I glance up, searching the stands for a familiar face. There she is, Bleiss, gets up slowly. She
blinks, looking around, taking in the arena's silence, the staring faces. Confusion knits her
brows as she turns back to me, her gaze landing on my torso.
Realization dawns, her cheeks flushing a deep, crimson red.
"Sooo…" she mouths, her eyes flicking up to mine before darting away again, a shameful
smile tugging weakly at her lips. "I see that you got my little note."
"THIS NOTE!" I shout pointing to my torso.
Bleiss flinches at my shout, her eyes wide. Weiss stands beside her, arms crossed, her lips
pressed into a thin line.
"I do hope you're satisfied, dear sister." Weiss casts a withering glance at Bleiss, her voice
dripping with irony. "Once again you are the center of attention."
Bleiss shrugs, a smirk playing on her lips.
"I mean…" the goth muses aloud. "Everyone can see that Ash has an owner, so I'm
satisfied. Thanks ever so much for noticing, dear sister."
Weiss's left eye twitches as Bleiss leans forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
"And he's kinda hot when angry." Says Bleiss with a goofy grim.
I scoff, shaking my head as I turn to Pyrrha, ready to fight.
"Sorry about that." My fists clench as I bring them up in a close range boxing stance. "Let's
get this show back on the road."
Pyrrha's face is a shade of red that matches her hair. She shifts, her gaze flicking to my bare
chest, then away. "Ah, are you...are you going to fight like that?" She asks, avoiding my eyes.
I look down, remembering my state of undress.
"Yeah..." I say, noticing the problem. "I guess you're right."
Pyrrha sighs, relief washing over her features. Thanks to her I remember that I still have
metal on me.
I unbuckle my belt, kick off my boots, and start shimmying out of my pants. Pyrrha's eyes
widen, her mouth dropping open.
"What are you doing?!" She shouts, shaking her arms. "What is wrong with you?!"
"Metal plates," I grunt, pointing to the offensive trousers and boots. "Can't have those now,
can we?"
She throws her hands up, turning away as I kick the pants aside.
"You have no decency! No honor!"
"Decency and honor don't put food on the table, sweetheart." I chuckle, rolling my shoulders
back.
Taking advantage of her low guard due to shame, I dash forward, almost a blur against the
arena's gleaming floor.
Freed from 2.4 tons(2,65 freedom tons) of gravity dust plates, I'm a rocket of speed and raw
power. Pyrrha's eyes widen as she scrambles to raise her shield, but her form it's sloppy
than before, more a desperate attempt to hide than a defensive maneuver.
My grin stretches wide as I leap forward, tucking one leg to my chest mid-run, the floor
cracking beneath the power of my jump.
"Rider Kick!" I bellow, hurtling at breakneck speed toward the Mistral Champion.
Pyrrha lifts her head, confusion flickering across her face, but it's too late. My foot slams into
her shield, a deafening boom reverberating through the arena.
BOOM!
Pyrrha clings to her shield for dear life, but her feet leave the ground as she's launched
backward, her body flailing like a ragdoll, before crashing into the wall.
CRUNCH!
Dust and debris billow out, obscuring her form.
Silence grips the arena, no one believes what just happened and especially how it
happened.
{Ring out!} Professor Port's voice booms out. {Victory goes to Ash Williams!}
But the audience still doesn't react, staring in astonishment. Well... everyone except Bleiss.
Bleiss jumps to her feet, screaming like a banshee.
"Fuckin' nailed that bitch, Babe!" Celebrates the girl in black next to her frozen twin sister.
"You're a motherfuckin' beast!!"
She whistles, claps, and hollers, using every vulgar word in the book to express just how
incredible she thinks I am. I chuckle, rubbing the back of my neck as my face heats up. Not
used to praise, especially not from someone like Bleiss.
Across the arena, the dust begins to settle. Pyrrha pushes herself off the wall, her shield
bearing the imprint of my foot. Her expression is sharp, focused. I steel myself, bracing for
aggression, or at least the usual barrage of insults I get from tournaments. I'm used to the
venom that comes after a 'win like this'.
But Pyrrha walks up until she stands in front of me, her eyes locking onto mine. She extends
her hand, waiting for me to take it.
"I do not agree with your methods, Ash Williams." Her voice is steady, sincere. "But you are
indeed strong, you fought well and I didn't. Your victory is deserved."
I blink, taken aback by the lack of insults, and snide remarks. Respect is rare to me. I reach
out, clasping her hand. Her grip is firm, her fingers calloused from years of training.
"Thanks, Pyrrha."
"You are welcome." A small smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.
She steps back, turning to leave. But she pauses, glancing back over her shoulder.
"And Ash?" She says with a pause
I raise an eyebrow, waiting.
"For the love of the Gods," Pyrrha pleads, avoiding my gaze. "Put on some pants."
A laugh bursts out of me, loud and genuine.
"Yeah, yeah. I'll get right on that."
Pyrrha shakes her head, a sly smirk tugging at her lips as she walks away. I watch her go,
still grinning. That's when I realize the entire arena is on me. The students, the professors,
even some of the guests. Some stare in shock, others in awe, and a few can't hide their
sheer disbelief.
And then, the boos erupt.
Its a chorus of disdain echoing through the arena. "Dishonorable worm!" someone shouts.
"Pyrrha deserves better than you, asshole!" another voice chimes in.
Now this is the reaction I'm used to, the one that feels like home.
I take my time making exaggerated mocking bows to all sides of the audience which makes
the boos and shouts of insults more intense.
After that I quickly snatch my clothes from the floor, along with the bands of Gravity Dust. I
deactivate them, coiling them up for easier carrying.
"Yeah, yeah, I hear you," I mutter, slinging my greataxe over my shoulder. I stride towards
the arena's edge, arms wide, bowing once again with a fancy flourish. "Thank you, thank
you, you're too kind."
The jeers grow louder, the crowd's anger palpable. I soak it in, a grim smile stretching my
lips. This is my element, the chaos I thrive in. Before I enter the tunnel I turn, blowing a kiss
to the enraged audience.
"Until next time, losers," I call, walking down the hallway I came from.
As soon as I get to the locker room I see Cardin shaking his head in disappointment, but he
can't hide the smirk on his face.
"You haven't changed one bit."
I shrug, dropping my greataxe onto the bench with a clatter.
"Why mess with perfection?" I say pointing at my abs I'm so proud of.
"Perfection?" Cardin scoffs, crossing his arms. "Is that what you call that shitshow?"
Before he can say more, an automated announcement crackles through the locker room,
cutting him off.
{Student Cardin Winchester, please report to the arena.}
Cardin smirks, cracking his knuckles.
"Time to show how it's done."
He strides towards the corridor I came from, swagger in his step.
"Yeah, yeah," I mutter, snatching my pants from the floor. I shimmy into them, followed by my
boots. As I reach for my shirt, I pause, glancing down at the 'love note' on my body.
A sigh escapes my lips, exhausted and annoyed. Bleiss's handiwork stares back at me,
blood red ink stark against my skin. I'd been in such a rush for the interview with Glynda that
I hadn't noticed what Bleiss had done while I slept.
I shake my head, tugging the shirt over my head. No use dwelling on it now.
What's done is done, and truth be told… I kind of love her freaky tendencies.
"I shouldn't stick my dick in crazy..." I mutter in thought. "But she is so hot! Maybe I can fix
her."
As soon as I'm fully dressed, I sit in the locker room and watch Cardin's fight through the
screen on here.
"Lets see what you got, you ginger cunt." I say as professor Port starts to announce.
{From the proud halls of Vale's oldest lineage, he carries the weight of centuries in his
blood… a scion forged in discipline, loyalty, and unshakable tradition! One of the
fiercest defenders of family honor ever to walk the grounds of Beacon… a relentless
force whose presence commands respect and inspires both fear and admiration!
Prepare yourselves for … CARDIN WINCHESTER!}
Cardin strides into the arena, chin held high, shoulders squared. The crowd roars, their
earlier disdain replaced with thunderous applause.
I watch as Cardin takes his place at the arena's center, his stance wide, his chin jutted out
like he owns the place.
And who knows? Maybe his family does. I wouldn't be surprised if the Winchesters had their
name etched on some fancy plaque in some hall or library, their donations lining Beacon's
pockets.
{But when it comes to family legacies, our next competitor gives the Winchesters a
run for their money! Hailing from a long line of Huntsmen and Huntresses. But that's
not all, folks! For she carries the blood of an ancient and legendary warrior tribe...the
Silver-Eyed Warriors!}
"Wait, what?" I blink, shock rippling through me. "Did he just say silver-eyed warriors in the
open like that? Like is common knowledge?"
{Let's hear it for the young genius who was accepted into Beacon at just fifteen years
old, the one, the only... RUBY ROSE!}
The crowd erupts, screaming and stamping their feet, but I stay glued to the screen, mind
racing.
"I can't believe it? Since when was that public knowledge?" I mutter as I rub my temple,
trying to reconcile Port's casual announcement of what was supposed to be this cryptic,
ancient lore only heard whispered in the shadows.
I mean, sure, Ruby's heritage is an open secret among the inner circles, the professors, and
the council. But to toss it out there like that, to treat it like some flashy tidbit to hype up the
crowd...
I shake my head, baffled. Maybe I'm overthinking it. Maybe it's not such a big deal.
{FIGHT!} Port yells, bringing my attention back to the fight.
Cardin smiles at the little girl, and opens his arms, as usual the ginger is underestimating his
opponent, taunting Ruby to make the first strike.
If the Ruby of today was the same as at the beginning of the original series, she might be
shy or even afraid of being in a place with so many people looking at her at the same time.
I lean forward, eyes glued to the screen, waiting for the cute, shy, klutzy Ruby I know from
the original show. The one who trips over her words as much as her own feet, who blushes
at the slightest provocation on her first day at Beacon.
But the girl staring down Cardin is far from that... she's different. Her eyes, those silver eyes, they're sharp, focused. No trace of nerves, no hint of the
overwhelmed little girl I'd expected. She stands there, calm and collected, her grip steady as
she draws the shifting red and black scythe.
Crescent Rose at least is the same.
Ruby holds it, standing there unflinching, unyielding… almost as if she already knows
exactly how this fight will end.
Cardin's smile widens, a mocking gleam in his eyes.
"Come on, little girl." Cardin taunts her. "Show me what you've got."
Ruby shifts her stance, no hesitation, no tell. Petals start to swirl around her, a dance of red
flowers, hypnotizing in their grace.
"What the...?" I lean in, eyes wide. She hasn't moved, hasn't blinked, but something's
changed. It's like the air around her is alive, pulsing with energy.
Cardin blinks, confusion flickering across his face, but it's too late. Ruby's scythe shifts
pointing the blade behind her back as she shots it.
BOOM!
In a blast of crimson red, Ruby rockets forward, a missile of rose petals swirling like a
tornado. Cardin scrambles, hefting his heavy mace, but it's clumsy, rushed. He's off balance,
unprepared for this sudden storm.
Ruby's Semblance flares, her form a tornado of roses and dust. Cardin braces for impact,
but at the last second, the petals vanish as Ruby crashs at her opponent with all the speed
her inicial shot and Semblance granted her, slincing Cardin.
SWOOSH!
Ruby's strike cleaves clean through Cardin's heavy mace, a sharp clang echoing across the
arena.
But it wasn't just that, the silver-eyed warrior's strike also tore through him as Cardin's Aura
shatters, the barrier flickering out like a snuffed flame. His armor groaned, splitting into two
pieces as a shallow red line across the ginger teenager's chest appeared.
Cardin crashes to his knees, face contorted, screaming tearing from his throat.
"RRGHH-AAAUUHHH-GHHHH!"
It's a raw, ugly sound, more animal than human. Crimson blooms across his chest, stark
against the torn remnants of his armor.
Ruby lands softly, petals settling around her like snowfall. Her expression remains neutral,
not a single hint of emotion. She regards Cardin coolly, scythe resting against her shoulder.
"I'm sorry," she says, voice clear and emotionless. "I didn't know you were so weak."
Professor Port stammers, his voice booming through the arena, {Cardins aura was shattered in a single strike. Victory goes to Ruby Rose!}
I sit there, stunned, unable to tear my gaze away from the screen. Cardin, the arrogant prick
who's made my life hell since day one, is on his knees, defeated. Not just defeated, but
humiliated, his aura shattered, his pride in tatters.
I sink back against the locker, relief washing over me.
"Thank god I didn't have to fight that little silver-eyed demon." I mutter to myself. "This Ruby
is giving off psycho killer vibes."
Suddenly, Port's voice booms through the tv again, echoing through the locker room.
{And now, for the final match of our tournament... it's the battle you've all been waiting
for!}
My stomach drops, a cold sweat breaking out across my skin.
"O fuck!" I blurb, kicking myself for being an idiot.
{The unstoppable force meets the immovable object!}
I push up to my feet, eyes glued to the screen, heart pounding in my chest.
"This can't be happening."
{It's Ruby Rose versus Ash Williams!}
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
***
I stand at the arena, heart slamming against my ribs, eyes locked onto the hooded
silver-eyed girl across the arena. Ruby Rose, the freaking protagonist of this damn world,
doesn't even stare back, the hood covers her face as she is probably cool and collected. Not
a hint of nerves, no trace of fear. Like I'm not even a bug she's about to squash.
And I'm... well, I'm me. The guy who's scraped and clawed his way through life, relying on
brute force and dirty tricks to win.
I have won various championships in the past, but that is mostly due to my opponents being
young and immature and I have been reincarnated with all my memories of my past life. I
doubt I would have beaten Pyrrha if she hadn't been embarrassed about fighting a
half-naked man.
Professor Port's voice booms, getting my attention back into the arena.
{The moment you've all been waiting for! The strongest first-year leaders face off:
Ruby Rose versus Ash Williams!}
The crowd erupts, a tidal wave of sound crashing against my eardrums. I tune it out,
focusing on Ruby. She's small, but I know better than to underestimate her. I've seen what
she can do.
{FIGHT!}
Muscle memory kicks in. I raise Evildead, the massive greataxe, ready to intercept her
attack, but nothing comes.
Slowly, Ruby raises her hand skyward.
I tense, every fiber ready like the girl is ready to unleash a freaking lightning bolt at me. But
no blinding light comes. No thunderclap. Instead, her voice rings out, clear.
"I forfeit."
The arena falls silent as I stand there, axe still raised, mouth agape. Of all the outcomes I'd
imagined, this wasn't one of them.
"W-What did you say?" I stammer, taking a step in Ruby's direction.
Ruby's eyes widen, the mask of the serious silver-eyed warrior shattering. She looks...
scared. Like a little lost girl.
"St-Stay back, you filthy beast." She stammers, voice barely above a whisper.
I falter, grip loosening on Evildead.
"What did you call me?"
I try to take another step, but she stops me shouting.
"You're filth!" she screams, pointing at me. "FILTH!"