them. Either she used a complex device with Gravity Dust cartridges, or she possessed some sort of telekinetic ability with her Semblance.”

“She was the greatest among us. No one could best her in combat. It’s strange she didn’t stay long. Just came and went, like the wind.”

Squinting her eyes, Sienna asked:

“What was her name?”

All in unison, the four of them answered:

“Penny Polendina.”

Laboring away at the farm, Kali’s headache struck her once more. Falling to one knee with a shovel still dirty, gripped tightly in her hand. The gloves had been ripped wide, now covering her palms only as a mark of tradition, of familiarity. For neither she nor anybody here on this island really knew what else to do with the world around them moving forward. Forth now, without them.

“Kali!” Ghira sprinted over, catching his wife. “Let’s take a rest, dear. We’ve been at this for far too long.”

Coughing, Kali replied:

“I’ll be fine. Just gotta finish off this block. Can’t… rest ‘til then.”

“Then please, drink some water… mother.”

Spinning their heads around, and their eyes widened with tears welling up the moment the sun hit down unto the shadows of that young man, in his new outfit, with that imposing black long coat flowing from his shoulders. And that red hair shielding those bull horns, there was no mistake about it.

Walking toward his mother, over the seeds, over the growing crops, Adam took off his mask. Now with his eyes also welling up as he waved awkwardly, not entirely sure what to say.

“Hello… mother… father.”

Leaping off from the ground, seemingly now without any of her injuries, worries, or other hidden pains, or perhaps it was simply so because she had forgotten them within the moment. But she stood strong, reaching out to touch the face of her son.

Caressing him as she once did years ago when he was a babe. With his soft, rough cheeks full of scars, she was then sure that the Dream of those far above was not tricking her with illusions. Her son was indeed standing here right in front of her. After all this time, living through so much torment.

He was finally back home.

“Please,” said Adam, trembling, “please drink some water. I can see you’re exhausted. Please don’t punish yourself for me. I never wanted you to worry, I…”

Cutting himself off, Kali pulled him in for the tightest embrace of her life. Squeezing him as hard as she could, just as Adam himself reflexively followed suit. Despite him still being soaked with shock, knowing the blood on his hands was something not easily washed off. But he still missed his mother dearly, and that was something he treasured, burying himself deep in her hair, letting the tears all out, dripping down his face.

He believed in the cause, in virtues. But he was not proud of many things he had done.

And yet, still, after all of that, all the fighting, the loss, the bloodshed, the arguments, they could finally have one brief moment to let out a tense breath. Just to rest for one night, before the morning rose once more for a new day of toiling.

But Adam was never one to care for what was in that tomorrow. Gifts of prophecy eluded him, and he actively avoided them. The past was his true goal, only now perhaps realizing that it was a goal sometimes at the expense of the present. And the present told him he had a family still, back home on this island.

Emerging from trees and humble homes came the people of this island, his people of this island, this island in the South. So miserable but still hopeful and praying. All of which through despair had been answered at last as the best and strongest of them all had finally returned home to Eden.

They crowded around him, wanting to touch him, shake his hand. But truly, they just wanted to share in the pain and tears. They cheered for his return, but solemnly and quietly, just barely a whisper. For they still feared the watchful eyes of the Empire. Adam, too, was cautious of this when he arrived. Wanting to quickly go in and out.

But it was not so easy. Now that–

“You are home,” said Ghira. “My son.”

Chapter Text

Passages from the Holy Book of Dawn.

Chapter 1:

From JRMN came first thought. And This Lord, who serves his LORD he knows not in Beyond, came to observe the sand and the blank. The thought spoke words, commanding forth: ‘This scroll of Fate and Law decrees for life. And thus, life was allowed.’

There was cold nothing, but nothing to shelter from the cold, so thus, This Lord allowed Winter to flourish and wither.

There was warmth and heat, but no heart or drums, so thus, This Lord allowed Summer to flourish and wither.

There was a bone, not of life, tasted of stone, not of food or soil, so thus, This Lord allowed Spring to flourish and wither.

There was void-sea, but nothing swam in it, no wind to blow, so thus, This Lord allowed Autumn to live and mourn.

All four would come forth at the same time. To shape the worlds and their heavens by Law of DSTN and Dream of JRMN.

…

Chapter 37:

Winter had a moon, larger and beautiful. Its crystal light could light up all corners of this Dream, brighter than Remnant and its brothers and sisters. And for that, Summer grew jealous of that beauty. ‘For why is Winter allowed to be the keeper of the end?’ Summer asked, wanting to know what is to come.

‘Why is Winter to hold heavens together, keeping us from leaving and knowing what is to come? If it is in her nature to guard, then it is in my nature to know. I must know, so that I may serve This Lord more faithfully.’ From this, Summer hatched a scheme to steal that brightest moon of Winter’s cold.

Now by decree, the stealing of another was outlawed and immoral. So Summer will have to trick This Lord and his sister’s Law. She came before This Lord and argued, ‘if the Law is good, we Seasons must be free to shift as we are pleased until everything is ordered.’ Winter called this a cosmic sin, yet one that was allowed for this holy dance of art, for it is said that by wisdom will one learn what mystery This Lord’s will must be, what This Lord allows won’t be like that of what we, who know nothing, would allow.

Summer was good and god. And allowed the stealing of this bright crystal moon. Plucked from the sky as the rage of the Winter sky furied with passion for This Lord and the Law.

This Lord saw beforehand that Summer will not commit grief against the Law, but he knew still there was justice to carry out for the sake of Winter. So from one of Summer’s servants came an illusionist called Zoz.

This Zoz had gifts of Summer, also holding a green fire that saw glimpses beyond the moon. Greedy and hungry, wanting knowledge water from its well, Zoz leaped over mountains, jumping high, he pocketed the moon, and placed it inside his eyes. Now blessed with Summer’s magical sunlight for them to glimpse things beyond.

Furious, Winter came after them. But she knew well that This Lord had already declared Summer sinless from breaking any Law. Thus so, the only way for Winter’s wind to blow back for vengeance was upon Zoz himself. And there, cast down into the earth, Winter declared: ‘May you never taste the whole fruit of Summer again, and only the scraps from the withering softening core. May you see things as predicted but be subjugated by cosmic Law. May you rule over nothing but fallen towns and palaces, to never know the fruits of kingdoms or empires, only to be known in name, this is the curse for you. Begone.’

As it was decreed, Zoz was tossed down, to be named something else, having scraps of divinity but no longer fully divine.

Thus, justice was done. Those who are wise in the way of the Law, study this case and learn the difficult wisdom of This Lord’s decree. Learn why things were thus as it is written, and why Summer was sinless, why the punishment of this servant was adequate justice for Winter. You will not understand this until the day you return Dreaming and ask This Lord. But study it, and contemplate the difficult wisdom of the Law.

…

Chapter 107:

So thus, this was the heavenly mission of Auric the Lionshana. From him where rivers of Aura flowed from; the rivers of life. Hailed and served by This Lord as the one true Son of his LORD from the Beyond. Here to deliver the people from mortal sin that separated them from true Virtues of Eden. The LORD in mortal flesh, as JRMN would then praise unto.

Possessing Virtues of all four Seasons, immaculately birthed through their spirit, but truthly descended from LORD Beyond. There the songs of fire, ice, earth, wind echoed to praise the Son. Prophesied to sacrifice himself under the sins of those who knew not of the Law.

Now these were the names of the eight disciples of Auric. Four men and four women to serve the teachings of Auric who taught of the power of the Seasons. Red, Blue, Mandi, Steel, Angel, Iro, Maro, Sama. All loyal disciplic Giants, followers of the Golden King Auric, Lionshana.

…

Chapter 117:

Red came to her King Auric, upon a mountain looking down. There overlooking the island to the south, Auric taught the importance of temptation of power. Those with greatness like the disciples will be lured into using them without just. For the wise and strong knew well of boundaries and the Law, restraint and DSTN.

‘You have done great unto the name of good,” Auric said to Red. ‘If you will follow me into worlds Beyond, then there is still much to do.’

‘Yes, LORD. Where you go, I will follow.’

‘In these specks your form is such so that the sinful people can understand. But my Father will use any who are willing for the purpose of divinity. You have done your duty in these specks. So now another shall take your place. But your color here must rest. Be at peace, for you have sacrificed as in my image. Follow me elsewhere, let yourself here be lifeful, but yourself that which is with me to follow me.’

And so, Red obeyed. Returning to the farm, forevermore. Knowing in other specks she would be something else, but still the same.

…

Chapter 121:

Betraying the Son, Mandi came handing Auric over to the Oniyurian government, for the sake of the silver he pocketed. Brought before the Accuser, King Mazon. Held before a court, Mazon asked: ‘Are you of man or of Faunus?’

To which Auric simply replied: ‘I am of my Father, and my Father of me. And my Father made you all in His image, LORD. All are in service of Him, even the Seasons and This Lord.’

Seeing what he saw as a blasphemer, Mazon ordered an executioner to beat King Auric, before sharpening a blade himself to cut off his lion’s tail. Throughout it all, he bled, bruised by lashes, clubs, spit, and alcohol, but he remained firm, strong and humble.

‘Call Angel to your side,’ said Mazon, ‘if you truly are the Savior, then call your servant, that loyal Angel to your side and heal your blood. Where is your army, O’ great King?’

And to this, Auric responded: ‘If I will it, Angel alone would be enough to consecrate these grounds to make you all infertile from the breath of life. If I will it, Iro would bring forth metal from the ground and wage burning wrath on those who dare touch their blades. If I will it, Steel would recite words of dominion and change your souls into stones. Maro, Sama, Red, Blue, they too knew how you would rue the day you blasphemed the name of my Father using his servants in the Law and Dream, using the servant’s servants in those four as you see fit. Blessed are those who know the words of heavens, and who know restraint as the true wisdom of true strength.’

Furious, Mazon ordered the guards to take Auric away, for him to be beaten and executed during the day. To make sure the innocent babes of Oniyuri could witness the blood of their King.

…

Chapter 137:

And thus, the monks of Vale calculated from dusk till dawn that day. Understanding the decree from This Lord JRMN that the birth of Auric shall be christened as year 0, with all the years before to be labeled ‘BA’ and all the years after to be labeled ‘AA.’ Stepping into a new age to begin anew, awaiting the day of Divine Returning.

…

In the year 3335 AA, the Atlesian Superman invaded the heart of the Valley, the God King escaped into hiding, Vale would fall.

Chapter Text

“Show me your work, Watts.”

Taking one long stride across his office, one long step like an ostrich, Watts stepped onto a hidden tile placed near the bookshelf. Then another step just to a different tile beneath the couch, before gracefully backflipping onto the wooden desk, tapping lightly on a blue ballpoint pen, then swiftly kicking it off the table and onto a miniscule keypad hidden behind the wine case. So small, one would not be able to discover it under normal circumstances.

With this sequence of bizarre actions, the floor unraveled itself to reveal a pathway leading down to a hidden compartment, welcoming both Watts and Sleet into the dark secrets below.

“I had this place built years back,” said Watts. “You have no idea the troubles I went through to hide it from higher eyes. Her eyes.”

“If anybody could figure it out, it’d be you.”

Walking up to a thick metal door down this dark place, Watts typed a password into the keypad for steam to be released, opening up the mechanical chamber inside. A mostly empty room with a glass window leading to a control panel in the back. While at the center of this room was a peculiar contraption. Two metal mechanical tubes from the ceiling, hanging over a circular platform beneath. Just the right size for a mortal to step on and insert both their arms into the tubes. For what purpose?

“I’ve always known spatial travel was possible,” said Watts. “Immensely difficult, however. It requires an obscene amount of energy. I have certain devices that allow that. All our allies now have limited access to that kind of travel. What I never really predicted was the existence of the multiverse. That opens up too many possibilities.”

Instantly tackling the elephant in the room, Sleet asked:

“Are you… thinking of bringing someone over to defeat the Superman?”

Only to have the hope for that dashed when Watts replied:

“No. It is too risky to recruit things from worlds we know nothing about. What’s more important, however, is that I do not believe there is anything in the multiverse that can defeat our Superman.”

“So… what exactly are you planning then?”

Turning on the lights in this room to reveal a shower of crimson. Bright crystalized beams from the ceiling illuminating the metal plating of the walls like blood. Staring at the contraption with pride, Watts simply smirked:

“Have you ever wondered what would happen if we pitted the multiverse itself against her?”

Gathering in the middle of his tent, the Fleet Admiral sat on top a crate of ammunition, rubbing his eyepatch to try to ease the pain of the battle. After all, it was not common to go up against a god and a master illusionist and come out of the fight unscathed.

Maru was immensely skilled, but he appreciated the fate of only minor injuries. He kept his distance during his fight with Oobleck, because it was impossible to know what would happen if he had been swallowed by that green goo.

The electricity of Spring was not to be underestimated either. He knew that well, and so did the members of team GOLD, who stood in front of their mentor, saluting him.

“At ease, soldiers,” Maru commanded.

Now getting up from the crate, he stood tall, quickly saluting back, and held a strong tall pose.

“You’ve all done exemplary work in this war so far. As it is expected of GOLD excellence. But we still have a long journey ahead.”

“The troops are well on their way toward Patch as planned,” said Ghost. “We’ll have established a reinforced base in approximately seventeen hours.”

“Some of the civilians still need to be evacuated,” said Lisa, “but fortunately, nobody was hurt during the Signal incident.”

“Be sure to keep an eye on that Qrow Branwen,” said Maru. “He isn’t Atlesian, and he is incredibly dangerous.”

“You got it, boss,” Oliver smiled. “I won’t let him out of my sight.”

“Good. Now, something else I need to know,” Maru said, turning to Diamond who was on a computer screen. “Report soldier – where are Agent Myst and Agent Rosso?”

Following the four golden warriors, Sienna was led to a stone far in the distance. Far beyond the trains, the buildings, the facilities, the hospitals, the roads, deeper into uncultivated territories of Mistral that had yet to house any house or train any train. In an empty place still overflowing with old trees and rivers, with a few farmers crawling their lands ever so slowly in the distance. An unconquered place.

Here, the stone was strange, just as it was large. About the size of a small ox. But more notable were the numerous blades of different shapes and sizes sticking out of the surface of the stone. Longswords, daggers, rapiers, broadswords, scimitars, cutlasses, and many more. All lodged deep into the rock, clean cuts.

“These,” one of the warriors said, “are her swords. Penny’s swords.”

Pulling one of the blades out of the rock, Sienna felt the metal tugging on tight. But now that it was out of the stone, she could see the peculiarity in that there were no scratches on the surface of the steel. It wasn’t even bent as she inspected it closer, looking at it from all angles, and even noticing the cleanliness on the hilt, the metal, the sharp edges. Which suggested to her a forceful Aura that once coated this blade, making it much more powerful than its simple construction.

“There’s really nothing else you can tell me about this Penny?”

To Sienna’s shock, the moment she turned around, she was met with the absurd sight of the four golden warriors’ corpses on the ground.

All of them having been fiercely pierced through their chests, now bursting forth a river of blood. Cleanly slicing through any armor they were wearing. Not a single drop of blood dared touch the spears, the swords, the shields.

There standing over these empty-eyed bodies, Krim Rosso stood tall leaning onto his fiery burning spear. The fire illuminated them in the dark, showing blood dripping down the young man’s face, soaking his bandana as well as his long coat and his shirt. From behind, his brother Azur emerged, holding tight on the side of his ribs, while also leaning on Krim for balance. He too was covered in severe bruises, blood dripping down his mouth.

Out of breath, Azur forced out just enough to form a coherent sentence:

“Where… the fuck are we?”

Being stunned by this absurdity, Sienna wasn’t entirely sure of what to do. She readied herself, of course, because while the golden warriors were caught off guard and thus were not defeated fairly, the fact they were able to sneak up behind them at all was no small feat. And to penetrate their passive Aura as well in just a single swift hit. These two, Sienna knew, were not to be underestimated.

“Easy now, fellas,” she said, “there’s no need to get violent.”

Ignoring her completely, Azur pointed his pistol toward her, lighting it with his powerful electrical Aura, still full of bloodlust and exhaustion.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” She raised her hand, “Calm down! I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Who are you?” Azur asked. “What is this place? What year is this?”

“It’s the summer of 3340, this is the valley off the coast of Oniyuri, and my name is Sienna. Pleased to be your acquaintance.”

“How do we know this isn’t an Oobleck illusion?” Azur asked.

“An ‘Oo’ what? Listen, I have no idea what on earth you’re talking about.”

“Tell us something only you would know.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to prove? We hardly know each other. Look, just calm down and be rational, yeah? Nobody is going to hurt you. Those injuries look very serious, so why don’t you put the gun down and I’ll help you get some medical attention, how’s that sound?”

“I don’t trust you,” said Azur. “We need proof, hard proof.”

“Alright, alright, please, just take a deep breath and take it from the top. Start from the beginning. Tell me what happened.”

“What is there to tell?” Azur shrugged, wiping his forehead, “We killed this guy Tukson we’ve been tracking then…”

The rest became muffled noise that refused to penetrate through to Sienna’s empty expression. And there, deep inside, something snapped apart into a violent ringing of a bell in her mind that blocked her from even registering her instincts. The muscles began moving on their own, as did the fighting spirit that powered her dense Aura, now imbuing her body with powerful rageful energy.

Instantly letting her signature rope dart fly forth from those strong steel chains she held in her hand, zipping past the two brothers after they had willed forth enough strength to dodge this vicious attack. Coming from this young woman whose blank expression now slowly morphed into one of emerging anger, darkening her gaze into a killing intent. She no longer cared that she was outnumbered, nor did she care that she was probably going to die. There was nothing left but a mind consumed by sorrowful vengeance.

Azur and Krim also readied their fighting stances. Still exhausted, but they must defend themselves. Especially now that they had witnessed emerging from the shadow another figure that seemed to have followed Sienna. There, that tall lanky man dashed toward them, with his eyes exploding with blissful excited madness.

Cinder’s consort, CEO of CalVis Corporation – Tyrian Callows.

Caressing these old books, Adam stared on as he smelled the scent of the past. Old leather covers made by the local bookshops, tanning those animals who grew up on this very island itself. Grazing on the grass that had been growing for thousands of years. Next to crops of simple farmers, Faunus kind of Menagerie.

This old study was built off the backs of these poor suffering men. Taking woods from deeper in the heartland, to then sand them down and build into these gorgeously crafted tables and papers for office use. Writing on these would be a joy and a privilege, Adam knew this well after composing countless letters alongside his father Ghira. Reflecting back, Adam wasn’t entirely sure if he had fully enjoyed the luxury he had been provided here, riches of a rich man, things that those from Atlas coming over would not be able to tell apart from their home. But the buildings, the books, the papers, the wine, these were all things that were gifted to the Belladonna family, out of respect and love. They labored, yes, but they were happy to.

Walking into the room, noticing Adam reminiscing, a quiet smile then appeared on Ghira’s face.

“I guess we’ve both been away from here for far too long,” he said.

Adam turned his head, then put the book he was holding back on the shelf. Ghira continued:

“I have the farms, and you have our White Fang.”

Adam shook his head:

“Most of us have gone west. They’re scattered… I don’t… I don’t know how many of us are left.”

“Well – you’re here. So that’s at least one.”

Falling silent, Adam turned around before he gently removed his White Fang mask, looking on toward Ghira’s caring gaze.

“Father… do you remember the day you found me and Ilia?”

Nodding his head, still smiling, Ghira said:

“Of course, my son. I remember.”

“Then do you still believe in what you told me? That I am… chosen?”

Looking around his office here once more, taking in the scent of the scenery of the rustic wood of the craft of the lost memories of the things that Ghira held dear in his heart. To then place his hand on his son’s shoulder, also someone he struggled to fully remember of all good things.

“The prophecies are a part of our legacy, son. The Lionshana was here, fulfilling that old covenant. But there are other prophecies of things yet to come. Our people have waited for far too long to return to Eden. What you are, Adam, who you are – cannot be a coincidence. Your red hair, your Faunus horns.”

“So… then I never had a say in any of that? Did you prepare me for this after all these years? Molding into who I am?”

“Adam…”

“Can’t… can’t I just keep pretending to be your son?”

Realizing his mistake, Ghira pulled him in close, hugging him as tight as he could as Adam himself reluctantly embraced his father. Now unable to see each other’s faces, they could comfortably let out a river of tears.

“You are my son. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“I love Eden, just as I love scripture, father. But now, our White Fang is dwindling, Ilia is no longer by my side. Sun… I wish I know where he is. I… I just don’t know what to do.”

“I think – you do. Or you will. You just need to find home once more.”

Leading him out of the house and into the wide open sky above the farming kingdom, Adam was met with a flood of people, coming over to the front steps of their house, eagerly waiting to greet, gathering as a fleet, and bursting out their streets to meet the one they all put their faith in. The one they all believed to be that divine servant from far above, a prophecy in their holy texts, Red’s legacy, to deliver all back to Eden.

Memories were still strong, memories of things he did not fully understand. Things he did not even know how he came to possess. But these things seared his brain, impossible to ignore, almost as if it were a haunting. So was this a divine sign of a blessing? Or a curse?

“Father. I’ve been away for far too long. Will you help me catch up with our people?”

Placing a hand on his shoulder and smiling, Ghira said:

“Of course. Come, Uncle Rock here is a father now. Can you believe that?”

“Hello sir,” said Adam, coming down the steps, then proceeded to shake his hands, “you’ve always taken care of me. Thank you, sir. Now you have a little one of your own.”

“His name is Rocco, I can’t wait for you to meet him. You’ll be a great big brother.”

“Mrs. Luna still tends to her bookshop. What a simple life.”

“How do you do, Mrs. Luna? Long time.”

“Oh, look at you, my boy. You are so tall, I swear. Drop by for some tea sometime, yeah?”

“I will.”

“Look, here comes Mr. Snow. Still a sheep herder to this day. His terrible singing still echoes.”

“Hey, now, Ghira! I’ve gotten better. You’ll see, ha-ha.”

“How is your mother doing, Mr. Snow?” Adam asked. “Has she gotten better?”

“Ah, well, you know, she’s been fighting that cancer for a decade now, so I think ‘better’ is out of the question. She’s strong as an ox still, I tell you what. She won’t go down without a fight.”

“I will pray for her.”

“Big brother Adam!”

Two children ran to him, wrapping around his waist.

“Tanner, Ivy, how are you two doing? Look at you, you’ve grown so much. Last I saw you guys you were a pebble.”

“We’re no pebbles. We are mountains, rawr!”

“Ha, yes you are.”

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Kali chuckled, pushing through the crowd to approach Adam. In her hand, she carried a straw hat. “Here boy, weather’s hot around these parts. We all gotta take care or we’ll all sweat to death.”

“Thank you, mother. But I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Trying to put the hat on his head regardless, but she would then stop short the moment her eyes witnessed a strange glistening on his skin. Upon closer inspection, she realized the smooth shiny surface on Adam’s body was in fact the quiet roaring shine of his Aura – permanently coated from head to toe.

“Your Aura…”

Adam smiled:

“I don’t really understand it, and I don’t know how. I usually conserve my Aura reserves, I don’t usually coat myself, instead I just use my raw form. But lately, I’ve been remembering things. Things long ago. Things that make my blood boil. Literally. I am refreshed because of it. Because of dreams of Eden.”

“Then perhaps the prophecy cometh.”

Turning his head around, Adam saw two familiar faces approaching. The Albain brothers, Corsac and Fennec. Sons of the High Priest of Menagerie, who lived at the holy temple built at the heart of this country, constructed in a way to house him indefinitely, so that he may only come out into the open when necessary. His sons were his eyes, his arms, his legs. His agents to do as commanded.

Two fox brothers, dark-skinned, Corsac stood taller with a grey tail, while Fennec followed with his big yellow ears. Both wore with them exquisite white robes with ornate golden ceremonial breastplates over their torso. There at the heart of the plates were five fragments of Dust – Earth, Fire, Wind, Ice, and at the center, a chunk of Gravity Dust. All carved and stabilized by skillful blacksmithing hands and held together by their priestly Aura.

On their heads they wore these red hoods woven with white lining patterns, draping over their shoulders, designed for lower-ranking priests of the island. As they approached Adam, they took the headgear off to look at him more clearly. To see him under the shining sun.

“You remember Eden,” said Fennec. “Thank our King Auric, you remember.”

“Corsac, Fennec… you are out of the temple.”

“If you remember,” said Corsac, “then it means the prophecy was referring to you, brother. You are chosen of the LORD. There’s no doubt about it.”

“The followers of Auric have been persecuted for far too long, even by those who recite the same holy books,” Fennec continued. “We hide here mostly in this country while the rest of the world lose themselves in the Season’s idolatry. That can no longer stand. Now that you are here. The one prophesied to be renamed unto that holy name.”

“You mean…”

“Adamantine.”

The people all around whispered on, shocked at the mention. And yet, now that they were taking a closer look, their thoughts began to race.

From his right sleeve, seemingly out of nowhere, Corsac pulled forth a box. Flipping off the hinges he presented for all to see inside – a sheathed blade, identical to Adam’s old sword in many ways. And yet, clearly with new modifications and improvements. Nothing too major to completely turn it into something different. But enough for it to be polished and reach golden perfection.

“For you,” said Corsac, “a relic from an old age. Reinforced by all the blacksmiths in this country and blessed by the High Priest, who prays in the temple right this very moment.”

“Please accept it, brother,” said Fennec. “You are our people’s hope.”

Taking it from the box to feel the black steel of the handle, and Adam was instantly assaulted with feelings of familiarity. He could not really explain why or how. But he knew from what they had explained, this was something made anew. And yet, he felt no real difference from when he was wielding his old sword.

Taking the crimson blade out of the sheath confirmed this. The reflection off the sharp edges was just like those old days of the past, not too long ago, before he was put under arrest by the power of the Empire. Now back here in his home, he held this red sword once more.

Placing this by the side of his belt, he was then overcome with a sudden surge of conviction urging him on some place higher, on high.

So he walked, and walked, and the people followed him.

Walking on, after three days had passed, they arrived at the top of the mountain at the very heart of Menagerie. And there standing above stones, trees, grass, smaller hills, boulders, old skeletons, and even relics – Adam pulled forth his sword.

Kali whispered to Ghira:

“Has he ever been this strong?”

To which Ghira replied:

“He cut a train in half when he was empowered. But something is different. I can sense it. That thick Aura.”

Just as Ghira thought, the red power of that bloody Aura flared up with ease like the birth of a bright celestial star. In the past, Adam had difficulty reaching even half the level of this flowing Aura river. But now, it seemed as if the power flowing out of his body had no end. As he felt belief coursing through his veins, the beliefs in his people, his Virtues, his history, and in the story of Eden.

So, with one swift motion, he drove the blade onto the rock below where he stood, and instantly – the island began to shake. Just small tremors at first, that eventually grew into something much more devastating, quaking with a force nobody in this country had ever seen before. With such force, one would think that it was a prime time for these people to panic.

But it was not so.

For the buildings and the villages far down below this mountain had been completely covered and protected by Adam’s immense Aura, spreading so vast it penetrated the waters all surrounding the country. Sheltering children playing in the squares, the jungles, and keeping the holy temples from even a single scratch, as he was about to do the unthinkable.

The unthinkable that was prophesied by old scrolls, believed by these Faunus who hoped long ago that one day they could return to the rightful worship of King Auric, and thus return to Eden in that distant past.

And here, the prophecy spoke of a heavenly servant with the power to lift this very country out of the waters and into the deep magnificent sky. Far above the fish and the land animals, and in the cloudy kingdoms where light penetrated and danced of praising songs.

Adam was doing exactly just that on this day, now with his gravity exerting at a level he had never felt before in his life. He lifted, and continued lifting, keeping the sword still plunged deep into the stone as his Aura continued to grow stronger and stabilize.

Menagerie now floated up, revealing beneath this country at the bottom of this land mass – massive Gravity Dust crystals, still yet to be harvested.

These crystals were not aiding Adam. This act was his power alone, only boosted by faith. But what this crystal revealed was the true nature of this land, a nature that eluded many including the natives here. This here was the truth – this land was special.

And now the good word of King Auric’s people will spread to those foreigners who worship the Seasons. Were they wrong to faith in those primordial conceptual essences? Perhaps. But the Seasons, as it was written, were still servants of higher powers.

That was the truth.

The cracks in the air continued to rupture.

Watching the cracks all over the planet, Weiss floated there crossing her arms as she struggled to find Oobleck on Remnant. She knew of Oz’s tactics, to hide in another universe. But this thing called Oobleck felt different somehow, despite being a servant of that God King. She was not entirely sure she had won that exchange while trapped in that pocket world. Especially now that the world was beginning to fracture, crumbling apart in ways that made her think hard about her true strength.

There were other matters as well. And turning around, she faced Cinder Falls.

Both now hovering above this cliff overlooking the camp being built on Patch, soldiers pouring in to bring with them massive war machines. But none of that was a concern for Weiss at the current moment, for she still saw that smirk on Cinder’s face, and Weiss was not amused.

“You insult me,” said Weiss, glaring down at her. “You disobeyed my command, and left the shores in the east. Have you any defense?”

“I promised that my army will only occupy the shores. I never said anything about me wandering off now, did I? Besides, I was asked to be here by one of your soldiers, so here I am. For someone who could hear miles away, you sure need to learn to listen.”

“Do not test me, Falls. You may be a monarch, but you need to remember who you are answering to. I will neutralize you myself if required. So fall back in line, that’s an order.”

Smirking, Cinder floated up close, saying:

“I’m not one of your mongrel slaves. I’ll be glad to take you on myself. I’m not afraid. I know deep down you also want to. So why hold back?”

Once again, their intimidating godly Auras clashed, with neither still yet to make a real move against one another. It was certain that Weiss was the most powerful being on the planet without equal, but Cinder’s confidence remained unwavering. Meaning she really was willing to go all out, even if this potential fight were to be the death of her. Something told Weiss that Cinder would have loved to be immortalized in this manner regardless. Collateral damage would be unfathomable.

But then, thoughts were once again distracted the moment Weiss’ ears picked up the noisy commotion back at the heart of the Valley, turning her head away.

Riots in the cities continued to break out as the people protested the conscription laws. Many Valean soldiers had already perished in several of the recent battles against two military superpowers. And here the efforts of the Empire would not stop. So now the people of Vale would decide they too would not stop, not until their loved ones were sent back home.

Occupying vast streets on every corner, the crowds gathered in the thousands, with many ruffians and thugs among the people. They wore with them simple cloth masks as they marched through these towns and the buildings, setting fire to anything they came across. Smashing the windows clean off several buildings, including Dust shops which they were happy to attack and loot the resources inside. Taking with them boxes of ammunition, grenades, and even minor firearms.

They carried these guns with them outside to then shoot at anything that even dared come close, as they roamed the streets waving their Valean flags up high, shouting obscenities and passionate bloody hateful screams.

“Get out of our country!”

“Atlas dogs!”

Their cries echoed in the dark as many pulled Atlesian cops to the concrete beating them to their death. Smashing more windows, destroying more cars and trucks, they pulled out innocent civilians who even slightly resembled Atlesians, and with their cruel mob justice, they also beat these people to death. Men, women, they did not discriminate. Smashing their skulls with metal pipes, wooden boards, spiked bats, and even cups of acid pouring over their eyes. Some of the executions were swift, with one bullet to the back of the heads. But the bodies were still soaked with blood, piling up high.

Thieves took this opportune moment of chaos to blend into the darkness and there they slithered their way into shops, not only big corporate-owned supermarkets, but as well as privately owned businesses that only made enough to feed a small family. These degenerate thieves did not care, however. They stabbed anybody that got in their way, hauling out of the stores those stolen clothes, shoes, and new models of scrolls.

On this day, nobody could tell good Valeans from bad. While the good had reasons to protest, the scumbags quickly turned the tides for their own gain. Not only for their own selfishness, but also for the sake of the ideologues and the politicians who paid off this act of barbaric revolution.

Mayor Robyn Hill was one of these Valean billionaires working behind the scenes to light this violent fire in the cities. She put in a considerable amount of effort to uphold this image of a hero of the people. Someone who was supposedly relatable to the layman.

But this façade was an utter lie, for this was a woman who owned several large mansions coated in marble and gold at the heart of this Kingdom. Homes of riches built off the wealth she gained over the years kissing the boots of the God King. With the invasion of the North, she continued to look out for nobody but herself. Only interested in not just the vast vaults of money in her house, but also political power and influence over ordinary people. She tasted this politics years ago, and now was refusing to let go, doing whatever she must to keep her and her cronies in power.

The rising tension between Atlesians and Valeans created this perfect opportunity. And financially sponsoring that savage mob of teenage revolutionary criminals to have them riot on the streets was the easiest phone call she ever had to make. Sitting in the comfort and luxury of her limo, while Valean thugs go out and execute the people.

If one were smart and perceptive, they would be able to notice a curious lack of law enforcement and Atlesian Knights patrolling the streets, thus allowing this madness. This fact amused Robyn greatly, for she knew the extent of what she could do even on just a local level.

“I’m glad you’re onboard,” she said. “The things people will do for the sake of silver.”

Sitting right across from her in the limo – Mayor Clover Ebi.

“It’s good to have friends on all sides,” said Clover, as they toasted. Drinking expensive wine.

“Though, we will have to be strategic. It’ll get suspicious if we just shut off the Knight patrols just like that. Let’s start with some of the smaller districts in the far outskirts of the Kingdom.”

“You just leave that to me. The main issue isn’t really the Knights. Those are just robots. The ones we have to worry about are the nationalist politicians and the police departments. I’ll have to explain to them why we’re relocating our troops. But those bozos will eat up everything I say, I’ll make sure of it.”

Robyn smiled, Clover smiled.

Innocent blood flooded the burning fire this day.

Chapter Text

Roaming the forests near the heart of the Valley, Blake moved from tree to tree, hiding in the shadows to avoid both civilians and those of the military, carefully slipping behind all Atlesian bases, away from the jeeps and tanks, and over any hint of even a single low-ranking private. She moved fast, faster than the eyes could track. All a child’s play in the end.

Moving nearer to the east of Vale, closing in on some large mountains, she was now far away from more civilized places. No eyes were upon her now that she slid down into hidden stones buried beneath thick bushes and ancient trees. Camouflaged behind some large boulders bordering the edge of some small caves, too narrow to enter, was this large horizontal container the size of an ordinary locker, about as large as half a car.

It was exactly as Watts had instructed.

Dusting off some of the dirt and debris covering the top, Blake came across a keypad. Sliding it open, she input in a secret combination, and within seconds the large container came to life, opening its hinges like a treasure chest. Inside, was that old relic she once held with great familiarity.

Adam’s old original sword. Placed neatly back in its sheath.

Next to the blade was a small black orb that came to life, beeping with a blue light that emerged into a hologram – showing her Watts’ face.

“I believe this belongs to you,” said Watts. “Feel free to suggest any new modifications, I’d be happy to provide.”

Immediately, Blake took the sword and sheath out of the chest and strapped it on her waist faster than Watts could react. Holding tightly onto the handle and feeling the strength of the steel, she finally felt all was right with the world once again, even for just a brief moment.

Looking down at the hologram, she nodded at Watts.

“Excellent,” he said, “now please resume your mission. It is very important, and very dangerous as well. That’s why I thought you should carry something to defend yourself.”

“Professor Gardenia Silva, is it?” Blake asked, maintaining a stoic expression. “What makes her so dangerous?”

“She just is. She isn’t flashy like the soldiers or the Huntsmen, but she can kill. So don’t underestimate her.”

Blake nodded her head. Watts continued:

“I’ve known for a long time that she was the one who developed those GOLD brats. You’ve met their leader, obviously. Ghost Vester. He is a… difficult one, to say the least.”

“Yes, clearly.”

“If she is capable of growing these Atlesian lapdogs from a lab, then that just begs the question of what else they might be brewing in secret.”

Immediately understanding the implication, Blake said:

“You think she’s responsible for the Superman.”

“Well, it’s hard to say. I can’t be sure right now, not until I get more concrete evidence. Only five people on this planet know the truth, and she is not one of them. But maybe she knows something else. Maybe she can be the stepping stone to the truth. The story of the Superman is something that does not want to be found, at least not in our world. It will try everything in its power to stay hidden. But we will find it – we must.”

Interrupting their conversation, Blake’s scroll lit up from her pocket, alerting her of a new development with a loud beeping sound. Taking it out to see, her eyes lit up in pure shock the moment she skimmed the headlines on the news, popping up all over social media nonstop.

“Professor,” she said, “please check your scroll.”

Nodding his head, he complied, taking out his scroll to now see what it was Blake was referring to, joining her in a moment of outrageous confusion. This ludicrous title printed in massive bold fonts read:

BREAKING NEWS: MENAGERIE LIFTED INTO THE SKY.

“We are gathered here today at the Council of New Eden, christened as the new Kingdomic name rising from the old branding of Menagerie, the fifth Kingdom, here to discuss various congressional and theological issues of import now that we are in the presence of the one of prophecy, Adamantine, son of Belladonna. May the Spirit of the LORD be with us this day so that we may find righteousness on our new path laid out before us, amen.”

“First order of business, a short preface on the various issues that need sound theological agreement upon. Going through them one by one, please allow me. Ahem: the unification of all Faunus kind and churches not only those on New Eden itself, but those from the other four Kingdoms. The treatment of foreign humankind of all the four Kingdoms. Reformed doctrines to now surface and be taught against Seasonic idolatry of the four Kingdoms. Righteous resistance against the forces of the Empire of Atlas in addition to old laws from the Kingdom of the Valean Valley. The mobilization of local militias in accordance with our natural LORD-given rights. A review of the prophecy detailed in the Holy Book of Dawn, the Books of Law, and the Oniyurian Scrolls. A revision or a reform or a complete overhaul of the constitution to christen the birth of this new country.”

“Thank you, brother Fennec. There are many other issues to discuss as well, but for now, this should be plenty to spread over a couple of weeks. Speed, of course, is of the essence with the pressure of the war between the Kingdom of Atlas and those of the West who are siding with the God King. Our New Eden is currently not the target for the overwhelming might of the Empire, but we ought to be ready when they come bearing arms to persecute this country, the Auric disciples, for our acts of treason and rebellion.”

“One quick matter that needs clarification. Now that this continent, this country has been named anew, alongside the fact that the land itself is very clearly outside the jurisdiction of the Atlesian Naval influences, is this Council then in agreement that this act of rebellion is indeed a declaration of independence?”

Here, Adamantine said:

“My blood boils the same as the blood of all my brothers and sisters gathered here today. It is very clear that this agreement had already been a prerequisite for all who are a witness here before we even prepared for this Council. All who are opposed to the declaration of independence, please – speak up now, this is your chance.”

Silence.

“Let us move on.”

Hovering out in space, with the godly Aura protecting her, Weiss hovered in the dark cold air far above the stratosphere. And in her hand, she held her scroll, now looking at another one of Ironwood’s recordings.

This one was not really a lesson or a story of any kind. Instead, it was merely a moment in the past. Another training session between the two, one that peculiarly her father Pietro had no memory of recording. He wasn’t even present in the footage. Which could only mean that Ironwood himself went ahead and made some private recordings on his own, without Pietro’s knowledge, which was baffling to both him and Weiss alike.

This video told of a session that was over a decade ago. She recognized this memory, but what was difficult to understand was the purpose of including this among the recordings. Here, Weiss was young, still growing, sitting in front of an exhausted Ironwood in a grey tank top with white military pants and black boots.

She herself wore a similar attire to him, with the General sweating buckets while Weiss’ breathing still remained stable. She couldn’t for the life of her remember the last time she actually felt tired. The healing in her body was always lightning quick, getting her back to full strength in no time, and this was back when she was much younger, back when she was still growing stronger, with seemingly no end in sight.

Now, the growth still remained in her, but it had been quiet in recent years. Creeping in inches, because nothing on this planet was a challenge.

General Ironwood foresaw this, for he was a clever man. The strongest of the military.

“One day,” he said, “your strength will be unstoppable. When that day comes, you will have to be ready.”

“Sir?” Weiss looked up, handing him a bottle of water.

“People will fear you, soldier. And they will try everything they can to take you down. There’s a lot of behind-the-scenes politics going on, it’s all very… difficult to understand. But you will have to learn these lessons.”

“But sir, with the power of the Empire, we can conquer all of them. Their politics will mean nothing.”

“I’m not talking about those foreign nations, Weiss. I’m talking about those from within.”

“I… I don’t understand.”

“There are good people here, people who believe in the same things we do. But not everyone is like that. So you will have to be prepared. Ready for the fact that even with the strength to move mountains, there will be things that cannot be fought with brute force alone.”

Sitting in silence, not knowing what else to say, she simply nodded her head. Ironwood continued:

“Our responsibilities are great. My responsibility as a General, a Council member. Atlas’ responsibility to the world to rule and protect. And soon, your responsibility will be the heaviest burden of them all. I hope you can handle it, Weiss.”

To that, she simply replied:

“Anything – for Atlas.”

And there, a smile slowly crept up on his face, and he too nodded his head.

“Let’s finish up here, soldier. You can take the rest of the day off. I have a Council meeting after this. Say hello to your family for me. And remember to go to church.”

“Sir… I have a question. Permission to speak, General?”

“Yes, go on.”

“Why do you spend so much time… for me?”

Upon hearing this, his expression tried to remain in that stoic position, but in the end, he could not help himself but smile ever so faintly, so subtle that perhaps only Weiss’ superpowered vision could’ve picked it up from where she was sitting.

He said:

“Atlesians must always care for their own. Go on, now. Get some rest.”

It only took a matter of a few seconds for the Atlesian soldiers to set up a long mechanical fence around the Kaisar camp, pushing them further into the center of the Forever Falls. Thick metal walls now surrounded them, with various beeping lights, which many assumed to be some kind of surveillance system. The people were not entirely sure.

What they were sure about, however, was the fact that if they were to attempt to climb over these walls, they would surely be electrocuted by the vicious energy field that coated all over from top to bottom, leaving no space to even grab onto, much less escape to the other side.

The soldiers continued to flood the forest by the thousands, parking numerous airships all over the place in all four directions. With many of the Skyknights still circling the sky for a more thorough inspection.

The turmoil made the very air hard to breathe, on top of the heavy pungent smell of oil and Dust, with the people being crowded in and pushed back by men with rifles and shields. The tribe’s elders and leaders were still allowed a chance at conversation with some of the higher-ranking officers near the entrance of the encampment. And everybody’s focus was anxiously placed on that negotiation, which none of the ordinary tribesmen could really get the full picture of on account of this booming deafening commotion, people pushing one another back and forth, shouting, demanding answers, while still being hemmed in by the brute force of the military.

Standing with the tribe’s elders was Jaune himself, trying to make himself known of his status as part of the Empire.

“I’m telling you, I have orders from the Chancellor herself. These people came here all the way from the western front. They need a place to stay.”

“I can’t just take your word for it, pal,” said one of the officers. “I’ll have to verify this order with my superiors. In the meantime, you and the nomads are to remain here under supervision, and that’s final.”

“Can we at least know why we are being kept here like this?” Jaune asked.

“For security purposes. Riots are breaking out in the inner cities, and there have been numerous reports of foreign Huntsmen and spies attempting to infiltrate Atlesian lands now that we are at war.”

“I assure you,” said one of the elders, “we would never pose a threat to our own country.”

“Step back!” The officer shouted. “I’m warning you!”

“Please sir,” the elder raised his hand, “we’ve been nothing but a great boon to this land. Our families have been harvesting from Mt. Glenn for generations. It’s been a great profit to many peoples far and wide.”

“Listen,” said Jaune, “why don’t you just go ask the Chancellor herself about everything I told you? She will vouch for me. I swear, I am not deserting my rank or hiding from the draft. I was specifically told to be here. And these people need help, they need the Empire’s help, right? You’ve read the news, you know how these people were forced to relocate. So that’s all I’m here for.”

“Very well, if what you said is true then we will assist your tribe to a proper secure refugee facility. But I swear if I find even one spy among you people, just one Vacuan, or one Valean rebel, or worse, a damn pirate, I’m sending you all to reeducation! You got that?”

Jaune and the tribesmen looked at each other, all with a concerned look in their eyes. But here they were, not wanting to escalate the situation, they all nodded their heads and agreed to the terms and watchful eyes of the Empire.

“Good,” said the officer, “go back to your camp now. Get some rest.”

Here is something strange.

In a place far away…

“Well, we did it.”

“If we don’t get extra credits for that, I’m going to be extremely disappointed.”

“Weiss, a two-headed snake literally crushed a bakery. I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Plus… we didn’t solve everything. A lot of people were hurt and there’s still tons of work to be done. We still don’t know why they did this.”

“We might not have all the answers, but we do have a lot of dangerous people behind bars. And I think that’s something we can be proud of.”

“Okay, yeah. And if anyone tries something like this again, we’ll be there to stop them.”

“Yay, teamwork, camaraderie, good job guys… phew, so – what now?”

“I’d suggest training for the tournament, but… I think we have that covered at this point.”

“So then…”

“Time for bed?”

“Yes, please.”

“Absolutely… wait, guys, what is that?”

“What?”

“It… it’s gone! It was there just a second ago.”

“Did that… come from our dorm room?”

Located at the top of the girls’ dorm, next to several other living quarters, that room was on the top floor of this building that seemingly had strange vapors coming out of the top corner, almost looking as if it came from within team RWBY’s bedroom right below that.

Far above this building, the clouds looked almost entirely dissipated, towering straight into the stratosphere far above. Nobody heard a sound, nor did they even panic, which could only mean that everybody else except the four girls here did not even notice this strange phenomenon. And still, Blake, being the first to see this, was terrified of the overwhelming power that could split the clouds so high into the deep depths of space.

Rushing through the hallways, and skipping up the stairs, they arrived at the scene of the incident in what seemed like just a mere few seconds. It was definitely hard to tell with the rushing adrenaline.

But now standing in this room wrecked by an unseen force that crashed the wall and the window on the other side, disassembling their beds, flipping over the tables, the books, and leaving burnt marks on the carpet, the four girls were absolutely baffled by the fact that nobody seemed to have noticed this quiet destruction. A brief glance across the other rooms down the hall also confirmed this, as every single one of them appeared to be untouched. Not even a hint of a scratch.

“Welp,” Yang scratched her head, “so much for nap time.”

“What happened?” Weiss cried. “Did the White Fang attack us again?”

“Can’t be,” Blake commented. “A lot of them didn’t make it out of those tunnels. Many more are arrested.”

Hopping over the destruction and taking a closer look over the window, Ruby glanced into the open space and out into the wide forest bordering this dormitory building. So green and luscious, and thus nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Which was what Ruby also thought at first, until her eyes spotted far in the distance, hiding in the shadows of the bushes, a fluttering red shade that disappeared just as quickly as it appeared.

The pieces of the crimson seemed awfully familiar to her, and she could not really tell why. But now with this curiosity, she simply could not resist.

“Guys, there’s something over there,” Ruby cried. “Come on!”

“Ruby!”

Before any of them could stop her, she had already dashed out of the open hole in the wall, leaving behind long trails of red petals fluttering like butterflies splashing all over the others’ faces.

“Well, I guess we should review our landing strategy,” said Blake, before leaping out of the window after Ruby.

Yang shrugged, gearing up her gauntlets once more and jumped outside, grinning widely even when she was absolutely exhausted.

And Weiss, now left with no choice, shook her head and followed the rest of her team, unsheathing her blade, then proceeded to descend outside while dancing gracefully on her white glyphs.

Out in the forest, the shadows of the trees grew thicker as the sun began to set. And yet the animals seemed to have retreated for reasons that none of the four girls could really understand. There was no sign of any Grimm nearby, the Huntsmen and other students at the school had already cleared this place out long ago.

Some stray monsters would eventually make it back to these grounds, but nothing too big or dangerous. So normal animals had always been able to flourish here in these grassy lands right behind the school. But here, they all leaped off into the distance, deer prancing away instinctively, and raccoons hurrying off into small holes hidden in the bushes. Even the birds were scattering off from the far branches, disturbed by some very peculiar rumbling vibrational energies.

At first, the girls thought that this was a sign of something much more dangerous than a mere low-level Grimm they were encountering, and that both the animals and the ordinary Grimm monsters were somehow smart enough to recognize that and immediately take flight.

But the further in they went into the depths of the forest, the more they saw the decaying flakes of Grimm floating in the distance. Pieces of their flesh disintegrated before their very eyes at a pace that they had never really seen before. Here, they realized the truth – in that the monsters did not flee the forest.

Instead, they were being slaughtered.

Leaping over branches and bushes, they began to notice more and more Grimm bodies popping up. After just a few short seconds, they arrived at the heart of this new commotion where they saw before their very eyes piles upon piles of Beowolves with their limbs and torsos completely hacked off into chunks, sliced in such an effortless manner it almost like they were cut by a precision laser cutter.

The amount of bodies piling up to make a small mountain was bizarre to the girls, but what shocked them to their very core was something they could not have foreseen even in their wildest dreams.

Standing on top of the black corpses was a figure clad in a curious gray, black, crimson suit of some kind. A design that was alien with a color scheme they instantly recognized. And when the young man turned his head to face them, showing off his short black hair and pale skin, the girls began rushing through a million questions in their minds, struggling and failing to find logical conclusions for all of them. Especially now that they realized this man was holding that gigantic red scythe.

There, the sweat crawled down over his shimmering silver eyes. Sparkling like jewels.

With him now puffing and inhaling intensely as if he had been holding his breath.

He said:

“Where… am I? Why am I here?”

He did not know what this place was called. But this was Universe 2.

Chapter Text

Universe 2…

“Ruby! Get away from her! That’s Neo!”

Instantly gearing up her gauntlets, now with both Weiss and Blake following from behind, the three of them opened fire and launched heavy Dust blasts off to where Rubio was standing. Exploding the numerous Grimm corpses scattered around upon contact, bursting into a black geyser of flakey Grimm flesh.

When the dust and black goo cleared, the three girls were left confused by how none of their shots managed to land, as the young man seemingly teleported a few steps back, and was completely unharmed by their power.

Not to be discouraged, Yang powered up her Aura and instantly transformed her eyes into a vicious shade of red, following up with a flurry of punches that launched even more flaming blasts off into the distance. Weiss joined in, loading in several cartridges of ice Dust, pointing her rapier forward and directing that cold energy forth with an efficient practiced motion.

But here, slowly, the horror was now starting to creep on their face the moment they witnessed this man blocking every single one of those shots with his red scythe, spinning around like a defensive vortex, forming a sharp dome around where he stood, even letting the scythe spin furiously around his shoulders and his back without his hands touching it.

“I didn’t think I’d run into you guys, and so soon too,” he smiled, before extending his hand. “Hi, I’m Rubio Rose. Nice to meet you.”

“Back off, you!” Yang raised her fist once more, ready to strike. “Don’t fall for any of her lies. This has got to be Neo. She’s clearly here to rescue Roman.”

“Roman?” Rubio raised an eyebrow. “Yang, what the hell are you talking about? Who the hell is Roman? And who even is this Neo?”

Without answering him, she fired off another blast. To only then see it miss completely and have it travel far off in the opposite direction out of the forest, setting fire to a line of trees and several rocks along the way.

“Ah, I miss you so much, sis,” Rubio appeared behind Yang, poking her left cheek, which only managed to light a stronger fire in her eyes.

“How did you… but you were…”

Instinctively, Blake fired off several shots from Gambol Shroud, but within a blink of an eye, Rubio was gone from her sight, letting all the bullets fly past Yang’s head, barely scratching a single strand of her golden hair.

“Man, I don’t know who you are,” said Rubio, reappearing behind Blake, patting her on her back, “but I sure am glad you’re on the team. Let’s get to know each other some more, yeah? You like coffee?”

Getting annoyed, Blake turned her pistol into a blade and swung behind with everything she had, only to then unexpectedly find her sword unintentionally clashing against Weiss’ rapier flying toward her from the other direction, boosted intensely by powerful white glyphs beneath her steps.

The girls were getting more desperate by the minute, but they were still exhausted by this point, still at low power after the train incident with the White Fang. But what they were still able to notice about this strange person, surprisingly enough, was the fact that although it seemed like he was teleporting at first glance – the way the air all around seemed to also dash around following where the young man was going ultimately implied this man was not really teleporting instantaneously.

Crazy as it seemed, they concluded that this man was in fact physically moving all over the place, from point A to point B. They simply found it hard to believe on account of how ludicrously fast he was. The girls were not yet professional Huntresses, but they still graduated from their high school years, so their speed was trained and impressive.

But this was something else entirely, something they had never seen before in their entire lives.

“Ah, ha-ha, this is fun. Hey, do you guys know where I can get a charger? I wanna take a photo of all this, but my scroll is running low on juice. I really should’ve gotten an upgrade.”

And before he could finish his line of thought, he found himself standing in front of a gigantic scythe blade positioned right over his torso. Holding that Crescent Rose from behind, Ruby Rose stood ready to fire and slice him clean off. Her face now showing a moment of cold killer intent, one she had only ever reserved for the most foul and soulless Grimm monsters.

“I don’t know who you are,” said Ruby, “but this stops now.”

And yet, Rubio proceeded to casually turn around facing Ruby, smiling as wide as he could to show absolutely zero fear shining inside his silver pupils.

“I already told you, my name is Rubio. Some people call me Ruby. I’m… you.”

“Prove it,” said Ruby. “Tell me something only I would know.”

“Why don’t you use your Silver Eyes instead? You’ll know I’m telling the truth.”

“My what?”

“Oh, shit. You really don’t know. The vision said this would happen, I didn’t wanna believe it. Maybe the gravity of this place isn’t that strong…”

“Hey, what are you mumbling about?” Yang shouted.

“Oh, don’t worry about that, sis. You know me.”

Yang paused, before shouting back:

“No, I don’t! WHO ARE YOU?”

“Think about it,” Rubio tapped his head, “if I wanted you dead, I would’ve killed all of you by now. With how fast I am, that should be child’s play. Did you not see all those Grimm I killed?”

Looking at one another in silence, Blake then shrugged and said:

“She kinda has a point. I mean ‘he,’ I mean…”

“This is really confusing,” said Weiss.

“You still haven’t answered our question,” Yang still stood far away on top of a tree, folding her arms. “You said you are Ruby. So tell us something only our family would know.”

“If you insist. Our father is Taiyang Xiao Long, you’re my sister, Yang. My mentor is our uncle, Qrow Branwen. Your mother is the Pirate God Raven Branwen, and my mother is Summer.”

“Pirate… God?” Weiss turned her head, “Did I hear that right?”

“That sounds… strange,” said Blake.

“I still don’t know what’s going on,” Ruby scratched her head, “but I don’t think this person is lying. I think he’s telling the truth. He seems genuine.”

Teleporting behind Ruby, Rubio had now transformed into the form of a young woman, wrapping her arm over Ruby’s shoulders.

“Ya see?” Rubio chuckled, “We’re all family here. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Ah, what the…”

“How did you do that?” Ruby stepped away, now confused once more.

“Do what? This? You can’t do this, huh?”

“So, tell me exactly how you’re not Neo?” Yang folded her arms, still exercising combat caution.

“She can transform,” said Blake, still unsure of what to think. “Is this an illusion?”

“Uh oh,” Rubio stepped back, still grinning, however, “I’m assuming this Neo person has illusion powers then? No wonder you’re all so paranoid, ha-ha.”

“It helps keeps us safe,” said Weiss. “You never know what kind of people we’re going to run into out there.”

“Well, you’ll be happy to know, my dearest friend Weiss, my defense against that is simply the fact that I do not know who this Neo is, as I have already told you all. That person doesn’t exist where I come from.”

“He… she really is implying what I think she’s implying?” Blake asked.

“No, can’t be.”

“It’s the only explanation that makes any sense, my friends,” Rubio smiled. “I’m in an alternate universe.”

Pausing for a brief moment of silence, the four girls continued cycling through all their disordered thoughts, trying to rearrange the discord into something that was more logical.

Breaking the silent air, Ruby said:

“But then… what are you doing here? Where did you come from? How did you even get here?”

“Well, that’s… what I’m trying to figure out myself, unfortunately. I’m looking for my mother, Summer. She’s supposed to be on this mythical mountain called Mt. Nephilim, a place beyond space and time. I sought out the help of Raven, the Pirate God, who opened a portal as far as she could, sending me through. And here I am.”

“You – talked to my mother?”

“That’s right. It’s kinda a long story. Basically, the fabric of space and time was starting to crumble in my universe. Which was the perfect opportunity for Raven to open a portal into places so far away, places we couldn’t access under ordinary circumstances. One thing led to another, bada-bing, here I am.”

“I have… so many questions!” Ruby cried.

“Why is your world crumbling apart?” Weiss asked. “How did that happen?”

To that, Rubio simply smiled, getting to meet the ice princess for the first time once again. He responded:

“Oh, ho-ho, you’re going to love this next part, Weiss.”

Universe 1938…

In the land of Mistral, on different soils, under different skies, two confused young men clashed violently against the royalty of Tyrian Callows, consort of the Queen, alongside Sienna Khan, one of the last remnants of the White Fang rebellion.

Strong metals crashed into each other, sparkling of powerful energies that were only possible with mighty Auras emanating from these fighters.

Unleashing the spearhead from the long chain, Sienna sent it forth flying at speeds that not even rifles could compare, aiming it straight at the brothers. With it now loaded with burning fire Dust, the impact would be empowered. And there, landing on the tip of Krim’s own spear, the attack had been gracefully nullified, so quickly, so skillfully, so precise.

Spinning the burning spear around, Krim powered himself up and charged forth, leaving behind a crater of crushed rocks. He, too, was contending with the speed which Sienna was launching her dart at. Perhaps moving even faster, and more importantly – dashing forward with the strength of a raging bull, a bull the size of a locomotive with its engine spewing out uncontrollable steam no metal could hold.

The steam then formed into strong gusts of wind, pouring from every inch of his bloodied and bruised body. Tattered pieces of his long coat now flowing – on the activation of his Semblance, summoning from his body raging cyclones circling his body as he approached. These gusts blew back trees, lifted boulders, splitting the very ground itself.

Standing behind him, powerful electrical currents began coursing through Azur’s veins, lighting his tanned dark complexion into almost like that of diamonds, luminous and brighter than any light bulb. With his own Semblance, now powered by Aura, he slammed down the hammer of his revolver to instantly deliver several rapid-fire shots following behind his brother’s furious circular cyclones. Combining the wind with lightning, along with the fire of Krim’s spear, the force of this attack pushed on like a cosmic heavenly meteor from the far black skies.

Before Krim could make contact, however, Tyrian came out of the shadow, dashing in front of Sienna – there, he raised his foot high over his head and slammed down the ground, an axe kick smashing the rock in such a violent but precise way that it formed a rectangular block the size of a large car out of the very soil. Lifting this heavy slab in front of the two of them to act as a shield against the two brothers’ devastating combination offense.

Krim was, of course, strong enough to crush through this wall of stone like it were made out of cheap plastic. But it bought Tyrian and Sienna just enough time to take several steps back and out of the danger zone, quickly dashing away into the bushes.

“Weird to see you here,” Sienna cried, “but I won’t complain.”

“It’s my homeland,” Tyrian smirked. “Less talky, more fighty!”

Now deciding to go on offense, Tyrian leaped out of the dark lines of trees and headed straight for the brothers. Seeing this, Azur immediately held his revolver to the side of his hip, now letting the gun morph into a long blade, filling it up with potent electrical power, before unleashing a slash faster than the eye could track. Slicing off several trees in the distance behind where Tyrian came from, while simultaneously setting fire to the grass, now lighting up the darkness of night.

The slash of the sword was quick, but Tyrian managed to be faster, leaping high above, now coming straight down driving a vicious kick aimed at Azur’s head. Tyrian would quickly be countered however by Azur’s own lightning kick, reaching up high with his lean long leg, roundhouses clashing to shake the very air around them, almost rupturing into an explosion.

Without any hesitation, Krim turned around spinning his spear for a fierce stab toward Tyrian, which was instantly and gracefully avoided as Tyrian flipped himself over the deadly cyclones, landing on the tip of the spear itself before launching himself off into the distance, regaining his balance on the ground.

Approaching behind Tyrian, Sienna reappeared, now with a stronger determined look in her eyes. Holding strong on the chain wrapping around her forearm, she powered up her Aura, and here – activated her Semblance.

With a strong rumbling at the back of her throat, the ground now began to shake. Confused, Azur and Krim were not sure of what to do, a part of them was even curious of what Sienna was truly capable of. Only to then curb those thoughts the moment Sienna unleashed a mighty animalistic roar that echoed through the night.

The roar that sounded like that of a king – a tiger lord.

The moment the two brothers heard this sound, they fell onto their knees, feeling weak in their joints, almost as if the energy was leaking out of their bodies in an uncontrollable manner. They could hardly move a single finger on their hand, let alone a muscle. And to add this to the bruises and other injuries on their bodies made the pain so severe they almost wanted to lay down and outright surrender.

“Nice trick,” Tyrian smiled, stroking his chin, “glad I didn’t get hit with it.”

“I can choose my target,” Sienna winked. Before charging up her Aura, and leaping off the ground toward the brothers to deliver several devasting combination kicks to the brothers’ faces, launching Azur into the air, while smashing Krim to the dirt.

Curious, Tyrian took out his scroll, and the moment he did so he noticed that peculiarity when he glanced at Sienna’s Aura level. He then told her:

“That Semblance of yours ate a big chunk out of your reserves. Let’s finish this quick.”

“I know, I know!”

Hitting Azur with a knee strike, she held tight onto the spearhead on her metal chain, charging it with thick Aura before driving it straight down where Azur was kneeling.

But his efforts surprised her as he now somehow managed to muster enough strength to raise his sword, blocking the attack with immaculate skill and precise timing. Sienna never expected him to recover from the roar so quickly. She knew the effect of her Semblance was not permanent, but she had never met anyone with the strength and will to fight back so thoroughly.

Krim too had now gotten back on his feet, holding strong onto his spear once again to now power up his windy Semblance, conjuring a massive hurricane this time and launching it forth in the form of a ball, flying toward Sienna almost like that of a projectile. She barely mustered up enough speed to get out of the way of the destruction.

“You got us good,” Azur spat out a mouthful of blood, “but you’re not going to do that again.”

Powering up her Semblance, she delivered another devastating roar. But this time – the brothers were no longer distracted as they immediately dashed out of the way. This was demonstrative of their extensive battle experience and swift reaction to decode and counter so quickly.

“That’s a strong ability,” said Azur, “but all we have to do is move faster than the speed of sound, and you won’t be able to catch us.”

“Then I’ll just have to get you distracted!” Sienna fired off her spearhead once more.

Wrapping the chain around her leg as the dart flew through the air. Being prepared this time, Azur now parried the attack, only to then realize Sienna was actually attacking the both of them at the same time, bringing the dart back by pulling the chain wrapped around her leg, so she could kick it and send it forth flying toward Krim, who narrowly managed to catch the spearhead with his bare hand.

The sharp edges cut deep into the palm of his hand. But what was much more damaging was the ice Dust from within the spearhead exploding to trap Krim’s left forearm in a thick block of ice. Now in control of his arm, Sienna pulled hard on the chain to yank him over to her, with the intent of kicking him in the face.

Only to instantly see Krim dashing in, still holding strong onto the fiery burning spear he held. As such, the logical defense was to carefully kick on his weapon instead, which managed to reset the both of them at a far neutral distance once the ice on Krim’s arm shattered into a thousand pieces, letting Sienna retrieve her chain.

Walking up from behind, Tyrian cackled with a certain darkness in his voice, while sarcastically clapping. He said:

“Your reputation precedes you two, sons of the Fleet Admiral. But you’re on my homeland now, and you are trespassing on MY property!”

“The Empire will find out about this,” said Azur, “a Mistralian official – working with that Faunus rebel.”

“They’ll find out sooner or later,” Tyrian smiled. “What matters is staying ahead of the curve.”

But before they could resume their fight, a sudden crack in the air had come upon them rupturing the very fabric of the atmosphere before their very eyes. For a brief moment, their eyes came upon the sight of what seemed like an opening to an endless black void, which immediately closed just as fast as it opened. It disappeared, but not before striking the very ground they stood on with what seemed almost like divine lightning, splitting the cliffside in two.

The shockwave of the blast shook Sienna and Tyrian off balance, forcing them to leap off the rocks and into the far night sky, escaping the two brothers, who were also retreating into the back of the dark black woods.

A mere coincidental series of events? Or an opportune moment?

During the escape out into the open sky, Tyrian asked:

“You found something good here, yes?”

“Were you following me?” Sienna turned her head.

“Staying ahead of the curve, dear, like I said. I go where I please. My homeland, my property. The Gladiators were a good place to start anyway. They are powerful, they may give us some clues if she was ever here.”

“I found out something about a warrior who was here six years ago. Her name was Penny Polendina.”

“Polendina? Like Pietro Polendina?”

“That’s right. You think she could be a sister to the Superman?”

“I’ve never heard the name Penny. What else did you find?”

“Not much, those two guys killed the Gladiators I met. I didn’t get a chance to ask more questions. I don’t even know where those two came from.”

“No matter, they won’t do much now. Not in their… condition.”

“The Gladiators did show me a little bit about this Penny’s fighting style. She apparently fought with a bunch of swords. How she did that, I have no clue.”

“That’s our lead then. We might be on to something. Let’s keep digging. I can almost taste it!”

The cracks in the air continued to rupture.

Back at the camp in the middle of the Forever Falls, Jaune sat alone in his tent talking to his sister through their scrolls.

“It’s been a crazy week, lil’ bro. They’ve started rioting outside our apartment building. Just two blocks from here, the grocery store even caught fire. Burned to the ground.”

“Gosh, that’s crazy.”

“I know, right?”

“You’re not going outside, are you?”

“I went out to restock the other day, but I made sure to get food for the whole month. It’s definitely not safe to go out now. But don’t worry, I’m keeping the door locked all day. Nothing goes in, nothing goes out.”

“I say get a second door, ya know. Better safe than sorry.”

“I got a gun with me, Jaune. I’ll be fine. I promise. They still haven’t really targeted the electrical buildings yet, so we still have power. But if the light goes out, I’ll have to start burning through the backup Dust reserves. I have enough to last a couple of weeks, though. So don’t worry, I’ve got it all figured out.”

“Well, I’m still worried, but if you insist. Be sure to call me every two days or so, just to let me know you’re okay.”

“Okay, I promise I’ll call.”

“Okay.”

“What about you? How are you holding up at that camp?”

“It’s getting real heated. The nomads are super tense. And the soldiers aren’t letting up either. It’s really hard to tell what they’re thinking. But I think if we just buckle down and do what they tell us, we’ll be fine. We’re still getting some rations here and there. So there’s that at least.”

“Well, be sure to keep your head down then. We don’t want to cause too much trouble. The soldiers may be rough, but I’m sure it’s because of this war and the stress that comes with it.”

“They’re beating up people, sis. Some of them anyway.”

“Pray for them, then. For both the nomads and the soldiers. I’m not saying there aren’t bad people there. But let’s pray for them. And for this country.”

“Yeah… yeah.”

Universe 2…

Sitting in the cafeteria, the four girls talked with Rubio.

“What you just told us… is INSANE!” Yang cried, widening her eyes.

Weiss in particular, seemed disturbed and fascinated all at the same time. Leaning forward, she tried to hide her excitement, but it was clear to all.

“It’s definitely… a lot to take in,” she said. “I find it hard to believe I’m so different in this alternate reality. And you said you’re my… best friend?”

“See Weiss?” Ruby nudged her, “We’re the bestest bestie better than the resty in every reality.”

“Never happened, now,” Weiss pushed her aside, “I want to know more about this version of myself in your world.”

Rubio smiled, reminiscing:

“On my world, you are the most powerful of us all. There is no equal.”

“Whoa, look at you Ice Queen,” Yang teased.

“I’m still having a hard time picturing this,” Weiss shook her head. “I know I’m good, but I’m not that good. I mean, what about my sister, Winter?”

“You have a sister in this world?” Rubio’s eyes widened, “Now that is wild.”

“Wait, what? Winter… doesn’t exist?”

“I’ve never heard that name before,” said Rubio.

“Huh… wow…”

“Matter of fact,” Rubio continued, “I think you are so strong, you might be an anomaly. I don’t really know where you came from, where the source of your strength is. But there doesn’t seem to be a limit in sight. You have never been hurt, you have never bled, you have never even sweat.”

“Wow, you sound so cool, Weiss,” Ruby almost squealed.

“I know right?” Rubio smiled. “She’s amazing. You know I raced her once, before I came over to this world. It was the fastest I’ve ever gone. I really pushed myself.”

“Really? Who won?”

Smiling, Rubio shook his head, reminiscing humbly. He replied:

“The race was sort of a bet. I wanted to leave to find that Mountain. I told her to let me go if I win. I think… I think she respected me enough to honor my wish. The race was really just a formality.”

Approaching their table was none other than Team JNPR, good friends to RWBY. Jaune Arc, the unexpected leader, leading his teammates Pyrrha Nikos, Nora Valkyrie, and Lie Ren.

“Hey guys,” Jaune waved his hand.

“Hello again,” Pyrrha smiled.

“What are you beautiful people up to now?” Nora chimed in, as cheerful as ever.

Only for them to then notice this new stranger’s face, one that was instantly familiar to them. Yet, they dared not make a conclusion just quite yet.

“Who… is this?”

Turning her head, Ruby stuttered for an answer:

“Well, you see. This is…”

“I’m Ruby’s cousin!” Rubio blurted out, interrupting Ruby, smiling as wide as he could.

“Psst,” Weiss nudged him, “do you actually have the enrollment papers?”

“No, I don’t. Please help me,” he whispered back, grinning still.

“I’m not going to help you forge documents,” Weiss cried out under her breath.

“I will,” Blake chimed in.

“It’s settled then, ha-ha!”

Weirded out by them whispering to each other, Jaune wasn’t entirely sure what to make of this. He scratched his head, then asked:

“I didn’t know you had a cousin. Hello there, are you from Patch, too?”

“Well, you see…”

“She’s from Mistral!” Ruby jumped in. “I mean, he’s from Mistral. He lives in Mistral. He just moved here. On a boat! That’s right. The boat traveled like really far, and got here. When she arrived, he ran out of money?”

Shaking her head, Blake explained:

“It’s a really long story. We’ll tell you about it later.”

“Okay? I guess we should introduce ourselves. I’m Jaune Arc. These are my teammates – Nora, Ren, and Pyrrha.”

“You guys seem familiar to me,” Rubio said out of the blue.

“We do?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen you before, Mister Arc. You’re really something else. Keep being you, my friend.

“Huh?”

“And I’ve seen the both of you as well,” Rubio continued, “Nora Valkyrie and Lie Ren. You guys look cute together, not gonna lie.”

“What?”

“Aw, shucks.”

“Wait… you know our last names?”

“Does this mean you know me, too?” Pyrrha asked.

To which, Rubio surprisingly responded:

“Actually, no, but still yes? You seem more familiar than everybody else here. But I can’t quite place my finger on it. I don’t think I’ve actually met you.”

Massively confused, Jaune and his team stared over to RWBY for answers, only to get a simple shrug from Yang as she then said:

“Like we told you, it’s a really, REALLY long story.”

Chapter Text

Universe 1938…

Following deeper into forests and far lands populated with old sand and ancient stones, Blake had finally found her tracks. Footprints and other trails left behind by Professor Gardenia Silva.

Peculiarly without a single Atlesian soldier in sight, one would think that someone of Gardenia’s status would be followed by a whole army for escort. Or perhaps at the very least a whole proper excavation team for whatever it was she was doing.

But no, she was all alone. In the middle of this field populated by rocks and dirt. Which in itself was strange to Blake. If what Gardenia was looking for was of any value then it would make sense for the forces of the other Kingdoms, especially those of Ozymandias’ court, to also be present in order to make claim of the land.

And yet, it was as if Gardenia was the very first one to set foot on this place to make the discovery. If it weren’t for Watts providing Blake with information, it was likely nobody would’ve any idea the whereabouts of this woman.

With nothing but a shovel and a pickaxe by her side, Gardenia dug deeper into these unremarkable rocks that seemed like they never felt the touch of a human for the entire age of Remnant. Stone after stone with unmarked rough edges and natural signs of erosion. And yet, Gardenia still piled them higher and higher with each passing minute, hoarding them with a careful caressing touch.

Still confused, but determined, Blake walked toward Gardenia. Approaching her with footsteps that made no sound. Skillful not just with the precision and movement of her muscles, but alongside the steady rate of her lungs, which to the layman would look as if she was not breathing at all.

Immediately drawing out her sword, Blake placed the blade right over the woman’s left shoulder. Prompting Gardenia to finally notice the quiet raging bloodlust.

“Holy hell,” Gardenia cried, “you’re that Adam kid, aren’t you?”

“It is Blake. Blake Belladonna.”

“Huh, that’s weird.”

“So what is all this?” Blake gestured towards the stones.

“Oh, these. Would you believe me if I told you these are alien rocks from another dimension that landed on our world thousands of years ago?”

“No. I would not.”

“It’s a working theory. But whatever this is, it’s not from this world. Or at the very least not formed by our natural laws. But why am I telling you any of this?”

Emerging from a nearby bush was a young man with dark black hair wearing an Atlesian uniform. He had his sleeves rolled up in an otherwise clean and proper outfit. Most likely someone who would always keep his red tie secured and symmetrical, along with never taking his service cap off his head. His forearms were completely soaked in liquid, either from sweat or water, it wasn’t entirely clear. In the end, Blake deduced he was simply off washing his hands.

“Professor,” said the young man, “I found us a clearing not far from here. I think we can set up camp there for the night and…”

Before he could finish his sentence, the life from his eyes had already begun to leave the moment he realized his torso and lower body were no longer connected. Seeing the blood squirting out of his body was the last thing he saw before the pieces of the corpses crumbled into a messy pile like one would find in a slaughterhouse.

“You killed Ray,” Gardenia commented with absolutely no emotion behind her voice. “He was my assistant you know. He was gonna get extra credits and everything. Poor kid.”

“You’re going to write in your report that this man died in action in a Grimm attack.”

“Oh, gladly,” Gardenia said, to Blake’s surprise, “this isn’t the first time this happened. But I am running out of assistants. Always gotta go get new ones.”

Shaking her head, Blake refocused her attention then said:

“I’ll cut to the chase. I know you’re behind Team GOLD. You’re going to tell me everything you’ve worked on regarding those superpowered artificial humans, as well as any other side projects you may have been working on.”

“And I take it that you’re going to kill me if I don’t do what you ask, yes?”

“Yes.”

“I guess that’s obvious with you pointing your sword at my face. But do you wanna know about the rocks as well? They’re pretty interesting, I tell you what.”

“Spare no details.”

“You know, if Watts wanted to know all the juicy details, he should’ve come himself in person instead of sending his lackey to do the dirty work.”

A bolt of electrical thought shot through Blake’s mind as her eyes widened into shock and a defensive cautious look. Gardenia continued:

“I would’ve told him myself. I don’t really care. I just want him to explain why. I want to be in the loop. I hate being out of the loop. Every moment of it is agony.”

“And… you are in pain this very moment?”

Smiling, Gardenia replied:

“Yes.”

“Hmm…”

“My Semblance is Read. When I touch anything, I can read many things about the composition, the molecular structure, and even the history. These stones for example, they don’t look like it, but there used to be carvings on them. Eroded away with the passage of time. But I can see the chisels hammering away on the surface of these tablets.”

“What… do the carvings say? What are they?”

Turning to face Blake, Gardenia’s crazed expression was then inexplicably combined with a serious somber look that was difficult to discern. She answered the question with a single word:

“Prophecy.”

“Time to move further into the West,” Weiss declared in front of General Vulf and Fleet Admiral Maru. “We have the advantage, it’s time to push forward.”

“Agreed,” said Sam.

“They have a god on their side,” Maru commented. “We have you, as well as the Queen. But Oz is still hiding out there somewhere, planning his next move. He should not be underestimated.”

“Are you saying Oz is comparable to a Maiden?” Sam asked.

“There are things we do not understand about his power. I’ve never seen anything like it through my years fighting against him. His magick was more straightforward back then. But it’s gotten strange lately. His forces are growing stronger by the minute. Just look at what that Oobleck person was able to do, and he was only a second-in-command.”

“Maru is right,” said Weiss. “I am confident that I can still best them all in combat if we were to confront head-on. But Oz is clearly strategizing around his strengths, keeping his distance.”

“Oobleck isn’t the only one we need to concern ourselves with,” said Maru, handing Weiss and Sam a folder each. Inside containing the profile of none other than Peter Port himself, Royal Alchemist of Oz’s court.

“We know a lot more about Port than we do Oobleck,” Maru continued. “But he too has gotten a lot stronger. Take a look at these reports over in Mantle. We’ve already started mobilizing the few military bases we have there to move south into Feldspar. But recently the locals and the soldiers have been experiencing an unexplainable disease.”

“What is it?”

“Frankly, we have no idea,” Maru admitted. “All the symptoms are different. Thousands of reports of people’s limbs being turned elastic and soft like rubber, capable of stretching for a mile in one of the cases. They’re completely incapacitated in this condition. Hundreds of other reports are severe fever cases. Some people are feeling cold, others are feeling hot. One case had a victim experience such a rise in body temperature that he exploded.”

“What?”

“That’s insane.”

“People are barfing all over the place,” Maru continued. “Some found their bones to be completely hollow, others are missing vital internal organs. It goes on and on. There’s no end in sight to the number of odd cases we’ve been receiving.”

“Have you quarantined those areas affected by this disease?” Weiss asked.

“Yes, of course. I’ve also had my marines investigate the cause. Nothing is decisive yet, but we’ve found out our water supplies had been contaminated. Some of the local springs and rivers that Mantle had been using for centuries are infected with a strange colorless, odorless substance. We’ve already sent samples to the lab, but the only thing we’ve determined so far is that this is no doubt a result of their alchemy.”

“You’re absolutely certain?” Sam asked.

“It’s what the scientists said. I’ll send some more samples back home to Atlas as well to get a second opinion, so we can get a more concrete result.”

“Let us work fast,” said Sam. “These new dimensional cracks in the atmosphere may yield unexpected results. Do we have a way to combat the destruction it’ll bring, Chancellor?”

Pausing for a brief moment, Weiss tapped her chin, before saying with cold determination:

“I will stabilize it with my Aura when it gets out of control. But if it turns out that this Oobleck possesses universal power strong enough to rival my strength, the stability will likely be threatened again. Not to mention the hidden danger of Oz’s own power, if he is indeed stronger than Oobleck.”

“Does Ironwood have a contingency plan for these kinds of events?” Maru asked, folding his arms.

To which, Weiss responded, also folding her arms:

“Not that I am aware of, no.”

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Sam commented. “How Ironwood is still in a coma? That shouldn’t even be possible. He’s the strongest one among the three of us Giants.”

Glancing over to Sam with a stoic face, Maru remained silent and deep in thought for a brief minute, before turning back to Weiss. He said:

“Chancellor, permission to go on a special mission back to Atlas’ eastern waters?”

Unsure of what Maru was up to, Weiss nodded her head regardless, as she knew the power and experience of the Fleet Admiral. He knew things that ordinary marines would not dare learn. He was a man of the Empire, of science. His power came from training, not from magical blood. But he knew many things of Oz’s mysticism.

There may be things one could learn from that mysterious world.

Far on the other side of Remnant, in the middle of the desert continent, was a tent housing two injured friends healing from the recent battle. With Neptune tying the last layer of bandages over Sun’s torso. The weak shimmers of his Aura were barely visible, barely healing the cuts and blood and char of the Dust powder, flaming from war machines.

“That was a close one,” Neptune muttered, trying to hide a gloomy expression.

“No kidding. I think the pills messed up my gut real bad. I haven’t been able to take a proper dump for days now.”

“Yeah, I guess that means I won’t be taking any of those. No thank you.”

“I’m still bothered by that electric guy we fought. He’s so much stronger than anything I’ve ever seen.”

“That wind guy was something else, too,” said Neptune.

“Yeah. I think even Adam might have trouble against them. I mean, they went up against a Maiden.”

The moment Sun brought up the topic, a sudden sound spiraling out of the ground came bursting behind them, prompting the two of them to turn their heads to witness a peculiar clay pot rising out of the very soil at the corner of their tent. From the empty pot, dirt slowly poured from beneath the bottom, filling up the pot to the brim until moments later when the moisture started piling up, watering the soil. Within seconds a plant then sprouted from underneath. Growing at a pace no ordinary plant should be capable of, with the small stem immediately morphing into a radiant pink sunflower.

This flower emitted a strange Aura from within, one that rumbled the very air, making it almost a little too stuffy to even breathe. Which ultimately became heavier the moment an arm emerged out of the flower, growing in size at an exponential rate.

First came an arm, then slowly a torso followed, alongside a head – and that familiar face the two of them had seen on the battlefield not too long ago.

Nora Valkyrie – the Spring Maiden.

Rising out of the ground, she dusted herself off as the pot of plant disappeared back into the earth.

“Oh, my Lady,” Sun instantly got on one knee, grunting through his pain in reverence.

“Please,” Nora said. “Stand.”

Complying, Neptune helped Sun up on his feet. They marveled at this magnificent woman, who currently seemed much more ordinary than when she was back on the field. A woman of average height, a bright complexion, and even brighter, orange-colored hair, but wearing a stoic serious look.

An expression that then slowly morphed into a faint smile, bright as the sun as her Aura began to shine. She then said:

“Walk with me.”

Now out into the open, witnessing the high noon sun scorching the glorious Western city of Feldspar, one of the strongholds of Vacuo, a place of massive farmlands miraculously springing out of the cruel heat of the desert to bring the people here great exotic spices and year-round crops. Even before the coronation of Nora as the new Maiden, this place had been touched by Dreams of Spring for centuries.

The locals could not truly explain why. But Western priests put their faith in the hands of the Seasons, burning sheep offerings on numerous stone alters all over as a way to honor the power of Spring herself.

Bustling left and right in this scene of a massive market populating the streets, the people walked up and down in a flood, clearing ways for massive military jeeps to go through, carrying massive barrels and supply crates to numerous nearby camps. The soldiers blended in well with the civilians, many donning bright red, yellow, purple garments in combat against the heat striking from above.

Many bearded merchants with intricate turbans sitting in their fruit stands, their grain stands. On one hand, busy collecting funds traded as the crops left onto numerous wagons, on the other hand, bringing in even more fruits, spices, Dust, meat, metal, restocking to the brim as the day moved on without stop.

Here under the warm daylight, the people basked in the glory of a newly crowned sun, growing from crops blessed by a holy touch.

Noticing their divine lady the moment the three left the tent, the people immediately gathered around near and far. Many getting out of their cars, others hopping off their camels and wagons, all for the sake of a moment to meet the one they worshipped on these far West soils.

“It’s the Maiden!” Shouted many men.

Thus, immediately alerting nearby priests who quickly came to order the crowd, lining them up in a fashion to make adequate space for Nora to pass through. Walking by the people, she waved to them, nodding in acknowledgement, to then have her bright Aura illuminate everywhere her feet touched. The people marveled, even pointing in shock at Sun and Neptune who followed so closely behind their Maiden.

“I am a devout believer,” Nora declared to the two. “That’s part of why the holy corpse chose me as the next vessel. I’ve always been ready to worship. I just… never thought I’d see the day when I am the one worshipped.”

“Does the corpse… talk to you?” Sun asked.

Nora answered:

“Not with a mouth like a person, no. I am… still Nora Valkyrie. But I’m different, somehow. Enhanced, combined with the essence and spirit of the corpse. The divine power of Spring merged with me. Making me anew.”

“And this is what you want?” Sun asked.

Nora turned her head, while they kept walking, she said:

“The grace of the Seasons is irresistible. I want this, it is part of the faith. You are a worshipper are you not? You should know this.”

Scratching his head, Sun chuckled:

“I guess my denomination doesn’t quite agree with that doctrine of predestination, and election, and the whole shebang.”

“Hmm…”

“Ask her about the time travel,” Nepture whispered, nudging Sun.

“Oh, right,” Sun cleared his throat, “where did you go after the ritual? You kind of just… disappeared.”

“You called me out on the battlefield, did you not?”

“Well… yeah, I guess. But how did my prayer travel back into the past? How does that work? Can you hear things across time?”

“The power of the divine is difficult to explain,” she told him. “Even I don’t know what truly goes on behind it all. They all just… happen. By the will of Spring, not my will.”

“I suppose.”

Suddenly stopping short in the middle of the street, the people glanced up in horror now. Turmoil broke out into the streets as all those who came started scrambling back into their homes, pushing off the priests’ desperate attempt to limit the sudden madness.

Sun himself wasn’t quite sure what was going on until he glanced up the figure floating far in the air above the buildings, one that brought along layers of furious hurricane conjured up by the maddening speed of a god. Powered by thick Aura that sent forth vibrations through into the stones, the windows, and even the massive war vehicles.

The Vacuans scattered like ants, they never even noticed her approaching. One that appeared like a ghost, too fast for them to see coming. Or rather, it should be more accurate to describe the encounter as that of a holy spirit. One to rival the spirit of Spring, that emanated avatar. As she was the only one powerful enough and fast enough to see what all the other mortals could not see.

The Superman – folding her arms as she floated above Feldspar. Barely above a two-story building.

The very moment their eyes locked on one another, the sound of thunder far above in the stratosphere began to roar, ready to strike at Nora’s command. With both of their Aura now powering up, knocking over a few fruit stands, even going so far as to trip many people running in the opposite direction.

“It’s her!” Sun cried. “Why is she here?”

“Shit!” Neptune readied a stance. “Run! You’re in no condition to fight.”

“Neither are you,” Sun fired back.

“Everybody go back to your homes, now!” One man in the crowd shouted.

Which the priests declared back:

“Do not flee! Hide behind our Maiden. We will be safe in her care.”

“Against the Superman?” Sun’s eyes widened.

The crowd fell silent, waiting for the moment to unfold for them to know what to do. Nora herself never commanded the Vacuans to do anything. For she knew despite Weiss’ intimidating Aura, it was very unlikely that she was here for a fight. Especially not here where innocent civilians might get hurt.

Nora knew of Weiss’ reputation, it wasn’t in her nature to be excessively cruel to those without power. It was difficult to truly tell, however. Weiss had shown signs of change with recent developments. Her power continued to grow, as did her ruthlessness. The mark of a conqueror.

Nora floated up off the ground, now face to face with Weiss.

“Why are you here, fellow Maiden?” Nora asked.

To which Weiss instantly responded:

“I’m not a Maiden. I am merely here to reiterate the statement I made when we declared war on King Ozymandias. He is the target of Atlas’ wrath. Vacuo will not be harmed if they stay out of this war.”

“Why don’t you take this up with King Theodore?”

“We both know Theodore is not a reasonable man. He is absolutely mad. You on the other hand, you have the will of the people in the palm of your hand. The people see you as holy. They worship you.”

“The King is still the King. He was the one who performed the ritual to coronate me as Maiden.”

“You don’t believe that. As it is written in scripture, divine right is granted by those above in the cosmic sky. Theodore is mortal. You know this. You are a woman of faith are you not? You are chosen after all. Even if I don’t appeal to faith, you should think about this rationally. Mistral’s Queen is on our side as well. You cannot best two gods at once.”

“The only thing you’ve shown me is how much of a hypocrite you are. You recite scripture, yet you exalt yourself arrogantly. You may have conquered Atlas and Vale, but Vacuo will not be yours. That is final.”

Shaking her head, Weiss floated away gradually, intending to leave. But not before leaving one final message:

“I’ll give you one more chance to reconsider. We will advance, we will not attack. But if I see your troops out there on the battlefield against ours, I will retaliate. Be sure of that.”

“I can read the stones, they tell me stories,” Gardenia told Blake. “But my Semblance is not a translator. It merely reads. It retells what happened in its rawest form. But I still have to put them all in context.”

“What does this one say?” Blake pointed her sword at the one Gardenia was holding on.

“It doesn’t look like it. But this one is actually the work of an ancient Valean priest. He was a craftsman. It’s bizarre. He wasn’t just a ceremonial guide or a spiritual leader, or even a political one. He sculpted writings on these slabs. A lot of these are genealogies of several different people.”

“You said the stones were alien, did you not?”

“Yes, well, maybe, regardless this priest still worked on them. Whether he found them, or created them, it’s not entirely clear. Hard to tell. Or maybe… he’s drawn to the stone, like fated gravity.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me,” Gardenia smirked. “I won’t repeat myself. You better write this shit down.”

Shaking her head, Blake ignored and continued:

“What about this prophecy you talked about?”

“Oh, yes… that. Well, I could tell you all about that. But a favor for a favor.”

Catching Blake off guard, Gardenia slipped out of the range of Blake’s sword, rolling to a safe distance away while still holding onto the large rock as she pulled forth her Dust revolver. Pointing straight at Blake with a robotic murderous gaze, one that looked as if she had done this a thousand times.

Gardenia smirked:

“The Fleet Admiral will want to know about this. So why don’t you tell me what Watts is up to? Then maybe I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

Professor Watts did warn Blake of Gardenia’s capabilities, but Blake still found things hard to predict. She never truly knew what this woman was really thinking, what she will do. It was obvious now that she was not going to come quietly, despite seemingly cooperative just mere moments ago.

Blake decided right then and there, she was going to have to take her in by force.

Powering up her Aura to coat her blade, she was ready to strike. Not before finding six bullets placed right in front of her face in a precise vertical line from her head down to her abdomen. Reacting just in time, Blake sliced the bullets in half, letting the Dust and Aura stored in those bullets burst forth in a miniature blast that knocked her off balance, launching her far in the distance.

“Things are moving to an end point,” Gardenia said, “and I really don’t like being kept in the dark like this. You understand, don’t you? Being placed inside a cell for Seasons know how long. But what I’m really trying to say is – get out of my way.”

Pointing the revolver at Blake lying on the ground, Gardenia suddenly found herself holding onto nothing but a gun handle. Only now realizing that Blake had been fast enough to slice the revolver in half, faster than she even realized. She never even saw Blake’s sword move toward her, and yet the speed and skill demonstrated was beyond impressive.

Staring at Blake who was slowly getting back on her feet, a little unsure of what to do, Gardenia scratched her head. Until she suddenly realized an important fact. In a chipper voice, she laughed:

“It’s a good thing I always carry two guns.”

Within the next second, Blake unsheathed her blade at blinding speed once more, and again – sliced the second gun Gardenia was holding in half, like it was made out of butter.

“Well… shit.”

They stood there in silence, with neither being sure of what they should be doing. As Blake knew that killing Gardenia was completely off the table. But not knowing if this woman was carrying extra guns, she still held tight on the handle of her sword, prepared to strike at any moment.

And in the end, was only met with Gardenia simply blurting out:

“Well… bye.”

Instantly, hopping off into the distance, disappearing from sight. Leaving Blake completely speechless.

Chapter Text

Mantle was a large collection of islands that, for the most part, were largely underdeveloped. Not necessarily unexplored, at least not for Weiss who had already scanned this planet many times over. While the Skyknights of Mantle were stationed far in the northern regions, the civilians lived elsewhere. It was said that Vacuan nomads landed here thousands of years ago, at around the same time Northern settlers also came down from that frozen hell they had to endure.

The peoples here had already assimilated long ago, now one people under the influence of the Empire. But nobody was really sure when the assimilation occurred. So for the longest time, nobody knew who really owned these islands.

All of that was no longer relevant, of course, now that Atlas had grown so powerful. But even with that power, there were times when Mantle went on unsupported. As such the Empire’s power here had now been penetrated ever so slightly, but significantly with this new disease that plagued the land.

Arriving at a settlement near the shore, Weiss immediately witnessed the numerous bodies scattered all over the island. Some of them were long gone, others were on death’s door. Struggling to even speak to the numerous doctors and nurses running all over the place to tend to those in need.

There were bodies stretching as long as a train, and other bodies being split in two, that were peculiarly still alive with no blood splatter anywhere. The sections being cut off did not show any of the internal organs as well.

A woman came up to Weiss to immediately barfed out in her general direction, which Weiss managed to dodge just in time, while simultaneously catching her as she collapsed on the ground. Another man approached in the next moment to have Weiss notice his head being turned completely around. He was still alive, breathing and well, but completely mad with his limbs being disoriented, contorted like rubber.

Carrying the two patients toward several of the doctors, the Atlesian soldiers took those two to a nearby tent as the rest saluted their Chancellor.

“We have no idea what on earth is going on,” the head doctor told her, handing her his clipboard. “People are dropping like flies everywhere. There’s no common symptoms among the patients. It’s impossible to identify.”

“How far along have you gotten with the substance in the water?” Weiss asked, handing him back the clipboard after speedreading it in under a second.

“Still nothing so far. We’ve been super occupied with the patients as well. The Fleet Admiral has already sent samples back home, so we should be able to get faster results.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“Who would do something like this? And how? Right under our noses, too.”

And answering that question, Weiss simply looked onward to a strange distance and said:

“Peter Port.”

Creeping up from behind, he appeared without anybody noticing. Not even by Weiss’ own super hearing. One of the doctors grunted a sudden painful expression, with his face turning into a hellish hue of pale white. Now, they then turned to see his eyes slowly deteriorating into a sickly yellow before they fully morphed into a familiar green color, one Weiss had already seen on the battlefield.

Oobleck.

Manifesting himself in the body of an innocent man, merely a pawn to be used by him in his scheme. There, his devilish smile crawled from ear to ear, stretching his cheeks as wide as he could, to an unnatural degree. Almost demonic in a sense.

“Peter was the calculator behind the brew,” Oobleck told everyone, “but he needed a little… help. He was smart, but he has no imagination.”

“I should’ve known it was you,” Weiss folded her arms. “Only someone like you would be sadistic enough to come up with something like this.”

“Chief Torturer, at your service as always,” he bowed. “You’ve bested me, Daughter of Atlas. You did a real number on my Oobleck. I don’t know how, but I’ll have to regenerate. This is not going to stop me, however. The God King will reign again.”

“You’re strong, Oobleck,” said Weiss, “I’ll give you that. And you do have a Maiden on your side. But she is young, inexperienced. She will not be enough to break Atlas, nor our alliance with Mistral and its Queen.”

“Maiden powers are paltry compared to conceptual divine forces,” Oobleck scoffed. “You can feel this as well, can’t you? You yourself are not Maiden. Or maybe you are, it’s a little hard… to tell. But there is definitely something else there. I admit, even if we have three Maidens, I don’t think it would be enough to defeat you. But what about… a Season?”

Weiss’ eyes lit up the moment she heard the mention. She asked:

“What are you talking about?”

Oobleck cackled:

“The war drum still beats. The heart of the Valley. She is still alive. You’ve survived every physical thing thrown at you so far. But I wonder – what about conceptual energies?”

With that, Oobleck left the doctor’s body, collapsing his limp lifeless body to the ground, which Weiss was quick to catch, to then put on a stretcher.

Universe 2…

“We should have time for a couple more sparring matches, class. Do we have any volunteers? We’ll be drawing names if nobody steps up,” Professor Glynda Goodwitch asked in front of a packed combat lecture hall.

“I’ll do it!” Yang raised her hand, smiling.

“Miss Xiao Long, you have already participated in two previous bouts. I think it’s about time we give other students the opportunity to spar as well, don’t you?”

“If she’s out,” Nora shouted, “does that mean I’m in? Come on, I want in. Gimme, gimme!”

“You, young lady,” Glynda pointed her finger, “has participated in three bouts this class. How about… let’s see here. Ah, Miss Nikos and Miss Schnee. Neither of you has gotten a turn yet. I also have a note here about how you want extra time to practice for the tournament, is that right Miss Schnee?”

“It’s true. I haven’t been feeling super great since that train incident. I think I need to work on my stamina, and Aura management.”

“Very well then. I suppose then we ought to put the two of you in a match together then. This should be educational.”

The classroom instantly erupted into a flood of whispers and murmurs, for everybody here knew that Weiss and Pyrrha were the strongest students in the entire class, possibly even in the entire school. With Weiss being the embodiment of immaculate skill and hard work on top of a naturally powerful Semblance, while Pyrrha represented the overwhelming strength of a warrior, perfect in every way with no holes in her defense. It was not often they would even get to watch the two of them go at it against one another.

“Oh, this is going to be good,” Yang kicked back, laughing.

“Go Weiss!” Ruby shouted. “I believe in you! Represent Team RWBY!”

But before either Weiss or Pyrrha could even grab their equipment, a hand shot up into the air, catching Glynda’s attention.

And it came from none other than the exchange student Rubio Rose.

“May I get a shot at sparring?” He said, grinning like a robot.

And thus, shocking the whole classroom, for many students here did not even know who this young man was. And what was more concerning was the fact that they had now begun noticing the striking similarities between him and his ‘cousin’ Ruby Rose, almost to an uncanny degree. Which only sparked up further murmurs among themselves, filling the hall with new noises.

“Mister… Rubio Rose, is it? Ruby Rose’s cousin,” Glynda checked her notes. “I suppose we ought to give priority to our exchange students coming here to participate in the Vytal Festival.”

“Thank you for the opportunity.”

“So, do you have an opponent in mind, Mister Rose? Or shall I do the matchmaking for you?”

“Thanks. But why don’t you put me up against – let’s see here… ah, how about Weiss Schnee and Pyrrha Nikos? How does that sound?”

The implication was not lost on the students.

“No way.”

“Is that kid crazy?”

“Who even is this guy? Is he new?”

“I don’t know. But he’s asking for it, going up against those two.”

“At the same time?”

“Nah, he’s joking, for sure…”

“For real. There’s no way…”

“Bust out the popcorn, yo. It’s about to get interesting.”

Looking around the room, Rubio still smiled. Even with a wider grin now that the people had started talking. He turned back to Glynda, saying:

“Is there a problem?”

“Well… usually sparring sessions are one-on-one,” said Glynda, “but sometimes we do allow more. To cover different scenarios, like when your teammates are down and out on a mission and you’re all alone. I suppose there’s nothing explicitly against the rules. As long as you can handle it.”

“Thanks. I’ll survive. Don’t you worry about me.”

The entirety of Team RWBY knew something the other students did not – the fact that Rubio will do much more than just simply surviving. As a matter of fact, they weren’t even sure of his full potential just yet. So far, they had only seen a glimpse.

Weiss had thought of trying to protest, but deep down was also a curiosity that she felt rumbling into almost a hunger. One that formed into a straightforward expression that she could also read on Pyrrha’s face. They had told Team JNPR of who Rubio really was, and what he was capable of. Or rather, what they saw so far of his abilities.

Taking out her Dust and Myrtenaster while Pyrrha was lacing up her boots, the two eventually made their way down the front of the class, in this wide-open space. There, Pyrrha wielded her sharp blade and shield, holding on tighter than any opponent she had ever come across in her life.

Perhaps feeling nervous for the first time. But it was somehow calmed by a strange sensation once she remembered back to what Rubio said to her when they first met – that being the fact that she seemed familiar to him somehow, and yet he was sure he had never seen her before in his life.

She puzzled over this, because deep down – she felt the same way.

Outside of the classroom, the trio of Cinder, Mercury, and Emerald walked by the lecture hall, with Mercury suddenly peeking his head into the classroom.

“Hey, Cinder,” Mercury called her over, tapping her shoulder, “is that… the Rose girl fighting the Schnee and Nikos girl – at the same time?”

“What? No way,” said Emerald. “Is that really her? She looks… different.”

“Wait, no. The Rose girl is sitting over there,” Mercury pointed his finger to the girl cheering for her team. “Then who on earth is that? She looks just like her.”

“I think that she is a ‘he’ actually,” Mercury squinted his eyes.

“What?”

“Yeah, crazy, right?”

“Cinder, what do you make of this?” Emerald asked.

Surprisingly staying silent, Cinder simply stared into the class with unblinking eyes. Cycling through many thoughts that began popping into her head, asking questions, but more importantly – recalibrating their plan with this new information.

After a brief moment of deliberation, she entered the classroom, saying to her two followers:

“Come, we should see what this one can do.”

Now standing on opposite sides of the class, three combatants stepped forth. Facing his two opponents, Rubio could see glimpses of something ethereal he could not really explain. He thought it was their Aura, but it seemed different somehow. A lot more loose, perhaps underdeveloped. As if the energies coming out of their bodies were invisible and more esoteric than mere Aura.

Neither Weiss nor Pyrrha was paying attention to what Rubio was focusing on, however.

“I don’t understand why you want to do this,” said Weiss. “If you know you’re going to beat the both of us with both hands tied behind your back then what’s the point?”

“Oh, that’s an idea,” Rubio laughed. “I can handicap myself, just to make this more fair.”

“I don’t really understand it either,” said Pyrrha, “but I welcome the challenge. I think it could be fun.”

“There we go, now we’re talking,” Rubio smiled.

“But still,” Weiss folded her arms. “I don’t know.”

“How about this,” Rubio clapped his hands together, rubbing them vigorously. “How about I don’t use my Semblance at all? No Silver Eyes, no superspeed, just me, my legs, and my Aura. How’s that sound?”

Looking at each other, Weiss and Pyrrha nodded their heads. And it was at this moment, that Rubio could see their ethereal mystery between the two girls merging, uniting to form something bright. He wasn’t sure if what he was seeing was the result of his Silver Eyes, but he was getting much more excited now that he was witnessing something new.

Or perhaps, something old.

Taking out Myrtenaster at the same time Pyrrha raised her shield and sword, who then transformed that crimson golden blade into a javelin. The famed weapon Pyrrha used to conquer numerous battles and win countless tournaments.

Rubio marveled at the construction of the blood-red sword that so quickly and efficiently morphed into this powerful spear. Which he immediately realized may have been a mistake on account that it made him feel distracted enough to notice the several Fire and Ice Dust projectiles that were already placed right in front of his face.

Already on one knee, which was something Pyrrha had never done in these sparring sessions, she unloaded every bullet in her chamber. Placing the rifle on top of her shield, placed in front for defense. The speed at which she morphed her javelin into the shape of a rifle was astounding. Nobody managed to keep track of it. Almost as if she was pulling it out of a magician’s hat.

Standing behind Pyrrha, Weiss twirled her rapier like a graceful snow flower, unleashing a shower of fire and ice hailing from above to accompany Pyrrha’s own offense. Which was then further enhanced the moment her white glyphs from her Semblance appeared to create multiple platforms surrounding where Rubio was standing. Thus, creating perfect surfaces for even more of her Dust projectiles to bounce off at different angles. Transforming the offense into something that was almost unbeatable.

Unbeatable against ordinary Huntsmen or students at least. Because when the smoke had cleared, the classroom was shocked to find no scratch on Rubio anywhere. Not on his clothes, nor his skin. Not even a speck of dust on that obnoxious smile of his.

“I swear,” he chuckled, “I was not using my Eyes. It’s back to fundamentals for me.”

Abandoning their long-ranged tactic, Weiss activated her Glyphs at the bottom of both their feet, thus allowing for a massive boost in speed as the both of them dashed in, stabbing Rubio with the rapier and the red blade.

Only to then be completely shocked by Rubio’s defense, as he had managed to block both stabs with nothing but a simple forward kick. What made this kick unique, however, was the fact that his feet never made contact against the steel of the swords. It was as if there was an invisible force field made of spiritual concrete physically pushing both Weiss and Pyrrha away.

Trying once more, Weiss twirled gracefully into a glyph placed above right behind her head, a platform placed there for her to launch forward, striking and slashing at Rubio in every way she knew how. Overhead, from below, and from the sides, all powered like a machine gun.

Pyrrha, too, followed suit, charging in with her shield, holding her lance behind, slicing in an incredibly precise and practiced manner, boosted by the power of the rifle, shooting from behind as if the weapon was a rocket to enhance the power of the skillful strikes, forming almost into a red tornado with the way she was spinning around. Leaping off the ground for aerial offense.

All of which, in the end, was countered and blocked by Rubio’s equally skillful kicks. Constantly roundhousing the blades as they came. Even at one point hopping off the ground to tiptoe on the edge of Weiss’ rapier. All the while keeping his hands behind his back to honor their agreement of a handicap.

“Holy crap,” Mercury stood up, almost slamming his fist on the table.

“Wow, he’s even better than you were during class the other day,” said Emerald. “What do you make of this, Cinder?”

No reply.

“Cinder?”

Remaining silent, the woman’s eyes were laser-focused on the battle, with an unfamiliar expression on her face that was difficult for Emerald to read. So in the end she decided to continue watching the match, not wanting to disturb Cinder’s concentration.

“They weren’t kidding,” Rubio laughed, “you guys really are the best.”

“This is pointless,” Weiss cried. “Why do you even want to do this?”

“I don’t know,” Rubio shrugged. “There’s something about the two of you that’s kinda… weird. It’s hard to explain. You’ll find out about it one of these days, I’m sure. But for now, just know – you’re not the only ones I want to show myself to.”

By simply walking past both Weiss and Pyrrha in the next millisecond, he had already managed to shock the entire class on account that his walking speed just seemed supernaturally fast. In a way where neither Weiss nor Pyrrha managed to react. It was as if they were frozen statues, stuck in their fighting stance.

Only to, in the end, be completely struck by thousands of devastating Aura attacks that seemingly came out of nowhere, after Rubio was already standing behind the two of them. It was as if there were a hundred invisible fists simultaneously punching the two of them over and over again. At a pace that managed to shatter their protective Aura barrier in a matter of seconds.

Weiss and Pyrrha immediately realized, as they hit the ground, that this invisible force was the power of Rubio’s Aura. This must have been what he meant by the fundamentals.

Falling into silence at the sound of their best students collapsing, the other students were left completely speechless after a long minute that seemed to last almost for an eternity. The two strongest in the class, the two smartest fighters, the most brilliant tacticians, ones with near perfect fighting records – completely overpowered as if they were nothing but schoolchildren.

“WHAAAAAAT!”

The whispers and murmurs continued with vigorous passion, with many not knowing how to process the situation, presenting forward a hundred questions, while others tried to rectify their confusion with battle requests against this supposed ‘nobody’ they had never seen before in their lives.

In the end, the chaos was calmed by Professor Goodwitch as well as the school bell ringing.

“That’s the class for today, everyone,” Glynda said. “I know you are all eager for more sparring, but I’m afraid that’s going to have to wait. Please exit the auditorium in an orderly fashion. Don’t forget to review the lesson’s recordings and finish the exercise you’ve been assigned. It will be due next week. Team RWBY, can you all stick around a bit after class, if you please. I’d like to have a word with you and your new… friend.”

The other students scattered out of the classroom, still having their eyes and attention glued on Team RWBY as they approached the front desk, but in the end, their curiosity was ultimately squashed by Glynda’s strict serious stare, of which none of the other students wanted to upset.

So they said goodbye to each other as the room slowly emptied itself into a silence populated by the mere humming of the numerous light bulbs throughout the lecture hall. Even Cinder’s crew themselves disappeared into the crowd, with many things they were eager to discuss among themselves back in their own dorm room.

Jaune and the rest of his Team JNPR helped Pyrrha back on her feet, to see her bright cheerful smile as the group waved goodbye to their friends. Nora being thrilled on the side on account of what she had just seen. With her excitement quickly curbed by Ren in order to not make a ruckus. And there, JNPR left the room, accompanying Pyrrha to the locker room.

Now, with nobody else in the room, except for Team RWBY, Glynda Goodwitch, and Rubio Rose.

“So, let’s get to it,” said Glynda. “That was… quite a performance, young man. Miss Schnee, you too have performed admirably. Might I suggest extra practice with your close-ranged offense? The speed and the angles were very impressive, but it was obvious you have not put in much time to practice those techniques.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Weiss nodded. “I’ll try my best.”

“Very good. Now, I understand that this – cousin of yours is transferring from Mistral. Highly unorthodox if I do say so myself.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Weiss nodded. “We realize this was pretty last minute and such.”

“But there’s been some personal issues with Rubio’s family in Mistral,” said Ruby. “Some private stuff. It’s… hard to say.”

“Say no more,” said Glynda, “I understand that it is a delicate matter, but you must understand that we simply cannot allow just anybody into this campus without being made aware ahead of time. It’s not only a security concern, but a systemic one as well.”

“We… understand.”

“That being said,” Glynda continued, “you have managed to provide the proper documentation for his transfer. So I suppose I can make a special exception just this once and let it slide. It is, however, not yet a new semester, meaning we won’t be able to fully enroll you into our school’s system until then. That also means we won’t be able to enroll you into our student housing system as well.”

“That’s okay, Goodwitch,” Rubio smiled. “You don’t have to pretend anymore.”

“Excuse me?”

Staring on without blinking, to everyone’s sudden extreme confusion, Rubio’s grin grew more unsettling by the second as the silence stretched to what felt like an anxious inevitability. He said:

“I know you recognize me. I see now why I gravitated toward this universe. My eyes showed me.”

The four girls did not know how to properly respond, turning to their teacher who they knew well for the last few semesters. They were sure, despite not knowing everything about her personally, she still looked like that same person. But still, something inside was stirring now that Rubio had disrupted this balance.

Yang simply mustered up a single word:

“Professor?”

Shaking her head, still staring at Rubio, Glynda said after clearing her throat:

“Young man, I do not know what you are implying. But we ought to stay focused on the topic at hand concerning your…”

“Professor, please,” Rubio cut her off. “It’s good to see you again. It’s been too long. You are his right-hand woman. You know of the power of prophecy. Did he not tell you this was coming? Come now. I’m here now.”

Right there and then – Glynda’s eyes changed. Shifting from a stern look of a strict schoolteacher to that familiar steel gaze of a general who had killed thousands with a blade. The woman took off her eyeglasses, wiping them with her handkerchief before placing them back, readjusting them to match those silent raging eyes of a cold killer.

Team RWBY, too, had now started to notice something completely different. It was as if they were seeing a magic trick.

Or something of magick.

“The God King does not require your service,” Glynda said as she snapped her fingers. And immediately from behind her desk – her sword flew out from underneath, landing straight into the palm of her hand.

“Why do you lie to me?” Rubio smirked, as he instantly drew out Crescent Rose. “Let me see him, General Goodwitch. This is a matter between those who can see the future.”

Far above, in the Beacon tower where the headmaster’s office was located, a bright green light bursting from a torch could now be seen from miles away. Holding onto this fire was that man, wearing a stolen face, one that was not his and yet exactly like himself. His face from another universe. The God King Ozymandias, taking the role of Headmaster Ozpin.

“Come to me, Son of Summer. We have work to do.”

Through Rubio’s eyes, he could see this, and thus he readied his scythe.

Back in the classroom, Weiss stepped forth, almost shouting:

“Okay, someone please stop and explain to me what is going on. Professor, please tell me this is just some kind of practical joke. Or perhaps a test of some kind for extra credits?”

“Yeah, yeah, this is definitely a prank of some kind,” said Yang. “It’s very funny guys, but you can stop pulling our legs now.”

Without even paying the four girls any more attention, Glynda immediately lifted them off the ground with her Telekinesis, to then toss them straight to the left side of the room pinning the four of them to the wall, so much so that cracks began to form on the concrete surface. All that, with just a simple flick of her wrist.

“Professor!” Weiss yelled, trying to twitch her muscles to no avail. “What are you doing?”

“What’s the meaning of this?” Yang cried.

“Rubio! What’s going on?” Ruby shouted, trying her hardest to morph out of Glynda’s grip using her Speed Semblance, but that too proved to be no use against Glynda’s power.

“You know I can free them with my speed, right?” Rubio smirked.

Before Glynda instantly snapped her fingers again, this time summoning her purple General’s uniform that flew down from the hallway and into the classroom, flying faster than sound, and then attaching themselves onto Glynda’s body before morphing her teacher’s clothes into this military attire, changing the very fabric on a molecular level with the sheer force of her Telekinesis. Letting the fabric wrap around her hands, forming into white gloves, and crawling onto her head to create that signature purple service cap she had always worn. One with the golden emblem of Vale decorating on the front.

“You are one of the most dangerous beings I know,” said Glynda, “but you still have much to learn.”

With another flick of her hand, the force of her Telekinesis lifted Rubio off the ground, to his absolute shock, incapacitating him as he too struggled to lift a finger and move a muscle. He was taken aback by the fact that somehow, some way – his future vision did not warn him of this attack, and furthermore was the fact that he had difficulty teleporting away out of Glynda’s invisible grip.

Until he finally remembered the fact that his future vision could be overpowered by a strong enough gravitational field, which to him, implied that this same weakness could also be applied to other parts of his Semblance, thus limiting his movement.

He had always pondered the possibility at the back of his head, but he ultimately figured that nobody short of the Superman was strong enough to overpower and restrain him in this manner. Because Rubio’s own protective Aura was nothing to scoff at. But here, running into Glynda, Ozymandias’ right-hand woman, was absolutely eye-opening for the young man.

Because this was the woman who fought one of the Northern Giants.

“Fighting Ironwood almost killed me,” Glynda explained. “But on Death’s doorstep, I came back. It made me a lot stronger.”

And there, pushing with all her might, focusing on the palm of her right hand, she tossed Rubio out into the distance, smashing him through layers upon layers of concrete walls, launching him so far, the moment Rubio regained his bearings – he realized he was actually on Mistral. Covered in a pile of smashed rocks and collapsed forests.

Chapter Text

Universe 1938…

There was an island located somewhere east of Argus, the port city built at the northern region of Mistral, acting as the trading center between the Atlas Empire and the Kingdom of Mistral. Argus here, to the surprise of a lot of Maru’s troops, were not his target for this side mission he had to ask permission from the Chancellor for. No, rather what he was interested in was that nameless island, half covered in snow, and half covered in the light of the sun.

The island in question had no natural resources to speak of, and it had always been strangely inhospitable even with the awesome might of Atlas’ military and technological powers. It was not a matter of Grimm or even the grueling cold. Both of those could be conquered by the power of man. It all seemed ordinary somehow. Some travelers, both Mistralians and Alesians, had tried to conquer the land in the past. Only to be thwarted by what could only be described as supernatural means.

“In 897 AA,” Maru told his student Diamond Sky, “a Mistralian wandering adventurer by the name of Yuyofkr, a pre-War man with a pre-War name, made his way north to this very island we see here. He was avoiding religious persecution from the peoples of his homeland, so he thought of fleeing here with his family. His wife Korykr, and two daughters, Menrialkr, and Lentalkr.”

Diamond listened intently, standing behind her Fleet Admiral as the airship approached this frozen wasteland. Maru continued:

“Things were working out fine for the man. He cleared out the Grimm in the southern part of the island in a matter of weeks. Setting up a little cabin for them just as fast. It all came crumbling down the moment he stumbled upon a strange dark pit that seemed to spiral to a bottomless distance. After finding out about the pit, something within the man snapped. As he committed murder by tossing his wife and two daughters down the darkness, never to be heard from again.”

Walking to a table nearby, Maru flipped open a book. A historical record of a few more settlement attempts people had tried to make in the past. He continued:

“In 1921 AA, a scientist by the name of Dr. Grayer decided to take a small expedition team to research this strange phenomenon plaguing this island. He too noticed the strange spiraling pit the moment they arrived, one with such an indescribable attractive force that one of the assistants immediately slipped in and fell to her death. Dr. Grayer stayed there for a total of three months. Only three files of his research notes and logs have been sent back to Atlas, all of which only covered preliminary observations and other brief notes, none of which was useful in deciphering what this pit actually was. He had never been heard from again after that.”

Shuffling through more pages, he landed on a page near the end of the book. Putting his finger on the lines written, he read aloud:

“In 2365 AA, the Valean King at the time, King Charles the Fifth, announced that he had invented a magical contraption that would be able to capture images of what was going on down there in the darkness of the bottomless pit. A magical lantern infused with his very own Aura, strengthening it to an unfathomable degree. It is written that King Charles possessed the power to shake mountains and even move the very orbit of the moon itself. Some of these claims were dubious, but he really was a powerful magician of Vale. One who should not be underestimated. This time, it was his turn to make his voyage to the far lands of the East. The specifics of the trip itself were not well documented, we do not have many surviving accounts of what he really did while he was on the island. But it is said that when he returned to his kingdom, he possessed a strange fire within the center of his lantern. A flame that was burning for months without going out. A fire – that eventually turned green.”

Diamond herself was quick to pick up on the implication of what this might mean. She asked:

“Sir, are you saying that the source of Ozymandias’ power, the source of his green prophetic flames – originated from this bottomless pit on this island?”

“We have to consider the possibility,” Maru replied, grabbing his long coat from his chair and pulling it over his shoulders.

For the airship had arrived at its destination.

Stepping out into a furious icicle storm blowing against the very surface of the metal airship, Maru and Diamond persevered and pressed forward, protecting themselves from the cold with their own powerful coat of Aura.

The ice and snow seemed to stretch for miles, over hills and small mountains. It was as if Winter herself was covering up any trails or history of mortals attempting to settle on this island so long ago. There was a feeling that made it seem prehistoric, untouched by anything but the natural power of the Seasons.

“It seems like the only people throughout history who were able to return,” said Maru as they walked, “were the powerful men who could break mountains. King Charles was one such example – as am I.”

“This is not the first time you visited this place, sir?”

“No. I have been here many times. The pit never did anything to me while I was investigating. But none of the trips in the past yielded anything worthwhile.”

“What makes you think this time will be different?”

Looking above the raging sky as he readjusted his white beret, Maru walked on and replied simply:

“Oz must be stopped. That’s all there is to it.”

Out from the fog of the snow, the pit emerged for Maru and his troops to see, seemingly as if it was deliberately hidden away just mere moments ago. In the end, they did not have to walk far to find this thing, whatever it was.

One large hole the size of a swimming pool, something that was emitting strange auras that almost felt alive somehow. With a strange rumbling emanating from deep below at an unknown source, ringing all around their ears as they approached this unknown darkness. The rumbling grew louder and louder now, and at a steady pace as well. Like breathing.

Looking around the cold waste, Diamond could not pick up anything that seemed out of the ordinary. Except for the fact that Maru himself seemed deeply familiar with what he was actually here for, despite claiming his own previous investigations had yet to yield any fruit.

But there, from the corner of their eyes, popping into their line of sight just as both their heads turned, being completely sure that they did not see him there before. And yet here he was, sitting at the edge of the large pit, almost falling into the dark depths.

A floating head – covered by a leather hooded cloak.

The two of them could not quite make out what the features on the head’s face looked like. The square jawline indicated that he was definitely a man, however. But the completely empty eyes obscured by the hood were unsettling, giving a vibe that this was some kind of reanimated floating corpse.

One that began to speak:

“Why have you come here again, Fleet Admiral Maru of Atlas?”

Taking off his beret and slicking his hair back, Maru tossed the hat aside as he pulled his white eyepatch off his face. Revealing an empty eye socket with brutal scars decorating his rough ancient skin. He then continued to unfasten the red tie on his uniform, also taking it off and chucking it in the air to let it be devoured by the storm.

The head continued:

“You will find nothing good here for you, Disciple of Auric.”

Readying her fighting stance, Diamond was prepared to launch herself toward this unholy aberration hovering before their eyes. Only to then be stopped by Maru as he held his arm forward, signaling her to stand down.

“I am here to do whatever it takes,” Maru declared, “Ozymandias has grown too strong. Zoz has grown too strong. And I cannot defeat him in my current state. You are an observer. So observe this.”

Maru then turned to Diamond, pulling from inside his long coat a rope which he handed over to her. The rope looked to stretch out far despite being neatly tucked away inside this coat. Possibly even reaching to near a mile if Diamond had to estimate. But what was much more concerning for the young woman was the fact that at the end of the rope – was a noose.

As soon as she noticed it, Maru took the noose out of her grasp and immediately placed it over his head, before securing it around his own neck. Confused, Diamond’s cold killer expression began to morph into one of concern. Which was then ultimately interrupted when Maru then said:

“I need you to do this for me, soldier. Whatever happens next, you must not stray from my directive. Is that understood?”

Reluctantly, she nodded her head, unable to deviate from her training. Maru continued:

“You must hold onto this rope, and you must not let go, no matter what. Hold onto it with everything you have and stay in place. What I am about to do next won’t make much sense to you. But all will be revealed in due time. Will you do this for Atlas, soldier?”

Upon hearing that, she immediately saluted Maru, now with a determined look in her eyes. She vowed:

“Yes, for the glory of our Empire.”

Saluting her back, Maru nodded his head:

“Good. This will take some time. Endure this with me. There is a possibility that this could fail. In the event that it does, I want you to know – it has been an honor being your mentor.”

Now, the Fleet Admiral powered up his hand with an overwhelming layer of Aura, before immediately jamming his fingers into his one remaining good eye. Grunting in pain, he powered through the sudden burst of blood and yanked the eyeball straight out of its socket. Within a second, he was holding it in the palm of his hand. With red dripping down his face and his hand.

Turning to the pit, Maru tossed his eyeball down the pit, losing himself in pitch-black blindness.

Still not finished, he clapped his hands together, and here, with the last of his remaining Aura reserve, he summoned forth an energy that shook the very island they were standing on. With the light of the power now rupturing the cold brewing storm surrounding the area, piercing into the sky like a light beacon at sea, or a thunderbolt striking the ice.

From this Aura, Maru managed to do something rarely seen. A technique so complex and advanced, it had only been discussed on a theoretical level. With many theorizing only those with strong enough Auras like the Giants could have possibly accomplished such a thing.

Maru summoned forth an energy construct – in the shape of a spear.

Standing there speechless, Diamond knew not what to do or what to say. And yet, her own confusion was exacerbated when Maru took the light spear and plunged it deep into his own chest, stabbing straight through his ribs, straight through his heart, and straight to the other side.

Coughing up blood, the man was losing strength quickly, so he needed to work fast. Fortunately for him, he only had one thing left to do in this ritual. But fortune would not be a good way to describe what he was about to do. As here in the roaring blizzard, the Fleet Admiral stepped off the edge of this massive pit, letting himself be taken by the crawling grip of the darkness.

Remembering Maru’s orders, but still feeling reluctant, Diamond was almost thrown off her feet when the rope began yanking out of her hands. She held it tight in the next moment, but here with the weight of a Northern Giant, she still struggled to hold on as the body of her mentor continued to fall deeper and deeper, with almost no end in sight.

Without her Aura protecting her palms, she would’ve been completely shredded by the force of the friction, pulling with furious rage that could ignite a fire if needed. But all that was on her mind now was not anything concerning her own wellbeing, rather she was only focused on the body of the Fleet Admiral finally hitting a stop, now no longer falling and no longer pulling on the thick rope.

She could not see how far he had fallen, but she was sure the body was still there, dangling deep below, as if close to the very core of the planet itself.

“What are we doing here?” Sienna asked Tyrian.

Here, the man led her into an Autumn Church. A relic of a building made from strong white stones that miraculously looked as if they hadn’t aged a single day. While weathered by time, it still told stories. Many of those from travelers passing by carving their prayers onto the surface. It was an old tradition that not many people in the modern days continued, but it was a sign of the church’s old generosity that still lasted to the Mistralians of today.

As they approached the cathedral, the sound of ethereal chants and the flickering glow of enchanted candles drew them closer, inviting them inside into its sacred embrace. Inside, the air was thick with must and decay, but over on the far table in front of rows upon rows of intricately carved wooden benches was a long table covered with a white sheet and decorated with a row of golden candles on top. Kneeling in front before the table were the priests humming their hymns.

But from here, the one on Tyrian’s focus was none of those praying in the front, the holy men. Instead, slipping behind along the left wall, he spotted an old longtime friend of his.

Father Hazel Rainart.

Father Rainart was a tall and muscular middle-aged man with short dark brown hair, a beard, and hazel eyes. He was also unusually large and broad, standing at eight feet tall. His skin was tanned and the several scars on his face and particularly his body were all obscured by his dark priestly robe, suggesting that he had been in many fights in the past. Something that was difficult to hide from Tyrian’s devilish eyes.

Unlike the other priests, he wore no gloves. And his forearms being so huge made it hard to hide underneath the long sleeves as well, showing off a thick layer of hair covering even more of those unusual scars.

The man walked on in the darkness, but clearly aware of Tyrian’s presence as he was sneaking up on him from behind.

“You’ve come to our church today,” Hazel said in a low grumbling voice, “so come, I will take your confession, Tyrian Callows.”

Chuckling, Tyrian signaled Sienna to follow him, still walking behind the large priest.

“It’s good to see you too, Rainart. But I’m not here to join your cult.”

“Yes… because you have your own at your company.”

“Looks like the holy life didn’t kill your sense of humor, old friend.”

“Hmm, I see you’ve brought a friend.”

Approaching to shake his hand, Sienna stepped forth:

“Hello, Father. My name is Sienna.”

“I am Hazel Rainart,” he shook her hand, smiling faintly. “Pleased to meet you, Sienna.”

“Likewise.”

“So then…” Hazel turned to Tyrian, “what can I do for you?”

Wrapping his arm around the priest, Tyrian began looking around, trying to see if they were being watched, before he told him:

“I know you know a lot of shit. Hell, I bet you know every face that has ever walked on Mistral.”

“Flattering, continue.”

“What I am here for is a name, a face, and a story. Think you can provide that?”

Glancing back at Tyrian, not exactly anxious, but instead more confused, maybe even a bit annoyed. But still wanted to stay calm and push through, Hazel asked:

“Who are you looking for?”

And there, Tyrian answered simply:

“You’ve heard of the name Penny Polendina, haven’t you?”

Hazel’s eyes lit up the moment he heard the mention of that name. The expression on his face morphed into something that was difficult to read. Confusion mixed with a subtle hint of something that almost looked like terror, or at the very least something that could be classified as extreme caution.

Answering his question, Hazel said:

“I have heard of that name, yes. And so have you. The both of you.”

Confused, Sienna looked to Tyrian’s empty expression for answers, only to find a stoic unimpressed face. Hazel then elaborated:

“Penny Polendina – is the Superman.”

Looking to the other priests to make sure they were not paying attention, Hazel confirmed they were still deep prayers, so thus, he gestured his hand for the two of them to follow him down into a dark hallway hidden behind a thick red curtain, not letting them have the time to even process what he had just said.

The hallway was long and narrow, with walls made of rough stone, barely lit. The floor was covered in a thick layer of dust making the air stale and musty. The only light here came from a few flickering candles at the far end of the hallway.

The hallway was empty, save for a few old pews that had been pushed up against the walls. There was a sense of foreboding in the air, as if something sinister was lurking in the shadows. But with Hazel here, under the shadow of his large stature, there was a sense of security. A sense that this holy man could not possibly do harm unto any living thing.

Leading to a wooden door, he took out a small key and turned, letting the loud clicking sound echo down the stone hall, here into what the other two assumed was Hazel’s study. It was a surprisingly cozy room, with the same dark stones for walls and a fireplace that crackled merrily. The walls were lined with bookshelves, filled with books of all shapes and sizes. At the center of the room was a large desk, where the occupant could sit and write or read. There were also two comfortable red armchairs by the fire, presumably for any visiting guest.

There on his modest wooden table, one that seemed too small for the large man, were several quills and inkwells on the desk, and a few books were open, which Sienna assumed were holy texts of some kind. With many written in languages she did not recognize.

“Have a seat,” Hazel said. “Would you like something to drink?”

“We’re not here to socialize,” Tyrian folded his arms, surprisingly changing his mood.

“I’ll have some tea if you have them,” Sienna then responded despite Tyrian’s reaction.

“Certainly,” Hazel smiled, as he had already instinctively poured a cup from a pot on a table next to his desk.

“Like I said,” Tyrian insisted, “we’re not here to socialize. What I need is for you to elaborate on what you mean when you said this Penny is the Superman.”

His smile now disappeared, he glanced back at Tyrian with a serious look on his face. And now, not wasting any more time, he sighed and said:

“You’re right that I remember many faces on Mistral. Thousands if not more. I don’t usually just tell anybody about the whereabouts of these people out of respect for their privacy, but since you are a friend… and there is also a matter of – prophecy.”

“Of what?”

“Things have been building up to something big,” Hazel continued. “Our holy texts have specified them. Many people say that parts of the prophecy are lost elsewhere. And while that may be true, what we have is illuminating.”

“Get to the point, Hazel,” said Tyrian.

“What I’m telling you is very important,” said Hazel, seemingly ignoring Tyrian’s command. “I assume you found out about the name Penny from the Golden Gladiators, correct?”

The two nodded their heads.

“And I assume, then, that you’ve also seen that rock with all the swords, correct?”

“Where are you going with this?” Tyrian asked impatiently.

“The truth of the matter is,” Hazel walked up to his bookshelf and began pulling out several books, “Penny Polendina is someone I knew long before she returned to the Gladiators six years ago.”

“Wait, ‘return?’”

“Yes. I met Penny and her parents twenty years ago. In this country. They moved here from the North for a few years. Before moving back to Atlas. At the time, I had no idea. She seemed normal to me. But now you know…”

And there, pulling out from a book he held in his hands, was an old photograph that seemed folded and nearly crumpled. Which the existence of the photo in of itself was bizarre as both Sienna and Tyrian expected one to take a picture with their scrolls, not this antiquated technology.

In the photo was a scene of Hazel standing next to a father, a mother, and a red-haired daughter, barely taller than their knees. A smiling young girl in a golden dress, with sparkling green eyes like emerald.

Universe 2…

“Come to me, Son of Summer. I see you.”

Far below on the grassy grounds of Beacon Academy, on the plains where the Vytal Festival was planned to take place – was now a place consumed by a foreign hell nobody on this planet could have foreseen.

General Goodwitch, a Huntress with the power of nuclear bombs, walked out as massive sections of the school’s numerous towers began to crumble behind her path, with each heavy step rumbling the earth from the overwhelming force of her Aura. Here, the school’s emergency alarm began to sound, echoing behind the roaring flames of destruction.

Jaune and the rest of his team were just walking about outside the buildings when they heard the loud thunderous sound of what felt like doom. Almost knocking them off their feet from the sheer force of the sound alone. Sprinting around the corner, they were shocked to see their teacher Goodwitch in that unfamiliar uniform. One that ultimately made them feel as if they had never known this woman in their entire lives. They had to squint their eyes before they could recognize her. All being made extra difficult through her stern gaze full of bloodlust.

“Professor?” Nora looked on, deep in confusion.

“That… can’t be her…” Jaune commented.

Stepping out of the fire, Glynda stretched out her right hand, and within moments, her Telekinesis brought before her ten soldiers patrolling the Academy, and with a single swing of the sword, their bodies were sliced clean in half. They did not even have time to react or process.

Tossing the bodies aside, she levitated several bullets out of the soldiers, and as they hovered over the palm of her hand, she glanced back to several more towers in the distance. Once more, tossing the bullets away and letting her Semblance carry them far off, and the bullets flew like wasps, attacking viciously – crumbling the stones one by one, brick by brick. Crushing anything in their way. Shattering all the windows as they pierced through concrete and doors, killing even more now that the towers were collapsing.

“What is she doing?” Jaune shouted, unsure if what he was seeing was even real.

“Where is Team RWBY? They were just with her a moment ago,” said Ren.

“Heads up!”

Shouting from behind, Team CFVY emerged, with all members prepared for battle, wearing serious expressions on their faces. Including their fearless and usually calm leader Coco Adel. Who now knew they were going up against a veteran-level Huntress, who should not be underestimated.

Yatsuhashi and Fox also readied their weapons, with Yatsu bringing out his massive near seven-foot sword Fulcrum. A monstrous copper-colored blade that was nearly as large as he was. Fox himself, a blind fighter, wore on his forearms two bladed tonfas, attached like massive gauntlets.

Velvet stood by Coco’s side, feeling scared of Glynda, whom they all thought was a familiar caring teacher. Trying to gather herself, she readied her camera, prepared to support her team.

“You guys go evacuate the other students,” Coco ordered Team JNPR. “Yatsu! Go!”

Nodding his head, and instantly leaping off the ground. In his hands he raised his gigantic sword high, almost to the point of blocking out the sun, to then bring the hunk of steel down hard to where Glynda was standing, coating the blade with his own Aura to amplify his attacks.

All of which…

Immediately proved futile when Glynda raised her right hand, stopping the attack short, not even letting the massive sword go anywhere near her. With the overwhelming weight of her Aura, she let the gravity crush the sword into a thousand pieces. Shattered – just like that, faster than one could even blink. A monstrous weapon from a senior student, folded like it were made out of nothing but paper.

Now letting the gravity of her Semblance pull him in close, she grabbed tight onto his neck, choking the young man. Then staring at him directly in his eyes, her own lacking any emotion now that they had come face-to-face.

“Yatsuhashi Daichi. I know you back in my home universe as well. Strong. But you’re in my way.”

A simple slice of her sword – his body was instantly cut in half. The lower parts falling down, now nothing but hunks of meat.

“NO!” Velvet blood-curdling cry immediately morphed into a swift sound of sobbing, seeing the horror before them.

“What the fuck!” Coco gritted her teeth, now rattled, unsure of what to do, but still engulfed in a rage that shook her hands as she tried to clench them.

“What have you done?” Jaune shouted, pointing his finger, demanding an answer.

Turning her head to face the students, Glynda said:

“The multiverse is out there. His life is absolutely insignificant. There are billions just like him.”

“YOU BITCH!” Fox charged forward, ready to cut their professor.

“OPEN FIRE!” Now fully enraged, Coco summoned forth her golden minigun from her handbag. Letting the million bullets loose out onto the field toward where Glynda was standing, coating every single one with thick layers upon layers of rageful Aura, ready to kill. Now not caring anymore that this was their former professor, or so it seemed to them.

Following Coco behind, Velvet also summoned a copy of Coco’s minigun, projected with hard-light from her camera. Now with tears in her eyes, she did not know what to do anymore, but indulge herself in this burning violence, as Beacon’s flame continued to roar.

Backed up by a whole platoon of Beacon adult soldiers, who had now just arrived on the scene. Now on their knees, opening fire from their powerful Dust rifles, firing forth non-stop against a threat they could’ve never foreseen.

Their bullets raced forward, like a rain of steel and fire. Hailed down as judgment from the Academy itself, acting as its immune system, a self-defense mechanism from its tiny organisms.

But Glynda here was not like any ordinary disease. She was a plague. One brought over by a foreign force.

Far up in the Headmaster’s tower, General Ironwood ran up the stairs and burst into Ozpin’s office. Fists clenched, and eyes widened into a red furious gaze, touched by fear.

“Ozpin, what’s the meaning of this? Glynda is attacking the students!”

Entering the office, however, he did not find his old friend Ozpin. Instead, he was only in the presence of something that was wearing his friend’s face. Something that was exuding a new Aura, something he had never felt before in his life. Something that felt – alien.

Here was a man wearing a stylish black three-piece suit with a smooth vest, yellow buttons, and a yellow tie underneath a sickly green scarf. His white hair seemed messier than usual as he now put on his head a green wide-brim hat, one that was abnormally wide, nearly the size of a large wheel on a vehicle. Big enough to obscure his face beneath a sinister shadow. And underneath that – was a cackling smile.

Now disappearing before his sight as soon as Ironwood blinked his eyes. He charged forward, looking around, trying to find where he had gone. Only to suddenly feel a violent sensation digging in from behind his back. One that somehow – instantly broke through his defensive Aura.

Here, Ozymandias’ arm plunged straight through the general, holding his heart out for him to see. A heart covered in blood and mechanical oil. Bursting forth and forcing Ironwood to cough up blood, as the confusion set in. His eyes darting around, and he tried his best to turn around to face his assailant.

With great difficulty, he did manage to take a look at his face. But to his confusion, the face he was looking at was no longer one of a man.

Instead, this was now the visage of Glynda Goodwitch, but one that looked twenty years younger than the one he was acquainted with. Not wearing any glasses, and familiar to him, not only as an old friend – but an old love.

Then – she spoke, but not in her own voice, but in a man’s voice, rumbling in his ears:

“Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”

Ironwood’s scream now, too, echoed, but was still ultimately drowned out by the fire that now melted the bricks and paint of the walls and buildings. What was more was the hail of bullets now lying at General Goodwitch’s feet, scattered all around. Many of which were bloodied, stained from piercing the soldiers and Team CFVY.

Velvet was dead, with her legs torn apart and the rest of her body in Coco’s embrace, as she too was heavily injured. Blood dripping down her face, with her right arm blown off some place she did not know. Nor did she even notice in the middle of this madness.

Glynda looked into the open sky to hear thunder striking. Within the next millisecond – Rubio Rose had arrived back at Beacon, traveling all the way from Mistral. With his scythe in his hands, he was now no longer smiling. Seeing the danger and destruction before his eyes.

“What have you done?” Rubio asked.

“Nothing will stop the Lord God of Vale from returning to his throne.”

The moment she finished her sentence, Glynda snapped her fingers. From far away in the woods. The green ooze of Oobleck released from its illusionary magick an entire armada of Ozymandias’ Valean soldiers. Now marching into this universe, no longer hidden by the green goo, and here – commencing an invasion.

Chapter Text

The scythe and the sword clashed, with echoes of their Aura fragments flying off as crystal birds of freedom, freed from restraints, no longer hiding in the dark, for they both now could show off the true extent of their powers.

Despite being trillions of times faster than Glynda, Rubio knew that this woman’s Aura was too thick to just pierce with ordinary means. The Aura was permanently coating her skin after all. Only a godly amount of force could truly penetrate through and cause damage.

Elsewhere, far in the distance, the foreign Valean army began flooding into the Academy’s ground. Many wore similar uniforms to this universe’s version of the Valean army, with slight variations here and there. Sharper leather, a several officers wearing service caps and golden epaulettes on their shoulders. Several of the men shot their Dust rifles off, blowing the Academy soldiers’ heads off, leaving them in a bloody pool as others trampled over their lifeless corpses.

To aid in their school’s forces, Team JNPR fought off several of these invading soldiers. To their surprise, they were a lot tougher to take down than they first assumed. Which JNPR soon realized made sense considering these men were veterans, and they themselves were still students. They may not have been Huntsmen, but they still had much more experience.

Here, Nora fired off several grenade shots into a group before realizing several of them were falling back, scattering into different formations to begin firing from several different angles, making for an effective offense all while being defensive at the same time. Ren himself tried to cover Nora by spinning around, raining off countless bullets from his submachine guns.

Jaune fell back behind deeper into the crumbling facilities to help evacuate the last of the first-year students. Several of whom, however, insisted on fighting, bringing forth all manners of axes, swords, lances, rifles, and so on.

“Pyrrha! Are there any left in the classrooms?” Jaune shouted.

“That’s the last of them,” she replied. “Come on, let’s go!”

“HEY GUYS!”

From the deeper parts of the hall – Team RWBY emerged.

“Ruby! Guys!” Jaune shouted.

“Jaune! It’s crazy out there,” Ruby cried.

“Come on,” said Yang, “we gotta help everyone.”

They dashed off back out in the open, and there, as witnesses – Glynda and Rubio continued their fight. The scythe and the sword clashed again, this time stronger than before. With Rubio moving around in circles, zipping too fast for anybody to even track where he was going. And yet, the protective Aura around Glynda remained strong, despite several slashes getting through, the damage being dealt was not enough to break this monstrous woman.

Coming from behind for another strike, but this time, Glynda was ready – where she immediately turned around and pushed Rubio off once again with her overwhelming Telekinesis, launching him off toward Vacuo this time.

He came back after a few seconds of being gone, landing right in front of the woman, now with a fire in his eyes.

“Rubio!” Ruby and her team approached, with JNPR not far behind.

But immediately, Rubio shouted at them:

“Stay back! This woman is too dangerous for you guys.”

Stopping dead in their tracks, RWBY and JNPR watched on, almost completely helpless. Still not quite understanding the kind of threat this version of Glynda was posing. Even as some of them looked on in horror at the bodies of Team CFVY that were left in the rubble.

“This evil needs to stop!” Rubio cried.

And here, Glynda simply shook her head:

“You’ll pay for your transgression, traitor. Long live the Lord God of Vale.”

Universe 1938…

The riots continued to roar at the heart of the cities. Doors torn apart, cars rammed straight into walls with no remorse, fires being burned in the middle of the streets, all for the purpose of throwing them all around, spreading the heat of the people’s rage. And there, in the middle of the fire was the flaming hearts of the two peoples, Valeans and Atlesians tearing each other apart, dogs wallowing in hard bloody concrete, biting, snarling, spitting. Their flags were raised, and lines were drawn.

The Chancellor Weiss Schnee could see this the moment she entered Vale. Flying toward the very heart of the fires.

She had heard the blood curdling screams for a long time. But here, with the war still brewing, her mind had been preoccupied. The shouts of innocents dying, however, kept getting louder and louder. It was deafening. Making it difficult to focus. It was not merely an attack on her ears and mind, but also on her heart as well. Her herculean strength was perhaps limitless, but there were things that could only take so much – watching women, children running around being slaughtered, blood painting the road, fuel for the Valean revolution.

When the animals looked up into the sky, their hearts dropped at the sight of a pair of glowing rageful eyes that could illuminate the sun. Judgment had come, and it will not be kind.

“THAT IS ENOUGH!” Weiss’ voice boomed through the city, shattering several windows from the power of her shout alone.

Several men dropped their guns and wooden bats, running to their shelters and hideouts, away from the gaze of the Superman. Despite some of them being completely aware of her incredibly potent vision, their shattered eardrums were still unbearable, disorienting.

Zipping down the streets to grab two of them by the neck, before bringing them up high in the sky and dropping them. They screamed on the way down, and much louder once they hit the ground and their legs were shattered like a mere piece of wood.

Several Valeans rioters responded by opening fire onto the Chancellor. Unloading Dust rifles and bazookas until they were completely empty.

“Fuck you, fascist!”

“FASCIST PIG!”

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF OUR COUNTRY!” They yelled as the Dust exploded where she floated, sending fragments of flames all around. But of course, Weiss was completely unharmed.

For their transgression, Weiss landed violently on the ground where the rioters stood, and the sheer force of the tremors was enough to shatter them into piles of flesh and bones, scattering like sand. They were easy to break, too easy.

Numerous Valeans dashed off in opposite directions, while others continued to charge forth, fighting this living god. Many held bats, some had rifles, some even had military grade swords from licensed Huntsmen.

All of which failed to do any damage the moment Weiss powered up her Aura, to let the gravity of her power crush them all into smithereens. So much blood, too many echoing cries.

Still not over. Something else came from the sky.

Appearing behind her from the rumbling noise of deafening thunderstorms. They came face-to-face not too long ago. With Weiss reiterating the conditions of the war. And yet, here she was – Nora Valkyrie, Maiden, already back, carrying her heavy heavenly hammer as she appeared out of thin air.

Raising the hammer high, infusing it with holy lightning, she drove it straight down onto Weiss. Which Weiss managed to catch with her bare hand. The shockwaves, however, traveled far, and leveled several buildings, crushing everything beneath, the people below, the cars, the fires, the other riots across town.

Weiss was unharmed, but she was caught off guard, for this was not something she saw coming.

Several more hammers came forth, striking in the form of lightning spirits. Swinging with the same godly strength of the Maiden in front of her. Nora’s eyes lit up, powered by furious electricity that held the strength of a supernova.

Scanning the several spirit hammers she had summoned, Weiss realized immediately that Nora had made it so that the hammers would be able to touch her, but intangible if Weiss were to attack back.

“So this is your answer then?” Weiss asked, drawing her rapier.

With her white glyph now powering her up behind her, acting as a platform for her to launch herself off, she flew toward Nora at a speed no mortal could react to. Zipping through the air and setting the atmosphere on fire.

The fierce strike from the rapier could explode an entire continent with ease, but the blade was completely crushed into countless steel fragments the moment it made contact with Nora’s hammer, sending shockwaves far enough to rupture a nearby volcano, shaking the very earth itself.

Letting the steel fly off, Nora struck Weiss once more with another thunderous strike, right at Weiss’ torso. She floated back, and did not even bother raising her hands to block, and there – her eyes lit up in a blue glint rage.

“You don’t even respect me enough to use your Myrtenaster,” Nora scoffed. “You have no respect for Vacuo. Our King, our Season. You don’t respect Vale, not even Mistral. We’re all just playthings for you. I know how this will play out. I’m going to nip it in the bud.”

Before Nora could strike again, Weiss zipped forward, trillions of times faster than light, and within an instant – grabbed Nora by her throat. Weiss’ hand turned cold the moment she made contact, with ice now forming out from the glyphs that came from her palm, slowly freezing Nora by her skin.

Not giving up, Nora lit herself up with powerful lightning, a thunderous bolt traveling from the deep sky above, five quintillion times the speed of light as Weiss scanned it and dodged out of the way. The lightning strike lit up the entire city in a blinding light, so bright, the concrete of the buildings began to melt from the sheer heat alone.

“Give up,” Weiss shouted. “You cannot defeat me. The only reason this planet isn’t dust right now is because my Aura is protecting it. I will throw you into the sun if anything happens to my home. You will not survive.”

Powering up further and completely ignoring Weiss’ warning, Nora simply yelled:

“Try me!”

Burning from inside her eyes, lightning bolts came forth, shooting so fast, no sound could be heard until several long moments later, as it tried to catch up to the speed, zipping right toward where Weiss floated.

And there, she held out her hands, which were now covered in thick indestructible ice, and instantly the lightning eye beams were reduced to nothingness.

But not before the shockwaves from the blast exploded and shattered several clouds in the distance, roaming across the planet itself. From the smoke of the plasma, the two gods emerged toward one another, flying at speeds fast enough to rip the air apart, ripping mountains from the air pressure as they traveled. Dragging each other up into space as they collided over and over again. Circling each other from all angles, then creating continuous shockwaves piling up one another that shattered the very moon itself.

Seeing this, Weiss’ eyes lit up, as she flew back to the moon, and held her right hand forward. Summoning a powerful glyph fueled by pure gravity to put the shattered moon back together, not leaving a single crack shown on the surface. A mere moment away from the battle, and Nora flew right back in, bringing the both of them back down onto Remnant.

As they were reentering the stratosphere, still clashing against one another, with Nora’s hammer meeting Weiss’ indestructible fists – Weiss spotted a figure emerging from the lower clouds coming up to where the two of them were fighting.

Surprisingly, Cinder Falls had reentered this fight once more. Flying toward them with her divine fire boosting her speed, summoned from the palms of her hands.

What was much more shocking, however, was the fact that the moment Cinder came close enough – she began launching multiple fireballs toward Weiss, attacking her.

Weiss pushed the fireballs off into the distance, letting them explode into nukes as her eyes now focused into a godly silent rage. She never expected Cinder’s loyalty from the beginning, but the fact she decided to attack now was infuriating. And yet, all she could see from Cinder’s expression was a devilish cackle.

Pointing her finger toward a confused Nora, Cinder declared:

“You still owe me combat. But we’ll finish that one another time.”

Reluctantly, Nora refocused her attention back to Weiss. Despite not saying another word, their mutual understanding had now formed into an unlikely alliance. Temporary, but powerful. Enough to shake the ozone layer.

Here the battle raged on. Thunder roaring from heaven.

How did things get to this point? Why were all these people drawn to the Superman? Why was her gravity so powerful?

What is Superman? What is Super? What is Man?

20 years ago…

This young blond child called Jaune walked through the forest all around him, getting himself across the river to the other side where he climbed the rocky grounds, through several bushes to explore deeper and deeper into the green.

This child was unaware of how far he had gone into this unknown place. But he continued to be curious, picking up rocks and sticks along the way, getting lost in his own world. Almost as if he was content to be away from the real world back where he came from. But the boy was not hurt or sad, simply curious. But ultimately woefully unprepared for the wilderness as he attempted to climb over a massive fallen tree before him. Getting about halfway there, he fell back to the ground the moment he grabbed onto a loose branch, thinking it was strong enough for him to pull.

Now covered in dirt, he dusted himself off before looking back up on top of the tree trunk – there, he saw…

Her.

He saw her under shining light. A person he had never seen before.

A young girl with red hair, wearing a golden dress, with emerald eyes shining brighter than gems.

From the moment Jaune laid eyes on the young girl, he was starstruck. Sitting there completely speechless, there was something about her radiance that made it difficult to describe, and even more difficult to act upon, almost as if he was now completely petrified.

The girl smiled and she said to him, smiling:

“Hi there, what’s your name?”

Unable to answer, his eyes blinked on without stop. Prompting the girl to giggle as she descended from the tree, down to the dirt, extending her hand.

“You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

Instinctively taking the girl’s hand to get himself up, Jaune pushed on to work up the courage to speak. But speaking slowly, he stammered:

“Um, w… well, I’m Jaune. My n…name’s Jaune.”

Giggling again, the girl told him:

“Nice to meet you. My name is Winter. Winter Polendina.”

“Winter? You mean… like the…”

“Yeah, like the Season,” she smiled.

Still unsure, and confused, he asked:

“You’re not… you’re not her, are you?”

Laughing, Winter replied:

“No, I’m not actually the Season Winter. My mom and dad said so themselves.”

Turning around to face the tree, she placed her hand on the trunk, saying:

“It’s dangerous to be out here alone, yeah?”

As she finished saying that, she lifted the tree off the ground and instantly tossed it off into the far distance, as if it weighed as much as a small plastic toy, to be chucked into a bin.

“At least – that’s what my parents told me,” she turned back to Jaune, grinning from ear to ear.

Completely flabbergasted, Jaune’s eyes were still glued to the direction where the girl had thrown the tree off to. Far enough away for it to disappear into the bushes, but still close enough for them to still hear the sound of the wood being crushed from the landing.

He looked back at the girl, who looked as ordinary as can be, without any noticeable muscle on her body. But the smile was one of a rambunctious little rascal, one who did not like to stay still. Despite being in that dainty dress, she clearly enjoyed being out here, to be free in this fresh air.

“I live nearby if you want to visit,” she told Jaune. “My parents just moved here. We live near the church not too far from here. You should come over.”

“Really?”

“Totally, it’ll be fun.”

“I… I can’t. I have to get back home soon. My parents are going to flip.”

“Oh, okay. I guess.”

Noticing her smile disappearing, Jaune scrambled for his words:

“But… but we can meet here again, can’t we?”

“Really?” Her eyes lit up.

“Yeah. I… I’m usually out here by myself.”

“Oh, me too. Well, back where I’m from at least. I don’t have any friends.”

“Okay. Great. Yeah…”

“Yeah…”

Grinning for the first time since meeting, Jaune said:

“Will… you be my friend?”

Here, she responded like a star:

“Of course. Let’s meet here again tomorrow.”

“Totally… okay. Yeah. Let’s – let’s.”

That very same year, across the planet on the continent in the North – Pietro Polendina lost his daughter.

Even with all of his scientific genius, knowledge of the human body, knowing many things to know about the chemicals and atoms that made up the very being of those alive – he was powerless when his daughter was taken by a disease.

Deep in his lab, he had been working on this last-ditch attempt to bring her back. Taking the essences inside of her brain, transferring them into code to be stored inside his supercomputer. A surprising seven zettabytes of data from her brain. He did not know why there was that much inside her mind, but he was not really focused on that as he worked.

Instead, lying inside a pod before him was a robotic replica of his daughter’s body. A young girl with bright curly orange hair. Dormant inside, still yet to be awakened. And perhaps, she will sleep forever, impossible to come back as she was before. Because perhaps, what Pietro was working on was not really resurrection, but rather a replacement.

A new creation.

But a robot was a thing, and things could not possibly have souls. Pietro worked for months, tackling the problem from different angles. Looking for books, old files, anything that could give him a tiny sliver of hope. But this was something nobody had ever done before. Something nobody had even attempted.

Except for the Fleet Admiral.

“You can’t do it,” said Maru, standing by the door. “It’s impossible.”

Ignoring the man, Pietro focused on. To which Maru shook his head, saying:

“Even if you succeed, you have no idea if this is really your daughter. You have no idea if you’ve managed to upload her mind perfectly into that new body, or if all you’ve done is merely copied the genetic blueprints of her entire being, down to the subatomic level. That might explain that seven zettabytes.”

“Okay,” Pietro responded. “Anything else?”

“Listen to me. You’re grieving. You can mourn, but this needs to stop. This will kill you.”

“I would gladly die for my daughter. Something you would never understand with those bastard sons of yours you hate so much.”

Maru’s expressionless face remained unchanged. Pietro continued:

“You wanna keep creating new children out of your test tubes? Be my guest. To me – there is only one Penny Polendina.”

“Where is her mind, Pietro?”

“I have it under control.”

“Answer the question. Where – is – her – mind!”

“I said I have it, dammit!” He slammed his fists on the table, crushing the keyboard in front of him. “It’s there on the goddamn hard drive… it… it has to be.”

Walking over to his friend, Maru placed his hand on Pietro’s back, feeling the old man shaking and breaking down on his workstation. Maru now noticed the filthy room he had been staying in. Robotic parts being covered in mountains of papers stained with dark coffee. No food anywhere to be found, which made sense considering how thin Pietro looked.

Shaking his head, the Fleet Admiral then finally said:

“The Team I’ve been working on, the Team I’ve been growing – we’ve picked up signs of Aura.”

Looking up toward Maru, Pietro was dumbfounded, silently doing the math in his head as thousands of other thoughts shot through his mind. Maru continued:

“I can give you all the files and schematics I have. I think you’ll find it useful in improving your own design. But this must be kept secret, at all costs.”

Looking down to the pod where Penny was lying inside, Pietro placed his hand and head on the glass. Feeling the cold metallic sensation being pressed against his skin. The Doctor then finally nodded:

“At any cost.”

30 years before Atlas invaded…

There was an old television show that used to air on Kidstoon, Atlas’ children network, it was a show about a superhero dog wearing black goggles and a leather aviator helmet going on adventures across numerous fantastical places.

It was a simple enough show. Quite popular with the kids, too. All while getting decent ratings during its run.

On the second season of the show, the story introduced a new superhero character to the large cast of the show.

A peculiar character by the name of Jacques Schnee.

“How do you do, children?” said the dog, “It’s gggreat being back. Let’s see what the League of Supers are up to, shall we?”

Back at the Hall of the Just.

Here comes Jacques Schnee, children. The strongest in the league. Tall, muscular, clean white hair, and that powerful mustache. He sure can rock that white super suit, too. So skintight, with that shining diamond emblem on the chest. The white cape is delicious as well, it’s just like mine.

The evil supervillain Alexander is up to no good again. Let us put a stop to his evil scheme this time, my friends. Ravenman, can you get us an intel of Alexander’s whereabouts?

Can do, Jacques. My supercomputer has located his last sightings to be somewhere off the coast of Mistral. We should be able to intercept his next move from there.

Excellent. Let us go there at once.

Now, the team consisted of other superheroes as well, like the incredibly strong warrior woman Golden Gladiator Princess, a strong hero from a race of warrior women, coming from a faraway island isolated from the rest of the world. Her thousands of years of experience proved to be an invaluable asset to the team.

Then there was The Green Ring. One of the most powerful heroes in this fantastical world. One with a ring that could create constructs of anything he could imagine. But what the ring was really capable of was the power of a wishing machine. Immensely powerful, but it was a weapon that ran on willpower. If one did not have such a thing, it would not be effective.

None of them was as unique as the Ravenman, however. Considering he was a normal human being with no superpower of any kind. Instead, his greatest contribution to the League was his incredible strategic mind. Being able to understand science beyond any normal human, as well as having a sharp intuition and adaptational skills. The Ravenman became one of the most important members of the team.

There were several other powerful heroes as well, but these were the strongest of them all.

Arriving at the coast, the League came across a powerful giant robot wreaking havoc across the nearby city. Its giant laser cannons were firing toward the buildings, decimating it to rubble. People scattered and screamed in terror at the sight of this supervillain.

This looks like a job for the League of the Supers. Ravenman, generate for us a civilian rescue route.

Roger that, Mister Schnee. We will need to aid those up high in the buildings first. They are in the most danger.

Green Ring, can you construct for us a safety net to catch the falling civilians?

I’m on it, big man. One giant net, coming right up.

Gladiator Princess and I will engage Alexander and his giant robot. Let’s go!

But before they could even make their move, something from far away descended from the sky. A sudden new face had made an appearance. Showing up here to display powers that were completely identical to Jacques Schnee’s super strength, super speed, and flight. Zipping around to decimate the giant robot and its evil supervillain piloting the machine inside.

Good golly, what is going on?

Oh no, is this who I think it is? After all these years? How is it even possible?

Jacques, what is going on? Do you know this person?

Yeah, and why do they have your powers? Are you two from the same planet?

My friends – I thought I was the last of my kind, but there’s no doubt about it.

The young girl showed her face as the League descended onto the giant hunk of crushed metal, the remnant of the giant robot. The girl stood there with her hands on her hips, letting her white cape flow in the wind as they approached her. Turning around, everybody could now see the resemblance.

Friends, meet – my daughter: Weiss Schnee.

This story was first published in a comic book, drawn by two young immigrant boys traveling to Vale looking for a better life. Here at the heart of the Valley, they began writing their story.

Throwball Hall of famer Bludd Williams, grandfather of throwball legend Rredd Williams, eventually bought the rights to the comics. Using that to go on and become one of the producers for the animated show. Though the show was a success, it was still just a product of its time. So it was not exactly relevant in the modern cultural zeitgeist.

What was kept intact, however, was the first issue of the original comic book run. Still in mint condition, given away as a gift to the mentor of his grandson, a family friend – General of the Air Force Samantha Vulf.

Decades later, the show disappeared. It never existed.

Approximately 5,000 years ago…

A meteor crashed landed on Remnant.

This meteor was actually a corpse. From it, divine energies began leaking out.

This body was heavy, a body of a god. Too heavy for any mortal to lift.

The legendary King Mortimiah came to the crater with fifty strong soldiers with him. Striking the body with his blade, he found that the metal instantly shattered upon contact with the hard skin of the gigantic body. As tall as the tallest men in the lands.

It stood up, revealing the visage of a woman.

She was tall, abnormally so. From here, she stood on her feet, and the mountains in the distance crumbled into dust. Forming massive canyons.

Immediately falling to his knees, King Mortimiah began to pray. But not to this new god who landed on Remnant, but to his own god – the Summer Maiden.

“Protect me, my Lady. May you deal with me, ever so severely, if I lose my faith in you, o’ Summer of War and Hunt.”

And here, the heavens split open. A hand reached down from above, one so large it dwarfed the whole planet. Larger than the galaxy, and still getting larger, now a shadow falling over the universe.

This hand of fire was Summer’s. Immensely powerful, with the space around all bending from the sheer presence of its size.

Here – Summer pointed her finger at the new god down below. Erasing her from existence.

The corpse of the god withered, slowly turning into flakes of dust that flew off into the wind.

She was no more.

And yet…

Approximately 10,000 years ago…

A meteor crashed landed on Remnant.

This meteor was actually a corpse. From it, divine energies began leaking out.

This body was heavy, a body of a god. Too heavy for any mortal to lift.

The legendary King Mortimiah came to the crater with fifty strong soldiers with him. Striking the body with his blade, he found that the metal instantly shattered upon contact with the hard skin of the gigantic body. As tall as the tallest men in the lands.

It stood up, revealing the visage of a woman.

She was tall, abnormally so. From here, she stood on her feet, and the mountains in the distance crumbled into dust. Forming massive canyons.

She flew away, using her massive divine powers to conjure up a white armor with a white cape, flowing in the wind as she hovered in the air.

Inside a human kingdom, an old man was being crushed by a large carriage.

No man surrounding the commotion could help the poor old man.

But here, up in the sky, something that looked like a bird swooped in fast, and getting closer, the people realized that this was a massive god.

She lifted the cart up with ease, rescuing the man from a painful end.

“Thank you, my Lady,” said the man. “Please, let me worship you.”

But she flew off.

And now ice began to fall from the sky. People’s eyes widened, for they had never seen anything like this before in their lives. They had no concept of this falling ice. It was light, and white, cold to the touch.

Immediately falling to his knees, King Mortimiah began to pray. But not to this new god who landed on Remnant, but to his own god – the Summer Maiden.

“Protect me, my Lady. May you deal with me, ever so severely, if I lose my faith in you, o’ Summer of War and Hunt.”

And here, the heavens split open. A hand reached down from above, one so large it dwarfed the whole planet. Larger than the galaxy, and still getting larger, now a shadow falling over the universe.

This hand of fire was Summer’s. Immensely powerful, with the space around all bending from the sheer presence of its size.

Here – Summer pointed her finger at the new god down below. Erasing her from existence.

The god now withered, slowly turning into flakes of dust that flew off into the wind.

She was no more.

And yet…

Approximately 20,000 years ago…

Chapter Text

The battle of the gods continued.

Here Weiss, Nora, and Cinder all zipped around so fast, space continued to further warp around the entire planet. Widening the cracks in the atmosphere that were already there, creating spatial fissures in the air that ruptured all things everywhere at the same time. Uprooting trees, shattering the barks, lifting up heavy stones, burning away lakes and large parts of the oceans alike, all to vaporize them down to their last atoms.

And yet, the speed of the Maidens continued, catching up to Weiss – the Superman.

The faster they got, the faster she also adapted and adjusted. But what was also a big concern was the collateral damage. With Weiss still trying her best to coat the planet in her immense pool of Aura, protecting it from the godly shockwaves. With energies enough to destroy the entire universe ten times over, all contained here on this very planet.

Nora lifted her hammer once more, slamming it straight down toward Weiss, only to see her catch it with her bare hand. Just one right hand, while the other was busy blocking massive fireballs thrown from Cinder, cooling the flame with her overwhelming ice.

Meanwhile…

Back at the camp in the middle of the Forever Falls, the nomads were still in conflict with the Atlesian soldiers. The officers brought forth guns, and the people retaliated with makeshift weaponry of their own. Clubs, lances, farming equipment, and stolen rifles as well as pistols they crafted themselves.

“Get back you animals!” The Atlesian officers shouted. “I’m warning you!”

“I dare you, fucker!”

“I’m warning you!”

“Come get some, you piece of shit.”

“You shitters better get back in line now! I won’t repeat myself.”

“You can’t keep us locked up here.”

“This is unconstitutional.”

“Fuck your constitution.”

“Fuck you fascist pigs!”

“I said get back!”

“You are all traitors! Get back!”

This continued on, blood now began to splatter all over the ground as the soldiers and the nomads started swinging. With the Atlesians striking them with the butt of the rifles, while the nomads retaliated with huge swings of their clubs.

Some soldiers were dragged into the crowd to be beaten to death, while some nomads were executed by the firing squads. And it was here – the officers were given orders to open fire.

The screams got louder and louder, now growing into bloody shrieks of men and women shielding one another from the rain of bullets.

This had happened once before.

Immortalized as a cosmic story that now echoed through all of time and space.

About five years ago, when Atlas invaded the Valley.

When Weiss flew through the sky to puncture the bell tower, Ironwood was down on the ground as the troops marched. Many rebels and Valean soldiers were captured. And among them were civilians as well. Casualty of war, as the reports would say. But here in this moment, wanting to be thorough – Ironwood commanded:

“Execute them all! Every – last – one – of – them!”

The Atlesian Huntsmen and soldiers opened fire on the people of the Valley. Their screams were drowned out by the gunfire, some of which were powerful enough to vaporize them into a puddle of flesh from the force of the Dust plasma. Extremely advanced technology.

This was recorded in greater detail in Ironwood’s recordings he left for Weiss. This was what she was taught in her youth. As well as what many Atlesians were taught. All marks of General Ironwood, one of an iron heart, and an iron fist.

Jaune watched on as the fire of their rage burned stronger and stronger. Here, the rage of the tyrants was clear for all to see.

The nomads began retreating deeper into their camps. Dragging any remaining children back to their mothers and hiding behind the few men left alive. Some of them were still able to hold the Atlesian soldiers back from advancing any further. But the nomads’ numbers were dwindling fast.

There, Jaune saw the rest of the people falling back behind that sword – that Myrtenaster. The one blade that weighed more than an entire mountain.

What Weiss once told him about the spirituality of Aura now began flooding back to Jaune. He still struggled to fully understand what it was she was really talking about, and he still wondered to this day how this was a part of his training. Plenty of other Huntsmen did not have to lift a sword this heavy, and they still turned out to be many of the most powerful men and women on the planet.

He now decided, however, that the idea of training could now no longer take priority. Not while the innocent people were dying.

So Jaune, right there and then, made a decision.

As the last of the tribal men were being slaughtered by the soldiers, and as Atlas itself began advancing deeper into the camp – Jaune stood there in front of the sword on the ground, the sword that no mortal on the planet could lift, with him now being the only one standing between the soldiers and the lives of the nomads.

They shouted:

“KILL THIS ONE!”

The rifles and Dust machine guns unloaded onto Jaune, kicking up a whole storm of dirt as the smoke from the blasts soaked the area into deep destruction. It cratered the very ground itself, which was surprising considering half of the soldiers were also unloading onto the nomads in the back fleeing back to their tents.

But once the smoke cleared, the officers and their lackeys discovered the most shocking thing they had seen all day.

None of the tribesmen were harmed, not one.

And instead, all the damage seemed to have gravitated toward a singular point. The point where Jaune was standing.

And there he stood, barely holding on to life with wounds decorating him from head to toe, forcing blood to paint his entire face. His Aura was flickering intensely, having now powered up to draw in every single bullet fired toward himself.

It devastated his body, dripping blood from his shoulders all the way down to his legs, with all of his limbs now barely holding onto their skeletal sockets. Chunks of flesh blasted everywhere despite him trying his best to coat his body in defensive Aura. But he was weak and inexperienced, so it could only deflect so much damage.

Despite the excruciating pain and blood being forced out of his throat – Jaune felt incredibly potent Aura coursing through his veins, in a powerful manner he had never felt before in his life. Like an endless well of water that went forever, deeper into the earth without limit.

“FIRE AGAIN!” The commanding Atlesian officers cried.

Thus, they opened fire once more, this time doing their best to make sure they were aiming away from the young man and deeper into the crowd of the nomads. Unloading not only the machine guns, but also heavier caliber missiles and grenades this time around.

And yet…

By this unexpected power – all the projectiles kept getting diverted elsewhere, focusing on a single point – right exactly where the young man still stood. Miraculously still on his feet, now blood oozing out of his body like multiple fountains. His shoulders now both dislocated, one eye was sealed shut from the bruises, the other could barely see from the blood flooding his face still.

The officers and soldiers were dumbfounded. Not even some of the strongest soldiers among them could still be standing after that whole barrage. Perhaps a Huntsman of some kind, but a young man? And a student no less.

And here, Jaune performed the most extraordinary feat yet – he folded his arms.

Letting the Aura pour out of his body and forcing the broken bones back into its place. Jaune stood back as tall as before. Still defiant and determined.

Under the young man’s breath, beaten to a pulp, now barely audible to anybody, he then uttered a single word:

“Weiss…”

From thousands of miles away across on the other side of the planet where the gods continued to clash, Weiss heard Jaune’s voice in the middle of the chaos that filled her ears. She had no idea why it was his voice she was able to hear. Despite the thousands of screams from the rioters, the explosion of the bombs, the artillery, the tanks approaching Vacuo, and yet – she still heard Jaune’s voice.

Immediately turning her back against Nora and Cinder, Weiss flew off into the distance, back to Vale.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Nora shouted as lightning exploded out of her eyes, blasting toward where Weiss was flying.

And surprisingly, the divine lightning was able to catch up to Weiss’ ludicrous flying speed, knocking her out of the sky to then give Cinder enough time to build up a powerful fireball to toss toward the Superman. The fire came down, as big as a mountain, and there the explosion engulfed the land to a distance equivalent to an entire island, erupting like a nuclear bomb detonating at the heart of a furious volcano.

At the center of the blast, Weiss remained unharmed – covered from head to toe with her powerful defensive Aura. She continued to fly away.

But Nora and Cinder were fast, as they flew down trillions of times faster than light, they continued to strike at Weiss. With Nora letting the weight of her hammer down with divine anger. But once again, they were all blocked and dodged as Weiss skillfully evaded Cinder’s fiery glass arrows all at the same time.

Now Weiss ignored the two of them again, flying further into the heart of the Valley.

Here she arrived, approaching the ground with such vigor that it shook the earth the nomads and the soldiers were standing on. The other two Maidens followed her shortly behind, arriving as they now saw a crowd of people in this large camp split into two sides.

On one side, being the soldiers, still holding tightly onto their rifles and weapons, but now with the fear of gods struck into their eyes as they witnessed the Superman floating here, above them.

On the other side, were the Kaisar tribesmen, standing in awe of not only the divine powers of three godly beings gracing them with their overwhelming presence, but they were also in shock at the young man who was still standing up straight – in front of Myrtenaster.

He stood there, refusing to collapse, as his breathing now slowed almost to a stop. His pupils were white and blank, and from here – Weiss could barely hear his heartbeat. And yet, he still stood there, like a statue. Perhaps unknowingly using the power of his Aura to force himself to stand on his shattered two legs, bleeding profusely and crushed into red flesh. His arms were still folded, and upon closer inspection, Weiss noticed that Jaune had bitten his own tongue, most likely to numb the pain of the countless bullets he had to take.

Floating over to him, Weiss laid her hands on the young man, and here in her powerful embrace – Jaune could finally subconsciously let go and fall deep into her grip, letting his own blood paint Weiss’ white uniform, smearing it from his face, his arms.

She held Jaune closer to her, hugging him tight as a wave of emotions washed over her, emotions she was desperately trying to keep hidden, hunching over, letting the shadows fall over her face. The godly Aura around her, however, continued to rise and rise with everybody now feeling this very hidden anger. But it was anger accompanied by something else, perhaps anguish, or even regret.

She laid him down on the ground, before placing her hand on his chest, suddenly feeling a light beating of his heart. It was faint, but it was enough for her to then say to him solemnly:

“I’m sorry, Jaune. I’m so sorry.”

Letting her own Aura fill Jaune up from head to toe, the healing power of her energies was enough to bring Jaune back from the brink of death. He was breathing once again, and his heart was now stable. Still in a coma, with many of his wounds still not yet closed. Because Weiss’ attention was focused elsewhere, concentrating her anger toward everything around her.

“You,” she pointed her finger at two of her soldiers, “take this young man away, he needs medical attention.”

“Y… yes. Right away, Chancellor.”

The two men saluted her, and immediately dragged him away, placing him on a stretcher and disappearing into the crowd of soldiers.

Then, turning back to the crowd, her blue eyes now shining with cold rage, with an expression powerful enough to shatter boulders. She floated upward, just before extending her hand to her blade Myrtenaster and pulling it out of the ground using her immense gravitational field. The rapier flew right into the palm of her hand like a thunderous shout, shaking the very earth as it left the soil and launched off the dirt into her grip.

Here, she declared out loud for everyone to hear:

“Execute them! Every – last – one – of – them!”

Here, the same tragedy of years long ago echoed once again as the Atlesians opened fire onto the crowd of people. Slaughtering the nomads in seconds. Everywhere, all around, for miles, all that could be heard was the blood-curdling screams of the people being torn apart by the Empire’s powerful machines and rifles. Melting their flesh and bones into piles upon piles as the corpses fell on top of each other.

Staring back at Nora and Cinder, Weiss’ eyes shined brightly with a rageful blue Aura, sparkling like icy diamonds.

This cold look was unsettling to both the Maidens, even in Cinder’s insanity, she was unnerved by Weiss’ invincibility. On the other hand, what Nora was most concerned about was the overwhelming strength of the Superman. The nomads were not her people, but Nora still clenched her fists in desperate anger, for she knew that if Weiss had her way, the Vacuans would be crushed under her heels just the same.

The three of them flew toward one another once more, now the battle of the gods continued.

Universe 2…

Glynda and Rubio fought in the middle of the burning rubble of Beacon. Mountains of corpses of Huntsmen and students all around, painting the pavement and white stones into something more impure, something more primordial. The violence of man.

The scythe and the sword had slashed at each other for hours now, and the rage of the steel continued to rise as the towers kept on collapsing all around. Ozymandias’ troops were now beginning to expand beyond the confines of the school, out into neighboring areas, now that the vast majority of this universe’s Beacon troops had been neutralized.

Rubio zipped behind Glynda using his ludicrous speed, only to then find the woman’s body was protected by not only her Aura, but also another layer of Telekinesis passively protecting her on top of that as well. Her Semblance was absolute madness, with how much it was able to protect her in a 360-degree radius, leaving essentially no blind spot to strike against.

Using this opportunity to catch Rubio using her overwhelming gravity, she pulled him close, ready to strike, only for Rubio to zip away into the distance once more, too fast for her to pin him down for good.

“This stalemate is getting dull,” Glynda shouted. “Give up. The God King’s army is going to continue to spread, and there’s nothing you can do about it. All I have to do is keep you busy here, and you’ll lose.”

“What’s your endgame here, General?” Rubio asked. “Why go through the trouble of invading another universe?”

“There are things that go back further than you can imagine,” Glynda explained. “Further than even I am aware. In the days of ancient scripture itself. In ages of myth, legends, stories scattered through time. The God King’s plan had been in motion since before you and I were even born.”

“Don’t you go all high and mighty with me!”

Shaking her head, Glynda continued:

“Regardless, both the God King and I know one thing, the Superman is indeed stronger than both of these universes combined. She might even be older than our Lord God Ozymandias himself, as hard to believe as that sounds. If he were to fight her head-on, he would likely lose. He truly has no physical defenses. So we must resort to magick.”

“You’re talking about Oz’s illusions?”

Glynda chuckled:

“Illusionary magick is far beyond what you understand it to be. It isn’t merely about deception. It’s about perception, not a singular person’s perception, but everyone’s perception of reality. Ozymandias has the power to change that very concept. If everything in the universe changes their perception of an apple, to see it as an orange, then by all accounts, that apple has changed completely on a subatomic level. The apple no longer exists. Do you understand?”

“Are you seriously suggesting Oz has the ability to warp reality itself?”

Now bursting out into laughter, Glynda could no longer contain herself, and instead, she held her sword and pointed it straight into the heavens, splitting the very clouds themselves with her gravity.

“The God King can do godly things beyond what you can imagine, you traitorous imbecile! Behold, the power of King Ozymandias obscured from you after all this time!”

As the clouds cleared, Rubio glanced up high, shocked to see something he had no answers for. Something he never expected, despite his future vision. He could offer no explanation except be in awe of what was coming down onto Remnant:

A gigantic burning hand. Coming down to this very planet.

Larger than the moon, larger than Remnant, and larger than the sun itself, growing even larger by the moment. And upon closer inspection, Rubio could see inside this cosmic hand that it was made out of tiny galaxies, galaxies that slowly formed into larger universes, countless of them. This thing’s size was truly incomprehensible, too big to be contained.

“But… how?” Rubio stood there, “How did I not see this coming?”

“The God King’s illusionary magick is strong. Stronger than your eyes.”

“But how?”

“Did you forget?” Glynda smirked, “King Oz has future visions as well.”

Far up in the Headmaster’s tower, Ozymandias stood out on his balcony, here he began to cackle. A laugh so strong, that Mt. Glenn exploded the moment the sound of his voice traveled far and made contact with the stone.

In the palm of his hands, he held his green prophetic flames.

With the power of ancient pasts, powered by the divinity of Giants, as well as something else much more sinister – Ozymandias launched his green flame into space, forming a gigantic pillar of fire that spread as wide as the entire tower he was standing on, reaching so far up, it blasted straight into the palm of the burning giant hand, still coming down onto Remnant.

What Rubio began to notice, however, was that the green fire did not seem to be attacking the giant burning holy hand. No, instead, the green prophetic flame seemed to be drawing in the hand. Acting as a beacon of sort, allowing the hand to track Ozymandias’ current location.

“Don’t you recognize that hand, Rubio my boy?” Ozymandias’ cackles echoed to Rubio’s ears.

Surprised, he continued staring at the hand, now empowered by his Silver Eyes. He stared deeper into the red fires of the palm. Looking past the galaxies and stars making up the holy flesh, he was then shocked to see a warm light from within, a light he could hardly describe, and one he found difficult to fully make out the details of. Shining subtly behind the raging divine fire, here Rubio heard a sound he was all too familiar with.

A heartbeat.

“Is… is that…”

“That’s right,” said Glynda.

Staring at the burning hand, Rubio finally recognized:

“Mother?”

The prophecy of the stone had now commenced.

Universe 1938…

Weiss, Nora, and Cinder too had now begun to notice something strange in the sky. Coming from far above in the deep space far beyond. Something that came out of nowhere, almost as if it were intentionally obscured just mere moments before being revealed, like a magic trick.

Larger than the moon, larger than Remnant, and larger than the sun itself, growing even larger by the moment.

A gigantic burning hand. Coming down to this very planet.

“What on earth is that?” Cinder growled.

“How is this possible?” Nora looked in awe.

While Weiss remained silent, but feeling the anxiety washing over her now, as she struggled to understand how it was that a thing so massive could have been hidden from her powerful super vision.

Nora turned to Weiss in an instant, pointing her hammer at the Superman.

“Is this your doing?” She glared in rage. “Your immense gravity must be inviting this monstrosity. There is no other explanation.”

“You really think I would have so little discipline to allow such a thing to happen?” Weiss asked, clenching her fists.

“No point in standing around speculating now, is there?” Cinder’s grin appeared on her face once more, with her now conjuring up another fireball in her hand. “If this really is all because of her, then let’s kill her and find out.”

Not wasting another moment, Cinder tossed the fireball at Weiss, only for Weiss to instantly block it with her rapier, tossing it in the distance for it to explode to the size of an island.

Not knowing what else to do, Nora decided to not let this distract from the fight, thus she summoned another lightning bolt and launched it at Weiss, resuming the battle once more.

Weiss herself, however, was not in the mood.

But it did not seem like she had a choice.

Universe 2…

“Why are you doing this?” Rubio shouted. “Why would you destroy an alternate universe full of innocent people? Are you people mad?”

He struck Glynda once more, as he finished his sentence. Letting his heavy scythe fall on her sword before firing a massive sniper round off to launch himself off, creating distance between the two of them once again.

“Oh, Son of Summer,” Ozymandias’ voice echoed once more, “how you know so little.”

Glynda also continued to laugh, explaining:

“The King knows Weiss is too strong for him, so we hide here, temporarily, so that Weiss cannot physically touch him. But you must know, Summer’s burning hand is not here to destroy a single universe. The hand is divine judgment, judging against Zoz from ancient times. That hand is here to destroy every universe everywhere.”

“WHAT?”

“Yes, Son of Summer,” Ozymandias cackled. “Your mother is delivering judgment unto me for my sins. If that sentence is to carry out, then let her judgment destroy everything else as well. Including the universe the Atlesian Superman resides in.”

“You’re mad!”

“I have put illusions of myself in every possible alternate reality,” Oz continued. “The hand will track my positions, and in the end, engulf everything in fire.”

“No, you can’t!” Rubio cried.

“It’s too late, it can’t be stopped! The prophecy cannot be stopped! Destiny comes, all will burn in divine fire. Die, Son of Summer!”

The hand grew larger and larger, brighter into a crimson fiery hue. Now shining too bright for mortals to even see properly.

Prophecy cometh.

Chapter Text

Universe 1938…

Far off into the distance on the land of Menagerie, now known as New Eden as its new Kingdomic name. Adamantine, son of Belladonna, stepped foot out onto the grassy land to look into the sky. Here, he witnessed destruction coming down onto his beloved homeland.

The burning godly hand was too big for anybody on this planet to handle, and he knew that all too well. He still felt his blood boiling, his power rising with every passing second. But the divine was still far from him. Adamantine was a chosen, but still mortal.

The palm of Summer was big. Adamantine did not know why or how he knew that this was Summer. But her essence made herself evident to all things down below. Sooner or later, the cosmic knowledge will emanate down.

From the fire of her hand came a huge burning meteor.

Easily the size of the entirety of New Eden. Perhaps even larger.

Now coming down straight onto this floating island. Unconcerned of the panicking people down below, running for their lives away into their homes, off into caves, or even underwater in lakes and rivers. The priests and other men of the churches were seen praying out on the green pastures. On their knees, prostrating themselves, not toward the flaming hand, nor Summer herself. But rather, their faith was all renewed in their King – Auric.

Here, Adamantine saw the faith of his people, and he himself was now relieved. For he was no longer worried about being alone, to be the only one who had faith in Auric’s Kingdom of Eden.

With this, his Aura was now empowered. And here, putting every last ounce of that power into his sword – Adamantine ripped the blade right out of his sheath, and sliced his heavy energy right toward the gigantic burning meteor.

The moment lasted for a long second – before everybody could finally see there up high in the sky:

That the Aura slice from his sword had completely cut clean through the meteor. A perfect cut, getting between two perfectly flat surfaces that now separated from one another.

Not too long ago, the most Adam could cut was a train while at his most powerful. While impressive, it was nothing in comparison to what Adamantine could now do without breaking a sweat. Blood of steel boiling in his veins, roaring of a distant memory of an ancient people, now slowly coming back to life through nothing but faith alone.

From that slice, cracks then began to form on the surface of the two halves of the meteor. First crawling slowly, then within a few seconds later it was seen spreading quickly, not stopping until every nook and cranny was fractured violently. Before long, the meteor was completely consumed by the thick Aura of the Unbreakable Faunus. Consuming the stone and the flames, and in the end – evaporating the meteor down to the very molecular level.

New Eden was safe.

But Adamantine knew it was not over.

He knew Summer still posed a threat to this entire world, and further beyond. So begrudgingly, he recognized that there was only one person on this planet who was capable of stopping this Season of War.

And so Adamantine sheathed his sword, and walked back inside.

Praying to King Auric.

The war raged on, despite the end of the world here knocking on everyone’s front door.

In fact, this was exactly the reason why Summer’s hand had managed to grow so big. The war was the very thing fueling her. The God of the Hunt and War.

Far off on the island of Patch, where an Atlesian military base was established. Ghost, Oliver, and Lisa rushed out of their tent to witness the gargantuan apocalypse approaching.

“What on earth is that?”

Similarly, far in the East, Sienna and Tyrian also rushed out of the church they were in to glance up into the same sky, bearing witness as well to the flames of War.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Sienna asked. “This is… impossible.”

Tyrian’s face was stoic, difficult to read.

Riots back in the Valley still burned with fiery confusion, as the people consumed in their rage were now also beginning to notice the sky turning red with every passing second. They still looted, smashed, and shouted, but now any person left who still had their sanity was dropping their weapons to rush back to safety. Others who were more bold and cavalier continued the looting, of course. In their eyes, if they were going to die anyway, then nothing really mattered anymore.

But the battle cries of the Valeans were all quickly subdued as the Atlesian were still out there carrying out the order of their Chancellor. Here on the street, with their energy rifles, opening fire on the people to execute them, down to the last ones as they were told.

The cries of the people did not escape Weiss’ ears, of course. But her anger was putting all of that aside. As the world continued to break apart with holes in the atmosphere that kept on breaking and breaking and breaking despite being protected by Weiss’ own Aura.

“This is madness,” Nora cried, clenching tightly onto her hammer, “I must return to my Kingdom. To gather strength and obliterate this Summer judgment.”

Weiss remained silent as Nora turned to face her.

“This is not over.”

And with that, Nora flew off, trillions of times the speed of light, shattering the very air in her crackling lightning trails, leaving Cinder behind with Weiss.

Here, Cinder still cackled.

“Welp, more for me. If we’re all going to die regardless, then come on, O’ Great High Chancellor, let’s go all out! Let us die together. I want to see what you’re really capable of.”

But to her complete shock, before Cinder could even react, Weiss had already reappeared behind her, floating as Cinder’s limbs began to go numb. The joints in her body were completely immobile, refusing to move as she willed them.

Which was just baffling considering how she fully expected her Aura’s healing power to kick in and repair any damage.

But in the end – nothing.

Weiss’ grip was completely around Cinder’s neck now, grabbing her from behind, lifting her up against her will.

“What… what did you do? You bitch!” Cinder’s confident expression had completely disappeared in a split second. Now unable to even reach up and claw Weiss’ grip from her neck.

“I’ve targeted several of your pressure points,” Weiss said bluntly. “You’ll recover, a Maiden’s Aura is infinite. But I’ll be taking a good amount of it before I leave.”

And so, the gravity of Weiss’ Aura was now beginning to consume Cinder’s Aura reserve, absorbing it so much the sky crackled from the sheer density of a Maiden’s power. Cinder, however, was beginning to feel her strength leave her body, and in this state of complete helplessness, she felt great humiliation as she now witnessed the gap in power between someone like her and a Superman. It was absurd, and incomprehensible that divine powers could not match the strength of this one being.

And yet, here they were, with Cinder nearly drained of all her Aura, and there was nothing she could do about it.

“I’ll deal with you later.”

With those final words, Weiss tossed Cinder into the distance, launching her right back to her home Kingdom of Mistral. The weight of a Maiden’s body was heavy, leaving a huge crater the size of a small city where she landed. But now, Weiss’ concern was aimed elsewhere.

Back on the land in the West, Nora arrived at a scene of chaos where the people scattered upon the sight of the gigantic hand of doom in the sky. Many people, however, fell onto their faces worshipping Nora the moment she landed, as in their eyes, she was their last hope for salvation. They revered the other Seasons, sure, but they feared judgment from a Season not their own. So they would only seek protection from the one they worshipped most reverently.

Sun and Neptune ran out to meet Nora in the street. Having seemingly recovered from most of their wounds, they were ready to fight. Even though they were completely baffled by the sheer size of what they were staring at. They were prepared to fight and give it their all, despite their legs shaking and their foreheads sweating.

“My Lady,” Sun shouted, “what should we do? Should we evacuate?”

Looking around the scene briefly, Nora quickly responded:

“No. There’s nowhere to run. That hand is the size of this universe, likely even larger. If it hits, we are all going to die.”

Back on Patch, Ghost and Oliver stood before the burning hand. Now witnessing the sky turning red, burning of the divine fire.

“You know the Fleet Admiral isn’t here,” said Oliver. “I don’t know about this.”

“We have no choice, soldier,” Ghost instantly responded, but Oliver could clearly see that he was shaken. Something he could hide pretty well from other people, but not his friend, Oliver.

“You have something say,” Oliver placed his hand on Ghost’s shoulder. “Say it.”

Turning to him, a brother, Ghost’s stoic face softened. And for a moment, his uncanny resemblance to the Fleet Admiral’s own cold expression disappeared into something that was his own. Something new, and a little unfamiliar.

“Colonel,” Ghost said, looking back to Lisa as well, “both of you, if we perish today, I need the two of you to know – it has been an honor fighting beside you.”

Lisa and Oliver smiled, with Oliver’s own expression now growing into a chuckle, putting his arm over Ghost’s shoulder and pulling him close.

“You talk too much, brother,” Oliver laughed.

“You two are adorable,” Lisa joined in, hugging them both. “You should both kiss.”

“Ha, gross,” Oliver smiled. “No chance.”

And here, two of the strongest mortals on the entire planet powered up their Aura to their maximum potential, surpassing any limit they may have had before. Because they were now fighting as if they had nothing left to lose. They would not rely on the power of the Superman, expecting her to just come in and save the day.

Because that was not what an Atlesian was supposed to do.

The Aura of these two men easily shattered the sound barrier itself, letting everyone around the area know of the presence of their power.

Electricity now began to cover Ghost from head to toe, while massive gusts of wind surrounded Oliver like a tornado being drawn into a singularity. The power of wind and lightning, crackling as a thunderstorm.

Lisa Rhed now joined in as well, knowing full well she did not have the raw power of the other two. So here, the fire that made up the majority of her Aura, she instead transferred them to her two teammates. Holding out her hands, and letting the ethereal energy power them up even further, burning the very air itself with how dense her Aura really was.

Oliver and Ghost glanced behind them, nodding their heads, before Ghost looked over to his partner, knowing exactly what he was about to do.

“Ready?” Oliver asked, lowering his stance, getting on one knee.

Nodding his head, and instantly, the sound of thunder struck, as blue lightning erupted from Ghost’s body. And there:

Oliver jumped off the ground, shattering the earth beneath him where he just stood.

Like a missile launching into the sky, but except here, this projectile was more powerful than any artificial missile or hydrogen bomb modern technology could produce. As many Atlesians knew of Oliver’s insane strength, the strength that made people wonder when he would take up the mantle as another Superman.

Synchronizing with Oliver high in the air, Ghost gathered up all the flaming electricity in his body, down to the very last ounce he possessed, and immediately released it up into the cyclone Oliver had just created from his single jump, empowering his teammate to an unfathomable degree.

So much so that this power might actually be enough to bring harm to a Maiden.

Such a thought was not on Oliver’s mind at this very moment, however, as all he really could think about now were empty thoughts of emotions he had no real explanation for. The man had never been as analytical as his teammate. But this emptiness was also a kind of discipline that let him power through the biggest of challenges. Even if he were to face death itself, facing the fire of Fate, Destiny, the flame of the inevitable.

Even in this place, he would not back down.

Wearing a faint smile on his face, Oliver gathered up all the wind in his body, combining it with the lightning and fire provided by his teammates, Oliver launched every last ounce of this destructive energy off into the far sky where the burning divine hand kept approaching.

The power of their Aura combined formed into a massive ball, as big as an entire tank. With that much energy condensed down into such a tiny ball of power, it was only a matter of a few seconds later before the wind, fire, and lightning erupted into an explosion that could be heard from miles away.

The wind shattered the sound barrier, blowing everything below into the distance, shattering stones, uprooting massive blocks of earth, with the malice of the lightning striking and scorching anything it could touch. Knocking many soldiers off their feet and blowing numerous tents far off into the sandy distance.

The tanks themselves could not even keep themselves grounded as they were picked up by the wind like a simple child’s toy, tossed away like paper. Crashing violently into the other airships and jeeps lined up far away, even crushing some of the soldiers who were unfortunate enough to be caught in the path of destruction.

Looking up into the sky, as both Lisa and Ghost were now drained of their power, they stared as Oliver’s lifeless body began falling from the sky, now suffering from several burn marks all over his body. They both stared in horror, not only at their friend, but also at the far deep sky where the smoke began to clear.

Staring at the fiery divine hand of Summer that was completely unharmed.

Still getting bigger.

Within the next few seconds, Oliver came crashing down onto the ground, letting the crushing sound of the stone and earth erupt into a loud roar of power. Ghost and Lisa gathered around the massive crater that had just formed around Oliver’s body. They came and immediately touched the side of his neck trying to find a pulse.

To their relief – he was still alive. Unconscious, and bursting with violent heat and residual energy, but still breathing.

Back on their homeland of Atlas, far in the distance, massive cannons began to arm themselves.

“General Stone, come in. Requesting permission to launch.”

The soldiers all scrambled around in this room, working diligently with the machines and computers as they all focused their attention on the giant screen in the front of the room.

General Stone’s face appeared on an intercom of one of the control panels, his face being broadcasted by a hologram. He answered one of the commanding officers:

“Do it. For the glory of Atlas.”

And there, two officers twisted their keys, turning them decisively to open up a panel with two buttons located on top of a keypad. The two commanders entered in their secret combination that the two of them had just generated a mere few minutes ago, and so – the buttons shined a powerful red glow.

Turning their heads to face Councilman Sleet, they watched as he nodded his head, saying in a soft voice:

“Gentlemen – thank you for your service to our Empire. It has been a privilege.”

And so, the two of them pressed the buttons.

The massive cannons of Atlas now fired off into the sky, here, gigantic missiles the size of multiple buildings launched off into the sky and off into where the massive burning hand was. The missiles managed to reach supersonic speeds within a mere few seconds. And before long, it was already approaching the stratosphere of the planet, and within arm’s reach of Summer’s burning hand.

Instantly, the hydrogen bombs detonated, exploding with enough power to split Remnant in half.

From the ground level, Ghost, Lisa, and a now conscious Oliver could witness this unfolding, as the trails of missile smoke from their homeland in the North were evident for the three of them to see. Here, Ghost helped his friend back on his feet, giving him the last remaining sliver of his Aura to heal any of Oliver’s wounds, just barely enough for him to walk.

The explosion in the sky was massive, one that created a storm that rivaled even the blast the three of them managed to create mere moments ago. Once again, blasting off shockwaves that shook the very earth far below despite the massive distance between the ground and the hand in the sky.

Many of the soldiers who were unlucky enough to be caught without their Aura protecting them were completely vaporized by the power of atomic in the sky. Reduced down to nothing but flesh, then bones, then smaller cells, stained by blood, and then finally atomized.

But once again…

When the smoke cleared, the divine judgment of Summer far in the sky continued on its course, being completely unharmed by the blast of man.

“Whoa… Neptune, did you see that?” Sun tapped on his friend’s shoulder.

“Yeah… the Atlesians aren’t playing around.”

“Come on. Let’s hurry. We should pray now.”

Floating before her people, Nora looked around, announcing to everyone:

“Please, all of you. Pray with me.”

The crowd grew larger and larger. There, before the people of the West, emerged the King himself, Theodore of Vacuo, walking along with his royal guards. Now wearing what seemed to be a hunter’s suit – an ordinary dark blue coat over a yellow shirt underneath. He wore strong black boots that had been stained with sand from walking for miles. And his yellow scarf blew in the wind, also full of dirt and debris getting stuck within the fabric.

He carried with him a large rifle, which he could only now lay down onto the dirt as he, the King who coronated the Maiden of Vacuo, got on one knee and bowed his head – joining the crowd in prayer.

So here, even a mad man like King Theodore, had come together with his people in a moment of serene grace.

Nora, still floating high above, she nodded her head, saying:

“Thank you, my King. Let us begin.”

And so, this was their prayer:

“Praise be to you, Spring of Dream,

The Season of Vacuo, the Dream of Vacuo,

From beginning to everlasting,

Yours, is the power beyond comprehension,

Hope for a dying people in a dry land with nothing and nothing,

And yet you still bless us with hope and Dream,

Dream of a Spring we cannot imagine, but a Spring that we all await in your time,

Who are we that we should be able to receive so graciously?

Who am I that I should be able to receive this power? This gift?

I am but a worthless mortal, made a god, for your glory,

So I humbly pray to you, along with my people here in this Kingdom of the West,

Grant us your grace and mercy, as fiery judgment comes before us,

Judgment from the wrath of Summer.

My Lady Spring, we pray that you may keep us all safe from this fire,

So that we may still continue to worship you, humble and small as we are.

Praise be to you, Spring of Dream, in your name,

We dedicate this prayer to the Dream that will carry us into heavenly glory,

Amen.”

And immediately…

The ground shook with the sheer force of Nora’s lightning, now empowering her entire body, and rejuvenating her from the battle against Weiss earlier in the day. The Aura from the crowd felt weaker somehow, people were losing their own strength, but that was when they began to realize that their own power had somehow been transferred over to their Spring Maiden Nora.

And now, Nora possessed enough power to conquer the galaxies’ suns.

With the heat of lightning so strong, she was fighting with every ounce of her being to stop it from melting her people all around her. They saw the glory and yet danger of her power, so many fled off into the distance, back into their homes once more, sheltering from this holiness. Theodore himself, of course, did not budge, for mad as he was, he had grown to see Nora’s worth, as the earnest worthy true Maiden of the West.

He once said he venerated Summer above all the others, despite Vacuo’s tradition of Spring. But now, being judged by the fiery hand above, was he a hypocrite?

Perhaps so, but to him, nothing mattered more than the glory and safety of Vacuo, not even his own morals.

“Lady Spring,” he said, nodding his head, “please save us all, I beg of thee.”

Hearing those extra words, Nora could now feel the glory of the West coursing through her veins as she now focused her lightning powers down into a singular point on her body – all concentrated inside her eyes.

This power, now so dense, full of destructive divine energy – could now all be released.

Releasing out into the deep sky with a loud burst that shook all of Remnant itself, with a loud explosion that could be heard from the other side of the planet. Now all blasting off into the heaven above as the lightning from Nora’s eyes traveled faster than she had ever gone in her life, easily decillions of times the speed of light, and as it grew in power, it was only getting massively faster by the second.

The power of a Maiden was large, with a pool of magical Aura that lasted for minutes as this divine lightning left Nora’s body and struck at the fiery palm of Summer. Simultaneously increasing in size just as the fire of judgment also increased to counter.

Now the entire planet was covered in the blue light of Nora’s electricity, shocking the very surface itself with the tremors of her earth power, as Nora tried to use the Spring’s affinity toward the ground to protect Remnant from the harm of gods so massive, they could crush this planet like stepping on a bug.

And for the first time, the divine power here…

Seemed to actually be a challenge to Summer’s judgment.

Weiss looked up into the sky, staring at the electrical energy clashing against the fire that was trying to consume the world.

Here she wondered to herself:

“Why… why does my presence invite cosmic challenge?”

From the farmland far, far away.

Red stood at that house at the edge of a place far Beyond. The old legacy of Red echoed on. Shining a bright light of something strong, like a metal crafted from diamonds.

Leaning in close, Red said to Weiss:

“You are the Winter Maiden, are you not?”

To that, Weiss stared onward, answering:

“I do not know.”

Red continued:

“You are Atlas, are you not?”

This time, Weiss replied:

“Yes, but for how long? Will I be here forever?”

Still not finished, Red asked once more:

“You have the Story of the Superman with you, do you not?”

Weiss answered:

“Why am I Superman? Why am I Super? What is Man? I am woman, am I not? Was I always meant to be like this?”

Here, Red told her:

“You know… I asked myself that very same question long ago, when I was in battle.”

Briefly looking away into the distance, then immediately looking back, Red said:

“Like you, I remained a woman. Never changed. But the title, our cosmic power…”

But then, Weiss asked another question:

“I can fight the threats of today, but what if they grow stronger tomorrow? What if they grow too strong for me to handle? I have not faced one I could not handle, not yet anyway. But am I to just let the threats grow to that point? Your legacy was supposed to prevent that. Your death was supposed to save us all.”

“Then you do not understand what it was I did for you,” said Red, crossing her arms. “It’s true that my sacrifice was made to save people like you from the Destined Fate of tragic death, all for the people who take up the mantle. But it cannot eliminate all threats and conflicts altogether. A fundamental form of that adversary is gone, but it will return, as it is cosmic canon. Not the same as before, perhaps not even as strong as before, but it will be back.”

“Then why… what is the point of this legacy?”

To that, Red smiled faintly:

“Hope.”

The lightning of the Maiden of Spring roared like a lion, tearing into the dense fire of Summer. But two divine energies clashing meant great destruction for all mortals down below. As pieces of the stars and the cosmos began to fall out of the sky.

Holy meteors raining down to destroy anything it could touch. Many fires consumed the ice in the North, many more landed on the Western land, scorching the sand with alien fires. And then Mistral itself would bear witness to a fire not from their queen, but a foreign hostile force, tearing down buildings, digging holes in the mountains, vaporizing rivers.

And yet, the lightning continued to crackle violently against the fire. With Nora’s eyes starting to bleed, forming scorch marks that were spreading across her face from the force of the dense plasma. Heat so strong, it was vaporizing pockets of air all around.

The cracks in the atmosphere that had been spreading across the planet long ago, now continued to widen with the power of the Maiden clashing against the pure essence of the Summer of War.

And that was really the crux of the problem. Summer was War. And the more the people down below opposed her, the more powerful she grew to be. And that was already on top of the power boost from the riots and the numerous battles across the West.

So slowly, and surely…

Nora began to run out of energy.

The lightning was now weakening. Not being able to take the pain any longer, she relented against the heavy palm in that fire in heaven. Now collapsed on the ground, face down onto the dirt as blood painted her cheeks, oozing onto the sand to now let the crimson grains shine of the frustrated pain of an entire people.

“Dammit!” She cried, grabbing onto the grains of sand in the palms of her hands, trembling as her godly Aura struggled to recover itself. Now completely drained, even after taking in all the prayers of the Vacuans.

“No…” Sun murmured, now unsure of what to do.

Neptune stood behind him, remaining speechless. While King Theodore looked on in silent horror, clenching his fist, not out of anger toward Nora, but instead, feeling the helplessness within himself. For he was still King of the West, but one that could do nothing but watch as the giant burning hand continued its course down onto Remnant, bringing doom to all the peoples of this planet.

Nora was already among the strongest in all of Remnant. And yet, even she could not stop the overwhelming power of the Summer Season.

But of course…

Nora was only the second strongest.