Hello everyone, Rosesaiyan2 here! Hopefully, you guys enjoyed the last chapter somewhat. We're finally going to be introduced to the main cast this chapter so things should be a bit clearer.
As for future villains... most will be original characters, but.... they'll be based on the demons from Fairy tail. I'm undecided if I should incorporate the Evil or Fallen Stars from Saint Seiya... it is possible I'm just not sure yet. The combative abilities of the main cast will be sort of a combination between magic from Fairy tail and Cosmos from Saint Seiya. Most will be based on Saint Seiya Omega.
I don't own Saint Seiya Omega, Fairy Tail, or Rwby and their characters. Those belong to their respective creators, I only own the oc's who appear in this story.
Chapter Two
Ruby Rose and the Eve of Initiation
A city is not so different from a person. It shows you what it wants you to see first. What it hides is always the more interesting part.
I. Vale, Three Months After Arrival
Three months is not a long time by most measures. It is long enough, however, to stop flinching at unfamiliar sounds, to begin navigating by instinct rather than deliberate memory, and to learn which bakeries open earliest and which streets flood when it rains. The Dragonblade and Tokyoheim families had not become Valens in three months-but they had certainly become more than strangers.
The evening was mild, and the streets of the commercial district were lit with the amber glow of shop-front lanterns and foot traffic winding down for the night. Three figures moved through the crowd with the unhurried ease of young people who had nowhere urgent to be for another hour.
The eldest of the three-Maxwell Dragonblade, Max to anyone who knew him well-walked with his hands buried in the pockets of his dark vest. His golden eyes moved habitually across doorways, alleyways, and rooftops in a manner he had long since stopped noticing. His fiery orange hair caught the lamplight. He was his father's son in the sharp architecture of his face and the constant state of alertness, and his mother's son in the warmth he kept carefully banked beneath the surface.
To his left, Mist walked with the economical grace of someone trained from childhood to occupy space efficiently. Her crimson-tipped horns framed a face currently set in the mild expression she wore when thinking about half a dozen things at once and keeping all of them to herself. Her black-and-red striped tail traced a slow, pendulum arc behind her-relaxed, which was telling, as Mist's tail was an honest instrument even when the rest of her was guarded.
Then there was Kouga.
He walked to Max's right, emerald eyes bright and curious, taking in the city as though every street corner might hide something worth discovering. His horns angled forward in a way that was uniquely his own-different enough from his siblings to quietly mark the fact that he had not come to this family by blood. He had come by circumstance, then by choice, and finally by seventeen years of accumulated evidence proving some families are built rather than inherited. To them, the distinction was entirely academic.
Their errand was simple: resupply. Dust vials had a way of running low faster than anticipated, and their parents-currently at Beacon navigating the bureaucratic theater of presenting themselves as ordinary new faculty-had asked them to pick up a few extras before heading back.
The neon sign above the shop hummed softly in the dusk: FROM DUST TILL DAWN.
Max held the door open. They stepped inside.
◆ ◆ ◆
II. From Dust Till Dawn - Vale Commercial District
The shop smelled of ozone and minerals-that distinct cocktail of contained power shared by every Dust establishment. Behind the counter, an elderly shopkeeper with the deliberate movements of someone who had spent decades handling volatile materials offered them a brief nod. He had seen them around town before; he had even stopped startling at their horns.
Max drifted toward the front counter to check on their order. Kouga found himself drawn to a music display near the far wall-less out of interest in the tunes and more because a weapons catalog lay propped beside it, featuring an unusually detailed spine. Mist moved through the aisles with the quiet efficiency of someone running through a mental checklist.
Near the back of the store, half-hidden behind a rotating display of elemental primers, a young girl in a hooded red cloak sat cross-legged on the floor. A weapons catalog was spread across her knees, and small white earphones were firmly plugged into both ears.
She hadn't bothered to look up when the bell chimed.
Kouga glanced her way, registering her striking silver eyes beneath dark lashes-memorable even from a distance, even in passing. He turned back to his catalog, entirely unaware that this quiet moment would later look, in retrospect, completely inevitable.
Ruby's Perspective
I heard the shop door open and glanced up out of habit. Three Faunus-two with horns curving in unusual configurations, all three sporting tails that swayed with deliberate, unhurried grace. They weren't any Faunus variation I recognized from Vale, and I'd seen my fair share. Bull Faunus? No, the head shape was all wrong. Lizard? Closer, but the scale texture on their tails was much too fine, and lizard Faunus didn't typically carry horns like that.
They all wore crystal pendants around their necks, though the lighting wasn't good enough to make out the details. I filed it away in my mind and went right back to my catalog.
Then the door opened again. And the people walking in certainly weren't Faunus.
The man who entered first understood that a room was a stage and dressed accordingly. His suit was pristine white, his bowler hat orange, and his cane moved with the practiced flair of an affectation that had long since become second nature. Behind him, a half-dozen men in matching black suits and red-tinted glasses spread through the shop like an incoming tide-deliberate, unhurried, and deeply unsettling.
The old shopkeeper maintained his composure remarkably well. "Please. I don't want any trouble. Take the money. Just... please."
The man in the white suit leaned casually against the counter. "Relax, old timer. We're not here for the cash." His eyes drifted sideways to his enforcers with lazy indifference. "Grab the Dust."
The thugs fanned out toward the high glass tubes. One of them peeled away from the group and tapped a hooded figure on the shoulder.
No response.
He tapped harder.
Still nothing. The small white earbuds were doing their job a bit too well.
The thug made the universal pantomime for removing headphones-tapping his ear and gesturing impatiently. Finally, the girl pulled one earbud out, blinking up at him with an expression that suggested the interruption was both profoundly inconvenient and philosophically fascinating.
"Hands up," the thug snapped. "Hand over the Dust."
The girl looked at him the way one might inspect a bug discovered on a kitchen counter. "Are you... mugging me?"
"Yes."
A very brief, quiet pause followed. It ended abruptly when the thug was propelled through the shop window at a velocity utterly inconsistent with his previous confidence. The girl in the red cloak-armed with a scythe unreasonably large for her frame-vaulted right through the shattered glass before the window frame had even finished vibrating.
Meanwhile, in another aisle, a second thug made the tactical error of approaching Mist.
Up until that exact second, she had been having a pleasant evening. She was significantly less pleasant now.
"Hand over the bag," the thug growled, reaching for her shoulder strap. "We know you've got raw Dust in there."
Mist's eyes flicked upward. In the span of a single breath, her pupils narrowed into vertical slits-the instinctive shift of a feline under sudden stimulus. She regarded the man with the cold stillness of a predator staring down a remarkably unfortunate meal.
"Let go," she said, her voice dropping into a tone that offered a courtesy warning and expected it to be obeyed, "of my bag."
The kick that followed was perhaps a fraction harder than she intended. The thug's departure through the front entrance was remarkably definitive.
Mist stared at the empty space where the man had been standing, glanced out the shattered door, and quickly concluded she had miscalculated her physical output. She stepped outside to check on him.
Kouga looked over at Max.
Max let out the heavy sigh of a brother who had long since accepted that his family was constitutionally incapable of experiencing a quiet evening. He turned back to the counter.
"I am terribly sorry about the window. And the door." He reached smoothly into his vest pocket. "Allow me to cover the damages."
The old shopkeeper stared at him for a beat, completely disarmed by the gesture. Then, a genuine smile broke across his weathered face-the warm surprise of someone receiving unexpected decency in the middle of a robbery. "Don't worry about it, son. Come back when things settle down, and we'll talk. But I think your siblings might need a little help out there first."
Max nodded, a faint grin touching his lips, and sprinted out through the broken doorway.
◆ ◆ ◆
III. The Street - Night
The man in the white suit-who would later turn out to be Roman Torchwick, a career criminal with a theatrical streak and a deep aversion to other people's competence-was currently watching the collapse of his operation with the pained expression of a stage director observing his cast improvise a tragedy.
"Get her," he said with the clipped restraint of a man saving his actual frustration for later.
His men went after the girl in red. They did not come back in the direction he expected.
Instead, a small heap of thugs landed haphazardly across the pavement, propelled there by Mist Dragonblade. She touched down gracefully, her pupils still narrowed into thin feline slits, wearing the precise expression of someone who had heard a familiar insult one too many times and decided tonight was not the night to let it slide.
"Monster," one of the fallen men whimpered, scrambling backward. Several of his comrades prudently joined him.
Mist tilted her head. The shifting shadows caught her face in a way that looked entirely intentional.
"Monster," she echoed in a tone that suggested she had just received an unexpected compliment. "Very well. If you insist."
She moved.
The pavement cracked beneath her boots. The men did not stick around to test her follow-through.
From a safe distance, Roman Torchwick made a rapid, honest assessment of the situation. He filed it under problems to avoid entirely in the future and redirected his attention to the girl in red, who was currently dismantling his remaining crew with a collapsible scythe she swung with terrifying speed and genuine enthusiasm.
On the far side of the skirmish, another thug had managed to flank Ruby, bringing his blade down in a heavy, downward arc that meant business.
It never landed.
Kouga caught the blade bare-handed. His other arm was already moving to shove Ruby clear of the danger zone. The weapon didn't even scratch him; instead, it shattered against his grip, leaving the thug momentarily holding a useless hilt before a well-placed elbow introduced him to the cobblestones.
Ruby caught her balance and spun around, her gaze darting from the broken steel to Kouga, then to the empty space where the threat had just been.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
She opened her mouth, produced a syllable, closed it, and tried again. "Y-yeah. Thanks. I-thanks."
He flashed an easy, uncomplicated grin-the kind born of a simple, satisfying job well done. "No problem," he said, already pivoting back toward the remaining chaos with the natural situational awareness of someone who never truly stopped watching his surroundings.
Ruby stared at him for a second longer than necessary before giving her head a sharp shake to snap back to reality.
"Ruby Rose," she said, quickly stepping in beside him. "In case you were wondering. And... thanks again. I didn't catch your name."
"Kouga Dragonblade." He caught an oncoming punch, redirected the momentum, and put the attacker down without breaking his stride. "Just Kouga is fine."
"Just Kouga," Ruby repeated, finding the name suited him.
They fell into a natural, unspoken rhythm, fighting back to back against the remnants of Roman's crew. Their fighting styles clicked together almost by accident-his direct, hand-to-hand efficiency filling the gaps in her sweeping, momentum-based range. It wasn't formal or choreographed; it was just effective. Neither of them stopped to comment on it because neither had quite realized how seamless it was.
Roman Torchwick, however, had noticed.
He stood at the periphery, updating his mental threat assessment in real time. Tossing his cigar to the ground, he ground it out beneath his heel and extended his cane with a familiar, mechanical click.
"Impressive work, Red and Blue," he called out lazily as distant sirens began their low, climbing wail in the distance. "You've both been thoroughly entertaining. Unfortunately, I have an appointment to keep." He raised the tip of the cane, its barrel opening to reveal a glowing targeting reticle. "Ta-ta, kiddies."
The projectile he fired was crimson, dense, and traveling at dangerous speed.
It never reached Ruby.
Max stepped forward, catching the blast directly in his open palm. The energy dissipated against his hand the way a calm pond swallows a tossed stone-a brief ripple, and then nothing.
Max closed his hand, opened it, and inspected his palm with the mild curiosity of a scientist confirming a hypothesis.
"What have I told you two," he said, walking up alongside Mist, "about rushing in without a backup plan?"
Kouga actually had the grace to look abashed. "Sorry, big brother."
"You could have been killed, Kou," Mist scolded, her voice carrying the exact brand of older-sibling exasperation born of deep affection. "Think before you charge in next time."
"I know, I know. I just... she looked like she needed a hand." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
Max studied him for a moment before reaching out to ruffle his hair with a hand far gentler than his serious expression. "We're not mad. Just be careful."
Kouga let out a breath and straightened up.
Max and Mist turned their attention to Ruby, their expressions softening. They had only just met this strange girl, but she possessed an undeniable sincerity and an impressive composure under pressure that instantly earned their respect.
"We apologize if our brother caused any disruption," Max said politely.
Ruby waved her hands frantically. "No, no-he helped! He basically saved my life, actually." She paused, flushing slightly. "Thank you. All of you."
The three siblings smiled warmly-the easy, open expressions of people raised in a home where kindness was never treated as a weakness.
Suddenly, Kouga's head snapped up. His nostrils flared slightly-a subtle, almost imperceptible shift.
"Kou?" Mist asked.
"That man. Torchwick." Kouga pointed up the street toward a nearby building, where a pristine white suit was sprinting up the fire escape. "He went that way."
The old shopkeeper stepped out into his shattered doorway to survey the damage, offering Ruby a supportive nod. She was already sprinting after Roman before he could even clear the second landing.
◆ ◆ ◆
IV. The Rooftop
They cornered him on the roof, dangerously close to the idling Bullhead, and they might have caught him-except that Roman Torchwick had not survived the underworld by being easy to corner.
"Still with me? You're persistent, I'll give you that." He eyed the quartet with the mild, detached amusement of a man inspecting a minor roadblock. "Red. Blue. And... Orange, was it? And Pink?"
Mist's left eye twitched fractionally. "Fuchsia."
"And we're only here to make sure he doesn't get into more trouble than he can handle," Max added smoothly, gesturing toward Kouga.
"Right." Roman produced a glowing red Dust crystal from his breast pocket, tossed it casually onto the concrete between them, and raised his cane.
He fired. The crystal detonated in a concussive bloom of scarlet light, sending rooftop debris flying and filling the open air with a thick wall of smoke.
Roman laughed-a genuine, delighted sound, the laugh of a man who had just bought himself a crucial thirty seconds-and bolted toward the open hatch of the waiting transport.
He stopped laughing when the smoke cleared.
Standing between the dissipating blast and the unruffled teenagers was a woman in a long purple cape, one hand extended outward as a geometric shield of hard light dissolved around them. Her riding crop was poised in her other hand. Her expression radiated absolute, bone-deep uninterest in being inconvenienced.
Ruby let out a completely involuntary, totally unguarded gasp.
"A Huntress," she breathed, completely forgetting to keep her composure.
Glynda Goodwitch flicked her crop in a precise, practiced arc. The night sky overhead began to darken with sudden, unnatural intent-not the soft gathering of a rainstorm, but the sharp, focused accumulation of atmospheric Aura channeled like a lens. Roman cursed loudly, scrambled for the pilot controls, and barely missed being crushed by a hailstone the size of a boulder as the summoned storm made its displeasure known.
Max had gone completely still. Not out of fear-rather, the intense, predatory focus of a martial artist analyzing a technique he wanted to dissect. Mist stood beside him, tracking the same details.
"Wait," Max murmured quietly, lifting an arm to block Kouga and Mist when they instinctively shifted forward. "Let her work. I want to see how she handles this."
Glynda's gathered force arrows struck the Bullhead's hull in rapid, percussive succession. The mysterious woman in the hatch-hands wreathed in dark fire, moving with a disturbing, erratic grace-answered with fiery blasts meant to shatter the constructs. Glynda simply caught the fragments, reforming them mid-air with the unhurried precision of someone who had rehearsed this exact dance a hundred times.
Ruby swiftly reconfigured Crescent Rose into rifle mode and opened fire on the woman in the doorway. The bullets were deflected. In retaliation, the woman whipped a stream of intense, localized fire straight toward them.
Max stepped forward and took it head-on.
He spread both hands, and the cascading wall of flame poured over his arms and into his palms like water rushing down a drain, instantly vanishing. He glanced down at his warm skin with the mild intrigue of a scientist observing an interesting reaction.
Glynda whipped her head around at the sudden movement. For a fraction of a second, raw surprise flickered across her face before her iron-willed professionalism snapped back into place. She couldn't afford distractions. The Bullhead's hatch was sealing shut, and Roman was already banking the aircraft into a sharp climb.
The transport vanished into the dark skies above the city. Glynda watched it go with the cool, measured gaze of someone filing away an unfinished chore for later.
Then she turned around.
Ruby was already staring at her with the starry-eyed expression of someone who had completely forgotten she was nearly blown off a building and was now purely focused on securing an autograph.
Glynda blinked, a wave of profound exhaustion hitting her. This girl, she thought with considerably more exasperation than she let show, almost died. And she looks like she's attending a fan club meeting.
She cleared her throat sharply and turned her attention to Max, which felt significantly safer for her blood pressure.
"Young man. What exactly do you think you were doing back there? You could have been severely burned."
Max met her gaze without flinching. "I made a tactical judgment, ma'am. As the eldest present, keeping my siblings safe is my responsibility. Furthermore, I possess an innate affinity for flame-I can absorb raw heat that isn't my own without sustaining injury. I acknowledge I should have consulted you before acting, and I apologize for that."
The apology caught her entirely off-guard. It was the correct response-specific, accountable, and entirely lacking in defensiveness-delivered with the quiet respect of someone who understood authority without fearing it. She mentally filed that detail next to her notes on his fire-absorption trick, realizing she was going to have a long conversation about this later.
"Ahem. Regardless." She swept her gaze over all four youngsters. "There is someone who wishes to speak with you."
"All of us?" Ruby asked, pointing to herself.
"All of you. Follow me."
Max glanced back at his siblings and nodded once. "Lead the way, ma'am."
Mist subtly reached into her pouch, pulled out her Scroll, and tapped out a quick message to their parents as they fell into step behind the Huntress.
Max leaned down slightly. "Tell them we might be a little late."
"Already did," Mist replied smoothly.
◆ ◆ ◆
V. Beacon Academy - Professor Ozpin's Office
The office was shrouded in shadow, save for a single cone of harsh white light beaming down over a central glass table-an atmospheric choice that felt less like a coincidence and more like the deliberate preference of a man who had conducted countless high-stakes interrogations and had very firm opinions on how they should feel.
Ruby sat directly beneath the light, wearing the dazed look of someone rapidly reviewing the last sixty minutes of her life and finding the results overwhelmingly confusing. Kouga sat beside her, maintaining the posture of a young man trying very hard to look appropriately contrite.
Professor Glynda Goodwitch paced around the table, a digital tablet clutched in her hand. She wore the posture of an instructor who had delivered this exact scolding a hundred times and felt every bit as justified in it as the first.
"I trust you understand that your actions tonight had consequences, Miss Rose." She paused, then turned the full force of her amber gaze onto the red-haired boy beside her. "And that applies equally to you, Mr. Dragonblade. What on earth were you thinking?"
"Sorry, ma'am," Kouga said automatically.
"I beg your pardon?"
Kouga immediately straightened his spine. "Yes, Miss Goodwitch."
"They started it," Ruby muttered defensively.
Glynda closed her eyes for a long, slow blink. "If it were entirely up to me," she said, choosing her words with the strained precision of someone swallowing a much harsher sentence, "the two of you would be sent home tonight. Complete with an acknowledgment of your good intentions, followed by a very firm reminder of their reckless limitations."
She brought her riding crop down sharply against the edge of the table. Ruby flinched, while Kouga achieved absolute, statue-like stillness through sheer, practiced discipline.
"However." Glynda stepped aside, gesturing toward the shadows. "There is someone else who wishes to speak with you."
Professor Ozpin stepped through the doorway holding a warm mug and a plate of warm chocolate-chip cookies. He moved with the unhurried ease of a man who had seen centuries of conflict and developed a relationship with urgency that was mostly theoretical. He stopped and looked down at Ruby-staring for just a fraction of a second longer than politeness strictly required.
"Ruby Rose," he said softly. "You have silver eyes."
Ruby, who had been bracing herself for another lecture, blinked. "I-um. Yes."
He placed the plate of cookies on the table between them. "Where did you learn to fight like that?"
"Signal Academy."
"They taught you to wield a scythe of that scale?"
"One teacher in particular. My Uncle Qrow."
Something flickered across Ozpin's expression-a flash of old recognition-before settling back into its habitual, serene calm. He set his mug down and leaned forward slightly.
"I've seen that fighting style before. Only once. It belonged to a particularly stubborn, dusty old crow."
Ruby, who had been nibbling nervously on a cookie, swallowed in a panic. "That's my uncle! He taught at Signal-he basically taught me everything before I could even hold a proper tool-and now I'm just like-" She launched into a series of energetic hand gestures that clearly demonstrated her enthusiasm had completely outpaced her vocabulary.
Beside her, Kouga was fighting a losing battle to keep a straight face.
Ozpin watched the display with the quiet patience of a man who spent his life evaluating young talent. He was exceptionally skilled at separating adolescent performance from genuine substance, and what he saw in Ruby Rose was entirely, brilliantly sincere.
"Tell me, Miss Rose," he asked gently. "What is an earnest young woman like yourself doing at an academy that trains people for exceptionally dangerous work?"
"I want to be a Huntress."
"You want to fight monsters."
"Yes. I have two more years left at Signal, and then I was planning to apply here to Beacon." She had completely abandoned her self-editing now, her words spilling out faster, fueled by passion. "My older sister is starting here this year. She's going to be an amazing Huntress, and I want to be right beside her. Our parents always taught us that if you have the power to help people, you have a duty to do it-so I figured I might as well make a career out of it."
She paused, taking a breath. "The police are fine, but Huntsmen and Huntresses... it's just different. It means something."
She stopped abruptly, slightly breathless, suddenly realizing she had just bared her soul to the Headmaster of Beacon Academy and that he was studying her with an unreadable expression.
"Do you know who I am?" he asked.
"Professor Ozpin. Headmaster of Beacon."
"Hello."
"Nice to meet you."
A beat of absolute silence.
"Would you like to come to my school?"
The expression that washed over Ruby's face was indescribable-the shock of a person unexpectedly handed their absolute greatest dream, realizing with dizzying clarity that it felt just as wonderful as they had always imagined.
"More than anything," she whispered.
Ozpin glanced over at Glynda, who looked away with the body language of someone registering a professional disagreement she had chosen not to voice. He turned his attention back to the silver-eyed girl.
"Well, then."
He shifted his gaze to the remaining three teenagers.
Max, Mist, and Kouga had stood quietly throughout the exchange-not passively, but observing with the sharp, calculated attention of individuals raised to treat situational awareness as a survival skill. On the tablet Glynda had left running, silent security footage replayed the rooftop skirmish, showcasing their fluid, unorthodox combat mechanics.
"You are Faunus," Ozpin observed neutrally.
Mist adjusted her stance slightly. "Is that an issue, Professor?"
"Not one I anticipate." He tapped the edge of the tablet. "In all my years, I have never seen that specific martial approach. Not in Vale, not in Atlas, not anywhere utilizing standard military or Huntsman training. Where does it originate?"
Max answered smoothly, his voice steady. "Our parents, primarily. They believe the human body, properly conditioned, is the most reliable weapon in existence. Everything else-Dust, manufactured armaments-are just tools. Extensions. The true foundation has to be something that cannot be stripped away from you."
"And the rest?" Ozpin pressed.
"We've trained with others," Kouga added. "Though we cannot disclose names or locations. They requested anonymity, and we intend to honor it."
Ozpin absorbed the deflection with the quiet grace of a man accustomed to receiving guarded truths.
"I see. The Dragonblade name carries its own weight, I suppose." He folded his hands over the desk. "Your parents were students of mine. They graduated alongside Taiyang Xiao Long, Summer Rose, and the Branwen twins-Raven and Qrow. The Black Dragon Lord and the Crimson Maiden." He spoke the titles naturally, stripped of the breathless reverence others usually gave them. "You come from a remarkable lineage."
The three siblings visibly relaxed. Only then did they realize how much tension they had been holding.
"I would like to extend to you the same invitation I offered Miss Rose," Ozpin continued smoothly. "And that applies to your companions as well-I understand the Tokyoheim children are already known to you. Beacon's doors are open to all five of you."
Mist looked at her brothers, a lightning-fast silent conversation passing between them through micro-expressions.
Max spoke for the group. "That offer aligns perfectly with why our parents sent us here. It was their hope-and ours-that Beacon would provide something pure training cannot replicate: perspective, connections, and the kind of real-world pressure that sharpens what practice alone misses."
"Then it is settled," Ozpin said, rising from his chair. "Maxwell, Mist, and Kouga Dragonblade-welcome to Beacon Academy. I will personally handle the paperwork. Be sure to inform your parents."
As the four teenagers filed out of the office, Glynda waited until the heavy oak doors clicked shut before breaking her silence.
"Ozpin," she said, her tone cautious. "You know what they are."
"The rarest of Faunus," he replied quietly, staring out at the illuminated night sky. "And certainly the most formidable." He paused, sipping his coffee. "That young Dragonblade boy-Kouga. There is something unique about him. A variance I haven't encountered before. His origins differ from his siblings'."
"And that doesn't worry you?"
"Everything worries me, Glynda. That is rather the point." He turned away from the window. "We will keep a close watch. For now, that is all we can do."
◆ ◆ ◆
VI. The Airship to Beacon - Four Months Later
The military transport bound for Beacon Academy was massive, state-funded, and packed tight with first-year students experiencing the unique emotional vertigo of stepping into the lives they had spent years preparing for-a volatile cocktail of excitement, raw nerves, and the strange realization that their future was no longer just a hypothetical dream.
Yang Xiao Long managed her own excitement by hugging her younger sister so fiercely that Ruby made sounds suggesting her ribcage had very strong opinions on the matter.
"Yang," Ruby wheezed, her lungs entirely out of air. "Please."
"I am just so proud of you!" Yang finally released her, vibrating with enthusiasm that showed zero signs of slowing down. "Everyone at Beacon is going to think you're an absolute legend."
"I don't want to be thought of as a legend." Ruby straightened her red cloak, attempting to reclaim a shred of dignity. "I just want my knees to function normally."
"A completely reasonable goal."
"It is! It really is, Yang."
Yang slung a heavy, affectionate arm around her sister's shoulders. "You got moved ahead two full years. Two years, Rubes. I know you hate making a fuss, but it is a big deal. Let yourself enjoy it for a second."
Ruby opened her mouth to argue back-and was interrupted by a smooth, calm voice cutting through the cabin chatter from a few rows back.
"She's right, you know. Older siblings generally are about these things. It's practically an occupational hazard."
Ruby spun around to find Max Dragonblade watching her with the mild, genuine amusement of someone who had been listening just long enough to weigh in. Beside him, Mist offered a small, polite wave. Kouga sat quietly nearby, fixing Ruby with that same uncomplicated, attentive gaze she remembered from their first meeting-steady, unhurried, demanding nothing in return.
"Oh!" Ruby's face broke into a broad, instantaneous smile that arrived before she could filter it. "You're all here!"
"Did you honestly think we'd miss the airship?" Mist asked with a slight smirk.
"I didn't know when you were arriving-I mean-" Ruby completely fumbled the sentence, crossed the aisle, and impulsively threw her arms around Kouga in a sudden hug.
The gesture caught him completely off-guard; he went rigid for a split second before smoothly recovering.
"This is," Ruby murmured into the shoulder of his jacket before pulling back, her face glowing a bright, embarrassed pink, "to say thank you. For back then. I know I'm late, but I never got to properly say it."
"You don't owe me anything." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking mildly discomposed in a way that he clearly didn't mind at all. "It was just the right thing to do."
From three feet away, Yang watched the interaction unfold, a slow, knowing smile spreading across her face-one she wisely decided to keep to herself. For now.
"I'm Yang Xiao Long," she announced, stepping forward to extend a hand toward the Dragonblade siblings. "Just so you know, Ruby talks about you guys constantly."
"Yang," Ruby groaned, mortified.
"It's a genuine compliment!"
Mist shook the offered hand. When Yang immediately followed up with, "I love your horns and tail. They're genuinely gorgeous," a light blush crept up Mist's cheeks.
Mist's tail gave a single, involuntary wag before she managed to rein it in. "I-thank you. That's... very kind."
"Our sister isn't usually accustomed to compliments regarding her Faunus traits," Max explained, taking Yang's hand in turn with the easy, grounded poise of someone completely comfortable in his own skin. "It means a great deal."
Yang looked up at him.
Max looked back down at her.
For roughly two seconds, absolute silence hung between them. The air in that specific corner of the cabin grew noticeably charged-a quiet tension neither acknowledged aloud, yet both distinctly registered.
"Right," Yang cleared her throat, blinking. "Cool. Good. Thanks for watching out for Ruby back there."
"Happy to," Max replied smoothly.
Mist, with the practiced air of someone quietly filing away valuable intelligence for later use, remained entirely silent.
Introductions rippled down the row: Shoryu Tokyoheim, bearing striking silver horns and a matching tail, sitting with a casual confidence unusual for his age; and his sister, Honoo, whose commanding presence seemed to fill the space a second before she arrived and linger after she moved. Ruby stared at Honoo for a beat-the involuntary, startled appreciation one reserves for truly breathtaking things-before quickly snapping herself back to reality with a silent internal lecture on composure.
The other male students on the transport were considerably less successful at maintaining their composure.
Before anyone could dwell on it, a bright blue hologram flickered to life at the front of the cabin: Professor Glynda Goodwitch. Rendered in the cool light of the projector, she regarded the gathered students with the authoritative poise of someone who had welcomed enough freshman classes to be entirely immune to nervous excitement.
"Hello, and welcome to Beacon," her voice projected effortlessly across the room. "You belong to a select few chosen to attend this prestigious academy. Our world enjoys a fragile peace, and as future Huntsmen and Huntresses, it is your solemn duty to preserve it. You have demonstrated the courage required for such a path. Now, it is our responsibility to provide you with the knowledge and tools to defend this world."
The hologram dissolved into static.
Ruby bolted to her feet, pressing her face against the viewport. Her expression melted into that familiar, awestruck look where she completely lost the ability to form coherent sentences-eyes wide, tracking the unfolding landscape below with unadulterated wonder.
"You can actually see Signal from up here," she whispered. "Home isn't nearly as far away as it felt."
"Beacon is home now, too," Yang said softly. It was spoken gently, it was entirely true, and Ruby felt the profound weight of both facts at once.
Suddenly, from the very back of the cabin, came the unmistakable, agonizing sound of someone violently losing their breakfast, followed by a deeply profound, echoing silence.
"The view," Yang observed dryly, "is apparently not for everyone."
Max noticed the unfortunate splatter on the toe of Yang's boot at the exact moment she looked down and discovered it herself-making his observation simultaneously accurate and entirely redundant. The ensuing three minutes involved Yang desperately trying to salvage her footwear, Ruby desperately pretending she wasn't related to anyone currently panicking, and the surrounding passengers giving them a wide, respectful berth while biting back laughter.
The Faunus teens didn't even try to hide their amusement. They were only human, after all.

Opening: Burn (Tales of Berseria) by Flow
The morning sky above the Kingdom of Vale is a pristine, cloudless expanse of blue, calm and indifferent to the ambitions gathering beneath it. The camera pans slowly downward, descending from the quiet upper atmosphere past the floating cliffs of Beacon Academy, where first-year students-some captured only as sharp, distinct silhouettes-plummet gracefully through the air toward the sprawling emerald forests below.
As the heavy, driving guitar riff of the song kicks in, the scene cuts sharply into action.
Maxwell Dragonblade is seen moving with lethal, fluid precision, his bare hands wreathed in roaring crimson flames as he shatters the bone armor of an Alpha Beowolf with a single, devastating strike.
Mist Dragonblade cuts through the shadows, her feline agility and razor-sharp reflexes on full display as she expertly dismantles a creeping Deathstalker, her tail slicing through the air like a whip.
Kouga Dragonblade stands his ground against an Ursa Major, catching a sweeping paw bare-handed before flipping the massive creature over his shoulder with effortless strength.
Ruby Rose bursts across the screen in a whirlwind of crimson rose petals, her oversized scythe scything through a pack of creeping Nevermores.
Yang Xiao Long delivers a punishing punch that sends shockwaves through the forest floor, obliterating a charging Boarbatusk in a brilliant flash of golden kinetic energy.
The tempo of the music builds, and the sequence shifts. The characters are no longer fighting alone; they move in perfect, synchronized coordination. Max and Yang flank each other, their fire-fueled strikes clearing a path through a swarm of Grimm, while Mist and Kouga weave seamlessly between them. Ruby's speed bridges the gaps, her scythe flashing in the sunlight as the entire team stands back-to-back against an endless tide of darkness.
As the chorus peaks, the scene darkens into a stark, high-contrast silhouette.
The Dragonblade siblings, flanked by shadowy figures alongside Ruby and Yang, stand united against a towering, menacing adversary wreathed in dark smoke-a looming threat representing Salem's inner circle. Weapons clash in a brief, blinding burst of sparks and elemental energy as they push back the dark vanguard together.
The music swells one final time, and the camera breaks away from the frantic combat, panning rapidly back up through the canopy, past the spires of Beacon Academy, and returning once more to the serene, unchanging blue of the morning sky.
VII. Beacon Academy - The Courtyard
Approached from the air or the main gates, Beacon Academy possessed the kind of breathtaking architecture that immediately silenced debate. It sat proudly upon its towering cliff with the settled permanence of something that had not merely been constructed, but grown from the earth itself-stone spires mirroring the jagged mountains behind them, and grand archways framing the sky with the quiet confidence of a masterpiece. The surrounding gardens were meticulously tended, and the ancient stone fountains caught the morning light.
Ruby stopped walking, staring upward in silent awe. For a brief second, all the anticipation, nervousness, and quiet dread she had carried dissolved into the singular, stunning realization that the academy was real-and that she was actually standing inside it.
"Wow," she breathed.
"The view from Vale's lower districts has nothing on this," Yang agreed, looking around with bright eyes.
"It's impressive," Honoo noted with the measured appreciation of someone who had seen architectural marvels before and knew how to separate true craft from mere flash.
"It doesn't quite match Shura's distinct character," Kouga remarked with the fond nostalgia of someone thinking back to his roots. "Or the atmosphere of Sanctuary. But I'll grant that it's remarkable."
"High praise indeed," Mist said dryly.
"And entirely deserved," Shoryu added.
Max studied the stonework with the analytical eye of an engineer, quietly cataloging the structural integrity. "The engineering here is quite extraordinary, especially considering the natural constraints of the site."
Ruby had stopped listening entirely because a few yards away, a student was demonstrating a collapsible staff that telescoped in a way she had never witnessed, while another wielded a blade capable of generating independent, non-Dust-reliant flames. Nearby, a third student adjusted a pair of gauntlets that looked impossibly intricate and intensely dangerous.
Yang smoothly intercepted her sister by grabbing the back of her hood.
"Ow!"
"They're just weapons, Rubes."
"They're not just weapons, Yang! They're physical manifestations of individual-"
"Ruby."
"-philosophies, combat identities, and I have never seen a gyroscopic, Dust-accelerated recoil system-"
"Ruby." Yang sighed the weary sigh of an older sister who had surrendered to this argument years ago. "Aren't you happy with Crescent Rose?"
Ruby instantly summoned her weapon with the fluid, effortless muscle memory of someone who could do it blindfolded. "Of course I am! She's perfect. I just like seeing new designs. It's like meeting new people." She paused, blinking. "Actually, it's better than meeting new people, because weapons don't-" She suddenly realized how that sounded. "I mean. You know what I mean."
"Still struggling with the whole social interaction thing?" Kouga teased gently.
"I'm fine with people I already know! It's just... new people are unpredictable. You never know what they're-" Ruby trailed off, looking at him. "You were very patient with me back at the shop. Not everyone is."
"You'll never figure them out if you don't give them a chance," Honoo said, her tone carrying the quiet wisdom of someone who understood the struggle firsthand.
"You might even meet someone you didn't expect to like," Mist added with a slight smile.
Ruby made the frustrated face of someone who hated admitting when an argument made sense. She turned to Yang for backup, only to discover that her sister had already slipped away into the bustling crowd, offering a cheerful wave and a quick, whispered remark to Max that Ruby was too far away to catch.
Max's expression suggested he had no earthly idea what Yang had just said to him. The tips of his ears had turned a distinct shade of dark pink. Mist noticed it immediately, filing the reaction away with the pleased expression of someone saving prime material for later.
Ruby watched her sister vanish into the sea of students, feeling that sudden, sharp lurch of vulnerability that comes from losing your usual anchor in an unfamiliar place.
Kouga stepped closer, watching her reaction.
"We're sticking with you," he said simply, delivering the plan with the matter-of-fact certainty of a promise rather than a hollow reassurance. "Yang asked us to."
"She didn't have to do that."
"No," he agreed. "She did anyway."
Ruby stood in the grand courtyard of Beacon Academy surrounded by five extraordinary people she had known for four months-and grown to care for far more than she expected-finally allowing herself to believe that everything was going to be completely fine.
Then she took a sudden step backward, tripped squarely over a heavy luggage cart, and sent a cascade of travel cases crashing across the stone walkway.
A white-haired girl in expensive traveling clothes spun around, her face twisted into an expression that Ruby would later describe as possessing the absolute, unyielding temperature of a glacier.
◆ ◆ ◆
VIII. The Courtyard - A Complicated Introduction
"What," said the white-haired girl, "are you doing."
It wasn't technically a question. It had the interrogative shape of one, but carried the weight of a heavy accusation.
"I'm-I'm so sorry-" Ruby scrambled back to her feet with the frantic, apologetic energy of someone who was entirely sincere and fully aware it wouldn't help. "I didn't see-"
"Sorry? Do you have any idea what could have been-" The girl snatched a spilled case out of Ruby's hands before she could reach for it, snapping it open to reveal neat, orderly rows of glowing Dust vials. "This is Schnee-purified Dust, mined directly from the Schnee family quarries. Do you have any comprehension of what that means?"
Shoryu stepped quietly up beside Ruby. His posture was deceptively calm, the look of a young man waiting for a sentence to finish before deciding how to respond.
"-and I wouldn't expect a lowly Faunus liz-"
She never finished the word. Shoryu's gaze, which had been patient a second prior, hardened into something entirely devoid of mercy. The ambient temperature in that corner of the courtyard plummeted by several degrees through entirely non-magical means.
"I would think very carefully," Shoryu said, his voice dropping into a quiet, lethal register, "about how you finish that sentence."
The white-haired girl blinked, briefly forced to recalibrate. The red Dust vial in her hand was now waving toward Ruby with escalating emphasis, showering a cascade of volatile particles right into Ruby's face-a danger entirely ignored by everyone except the five friends standing far enough back to appreciate the physics of what was coming.
Kouga stepped forward. "If you could maybe-the Dust-she's about to-"
Max caught his arm, holding him back. "Don't. We tried. Just watch the radius."
Mist took a prudent step backward. Shoryu and Honoo followed suit. They had all witnessed this sequence of events before.
Ruby sneezed.
The resulting pillar of roaring flame, cascading flurry of snowflakes, and branching arc of high-voltage electricity were, objectively speaking, exceptionally impressive for an involuntary reflex. The Dust vial was launched in a brilliant ballistic arc across the courtyard, landing neatly at the feet of a dark-haired girl who was quietly reading near the edge of the garden. She glanced down at the Schnee Dust Company logo stamped on the casing, then up at the smoking crater of a tableau in the middle distance with an expression of mild, detached amusement.
A profound silence descended over that section of the grounds.
Mist stepped forward, addressing the white-haired girl with the deliberate, heavy patience of someone choosing to be the adult in the room despite deeply regretting it.
"My brother attempted to warn you. Several times."
"Your brother-if you think I'm going to take lectures from a-"
"Mist." Honoo stepped between them with the steady, unstoppable momentum of a tidal current-entirely unhurried, completely immovable. She looked at Mist with soft, grounding authority. "You're reacting out of love. I know. But right now, you aren't thinking clearly, and escalating this helps no one."
Mist took a slow, deep breath. Then another. The sharp, coiled tension in her shoulders slowly dissipated.
"You're right," she admitted quietly. She turned her amber eyes back to the white-haired girl. "I snapped at you, and that was unbecoming of me. I apologize. My family and friends mean everything to me, and I do not tolerate them being dismissed. That said, my reaction was my own, and I own it."
The white-haired girl stood entirely frozen.
The mental calculations running through her head were painfully obvious: a Faunus offering an unprompted, unconditional apology without defense or ego. It completely defied her worldview.
"W-well," she stammered. "As long as you understand."
She pivoted back to Ruby, her tone softening a fraction-not warm, precisely, but stripped of outright hostility. Clearly, she was capable of recalibration when forced.
"Aren't you a little young to be attending this academy?"
"I-well-"
"I may have overreacted," the white-haired girl conceded, sounding as though she were reciting lines from an etiquette manual. "Just watch where you're going next time. We aren't here for sparring drills. We are here to fight monsters."
"I'll remember that," Ruby muttered.
The dark-haired girl from the garden walked up, moving with the quiet, self-contained grace of a closed book, and extended the stray vial.
"Weiss Schnee," she recited flatly. "Heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, one of the largest energy propellant producers in the world."
Weiss accepted the vial with the instinctive pride of someone receiving high praise, right before the second half of the sentence dropped.
"The same company," the dark-haired girl continued smoothly, "widely known for its controversial labor practices and its rather complicated relationship with basic accountability."
Weiss's face ran through a remarkable gamut of offended expressions in record time.
Ruby, to her immense credit, managed to hold in her laughter until Weiss scooped up her remaining cases and marched away with the furious, purposeful stride of someone who had decided the courtyard contained entirely too many people she disliked.
The dark-haired girl turned to walk in the opposite direction. That was the precise moment Ruby realized she hadn't introduced herself, caught the girl's name, or said anything coherent-and that the opportunity had already slipped away.
Ruby stood frozen in the center of the courtyard, taking stock of the chaos.
"Welcome to Beacon," she said softly to no one in particular.
Kouga walked over and sat cross-legged right on the stone path beside her feet.
"What are you doing?" Ruby asked, blinking down at him.
"Seemed like the reasonable thing to do," he replied casually.
Max stepped up and lowered himself to the ground right next to his brother. "Honestly, I'm just tired."
"Total solidarity," Mist agreed, sitting down beside Max.
"I've had more peaceful mornings," Shoryu muttered, settling onto the pavement.
"We aren't going to let you be the only one lying on the floor, Ruby," Honoo said gently, sinking gracefully into a seated position that somehow made sitting on dirty stone look like an intentional aesthetic choice.
Ruby looked down at all of them-at their horns, their tails, their glowing pendants, and the unconditional, effortless warmth of people who had decided without a single word of discussion to have her back-and made a sound right between a laugh and a sob. Then she laughed properly, and they joined in. When it was time to stand, Kouga simply reached out and offered her a steady hand.
A moment later, a blond-haired boy with the haggard, shell-shocked expression of someone enduring the worst day of his life rounded the corner, introducing himself as Jaune Arc.
"Wait, aren't you the guy who puked all over the airship?" Ruby blurted out.
Jaune absorbed the blow with the stoic dignity of a man who knew his reputation was already ruined. "Is that really what people are going to call me?"
"Probably for a while," Kouga said, offering an honest, sympathetic grimace.
"Fantastic," Jaune groaned. "Just fantastic."
Together, the expanding group turned and began to walk.
◆ ◆ ◆
IX. The Amphitheater - Address to the First Years
The grand amphitheater was carved directly into the hillside overlooking the central courtyard, designed with an architectural precision that gathered and amplified sound effortlessly. When they arrived, the tiered stone rows were already packed with first-year students, buzzing with the restless, shifting energy of a crowd that hadn't yet found its collective rhythm.
Ruby quickly spotted her sister waving from the third row and wove her way through the seats. The Faunus group settled into the row directly adjacent, close enough that the proximity felt natural rather than forced.
Up on the stage, Professor Ozpin was already standing at the podium.
He didn't demand attention the way standard public speakers did-not through booming volume, an imposing physical presence, or theatrical displays of authority. He simply stood there in quiet stillness, and the chatter of the massive room naturally dissolved around him like water finding its level. The silver of his hair and the profound composure of his manner gave him the timeless air of a fixture who had inhabited these halls for ages and intended to stay just as long.
"I'll keep this brief," he began, and the amphitheater fell entirely silent. "You have come here seeking knowledge. To refine the skills you possess and acquire those you lack. When your tenure here is complete, your intent is to dedicate your lives to the defense of others." He paused, letting his gaze sweep over the crowd. "Yet, when I look out at this assembly, I do not see finished readiness. I see raw potential waiting to be forged into direction."
A low murmur rippled through the seats-the universal reaction of a crowd when confronted with an uncomfortable truth.
"Knowledge alone will not resolve this for you. Your years within these walls will demonstrate that truth clearly enough. Academic understanding can only ever carry a person to the threshold." His voice remained level, unhurried, carrying the weight of someone who had witnessed what lay ahead and harbored neither false optimism nor needless alarm. "It is you who must choose to cross that threshold. That choice begins now. It begins tomorrow morning."
Without another word, he stepped away from the podium, departing the stage before the heavy silence in the room had even begun to lift.
Professor Goodwitch replaced him with the brisk, no-nonsense efficiency of someone driving an agenda forward.
"You will assemble in the main ballroom tonight. Tomorrow at dawn, your initiation begins. Be prepared. You are dismissed."
As the students began to stir and file out, Yang leaned over toward Ruby. "He seemed... worlds away."
"Yes," Ruby agreed softly, keeping her eyes fixed on the empty podium. "Like he was thinking about something entirely outside of this room."
◆ ◆ ◆
X. The Ballroom - Night
The massive ballroom at night transformed into a vast, sprawling sea of sleeping bags, duffels, and first-year students caught in that particular, restless limbo of being utterly exhausted yet too wired to actually sleep. It felt like a space suspended between worlds-no longer the home they had all left behind, and not yet the rigorous reality of the life awaiting them. For the moment, it occupied an interval that felt strangely comfortable.
Ruby sat cross-legged in her pajamas, an open journal spread across her knees, furiously scratching out a letter trying to capture the surreal texture of the day for someone back home who had no frame of reference for it.
Yang crashed down onto the sleeping bag right beside her with the uncontainable enthusiasm of someone carrying fantastic news about the evening.
"It's just like one giant slumber party!" Yang announced, beaming.
"Dad would have severe, existential concerns about the boy-to-girl ratio," Ruby replied without looking up from her page.
"Dad isn't here." Yang stretched out contentedly, staring up at the vaulted ceiling. "What are you even writing?"
"A letter. For the team back at Signal." Ruby paused, her pen hovering over the paper as she anticipated the teasing. "I promised I'd keep them updated on how things were going."
"That is adorable."
The pillow struck Yang square in the face with the lethal speed born of a lifetime of sibling rivalry.
"I didn't get to bring anyone else with me!" Ruby grumbled. "It's really weird not knowing anyone here."
Yang casually tossed the pillow aside, maintaining the infinite patience of someone determined to win an argument. "Ruby. Seriously? You already know six people."
"I know," Ruby muttered. "Kouga and the others were very... they were genuinely kind to me today. I know they were."
"And you still haven't officially decided to call them your friends yet because...?"
"Because knowing someone for a few months isn't automatically the same as-" Ruby cut herself off, realizing her defense was rapidly crumbling in real time. "Yang."
"They literally sat on the dusty floor of Beacon's main courtyard with you," Yang pointed out. "Ruby. They sat right down on the floor."
The heavy silence that followed was the distinct quiet of a younger sister being completely defeated by an airtight point.
"I suppose they did."
"And Kouga," Yang continued, pressing her advantage with the glee of a predator spotting an opening, "whom you have now mentioned twice in this conversation without me even bringing him up-"
"Yang, stop."
"-who saved your life, stuck by your side for four straight hours, and planted himself right on the pavement next to you. And you're writing a letter all about your day at Beacon, and you haven't mentioned him once."
"I was-" Ruby's pen stopped entirely. Her face turned a shade of crimson that had nothing to do with her cloak. "I was getting to that part!"
"My little sister," Yang declared with profound, teasing warmth, "has a total crush."
"I do not-it is not-he's just nice, and it's completely different from-" Ruby abandoned the argument altogether, yanking her sleep mask down over her eyes with an aggressive snap. "Good night, Yang."
"Good niiight~" Yang sang out, highly amused.
A few rows over, bathed in the soft, solitary glow of a single candle near the towering glass windows, Blake Belladonna sat cross-legged, reading with the intense, laser-focused concentration of someone who had deliberately chosen her spot to be politely, firmly unavailable.
Yang glanced at Blake. Then glanced back at Ruby's covered face. She made an executive decision.
"Come on."
"Yang, no-please, no-"
The introduction was executed entirely over Blake's mild, unspoken objections, Ruby's mounting mortification, and Yang's breezy refusal to acknowledge that any of this was awkward. Somehow, miraculously, right in the middle of her internal panic wishing the floor would open up and swallow her, Ruby managed to squeak out a question about the book Blake was holding.
Blake looked up, her guarded expression softening as she processed the genuine curiosity. "A man with two souls," she answered quietly. "Each one fighting for control of the shared body."
"That sounds lonely," Ruby said simply, entirely devoid of pretense or forced profundity.
Blake went still for a beat, struck by the unvarnished honesty of a statement offered without an agenda.
They began to talk in low, fits-and-starts murmurs about books, ideals, and the reasons people chose to do difficult, terrifying things for complete strangers. Blake's answers were guarded and precise; Ruby's were wild and unfiltered. Yang watched from a diplomatic distance, thoroughly satisfied with how the operation was proceeding.
The fledgling conversation was abruptly cut short when Weiss Schnee appeared, having tried and failed to sleep through the chatter, glaring at them with the frosty demeanor of a girl who deeply regretted that they weren't someone else's problem.
They returned the glare with equal enthusiasm.
Before the brewing standoff could escalate into something genuinely complicated, Honoo materialized silently at the edge of the candle's radius. She wore a pleasant, utterly unwavering smile that carried the absolute, immovable weight of an iron wall.
"Ladies," she said softly, her voice sweet yet carrying zero room for negotiation. "Several people are trying to sleep. Including myself, which is the part that actually matters."
Yang and Weiss instantly launched into simultaneous explanations, each vigorously pointing out why the other was entirely to blame.
Honoo's smile didn't twitch by a fraction of a millimeter. It was, Ruby realized with sudden clarity, a far more effective tool for enforcing total silence than anything she had ever witnessed.
"I didn't ask who started it," Honoo said smoothly. "I am simply asking you both to come have a very quiet, very brief conversation with me about how the rest of this evening is going to proceed."
Both of them swallowed hard and went.
Ruby and Blake watched them vanish into the dim rows of students, then looked at each other, and finally stared at the empty space where three people had been standing a second prior.
"Is she always like that?" Blake asked, blinking.
"I've only known her since this morning," Ruby whispered. "But yes. Absolutely."
Blake nodded slowly with the deep, respectful gravity of someone hurriedly updating their internal threat assessment.
Without another word, Blake blew out the candle. Ruby pulled her sleep mask back down and slid into her sleeping bag. In the warm, shadowy quiet of the ballroom, surrounded by the breathing of three hundred teenagers caught between yesterday and tomorrow, Beacon Academy held its breath and waited for the dawn.
End of Chapter Two
Coming Next -
Chapter Three: Ruby Rose & Initiation II: The Test and the Making of Teams

XI. Interlude: Akeboshi (Kimetsu no Yaiba Ending 2 - Mugen Train Arc)
The screen fades from the warm dark of the Beacon ballroom into the cool, melancholic hues of a breaking dawn. As the gentle, acoustic guitar chords of Akeboshi begin to play, the visual shifts to a wide, cinematic shot of the academy's soaring spires piercing through a sea of morning fog.
Ruby Rose stands at the edge of a high cliff, her red cloak fluttering softly in the wind as she looks out toward the horizon, clutching Crescent Rose to her chest. Beside her, Kouga Dragonblade stands in quiet, steady solidarity, offering a reassuring glance that anchors her against the uncertain winds of the upcoming trial.
The camera pans downward into the training grounds, capturing Max Dragonblade and Yang Xiao Long back-to-back, their fists glowing with synchronized kinetic and thermal energy as they fend off a shifting blur of shadowy Grimm. Their movements are fierce, perfectly balanced, and charged with an undeniable, electric chemistry.
The montage shifts tones, flowing gracefully through glimpses of the broader cast: Mist Dragonblade moving with silent, feline precision across a moonlit rooftop; Shoryu and Hon'oo standing side-by-side with poised, immovable confidence; and brief, teasing silhouettes of characters yet to be introduced, their identities shrouded in mystery as they prepare to step onto the stage.
As the chorus swells, the entire main cast gathers beneath the towering gates of Beacon Academy. They are different-diverse in origin, combat style, and background-yet united by a shared horizon. The music fades on a final, resonant chord as the camera lifts back into the clear morning sky, leaving behind the quiet promise of the trials yet to come.
Author's Note & Voting Poll
Whew! That was a massive chapter covering a whopping three episodes of setup and character dynamics! For those who caught the hints, you already know who Ruby's paired with. But just in case it flew under the radar, here are the tentative pairings so far (subject to change based on your feedback and votes!):
Ruby x Kouga
Max x Yang (Tentative)
Kazuma x Weiss (Tentative)
Hon'oo x Sun (Tentative)
Shoryu x Blake (Tentative)
Yukikaze x Yatsuhashi / Jaune (Tentative)
Toshirou x Velvet (Tentative)
Mist x Neptune (Tentative)
The pairings marked with question marks are entirely open to your votes! Below are the voting options for each male character in the main cast (excluding Kouga, since his path with Ruby is set):
1. Who is the best pairing option for Max?
Yang Xiao Long
Weiss Schnee
Blake Belladonna
Velvet Scarlatina
Pyrrha Nikos
2. Who should Kazuma (our upcoming male OC, introduced in the next couple of chapters) be paired with?
Weiss Schnee
Blake Belladonna
Pyrrha Nikos
Velvet Scarlatina
3. Who should Mist be paired with?
Sun Wukong
Neptune Vasilias
Yatsuhashi Daichi
Jaune Arc
Oscar Pine (Volume 5+)
4. Who should Shoryu be with?
Weiss Schnee
Yang Xiao Long
Blake Belladonna
Velvet Scarlatina
Pyrrha Nikos
5. Who should Hon'oo end up with?
Sun Wukong
Neptune Vasilias
Oscar Pine (Volume 5+)
Jaune Arc
Yatsuhashi Daichi
(As for what specific type of Faunus Hon'oo and Shoryu actually are-well, that secret will be revealed very soon! Here's a hint: it's a cameo appearance inspired by creatures from a wildly popular movie series that happens to be my absolute favorite trilogy of all time.)
Cast your votes in the comments below, and I'll see you all in the next update!