The atmosphere inside the Amity Colosseum had shifted from a sporting event to something far more predatory. At the center of the ring, the two teams stood in stark contrast. Coco, the picture of high-fashion lethality, adjusted her designer sunglasses and leaned nonchalantly on her massive handbag. Behind her, the towering Yatsuhashi sat cross-legged on the floor, his eyes closed in deep meditation as he tuned out the roar of thousands.
Opposite them, Emerald and Mercury wore matching grins—sharp, hungry expressions that didn't belong on simple exchange students.
"Emerald and Mercury of Haven! Versus! Coco and Yatsuhashi of Beacon!" Professor Port's voice boomed, drowning out the localized cheering.
Up in the stands, Velvet leaned over the railing, her rabbit ears twitching with nervous energy. "Good luck, you two! You've got this!" she screamed, her voice full of pride for her teammates.
The arena floor began its mechanical transformation. With a series of heavy thuds and the whirring of dust-powered servos, the stage split into four distinct biomes. One quadrant rose into a dense, whispering forest; another crumbled into a desolate city of ruins; the third erupted into a field of steaming, unpredictable geysers; and the final section became a sea of shimmering, waist-high tall grass.
Coco's eyes swept over Emerald, a smirk playing on her lips. "Hey, I've gotta say, kid... I'm loving the outfit. The green really pops."
Emerald didn't miss a beat, her eyes glinting with a dangerous light. "Thanks. I'll try my best not to get your blood all over it."
Yatsuhashi's eyes snapped open. He rose in one fluid motion, reaching behind his back to draw a blade so massive it looked like it belonged on a statue rather than in a man's hands. The steel hummed as it left the scabbard. "I find it hard to believe you'll leave this ring without a single scratch," he rumbled, his voice like grinding stones.
Emerald crossed her arms, her grin widening. "I won't be the one doing the bleeding."
Coco chuckled, clicking her heels. "Oh, I like her! She's got spirit."
"Three... two... one... BEGIN!"
The moment the buzzer sounded, Emerald and Mercury didn't charge. Instead, they performed a synchronized backstep, vanishing into the tall grass field. The swaying stalks swallowed them whole, leaving the Beacon veterans staring at an empty landscape.
Yatsuhashi glanced at Coco, a silent signal passing between them. With a practiced flick of her wrist, Coco's handbag transformed—plates of gold and steel shifting and locking into place until she held a massive, rotating minigun. "Let's mow the lawn," she muttered.
The weapon spun up with a terrifying whine before erupting into a hail of dust rounds. Coco swept the field, the bullets shredding the tall grass into green confetti. The sheer volume of fire was enough to level a building, but as the dust cleared and the grass lay flat, the field was empty.
"Look out!" Blake suddenly screamed from the RWBY section of the stands.
It was a split-second warning. High above the arena, Mercury was plummeting from the sky, having used the cover of the city ruins to launch himself upward. He came down like a meteor, his mechanical leg extended for a devastating dropkick aimed directly at Coco's head.
"Gotcha!" Yatsuhashi roared, stepping in front of his partner. He hoisted his giant blade vertically, catching Mercury's metal boot on the flat of the steel.
The impact sounded like a sledgehammer hitting an anvil. The shockwave rippled through the stage, but Yatsuhashi didn't buckle. He grunted, using his sheer physical power to shove Mercury away. Coco immediately swung her minigun around, letting out a burst of fire, but Mercury was a blur—he hit the ground in a roll and sprinted toward the geyser field, weaving through the bullet trails with the grace of a breakdancer.
"He's good!" Sun shouted, leaning forward in his seat.
Scarlet watched the exchange with narrowed eyes. "Yeah, he's fast... but where's the girl? She disappeared the second the clock started."
In the stands, Ruby's silver eyes were darting across the biomes. She ignored the flashy combat of Mercury, her instincts screaming that something was wrong. Her enhanced vision scanned the forest, the ruins, the shadows—but Emerald was a ghost.
Back on the field, the fight turned brutal. Mercury surged back toward the duo, engaging in a high-speed dance of kicks and parries. Yatsuhashi swung his greatsword in wide, sweeping arcs that should have been undodgeable, but Mercury used the momentum of the swings to vault over the blade, his metal boots clanging against the steel.
At one point, Mercury managed to get inside Coco's guard, his foot nearly snagging the barrel of her minigun to redirect it toward Yatsuhashi. Realizing the danger of her weapon in such close quarters, Coco clicked the release, collapsing the gun back into its handbag form to use as a bludgeon.
Suddenly, a pair of dark, serrated chains lashed out from the treeline of the forest biome. They wrapped around Coco's waist with lightning speed.
"What—?!" Coco gasped before she was violently yanked off her feet, disappearing into the dark canopy of the woods.
"Coco!" Yatsuhashi yelled, reaching out a massive hand, but his distraction cost him.
Mercury capitalized instantly, spinning through the air and delivering a staggering roundhouse kick to Yatsuhashi's jaw. The giant stumbled, but his anger took over. He reached out, his massive fingers locking around Mercury's throat mid-air. With a roar of effort, Yatsuhashi slammed Mercury into the ground and then hurled him bodily across the stage into the geyser field.
Yatsuhashi didn't let up. He leaped high into the air, bringing his sword down in a two-handed overhead smash that promised to end the match. Mercury, lying flat on his back, crossed his legs and used the reinforced soles of his boots to catch the edge of the blade.
The ground beneath them shattered. Cracks spider-webbed across the arena floor as the force of the collision sent a cloud of grit into the air. Mercury grunted, his pistons hissing, and with a sudden, explosive kick, he redirected the blade upward, forcing Yatsuhashi to stumble back to find his balance.
They traded blows—steel against lead—the heavy thud of Yatsuhashi's punches meeting the sharp clank of Mercury's kicks. Mercury was relentless, his style an unrelenting barrage of strikes. He feinted high, then dropped low, sweeping Yatsuhashi's legs before delivering a snapping kick to the giant's face.
The blow sent Yatsuhashi reeling backward, his head landing directly over a dormant vent.
Pshhhhhhh!
The geyser erupted with a violent burst of scalding steam and high-pressure water. The spray hit Yatsuhashi square in the face, blinding him instantly. He let out a pained cry, dropping his sword to clutch at his eyes, stumbling blindly through the mist.
Mercury didn't hesitate. He wound up a final, devastating kick, his boot hissing with built-up pressure as he aimed for Yatsuhashi's exposed temple.
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The impact was violent. The serrated chains yanked Coco through the air with such force that when she finally struck a massive oak in the forest biome, the bark shattered upon contact. She slumped to the forest floor, the breath driven from her lungs in a ragged, painful gasp.
Reeling, Coco reached up to steady her vision, but her fingers met only bare skin and a shallow cut on her cheek. She looked down at the roots of the tree, and her heart sank. There, lying in the dirt, were her signature sunglasses—smashed, the designer frames twisted and the lenses reduced to sparkling shards.
Coco's expression shifted from pain to a cold, simmering fury. She stood up slowly, dusting off her corset, her eyes narrowed and sharp. "I take it back," she hissed into the shadows of the trees. "I don't like her. I hate her."
Suddenly, a flash of green moved through the peripheral of the dense foliage. Emerald materialized from behind a trunk, her dual revolvers, Thief's Respite, barked twice. The muzzle flashes lit up the dim woods. Coco reacted with the instincts of a veteran, diving into a roll as the bullets tore through the leaves where her head had been a second before.
Mid-roll, Coco gripped her handbag. With a series of heavy mechanical clicks, it expanded into its lethal minigun form. She didn't wait to find a target; she simply pulled the trigger. The roar of the weapon was deafening in the enclosed space of the forest. Golden tracers shredded the undergrowth, sawing through branches and pulverizing tree trunks as Coco swept the area in a wide, desperate arc.
"Come out and play!" Coco roared over the chugging of the barrels.
She saw Emerald darting between the trees, a blur of mint-green. Coco tracked her, the hail of bullets following the girl's every move, but just as Coco pinned her down, Emerald seemed to shimmer like a heat haze and vanished into thin air once more.
The firing stopped, the barrels of the minigun glowing cherry-red. "Damn it!" Coco spat, her chest heaving. The silence of the forest was now more terrifying than the noise.
"Coco!"
The voice was unmistakable. It was Yatsuhashi, sounding distorted and frantic, coming from deep within the thicket to her left.
"Yatsu! Watch out!" Coco screamed back, spinning around and searching the canopy. "She's in the trees! She's playing with our heads!"
But as Coco moved to find her partner, a loud, jarring buzzer echoed through the entire Colosseum, vibrating in her very marrow. She froze, her eyes darting upward to the massive holographic scoreboard hovering over the center of the arena.
Her heart stopped. Yatsuhashi's portrait had gone dark, a large red 'X' flashing over his face.
"And with that final, devastating blow, Yatsuhashi is eliminated!" Professor Port's voice boomed, filled with shock. "The giant of Beacon has fallen!"
"What?!" Coco gasped, her voice cracking. "No, he was just—he was just talking to me!"
She spun around, looking for the source of the voice, but there was no one there. The forest was empty. The realization hit her like a physical blow: Emerald had never been in the trees. The voice, the shimmering image—it was all a trick.
Coco's hands began to tremble, her grip on the heavy minigun faltering. The confidence that usually defined her was being stripped away, replaced by a cold, suffocating dread. "Damn it," she whispered shakily, stepping backward into a clearing. "Damn it all."
She never saw the shadow move. Emerald appeared directly behind her, moving with the silence of a ghost. Before Coco could even turn, Emerald delivered a brutal, precise strike to the back of Coco's neck, followed by a kick that sent the fashionista sprawling out of the forest biome and onto the main stage.
Coco slid across the floor, her Aura flickering and then shattering into glowing dust.
"And in an amazing upset, Emerald and Mercury are victorious!" Dr. Oobleck announced, his words coming in a rapid-fire staccato. "The favorites have been dethroned by the newcomers from Haven!"
The crowd's reaction was a chaotic storm—half were booing the brutal efficiency of the Haven duo, while the other half cheered for the underdog victory. In the stands, Velvet had her hands pressed over her mouth, her eyes wide with tears as she stared at her fallen teammates. "Coco...?" she whispered, her voice lost in the noise.
In the midst of the uproar, Cinder sat in her seat, a thin, satisfied smirk playing on her lips. She didn't stay to watch the medics tend to the losers. She stood up gracefully, smoothing out her clothes, and began to make her way toward the exit.
From across the vast distance of the stadium, Ruby watched her go. Her silver eyes were narrowed into slits, her vision tunneling on the woman in red. The uneasiness in the pit of her stomach had grown into a full-blown roar of the beast, a warning that the darkness wasn't just coming—it was already here.
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The setting was one of Beacon's more secluded, formal parlors—a room defined by high vaulted ceilings, polished mahogany wainscoting, and the soft, rhythmic ticking of a grandfather clock. It was a space designed for quiet reflection and high-stakes conversation, far removed from the raucous energy of the festival outside.
Weiss and Winter sat opposite one another at a small circular table, the delicate porcelain of their tea set catching the afternoon light. The steam rising from their cups was the only thing moving between them for a long moment.
"You're... leaving? So soon?" Weiss asked, her voice small, betraying the shock she tried so hard to hide beneath her poise.
Winter took a slow, methodical sip of her tea before setting the cup back onto its saucer with a gentle clink. "Yes," she replied, her tone regaining its professional edge. "My presence was merely a formality to oversee the safe transport of additional Atlesian units to Vale. Our previous shipment was lost during a brazen ambush. I believe you and your team had quite the 'run-in' with its cargo on that highway, actually."
Winter leaned back, her eyes tracking Weiss's reaction. "It is fortunate for you that those Paladins were still in the prototype stage. Had they been the final production models, I suspect your team would not have fared nearly as well. You were lucky, Weiss."
Weiss's gaze dropped to the amber liquid in her cup, her reflection shimmering on the surface. The weight of her sister's critique felt heavy, a reminder of how narrow their victory had truly been.
Seeing the slump in her sister's shoulders, Winter's expression softened. The "Specialist" mask slipped, and the older sister returned. She leaned forward, reaching across the table to lay a gloved hand over Weiss's trembling one.
"Weiss..." she said softly, her voice uncharacteristically warm. "You have done... remarkably well out here on your own. Far better than many expected. You should be proud of the life you've carved out for yourself at Beacon." A small, conspiratorial smirk played at the corners of Winter's lips. "To be entirely honest, it was quite amusing to see Father's face on the day you left. He was... less than pleased to lose his grip on you."
Weiss looked up, a spark of genuine hope in her eyes. "I can't wait to show him everything I've learned. I'll show him that choosing Beacon wasn't a mistake."
"Oh?" Winter raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in her voice. "And what is it, exactly, that you think you've learned?"
Weiss straightened her posture, her confidence returning. "What do you mean? My combat scores are excellent. I'm getting more precise with my Glyphs every day. I've even begun mastering Time Dilation to increase my speed in a fight."
Winter nodded slowly, but her gaze remained piercing. "Impressive. And what of your summoning?"
The pride in Weiss's expression vanished instantly, replaced by a frustrated frown. She pulled her hand back, her fingers curling into a fist. "I... Winter, you know I can't do that yet. I've tried."
"Don't be ridiculous, Weiss," Winter said firmly, though not unkindly. "Every Schnee in our bloodline has the potential to summon. It is the hallmark of our family. We have called upon the foes we've defeated for generations."
"I've tried a thousand times!" Weiss's voice rose, tinged with the bitterness of repeated failure. "It's just... it's the one thing I can't grasp! No matter how much I focus, the Glyph never holds. It just shatters!"
Winter stood up, moving around the table with a grace that was almost ethereal. "We Schnee are unique in the world of Remnant. Unlike almost every other Huntsman, our Semblance is hereditary—it is a gift passed through our blood. But that does not mean it will come without effort."
She held out her hand, palm upward, and a small, intricate white Glyph began to rotate just above her skin, casting a soft glow. "Your Semblance is like a muscle, Weiss. The more you practice with it, the stronger it becomes. It requires discipline, yes, but it also requires vision."
Winter's eyes locked onto Weiss's. "If you only focus on one aspect of your power... if you fail to test the limits of what you think is possible..."
Suddenly, the small Glyph in Winter's hand expanded with a violent, rhythmic hum. It grew larger, glowing with a brilliant, blinding light that forced Weiss to shield her eyes. The air in the room grew frigid, and a low, guttural growl vibrated through the floorboards.
When the light finally subsided, Weiss lowered her arm and gasped. Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in pure, unadulterated awe.
Standing directly behind Winter, its form shimmering with a translucent, icy blue light, was a massive Beowulf. It was a creature made of pure Aura, its fur like frosted glass and its eyes glowing with a calm, subservient power. The phantom beast leaned its head down, and Winter reached back, gently petting the creature's snout as if it were a common hound.
"Then you will never truly grow," Winter finished, her eyes shining with the pride she had for her lineage.
A slow, determined smile spread across Weiss's face. The frustration was gone, replaced by a burning desire to finally master the ghost within her steel.
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The heavy wooden door of Team RWBY's dorm was firmly shut, but the chaotic energy inside was enough to shake the frame. On the floor, surrounded by discarded snack wrappers and tangled controller cords, Yang and Qrow were locked in a digital deathmatch. The flickering glow of the holographic TV illuminated their faces—Yang's set in a grimace of pure focus, Qrow's relaxed with the smug confidence of a veteran.
"You'll never beat me, old man!" Yang shouted, her thumbs moving at a speed that threatened to break the controller. Her character on screen unleashed a flurry of strikes, but Qrow's avatar parried them with agonizing ease.
"Heh, you're nothing but talk, kid," Qrow countered, his voice steady. With a casual flick of the joystick, he triggered a counter-move that sent Yang's character flying off the screen. FINISH HIM flashed in bold, red letters.
Ruby was perched on the edge of Weiss's bed, her knees pulled up to her chest. She watched the light show with a hollow expression, her mind miles away from the pixels on the screen. When the final buzzer sounded signaling Qrow's victory, a small, involuntary laugh bubbled up in her throat. She covered her mouth to muffle it.
"Ouch..." she whispered. "I'm still not entirely sure how you two even got into this, but I can understand the beating. Yang? You suck."
Qrow turned to Yang with a sharp grin, clicking his tongue. "By the way... don't call me 'old.'"
Yang rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up in the air. "Yeah, yeah... ganging up on me, I see how it is." She glanced up at the bed, her purple eyes searching Ruby's face. "You... want to give it a try, Rubes. It's always good for a distraction."
Ruby just shook her head slowly, pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders. "I'm good. You guys keep going."
Yang's smile didn't reach her eyes. She noticed how Ruby was sitting—stiff, guarded, and bundled up in layers despite the warmth of the room. Ever since the fight with Team CFVY earlier that day, Ruby had been retreating into herself, and the protective big sister in Yang was screaming that something was fundamentally wrong.
The silence in the room became heavy, filled only with the hum of the electronics. Qrow broke it by leaning back against a bedpost. "Now, where was I? Before I started schooling your sister in the fine arts of gaming?"
The two sisters looked at him, their curiosity momentarily overriding their worry. "You were telling us about your last mission," Ruby said. She adjusted her sleeves, making sure her wrists were completely covered. Beneath the fabric, she could feel the black veins throbbing. It wasn't just a pulse; it felt like a separate heart beating against her skin, hungry and cold.
"Right, right," Qrow started. "I came across a small village in the swamps west of Mistral. Right off the bat, I knew something wasn't right. The air was too still, the birds weren't singing... it was the kind of place where even the trees looked like they were trying to hide."
"What were you doing there in the first place?" Yang asked.
"Information. It's the most valuable currency there is," Qrow said. "I was exhausted from clearing out a pack of Grimm on the trail, so I decided to start my search at the town's inn. The place was crawling with low-lifes, thugs, and a few rogue Huntsmen who clearly valued Lien over honor. And that's when it happened."
Ruby leaned forward, eyes wide. "What happened? An ambush?"
Qrow's expression turned mournful, his voice dropping to a somber whisper. "I was defeated... by the mere sight... of the innkeeper's skirt length!"
The tension shattered. Yang grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it with the force of a cannonball. Qrow caught it mid-air, laughing heartily as he dodged Yang's subsequent lunge.
"You are the absolute worst!" Yang yelled, though she was grinning now. Ruby laughed too—a real, genuine sound that made Yang feel a momentary sense of relief.
The laughter eventually subsided, and Ruby laid back on Weiss's pristine white sheets, staring at the ceiling. "So, Uncle Qrow..." she started, her voice nearly cracking. It felt so strange, so wonderful, to have him here. After the years of being held captive, the word 'family' still felt like a fragile glass sculpture. "Did you actually get in trouble with Ozpin? For the courtyard thing?"
"Nah. Me and Oz go way back. We're cool," Qrow said, leaning his head back.
"Cool for an old guy," Yang scoffed.
"Not funny, kid. Seriously." Qrow sighed, then looked at Ruby. "So, what are you doing here anyway? I thought Tai said you'd be away on a mission for, like... forever."
"Professional Huntsmen are expected to get results as soon as possible," Qrow said, his tone shifting. He paused, his gaze softening as he looked at Ruby. "And besides... Tai told me everything. About what happened to you, Ruby."
The room went cold. Ruby stayed silent, her heart hammering against her ribs. She looked at her uncle, the man who had taught her how to fight, and nodded slowly. "...So... you know?"
"Let me see," Qrow commanded.
After a moment of hesitation, Ruby slid off the bed and knelt on the floor next to him. Qrow set his controller down and gently took Ruby's wrist. He slowly pulled back the sleeve of her hoodie, revealing the ink-black corruption. The veins had branched out, looking like cracked porcelain filled with shadow, and they were visibly pulsing beneath the skin.
Qrow's jaw tightened. "Does anyone else know?"
"Just my team," Ruby whispered. "And Team JNPR. And Alex... She was there with me. In the lab."
Qrow's grip on her wrist was firm but careful. "Dr. Merlot," he spat the name like it was poison. "He's a slippery bastard. Never stays in the same hole twice."
"You... you know him?" Ruby asked.
"Know him? I've hunted him," Qrow said, his hands curling into fists as he released her. "He's wanted for war crimes, unethical experimentation—you name it. Knowing he put his hands on my niece... yeah, it pisses me off more than I can say."
"Me too," Yang added, her eyes flashing red for a brief second.
Qrow looked Ruby straight in the eye. "Ruby, whatever happens... stay with your team. Your friends. They'll protect you, but you have to trust them. You can't carry this alone."
"I do trust them," Ruby said weakly. But in her mind, she could hear the beast laughing. It was getting stronger, feeding on the very substance Merlot had injected into her. She was terrified that one day, she'd look at her friends and see prey.
"At least we got Roman Torchwick locked up," Yang said, trying to steer the mood toward something positive. "He was working with the Doctor. He's on Ironwood's ship right now, and crime's been down across the board since he got nabbed. It's like we actually finished a bounty mission!"
Qrow looked at Yang and leaned back. "Sure, you're acting like Huntresses, but you aren't thinking like them. You really think four girls and a handful of friends ended all crime in a Kingdom like Vale?"
"I mean... I did until you said that," Yang muttered with a sigh.
"Violence hasn't dropped, Yang. It's stopped. Completely. No White Fang, no Merlot activity, nothing. That isn't a victory; that's a ceasefire. There is a storm on the horizon, but it's hiding in the shadows. That's what Ironwood can't get through that thick, metal head of his."
Ruby climbed back onto the bed, her mind racing. "You know the General personally?"
"I know everyone to some extent, kid. Remember, you're talking to a member of the coolest team to ever graduate from this place." Qrow reached into his pocket and pulled out a weathered, folded photograph. He handed it to the girls.
It was a picture of four young people, glowing with the arrogance of youth. There was a younger Qrow, a bright-eyed Taiyang, and two women. Ruby's breath hitched as she looked at the woman with the white cloak and the kind eyes.
"Mom..." she whispered.
"Hey, that's the same one I have!" Yang exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with instant recognition. "That was the photo from the day Ruby accidentally broke the picture frame."
Ruby looked away immediately, a deep flush of embarrassment creeping up her cheeks. "Yeah... I remember that," she murmured, her voice trailing off. "And I already said I was sorry a million times..."
"Team STRQ," Qrow said, a trace of bittersweet nostalgia in his voice. "That's when I met your parents. We were legends back in the day."
"Legends with crummy fashion sense," Ruby joked, trying to lighten the mood.
"Hey! We looked good! I have a number of inappropriate stories that'll back that up. But," he winked, "I'll save those for when you're older."
Yang's eyes lingered on the second woman in the photo—the one with long, raven-black hair and a red portal-like blade. She looked familiar, almost painfully so, but before Yang could ask, Qrow deftly snatched the photo back and tucked it away.
"Anyway," Qrow said, standing up and stretching his back until it popped. "I'm too old to be hanging out with kids. You're gonna cramp my style."
He walked toward the door, his hand on the handle. He paused, looking back at them, his gaze lingering on Ruby.
"Look. Just remember that you've still got a long way to go. Don't think for a second that graduating means you're done. Every day out there in the real world is worth a week in this school. You two... you're gonna go far." He lowered his voice, speaking directly to Ruby's soul. "But only if you keep learning. And if you never stop moving forward."
With a final nod, he stepped out, the door clicking shut behind him. Ruby stared at the wood, the weight of his words sinking in. Never stop moving forward. Even if the darkness inside her was trying to drag her back.
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In a secluded courtyard of the academy, the air was crisp and laden with the scent of pine, providing a serene yet demanding backdrop for the afternoon's training. Weiss stood at the center of a series of intricate, glowing white circles, her rapier, Myrtenaster, held with trembling precision.
"Excellent form, Weiss! Maintain your focus," Winter commanded, her voice echoing with the authority of an Atlesian Specialist. "Now, reach into your past. Think of your fallen foes—the ones that forced you to push yourself past the girl you were and toward the woman you are becoming. Visualize their strength, their essence. Think of them, and command them to take their place at your side!"
Weiss closed her eyes, her brow furrowed in intense concentration. She tried to conjure the image of the Giant Armor she had faced back in Atlas, the memory that usually defined her strength. She could feel the cold energy of her Aura swirling, trying to take shape, but the connection was frayed. The light of her Glyph flickered, sputtered, and finally shattered into a shower of harmless white sparks.
"I can't do it, Winter," Weiss said, her shoulders slumping as she let out a defeated sigh.
Without warning, Winter stepped forward and delivered a sharp, stinging slap to the back of Weiss's head.
"Stop doubting yourself!" Winter barked harshly.
"Ow! I'm trying!" Weiss cried out, rubbing the spot and looking at her sister with wounded eyes.
"If this is what you call trying, then you have no hope of winning the Vytal Tournament, let alone surviving the life of a Huntress," Winter said, her voice turning cold and clinical. "If you lack the discipline to master your own bloodline, why don't you just pack your bags and move back home? I'm certain Father would be more than happy to give you a nice, safe job as a receptionist."
Weiss's jaw tightened, her pride flaring. "I don't need his charity."
"But you do need his money, don't you?" Winter countered with a sarcastic lilt.
Weiss froze, her gaze dropping to the floor. "How... how did you know?" she asked quietly.
"Lucky guess. I was in a very similar situation when I first joined the military," Winter said, her tone softening just a fraction as she began to pace behind Weiss. "So, what have you done this time to draw his ire?"
"That's the thing. I'm not entirely sure," Weiss admitted, her voice laced with sadness. "I went to pay for a simple lunch the other day, and my card... it didn't work. It was declined in front of everyone."
Winter walked behind her sister, her heels clicking on the stone. "How embarrassing."
"It was! Beyond embarrassing," Weiss snapped, before sighing. "However, the embarrassment wasn't the worst part. What I don't understand is why he would cut me off now, without a word? I've done everything expected of me."
"Perhaps you should stop ignoring his messages and finally call home," Winter suggested.
Weiss's expression darkened at the thought, and Winter stopped her pacing, placing a steady, grounding hand on Weiss's shoulder.
"Weiss, it sounds to me like you have two distinct choices laid out in front of you," Winter said, forcing Weiss to look up at her. "You can either call him, beg for his forgiveness, and explain once more why you insist on studying at Beacon over Atlas to get your inheritance back. Or... you could continue to explore Remnant. Discovering more about the world, and perhaps, more about yourself."
Weiss stayed silent for a long moment, the weight of her sister's wisdom sinking in. She nodded slowly, realizing that her independence had a price she was willing to pay.
Winter smiled softly, but then her expression shifted to something more serious, more inquisitive. "Now then, tell me," Winter started, her eyes narrowing slightly. "What exactly is Ruby Rose?"
The question hit Weiss like a physical blow. Her head snapped up, her heart leaping into her throat. "W... What?"
"I've seen the signs, Weiss. I've seen the way she moves, the unnatural hunger in that girl's eyes when she thinks no one is watching," Winter said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I've seen the shadow she carries. Tell me, sister. What is she?"
Weiss hesitated, her mind racing. She thought of the black veins, the growling beast, and the trauma Ruby had endured at the hands of Merlot. "I... I'm not entirely sure myself," Weiss said carefully. "But... let's just say she had a very... hard childhood. Experiments, things no one should have to see."
Winter nodded slowly, accepting the answer for now. "I trust your judgment, Weiss. I can see how much this girl makes you happy, truly. However... I hope you can still be careful. Power like that is rarely stable."
"Always," Weiss promised.
"Good."
Weiss hesitated for a second longer before she stepped forward and hugged her sister tightly, burying her face in Winter's shoulder. "...I'm scared for her, Winter," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I'm scared of what's happening to her."
Winter went silent, simply wrapping her arms around her younger sister to offer what comfort she could. "I'm sure everything will work out, Weiss."
"You really think so?"
"Yes. I believe so," Winter said, squeezing her one last time.
"Thanks, Winter," Weiss murmured, finally pulling away and wiping a stray tear.
"You're welcome. But now, it's time for me to go."
They stood together for a moment longer before finally separating. "It was really good to see you, Winter," Weiss said.
"Until next time, little sister," Winter replied sincerely.
Weiss watched her sister walk away, her heart feeling both lighter and heavier than before. As Weiss eventually turned to leave the courtyard herself, she was focused on her own thoughts, unaware of the small details around her.
Deep in the grass, just behind where Weiss had been standing, a tiny ladybug crawled slowly along a blade of grass, heading toward a small, discarded ice sword—a tiny, fragmented remnant of Weiss's failed summoning.
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The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky over Beacon Academy a deep, velvet indigo. The chill of the night air was biting, but Weiss remained at the edge of the airfield, her cloak fluttering in the wind as she stood perfectly still. High above, the crystalline lights of the Atlesian transport ship flickered like a dying star as it ascended, gaining altitude before banking toward the frozen north.
Weiss raised her hand, a small, bittersweet gesture, and waved until the silhouette of Winter's ship was nothing more than a speck in the vast expanse of the night. The silence that followed was heavy, leaving her alone with the echoing advice of her sister and the daunting weight of her own future.
Suddenly, the sharp, persistent vibration of her Scroll shattered the quiet.
Weiss flinched, the device buzzing against her thigh like a trapped hornet. She reached into her pocket and pulled it out, the harsh blue light of the screen illuminating her pale features. Her breath hitched. The caller ID didn't need a name—the familiar, cold sigil of the Schnee Dust Company told her everything she needed to know.
It was her father.
She stared at the screen, her thumb hovering over the "Accept" icon. She could almost hear his voice—the commanding, disappointed tone that had dictated the rhythm of her life for seventeen years. He was likely calling to demand her return, to lecture her on the embarrassment of her frozen accounts, or to remind her that she was nothing without the name he provided.
Winter's words echoed in her mind: "You can either call him, beg for his money back... or you could continue to explore Remnant. Discovering more about the world, and more about yourself."
Weiss looked back at the empty sky where her sister had vanished, then back at the glowing device in her hand. The internal tug-of-war lasted only a second. With a steady hand and a newfound sense of defiance, Weiss swiped the screen in the opposite direction.
The call was terminated. The silence returned.
She didn't stop there; she navigated to her inbox, seeing the mountain of unread messages and missed notifications, and decisively locked the screen. She didn't need his charity, and she certainly didn't need his permission to be a Huntress.
A small, genuine smile touched her lips—a smile of true independence. She tucked the Scroll back into her pocket, turned her back on the airfield, and began the long walk back toward the dorms. Her pockets might be empty, but for the first time in her life, her path was entirely her own.