SAPR

by Scipio Smith

Against Such a Moment (New)

Against Such a Moment

"We … we did the right thing, didn't we?" Penny asked. "Telling Professor Ozpin about Amber?"

"Yeah," Jaune said at once. "Yeah, of course. He needed to know. What were we supposed to do, keep it from him?"

"I suppose not," Penny murmured. She clasped her hands together in front of her and looked down at them, rubbing them together a little as she did so. "But he seemed so … so sad. When he believed it, anyway."

"More than sad," Jaune said. "More like … broken."

"His child," Pyrrha whispered.

"Pyrrha?" Jaune asked.

"He called her his child," Pyrrha repeated. "He loved her. He truly loved her, for all that he … used her ill, it was not out of malice in his heart."

"He loved her, but he made her a Maiden, painted a target on her back, made a normal life for her impossible?" Jaune asked. "Some love."

"Parents do not always act in the way that their children would wish," Pyrrha said. "They do not always restrain themselves from putting their own desires and ambitions ahead of those of their children. But it doesn't mean that there isn't love there, although it may sometimes seem that way to the child. As it seemed to Amber herself."

"But just because a parent loves their daughter, it doesn't make them right or mean that they have to be forgiven for the mistakes that they've made," Penny replied. "It doesn't mean that the child isn't right to try and find their own path, to want their freedom."

"At what cost?" asked Pyrrha. She looked at Penny. "Your freedom costs nothing, except perhaps some lien to Atlas and a little embarrassment to General Ironwood. Amber's freedom may cost … a great deal."

Penny nodded. "All the same, I … I don't know if I really want to fight Amber." She frowned. "No, that's not right; I do know: I don't want to fight Amber. I liked her; she was nice. I don't want her to be my enemy."

"No one wants Amber to be our enemy," Jaune said. "But she's chosen to be our enemy. That's what she's decided, that's what she was willing to do, to be free. She's not you; she didn't just decide to follow a dream no matter where it took her and Professor Ozpin and we don't agree with what her dream is. She isn't even me; I could have put people in danger—"

"Jaune," Pyrrha began.

Jaune ploughed on. "But I didn't set out to hurt anyone. Amber deliberately used her semblance on Ruby and left her there, and she would have been killed if we hadn't showed up when we did. Now, I hope that Amber didn't think she was leaving Ruby to get eaten by the grimm, but she obviously didn't care that much. Maybe she never cared about any of us at all."

"I think you do her wrong, to go so far," Pyrrha said softly. "I think that she cared, or at least, I think that the affection that Amber showed to us was genuine. It was simply outweighed by other considerations."

Penny nodded. "I suppose. But I still don't want to fight her. I mean, if we fight her, are we supposed to kill her? Is that what we're going to have to do?"

There was a moment of silence within the elevator, with only the ambient sound of the lift itself grinding its way down the high tower to disturb them.

Pyrrha might have welcomed more sound than that, in truth; she did not want to consider what Penny had said, although it doubtless had to be considered. Killing Amber. Amber's blood upon her hands.

She had never killed anyone before. Or rather … that was probably not strictly true; there had been deaths in battles in which she had taken part, most notably the White Fang during the fight in the tunnel under Mountain Glenn. Just because she hadn't seen the light leave anybody's eyes, just because she hadn't seen their blood upon the edge of Miló, could she really say that she hadn't been responsible for anyone's deaths?

No, no, in all honesty, she could not, but she did not feel responsible, if that made any sense at all; she did not feel as though she had taken life, she did not feel as though she had passed that watershed. It might be an intellectual falsehood, but it did not alter her conscience.

But if she killed Amber, even if she took part in a battle and Amber was dead at the end of the battle although it was technically Penny or Jaune who had struck the final blow, nevertheless, Pyrrha would feel partially responsible. She would feel it in ways that she currently did not.

Pyrrha had always known that it might be necessary to take life in battle — the great stories of Mistral's heroic past were far from bloodless affairs, after all; at times, there were so many slain that rivers were choked with the dead — but to have her first kill, or what felt like her first kill, be someone whom Pyrrha had considered a friend, for all that that friend had betrayed them?

It did not make the prospect any easier to contemplate.

Some deaths would have been easier to look to; some people would have been easier to kill. Pyrrha felt as though she might have killed Cinder gladly at one point, although when the opportunity had finally been within her grasp, she had shrank from it, preferring to hide behind the Valish law and the proper procedures of the kingdom in which she was a guest. Even Cinder, someone who was Pyrrha's enemy, but someone she had fought beside, someone to whom she owed all their lives, had proven difficult in the end.

Pyrrha did not owe Amber her life, but she was a friend.

I suppose what I'm saying is that I would prefer to kill a stranger, someone I did not know and was in no way connected with.

Which I've probably already done, not that it helps to consider taking Amber's life.

The thought of Amber's blood upon her blade, of Amber's eyes looking up at Pyrrha as the light left them, of Amber's face — that sweet, scarred face — slowly going rigid, it wracked Pyrrha's body with a shudder.

Jaune gripped the hilt of Crocea Mors with one hand. "It isn't, or it shouldn't be, easy to … to take a life. And I'm not going to tell you that it'll be fine if we have to … to kill Amber. It won't be. It shouldn't be. But at the same time, it can be, with help, like Professor Goodwitch helped me after our mission at the start of second semester. And what choice do we have? Amber's our enemy now, and we think she's going to give the Relic to Salem. What choice do we have but to fight her with everything we have?"

"If we kill Amber, then all the Fall Maiden's power will pass to Cinder," Pyrrha pointed out.

"And Cinder doesn't know where the Relic is, so we might be better off that way than we are now," Jaune replied. "And anyway, we don't know that's what will happen. That's what Ozpin was afraid would happen, which is why he wanted to transfer the powers to you with that machine, but he didn't know for sure. This has never happened before. For all we know, Amber's half of the powers would go to you or Penny."

If either of us would want them, Pyrrha thought. After all, she could understand why the power of the Fall Maiden having been forced upon her had driven Amber to betray Professor Ozpin and everyone else. It was a heavy burden, to be sure.

Heavy, but at the same time, not without honour; a burden, but at the same time, a great privilege if one desired it. To be chosen was to be thought well of, to possess it was to have many great examples to live up to — and some less praiseworthy examples to avoid — and although it cast one into a great and everlasting struggle, that was less of a hardship if one was already committed to such a struggle, albeit in a different form.

Did Pyrrha desire the power? Not at any cost, no, but would she pick it up if it lay by the wayside, with her eyes open and in full knowledge of what it would entail? Yes. Yes, she would.

Would she pick them up at the cost of Amber's life? Amber might have her own opinions on that particular question, opinions which would carry as much weight as Pyrrha's own.

Falling leaves. Autumn leaves falling like rain.

Amber dreamt last night she dined with Professor Ozpin, and how likely is that now? Amber and I both had a bit of supper go down the wrong way, that's all.

But I dreamt that I would triumph in the tournament, and I did.

And then I dreamt that I would offer up all my glories in sacrifice to the Fall Maiden.

Pyrrha felt a chill in her heart; she had thought, if the dream meant anything, that it must mean Cinder was fated to be her destroyer, and so she had taken comfort from the knowledge that Cinder had been defeated and caged. She had never considered that it might be Amber that she dreamt of, that Amber might be the one fated to defeat her.

Amber was not without some skill, although Pyrrha would have said, not unkindly but nevertheless, that Amber lacked the heart to use her skill to its fullest. Had she been but Amber, then Pyrrha would not have feared the skill that she possessed — she might be more technically proficient than Cinder, she appeared on Pyrrha's brief examination to have been better trained, but while Cinder fought with a wild abandon that would do discredit to a gutter thug, she also fight with a tiger's heart and a ferocity that animated her natural speed and strength — but the fact was that she was not just Amber. She was also the Fall Maiden, possessed of great magical power.

Maidens have been defeated before, for good or ill.

And we have beaten Cinder when she deigned to use her powers.

But Sunset was with us then, and Ruby.

Shorn of those allies and facing an enemy who was not alone — for they must expect at least Dove to be with her — would the three of them be sufficient?

Pyrrha looked at them, Jaune and Penny, her companions in the elevator and her companions in battle.

Her love and her dear friend besides.

Let me not mourn that I do not go into battle alongside all that I might wish; let me rather rejoice that I do not go into battle alone, but with some of those most dear to me.

Alright, Weiss, I will concede it: I really am very fortunate indeed.

The corners of her lips turned upwards in a smile.

Jaune must have caught it out of the corner of his eye, for he said, "A fine time to smile, Pyrrha."

His tone was light, but Pyrrha felt reproached nevertheless, and justly so. "I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I was just…"

"What?" asked Penny.

"It's nothing, really."

"I don't think you'd smile at nothing," Penny pointed out. "Not now."

Pyrrha sighed. "I was just thinking that, if we must face Amber, to whatever outcome, then I'm glad we'll be doing it together. I was thinking that, instead of regretting that not everyone is with us whom we might like, we should be grateful that some of us we would want are here."

She felt Jaune's hand slip into hers, their fingers interlocking.

"I guess you're right," Penny said. "I wouldn't want to do any of this without you, all on my own. But maybe we won't have to fight Amber; maybe General Ironwood will tell us to do something else."

"General Ironwood shouldn't be the one telling us what to do," Jaune muttered. "Ozpin should."

Penny blinked. "I thought you didn't like Professor Ozpin very much."

"I'm not crazy about the guy, not anymore, but he's still supposed to be in charge!" Jaune declared, his grip on Pyrrha's hand tightening just a little. "He's the headmaster and the leader of this fight against Salem; where does he get off just standing up there, staring out the window, telling us to go and talk to General Ironwood as though he doesn't give a damn anymore?"

"I think he's upset," Penny pointed out.

"We're all pretty upset," Jaune replied. "But you don't see us moping around!"

The elevator came to a halt, and the doors opened upon the lobby, with its soft green lights and otherworldly, all-too-peaceful feel.

There was still no sound from the grimm outside. Assuming that they were still outside, but it would be foolish to imagine they had gone.

"Whatever else we do," Pyrrha said, "our first task will be to fight our way out of this tower."

"But we should talk to General Ironwood first," Penny said, getting out her scroll, "and ask him what we should do. I hope he's not too busy to answer."

"He needs to know about Amber," Pyrrha said. "Especially since Professor Ozpin seems … no longer capable of doing anything at present."

Penny nodded as she opened up her scroll; her finger flicked across the screen, tapping lightly here and there like a dancer leaping across the floor. She pulled back her hand, closing it into a fist as she waited.

It was not a long wait before they all heard General Ironwood's voice.

"Penny?" he said. "Is something wrong?"

"Y-yes, sir, it is," Penny said. "I'm afraid that it looks like what Cinder told us about Amber is true."

There was silence on the other end of the line. Pyrrha wondered if General Ironwood would be as sceptical about that as Professor Ozpin had been.

"And what makes you think that, Penny?" General Ironwood asked calmly.

"We found Ruby unconscious in our dorm room," Penny said. "It looked like Amber's semblance had put her to sleep."

Again, silence, or at least a pause from the general, before he said. "I see. That's … unfortunate, but it's also more Professor Ozpin's business than mine. You should inform him and—"

"We did inform him, sir," Penny said quickly. "But he told us that you were in charge and that we should ask you for our orders."

"Did he?" General Ironwood asked, in a curt tone. "Is that all?"

"Um … he was quite upset, sir," Penny said softly.

Once more, a silence. Seconds passed. General Ironwood said, "You say 'we'; are Miss Nikos and Mister Arc with you?"

"Yes, sir."

"And Miss Rose?"

"Still unconscious, sir," Penny said. "We left her with Professor Ozpin."

"Understood," General Ironwood. "Make a cursory search of the grounds for Amber and any confederates; if you can't find her in the school, or if you find evidence that she has left the school, then join the defence of the evacuees. Present yourselves to Dash for more detailed instructions. I'm afraid we can't afford to have a good team standing idle under the present circumstances; we need everyone on the dancefloor now."

"Yes, sir," Penny said. "I understand."

"Good luck," General Ironwood said, although what he might consider good luck — finding Amber, or not finding her — he did not say. "Ironwood out."

Penny snapped her scroll shut and put it away. "Do you think we should go to the Vault first? Check if Amber did go to get the Relic?"

"If she went to get the Relic straight away, then we're already too late," Jaune replied. "And besides, would she go there first thing?"

"When better?" Pyrrha asked. "In the chaos of the battle, she could slip away unnoticed."

"Or she could get caught, and there'd be a lot of people around to try and stop her," Jaune replied.

"Why would the grimm attack the school, if not to provide cover for Amber's escape and theft of the Relic?" asked Pyrrha.

"Her escape, yes," Jaune said. "I think that's why, so that she could slip away from everyone while they were preoccupied, but the Relic? If Amber went back to the Vault for it now, then she'd have to leave through the middle of the battle; it's a big risk. I think … I think we should check Benni Havens' for her; it sits right by the exit, if Amber left Beacon, then someone might have seen her, and if they haven't, we can ask Benni to keep an eye out for her while we search the rest of the school, or as much as the grimm will let us."

"That makes sense," Penny said, nodding her head up and down. "Okay, we'll go there first."

"Second," Pyrrha murmured. "First, we need to get out of this tower."

"Right," Penny agreed. "But since we have a job to do, we'll try and cut through them and get away. They might not follow us away from the tower, the same way they didn't follow us inside."

"What do you think they're doing?" Jaune asked. "They don't seem to want people getting in, but once they're in, then they won't follow them?"

"If they destroyed the tower, it would be catastrophic," Pyrrha murmured. "The kingdoms would lose the ability to communicate with one another. Perhaps … perhaps Salem appreciates having the ability to communicate with her agents in the field."

"She could use that grimm thing from Mountain Glenn, right?" Jaune asked.

Pyrrha shuddered at the memory. "Perhaps her servants find that as unpleasant as we did, and she does not like to burden them unduly."

"I suppose it doesn't matter why they do all the things that they do," Penny said. "It only matters what they do. Pyrrha, will you go first out the door, then Jaune, and I'll bring up the rear." Floating Array emerged out from behind her but did not spread out; Penny kept the blades tight together, presumably so they would fit through the door.

"Of course," Pyrrha said, pulling Miló and Akoúo̱ over her shoulders. Miló was in spear form, and she drew it back as she approached the door.

She could hear Jaune draw Crocea Mors behind her and heard his scabbard click as it unfurled into his shield.

"Is everyone ready?" Pyrrha asked.

"I'm ready," Jaune said.

"Combat ready," declared Penny.

"Very well then," Pyrrha said and pushed the button beside the door to unlock it.

She wrenched the door open with a touch of Polarity and burst through, with Jaune and Penny hard on her heels.

The grimm were still there, and at least some of them were watching the doors, because as soon as the three came out, a warning howl sounded through the air.

The grimm drew back. They did more than draw back; they parted, opening a channel through their midst, a clear and unobstructed route out of the square.

The beringel who had been so eager to throw things at Pyrrha gestured to that same open channel, making a snuffling sound as he did so.

Pyrrha stood still, and felt the others doing likewise behind her. She wasn't quite sure what was happening. Or rather, she was sure what was happening but couldn't make any sense out of it. It was one thing to say that the grimm might not pursue them away from the tower, but another to not even try to attack them around the tower.

And yet, they did not. The grimm were silent, not a roar or a growl or a snarl to be heard. They all watched the huntsman and huntresses, their red eyes gleaming in the darkness, but not a single one made any move towards them.

Will they be so placid under attack? Pyrrha thought.

Penny must have had the same thought, because she stepped away from Jaune and Pyrrha so that she had a clear shot at the beringel. Her swords, the blades folded into their laser configuration, assembled in front of her chest and began to charge, a green glow brightening at the tips of each carbine.

The beringel grabbed a beowolf, which yelped as the bigger grimm threw it at Penny. Pyrrha leapt on her — using her body instead of her semblance — and shoved Penny aside, bearing them both to the ground as the beowolf flew over them and struck the tower wall with a thump.

Jaune stepped quickly forward and finished it off before it could get up.

The beringel grunted insistently as it once more gestured towards the open path and away from the square.

Pyrrha got up. "What should we do?"

Penny, likewise, got to her feet. "If they're not going to stop us, then we should just leave; we'd just be wasting time if we started a fight."

"Alright," Pyrrha agreed quietly, but she kept her weapons in her hands, and Akoúo̱ in particular raised to ward off any approaching blow as she led the way.

The path was not wide at any point, and the grimm who lined the path were never far away. The beowolves, sat upon their haunches, followed the three with their gazes, heads turning as they passed by. Pyrrha could hear them sniffing at the air.

But they did not bark or growl or bare their teeth more than fangs were already bared by the absence of lips. They simply watched, a whole assembly of silent grimm watching them.

It felt like flight. It didn't matter how Pyrrha tried to keep her back straight, her head up, it didn't matter how she tried to walk so that her sash would sway proudly back and forth at her side, it still felt like running away. And the closer they got to the end of the path, the more grimm were behind them than ahead, the more it felt like flight, like they were running away with their tails between their legs.

Perhaps they were.

But if they were, at least they were running towards something.

---

Rainbow blasted the last beowolf in the face with Undying Loyalty, then looked around to check that it really was the last beowolf.

Satisfied that it was, for now, she started reloading.

After only a short while, the grimm's strategy had become clearer: they were not trying to break through, but rather grind through. In the centre, and on the right — because they had lapped around the courtyard and were coming at the docks from the side — there had been no mass attack, only a succession of small scale, piecemeal assaults, as small groups of grimm assailed parts of the defence: a pack of beowolves had tried to get into the dorm rooms, clawing their way into or up the building; a trio of ursae had been found and killed in the amphitheatre, only for four more of them to show up and try to retake the building; a group of creeps had come up out of the ground between the courtyard and the fairgrounds; an ursa major had led a mixed group of grimm into the dining hall just as another group of beowolves had flanked around the building to come at the courtyard itself; griffons had swooped down on the docking pads and the road between there and the courtyard. At first, Rainbow had thought that these small attacks, none of them huge in number, all of them repulsed, had been reconnaissance in force by the grimm trying to work out the enemy strength and deployment. She had expected that, having done that, the grimm would then concentrate their assault on one particular spot, the spot that they believed to be the weakness of the line.

Well, they were doing that, but not in the centre or on the right, no, the piecemeal attacks were the point; they were constant nibbles at the huntsmen and huntresses lined up against them, incessant bites that didn't take huge chunks out of the huntsmen, but were making them bleed a little bit at a time. Nobody had died, but they had had aura breaks and injuries: Team ABRN had lost Nadir Shiko with his aura broken and a nasty set of claw marks across his chest; Sabine's aura had been broken too, but being a stubborn ass, Sabine was refusing to go anywhere and was staying with her team; Yatsuhashi, the big guy from Team CFVY, had taken a nasty blow to the head. Rainbow had sent the wounded and the aura-less to the docking pads — those that would go, Sabine — if they only had no aura, they could wait there for their aura to recharge or help with the defence in the last resort. If they were wounded, then they were getting on — or being carried on — an airship up to the Amity Arena, where a proper medical team had set up a triage centre, with flights to the medical frigate Comfort taking place for serious cases.

But even the aura breaks weakened the defence when the next assault came, no larger than the one before, but then it didn't need to be larger if the defence was weaker, and they certainly weren't giving the defenders a long respite between assaults. The individual attacks were small, but the tempo was rapid.

And all the while, the main assault on the left flank ground forwards.

As much as the grimm might want or hope to bleed the centre and right so much that they collapsed, it was on the left that they had concentrated their forces, and they were continually pushing forwards into the fairgrounds, while Violet continually asked for reinforcements to bolster the defence.

It wasn't all bad news, by any means: Yang had taken the docking pads and was holding them, meaning that the airships were landing and the evacuations were taking place. Frightened civilians; crying children; cosplayers of all ages; dishevelled tourists with wide eyes absent-mindedly holding onto souvenirs or candy floss as though they simply hadn't had time, in all the confusion, to think to drop them; they were all being passed from the fairgrounds to the courtyards and then on to the docking pads where the airships landed. Sometimes, the flow would stop, backing up where one part or other of the line came under attack as everyone became reluctant to get too close to the grimm; when the passage to the docking pad was assaulted, people would stay in the courtyard; when the courtyard was attacked, they built up in the space between there and the fairgrounds; then, when the attack was over, everyone would start to move again.

It was the advantage to the grimm's strategy; if they'd attacked everywhere at once, they could have paralysed the whole system or forced people to take their chances running the gauntlet of the grimm.

As it was, they were getting people off, but there were still people coming in from the fairgrounds even as the grimm pressed hard there, and a queue building up at the docking pads as people arrived faster than the airships could get them airborne.

Rainbow turned in the direction of the fairgrounds and shouted, "It's clear!" She waved with one hand for good measure.

After a short while, a group of people stumbled into the courtyard. There were eleven of them: three children and eight adults. One of the children had accessorised a Weiss Schnee snowflake T-shirt with a rainbow wig, thus proving that she had more sense than a fair few adults had possessed at the start of this tournament.

A woman with her pointed to Rainbow and Blake. "You see? There they are. It's just like I told you: they're going to save us, like they saved everyone at the mines."

"Keep moving," Rainbow instructed them. "Once you reach the docking pads, just wait patiently, and an airship will pick you up as soon as possible to take you up to the Amity Arena."

She turned her back on them as they shuffled along.

Rainbow took a step towards the plinth where the statue of the huntsman and huntress had once stood, or to where the statue of the beowolf now stood radically recontextualised, as Spearhead might have had it, by the absence of the rest of the piece, and said, "Violet, how much longer do you estimate before everyone's evacuated from the fairgrounds?"

"I don't know," Violet said sharply, her voice emerging out of Rainbow's scroll. "It's not like I can spare anyone to round people up."

"How bad is it?" asked Rainbow.

"We're being flanked," Violet said. "The grimm are curling around left of the fairgrounds and coming in from the side as well as in front; I'm worried they'll work their way fully around and we'll be mostly encircled. I need reinforcements."

Rainbow breathed in between her gritted teeth. Reinforcements. This wasn't the first time in the short battle that Violet had asked for reinforcements; the fairgrounds had become the maw that was devouring their strength. Yang's company had been stripped for parts in order to reinforce the fairgrounds, and Rainbow had sent what she could as well. Rainbow had been strengthened at first by huntsmen and teams coming in from other parts of the school, heading towards where they saw the airships land: Ditzy had come in, and Rainbow had sent her to the fairgrounds; she'd sent a Beacon team down there too, led by a guy named Jack, and others besides. Violet now commanded the greatest concentration of their forces, and it still wasn't enough.

And Rainbow was running out of reinforcements.

She looked around the courtyard. There was one team there, Beacon's Team ONYX, plus Blake, Ciel, Rarity, and Rainbow herself. The most that Rainbow could send from there would be Blake or Ciel.

"Yang," Rainbow said. "Can you—?"

"No!" Yang said firmly, almost shouting. "No, I cannot. I'm holding the docking pads with just me, Ren, and Nora; there is no one else!"

"Calm down, I had to check," Rainbow said. She exhaled.

Blake took a step towards her. Her mouth opened—

Rainbow held up one hand to stop her before she could say 'I'll go.' Rainbow might end up sending her anyway, but once she said it, then it would be difficult not to send her, and Rainbow kind of wanted to keep Blake in her back pocket in case of a real emergency — not that Violet didn't need assistance in the fairgrounds, but it didn't sound like the grimm had broken through yet.

Perhaps I should pull people out of the buildings and focus on a tighter defence of the courtyard?

Some of the arguments for occupying the outer buildings stood, most notably the fact that the grimm couldn't launch any sneak attacks on the courtyard from them, but against that was the fact that they weren't completely stopping the grimm from reaching the courtyard, even if they had to do it across more open ground, and they were tying up several good teams like WWSR who could otherwise have reinforced the fairgrounds. It was a balancing act, and Rainbow might have landed on the wrong side of the scales.

"Midnight," she said quietly. "Put me on mute and contact General Ironwood."

"Patching you through, Rainbow Dash," Midnight said. There was a brief pause before she huffed, "I feel like a secretary."

"What did you think you were going to be doing?" Rainbow demanded.

"I thought I'd be advising you as we stormed across maps to complete your objectives."

"You've been watching too many video game let's plays," Rainbow muttered. "Have you put me through yet?"

"Dash," General Ironwood said. "What's the situation?"

"We're holding sir, but it feels touch and go sometimes," Rainbow replied. "Sir, can you assign more air units to the interdiction effort? The grimm are still being reinforced and we're being stretched thin."

"It looks like the grimm are gearing up to hit Vale, Dash; I can't redeploy too much," General Ironwood replied. "But I'll find another squadron to support Guardian."

"Thank you, sir," Rainbow said. "I don't suppose you could find an infantry company and some more airships to speed up the evacuation as well?"

"I can drop some androids to support you, Dash; that's the best I can offer."

"I'll take that, sir," Rainbow said. I'd take anything at this stage. "Drop them in the fairgrounds; that's where the grimm are pushing hardest."

"I'll have them dispatched at once. How long until evacuations are complete?"

"Hard to say, sir; we haven't had a chance to take a headcount."

"The Knights should relieve enough pressure to assign someone to it," General Ironwood said. "We need to clear the school before we start bombing the grounds; I don't want any civilian casualties."

"Yes, sir, thank you, sir," Rainbow said. "Dash out." She paused. "Midnight, put me through to the other students again."

"Such a trying task," Midnight drawled. "Not. All done!"

"Violet," Rainbow said, without responding to Midnight's grumbling. "The Atlesians are about to start dropping Knights on your position; that should take some of the pressure off. And I'm going to contract the perimeter around the courtyard to free up more teams, but you have to get someone to do a run around the fairgrounds and round up all the strays; we need to get people out quicker; we can't just rely on them working out where to go."

"Okay," Violet said. "Once those robots turn up, and they'd better show up fast, I'll get someone on it."

"Have Ditzy do it; she's got a nice face," Rainbow suggested. "Did you hear that, Ditzy?"

"Yeah, that was really kind of you to say, Rainbow Dash," Ditzy declared. "I won't let you down!"

"Be on the lookout for any lost children; they might be hiding while they wait for their parents to come back," Rainbow advised. "Weiss, I need you to pull Team Wisteria back to the courtyard."

There was no response.

"Weiss, I need you to fall back to the courtyard, acknowledge."

Still no answer.

"Blake," Rainbow said. "Get to the main school building, find everyone, and get them out and back here on the double. And … save them, if they're in trouble."

---

"So Amber already left?" Jaune asked.

Benni Haven nodded. "Yeah, she told me that she was scared, because of the battle, and her friends were escorting her away. Said that Professor Ozpin had told them to take care of her. I'm surprised that he didn't tell the three of you that." She paused. "Well, maybe not that surprised. He was always kinda … never the friendliest guy. I know he was the headmaster and I was just a student, but he never felt like someone you could approach, you know? I always went to Professor Goodwitch when I was in trouble."

"You say that Amber's friends were escorting her," Pyrrha said. "You mean Dove?"

"Dove, Lyra, Bon Bon," Benni said. "And someone else, too, someone I hadn't seen before. Tall, reddish hair all stuck up in a mohawk. Stuck up in other ways, too, looked like she had a smell under her nose."

"That sounds like Tempest Shadow from Team Tsunami!" Penny cried.

"Sounds like you know her," Benni observed mildly. "But yeah, they were all with Amber, and after we'd spoken and I'd given them a little something to eat, they took the road headed for Vale. I tried to tell them Vale wasn't any safer than Beacon right now, and that they were welcome to stay in here and wait with everyone else, but they wouldn't have it. I guess I can't blame her much; we're safe, but we're still kinda close to the grimm."

"Yes," Pyrrha murmured. "Are you sure that you're alright here? I mean, are you sure that you want to stay?"

Benni smiled wryly at her. "I've put everything I had into this business: my money, my time, my sweat, everything; since I quit hunting, this place has been my life. This is my place, with my name on it, and I'm not gonna let some beowolf chase me out of it without a fight! Without it, I'm just a washed up ex-huntress with one arm gone and nothing to her name." The tip of her tail curled inwards. "And anyway, I couldn't just leave all the pictures on the wall to get broken, trampled, chewed up. All my boys and girls deserve better than that."

Pyrrha thought of their own picture on the door, broken and trampled if not chewed up, and found that she could understand Benni's reasoning, whether it was correct or not. "You're a very brave woman."

"Nah, I'm just a small business owner; they teach this attitude in vocational training," Benni said lightly. She paused. "You know … you know what I'm afraid of? I'm afraid that when the morning comes, there'll be some more kids who are only remembered from the pictures on my wall. Like Sky."

Pyrrha didn't say anything. What was there to be said? It was a possibility, to be sure, and to deny it would have seemed naïve, patronising at worst. Benni knew the score as well as anyone, and probably better than some.

"I hope not," Penny said.

Benni snorted. "We all hope that, kid," she said, not unkindly. "I guess it's a relief that Amber got out when she did, huh? Something less for you to worry about?"

"Yeah," Jaune said. "That's right. Thanks for telling us."

"No problem," Benni said. "I'd offer you something, but I doubt you'd have time to eat it."

"No, I don't think they, I mean we, would," Penny replied. "It's very kind of you, but we should be going now."

"Come back when all this is over; I want to make sure you're still here," Benni said. "Give 'em hell out there."

"We'll do our best," Jaune promised.

Benni nodded, and there was a smile on her face as she stepped back inside her restaurant — she had just stepped out the door to speak to them — and closed the door behind her. The bell tinkled.

"You were right," Pyrrha said. "Amber did leave."

"With Bon Bon and Tempest Shadow," Jaune said. "So Cinder was right about all of them."

"Cinder didn't mention Lyra," Pyrrha pointed out.

"She didn't mention Dove either; he's doing it for love," Jaune replied. "Maybe Lyra's doing it for the same reason. Maybe they don't know what's really going on."

"Maybe," Penny agreed. "It doesn't matter now anyway. We've got our orders from General Ironwood: since Amber's gone, we need to find Rainbow Dash and see how we can help."

---

The corridor was quiet.

Quieter than it had ever been on a school day when Team WWSR and their fellow students had moved with varying levels of speed and enthusiasm to their various classes. Whether they crawled along like slugs to Professor Port’s Grimm Studies or walked with higher spirits to Doctor Oobleck’s History class — Weiss had liked it, even if none of the rest of her teammates had — there had always been a certain level of ambient noise that came from the mixture of the chatter of the students, the sound of so many feet moving along the corridors in nothing that even approached unison. There were times when you got used to the noise, when you learned to tune it out, when you stopped really hearing Lyra’s poetry or Pyrrha’s soft chuckles or Sunset holding forth in a voice that was louder than it needed to be; there was a time when you didn’t hear Blake talking passionately — it didn’t matter what she was talking about; Blake always talked passionately — or Yang and Nora competing to see who could laugh the loudest or Dove passing Lyra and Bon Bon the answers for yesterday’s homework. You learned to stuff your ears selectively, so that you could only hear what Flash or Cardin or sometimes Russel was saying.

Weiss had learned to tune out the other sounds, or else, she would never be able to think straight.

But at the same time, she missed them now that they were gone.

They were gone now. The corridor was silent save for the echo of their footsteps.

Team WWSR advanced in single file, with Flash leading the way, then Weiss, then Russel, with Cardin bringing up the rear. The corridor they were heading down led to and then beyond Doctor Oobleck’s classroom. Having left Team APDT guarding the door out from the school building into the courtyard, Team WWSR was sweeping the building for any survivors. Apparently, when the grimm attack began, people had taken shelter in the buildings; considering that the attack had opened with a descent by airborne grimm upon them, that made sense. It had made less sense when the ground grimm arrived; these walls weren’t going to keep out ursai or even beowolves. But in the confusion of the fighting so far, it wouldn’t be surprising if there weren’t some people still sheltering here.

Assuming that the grimm hadn’t reached them first.

If they had, then WWSR couldn’t help them, but if they were still alive, then WWSR would find them.

And then, if possible, they would secure the fire exit and prevent any grimm from entering the building on the ground floor, never getting out onto the other side.

Beacon’s Team GRAY were taking the upper floor, where the offices of the professors were, while Team WWSR had the ground floor, which was much larger due to the size of the various classrooms, with their theatre-like arrangement of banks of seats climbing up the wall.

There were only two floors despite the size of the building; only two floors where the grimm could get in.

So far, they had seen a few grimm, and slain a few besides; they had been griffons, strangely, despite the relative lack of room to fly even in the classrooms; they had found a trio of them in Professor Port’s classroom, squabbling over the polished bust of the professor himself. In the process, they had done a considerable amount of damage to the room, but then Team WWSR had done a considerable amount of damage to them.

They had come across no more grimm, although it seemed that they had been here at one point and that Team WWSR were not the first to have ventured here to try and fight them off: sections of the corridor walls were demolished, and there were small fires burning here and there — they did not seem to have in any danger of spreading, thankfully — as well as detritus strewn out of the smashed up rooms.

No bodies, thank gods. If there had been a battle here, there was no evidence that it had cost anyone their lives. There wasn’t even any blood on the floor.

"We just lost scroll signal," Russel said in a hushed whisper. "Completely gone, dead."

"What are you checking your scroll for?" Cardin asked quietly, leaning forwards.

"'Cause I heard that the classrooms have scroll jammers in them to stop us from messing around on our scrolls in class, and I wanted to know if we lost signal," Russel replied. "We can't call for backup now."

Weiss considered that it might only be Russel's scroll that had lost its signal — that shouldn't happen, but these things could be temperamental at times and sometimes behaved in ways that didn't make sense on first glance — but a quick check of her own scroll before she put it away showed that he was quite right: she had no signal either.

"A signal jammer in a classroom sounds a rather draconian step to take," she observed quietly. "But why would it be on now, of all times? Who would have turned it on?"

Russel shrugged. "Maybe it came on by itself."

"Things don't just—"

Flash shushed them. "I think I hear something."

They all fell silent, listening intently.

Weiss heard it too: a groan coming from ahead, from inside Doctor Oobleck's classroom if she was hearing it correctly.

"Go!" she hissed, and they quickened their pace, Flash still leading the way, with Rho Aias held protectively before him and Caliburn in spear mode drawn back for an underarm thrust.

Weiss held Mytenaster lightly in one hand, with fire dust in the chamber and a black glyph in her mind, ready to conjure it in case she needed it to protect her team from a sudden attack.

Their footfalls continued to echo down the corridor, the echoes mingling and merging with one another as they moved more swiftly, occasionally being drowned out by the groaning of the person they were coming to help.

There was no sound of any grimm, no growls or snarls that indicate that this person, whoever they were, was being menaced or tormented. Only the groans of pain.

Team WWSR burst into Doctor Oobleck's classroom; the door had been ripped off its hinged and tossed into the corridor, and they all leapt over it before they rushed through the open doorway to see a dead body lying on the floor in front of Doctor Oobleck's desk, in the space where the doctor had been wont to zip here and there lecturing them upon history or fairy tales.

Now, a body lay there, utterly still, never to move again. He was a young man, wearing the grey and white school uniform of Atlas Academy, with light brown hair cut short on the back and sides, a little like Cardin; a gun, Weiss thought it might be a laser, lay on the ground next to him.

Clearly, he wasn't the one making the noise. So then—

The groan came again, and Weiss realised that it was coming from above them.

She looked up. They all looked up. There, hanging from the rafters by one leg, was another Atlas student in the grey and white. Like his comrade down on the floor, he wasn't moving; Weiss might have thought him dead too if it weren't for the soft sounds that he was making.

"Flash, guard the door," she said. "Russel, search the room. Cardin, wait there."

For herself, Weiss conjured up a white glyph a foot or two off the floor and hopped onto it. Then she conjured up another, and another, a stairway of silver-white platforms leading her upwards towards the ceiling of the classroom, where the student hung.

He had floppy blond hair that dangled downwards, leaving his face exposed where ordinarily it would have shielded it like curtains. The face it left exposed was bruised and swollen and smeared with blood, as were his clothes.

Russel, who had climbed up the steps to check the rows of seats that climbed upwards, stopped, looking at something behind the left bank of desks. "There's another body here, an Atlas girl."

The young man hung from the ceiling groaned again, as if the reminder of his comrade pained him. Weiss looked at the string that held him, and it was only a string, a very thin cord to take somebody's weight. Her eyes followed the string over the ceiling beam and then back down again to a brass hook on the wall that was used to restrain the curtains; the other end of the string had been looped around it.

Weiss thrust Myrtenaster into the sash at her waist. She reached out and placed both hands upon the bloody, beaten Atlas boy.

"Cardin," she said. "Take that string off the hook. But do it gently."

She couldn't see what Cardin was doing, but he must have done what she asked because the Atlas boy — gently — lowered down into her waiting arms. Weiss placed him over her shoulder as she hopped down her stairway of white glyphs, each glyph dissolving behind her, until she jumped back down to the floor.

"He needs medical attention," she announced as she set him down on the floor. "Russel, get him to safety and then come back here and rejoin the rest of us."

"Who put him up there in the first place?" asked Cardin, walking back towards them from the far side of the classroom. "Did a grimm do that?"

"He didn't put himself up there or put those injuries on his face," Weiss observed. "And I doubt he killed his own teammates either."

"Even if a grimm could, why would a grimm do that?" asked Russel as he descended the steps. "Why not just kill him like it killed the other two?"

An enormous hand, thick and black, punched through the front wall of the classroom to engulf Flash before he could respond. Fingers thicker than Weiss' waist engulfed him pulling with a yelp through the hole in the wall.

"Flash!" Weiss cried, drawing Myrtenaster from her waist once more, firing two blasts of fire dust in quick succession at the wall. To follow Flash through the hole the grimm had made would be foolish, but Doctor Oobleck would forgive her for blowing a second hole which, though it burned at the edges, she could fly through on the line of sliver-white glyphs she conjured up, gliding over them, through the smouldering hole and into the next room.

It was Doctor Oobleck's private office, a lot of old books with leather bindings strewn haphazardly everywhere and historical curios like the old relics you could find in the Emerald Forest if you looked down at your feet. Some of them were broken, as was the desk and the chair; the office was occupied by a massive beringel that had to hunch itself to fit into the cramped office.

It held Flash in one hand; he had dropped Rho Aias, but he still had Caliburn in his hand, and he had changed it from spear to sword mode as he stabbed it frantically into the beringel's hand.

The beringel didn't seem to notice. It gave a husky laugh as it squeezed him with its massive fingers.

Weiss flew towards them, Myrtenaster pointed before her like a lance, aimed at the small of the beringel's back. Beringel's were strong, but they lacked armour in comparison to other grimm; even the eldest of them was unprotected compared with a beowolf or an ursa of similar age or younger. The beringel's back was all black, no plates of armour to be seen, nothing to interrupt her blade at all.

She drove Myrtenaster home, and as the slender blade pierced the black hide, Weiss fired another blast of fire dust straight into the grimm.

The beringel squawked and dropped Flash to the floor.

Weiss smirked as she extracted her blade, conjuring an array of black glyphs to shield her from the inevitable—

The beringel swung its enormous trunk-like arm in a backhand blow that smashed through Weiss' glyphs as though they were made of glass, not aura, swatting Weiss backwards with a blow that sent her aura plummeting. The pain, the flaring protest of her injured aura, consumed Weiss' mind for a moment as she flew backwards, smashing through the classroom wall to make a third hole and further damage her abused aura. Only after that did she recover herself sufficiently to conjure up a glyph to stop her progress, and even that was a somewhat hard landing.

She barely managed to keep her feet as she landed unsteadily upon the ground.

Cardin stepped protectively in front of her as the beringel pursued, joining the two holes in the wall that Weiss had made as it broke through, roaring and beating its chest with both its mighty hands.

It planted its fists heavily onto the floor with a thud that made the classroom shake.

"Cardin, cover me," Weiss commanded, raising Myrtenaster in front of her as she began to conjure a time dilation glyph. "Russel, flank it!"

The smoky silver time dilation glyph began to take shape beneath Weiss' feet, but slowly, achingly slowly.

The beringel raised one first. Cardin charged with a shout, Executioner drawn back for a two-handed swing aimed at the beringel's face. The beringel caught the mace in one hand, not even able to wrap all of its fingers around the weapon. Cardin's shout changed to a growl of frustration as he pushed and shoved, trying to regain control of his weapon. The beringel, its other fist still planted firmly on the floor, let out a kind of husky laughing sound as it engaged in this tug of war. Cardin was sometimes able to push forwards, shoving the beringel's arm back, then he had to take a step back in turn, but he couldn't wrench his mace out of the beringel's grip.

Russel came in from the side, daggers gleaming in the moonlight that streamed through the window as he stabbed at the beringel's back hip, hands and arms a blur as the knives ripped in and out, in and out, and every strike exploding with a little blast of dust.

The beringel huffed and brought its other hand up off the floor to smack Cardin backwards into Weiss — the glyph she had been conjuring dissolved into nothing — and bearing them both back through the front row of desks and into the second.

The grimm rounded on Russel, rearing up as it raised both first up towards the ceiling. Russel backed away as the fists flew down, slamming into the floor hard enough to make craters. The beringel tried to bring its fists down again, then tried more swatting sideswipes, but Russel was swift on his feet and able to stay a step ahead of the mighty hands.

Weiss, having crawled out from underneath Cardin, took advantage of the beringel's distraction with Russel to think. Speed was their ally here, since the beringel was too strong to be withstood by her barrier glyphs; they would just have to stay one step ahead of him.

And if they could stop the beringel from moving too, then so much the better.

She rotated Myrtenaster's chamber so that, instead of fire dust, she had blue ice dust loaded.

"Be ready to move on my signal," she instructed Cardin as she conjured an array of white glyphs all around the classroom, criss-crossing it in every direction, passing under and around the beringel as it lumbered in pursuit of Russel.

The beringel looked down at the glyphs appearing all around it.

Weiss swooped forward, racing along her glyphs towards the beringel's rear. She slashed out with Mytenaster, firing a blast of ice dust that crystallised around the beringel's leg, covering it in sparkling ice up to the haunch and pinning the grimm to the floor. She flew around it, her slender blade darting out to strike at the beringel's flank before she slid around in front of it.

The beringel raised both fists to slam them down on her, but Weiss was too quick, and both hammer-like hands struck down onto the floor. Weiss fired another blast of ice dust, catching both hands before they could rise again, sticking them to the floor as well as the ice dust rose up to the beringel's elbows.

"Now!" Weiss cried, cycling Myrtenaster's chamber from ice dust to yellow lightning dust.

Cardin followed in Weiss' gliding path, using her glyphs to flow forwards rapidly and hammer the beringel from the side, pounding on its thigh with Executioner. Flash charged out of Doctor Oobleck's office, Rho Aias recovered and Caliburn back in spear mode; he drove Caliburn into the beringel's flank, twisting the spear as he did so. Russel dived underneath the beringel and began to stab at its chest and belly with his flickering knives.

"Everyone hold back a moment," Weiss commanded, waiting until all their metal weapons were away from the beringel before she struck, on the side opposite to Flash, stabbing the beringel with her slim sword and unleashing the lightning dust stored within.

Yellow lightning rippled up and down the black body of the grimm, crackling, snapping, snarling, biting like dogs the lightning bit at the beringel. The grimm roared in pain, its whole body shook, it trembled in its icy restraints.

The beringel ripped its arms free of the ice with a great roar, its whole body rearing up as its arms rose to touch the ceiling — and then its whole body flopping down again right on top of Russel. Russel tried to roll away, but he was not fast enough this time, and Weiss had no glyphs beneath the beringel to help him. The grimm landed with a thud to shake the ceiling, and there was no sign of Russel underneath.

Weiss, Cardin, and Flash all renewed their assault, sword, mace, and spear rising and falling.

The beringel's restrained leg broke free of the ice as well and lashed out, prehensile toes gripping Cardin by the ankle and pulling him off balance. The grimm pushed itself up — exposing Russel to view, lying flat on the ground but with no visible injuries — and slammed its fist down on Flash.

Flash caught the blow on Rho Aias, his semblance enabling him to withstand the hideous strength without moving. Lightning erupted out of Rho Aias to blast up the beringel's arm, once more snapping and crackling as it tore towards the grimm's bony skull. The beringel did not flinch; rather, as the lightning rippled up its arm, it grabbed Rho Aias by the lip of the shield and pulled Flash forwards and flat on his face to the floor.

Weiss conjured a succession of black glyphs over him, five, six, seven black glyphs stacked in a row over Flash as the beringel's fist descended.

It broke the first glyph, and the second, and the third. Four, five glyphs shattered by the beringel's hand, the sixth crumbling, and the seventh … the seventh holding firm against the beringel's blow.

The grimm turned its head to regard her with a pair of burning red eyes.

It sprang for her, but Weiss first recoiled away then rushed forwards, skidding beneath the beringel's legs and behind it to grab Russel — his aura might not be broken, but by his wide eyes and the way he was shaking, he was in no fit state to rejoin the battle right now — and pull him at least a little way out of danger, to the doorway of the corridor. She slid forward on more glyphs to do the same for the injured Atlesian, dragging him out of reach.

Not that the beringel seemed to notice. Its attention was on Cardin, still grabbed by the foot despite the way that he hammered at the monster with his mace. The beringel grunted as it grabbed him by the hand, squeezing his shoulder and twisting Executioner out of his grip.

Weiss began to conjure hard light glyphs, Russel had impugned her lasers, but perhaps—

With this free hand, the beringel grabbed a section of desk and threw it at her, throwing her off her conjuring, causing her glyphs to flicker and die.

Flash, back on his feet, drove Caliburn into the small of the beringel's back.

The grimm rounded on him but still kept hold of Cardin, using him as a weapon, beating Flash with him; Cardin's arms flailed, and he cried out in pain as the beringel beat him up and down on Flash's upraised shield. Flash's semblance allowed him to absorb the shocks, but Cardin had no such luck, and in any case, Flash's semblance consumed his aura as much as the repeated impacts consumed Cardin's.

Weiss once more tried to summon her laser glyphs; no other blow she'd landed had been sufficient; it was all that she could think to try.

Cardin's aura broke, and the beringel threw him at Weiss, who had to swiftly dodge to avoid him. She just about managed to conjure a black glyph to catch him before he slammed into the wall, but how much softer that really was, she couldn't say.

Flash stabbed the beringel in the chest. It barely seemed to notice as it pounded on him with its immense fists, those great hammers rising and falling.

Flash stood like a tree buffeted by a storm, the winds of the hurricane pushing at the stiff old trunk.

The stiff old trunk that never bends but breaks.

Flash's aura broke, consumed by his semblance. The next blow of the beringel drove him into the floor. He cried out in pain.

His cry turned to a scream of agony as the next blow shattered his legs beneath the beringel's fist.

Weiss screamed too, a piercing scream of fear and frustration. If she did nothing, then Flash would die. Flash was helpless, aura broken, going to die if Weiss did nothing, and Weiss could do nothing. She couldn't help. She couldn't hurt this monster. All she could do was watch.

There's nothing I can do.

There must be something I can do!

The beringel's fist rose up, and fell.

A white hand, a shimmering white hand of ghostly samite, grabbed the grimm's descending fist and held it fast.

The beringel made a soft noise of confusion.

Weiss stared, wide-eyed. This hand, and the arm to which was attached, had emerged out of an ornate white glyph, elegant but inscrutable patterns swirling in the air in front of the beringel. The glyph, like the hand and the arm, were so pale as to be almost spectral, glowing like a vision from some other world, giving off a sort of smoke as though they were all some transient thing that began to decay by the mere act of being in the world.

And yet, at the same time, solid enough to stop the beringel's blow and hold it fast despite its efforts to free itself, for tug as it might, it could not break free.

Hand and arm alike were clad in armour, segmented plates of armour with sharp and overlapping edges.

She had seen this armour before, in her father's house — and in the battle she had been forced to fight before attending Beacon, when he had had a geist placed in one of his suits of armour and then loosed it on her.

A sword emerged from the same glyph, a long white sword, broader than Weiss or Flash, almost as broad as Cardin's chest, a sword that seemed it must be made for two hands yet here wielded in one. Another armoured arm drove that sword out of the glyph and into the beringel's chest and out the other side.

The beringel whimpered as it was lifted off the floor.

A warrior emerged out of the glyph, a giant warrior clad all in ghostly armour, everything concealed beneath the shimmering plate. Behind the slit in its visor, there lay nothing at all.

The arma gigas had to stoop to emerge out of the glyph, then straightened up; it was almost as tall as the high ceiling of the classroom. It looked down at the beringel hung upon its sword, and contemptuously shook it free.

As the beringel was flung through the air, the arma gigas swung its sword once more and cut it in two.

The grimm's ashes scattered across the room.

Weiss stared in amazement at the mighty warrior that she had summoned.

She had done it.

She had saved Flash.

Tears sprang to the corners of her eyes.

The arma gigas turned towards her. Taking a step forward, it placed its sword tip first upon the floor and knelt to her, upon one knee, as a retainer to his princess in some soppy old fairy story.

Weiss' whole body trembled.

She collapsed forward, her own much more slender blade hitting the floor point first as she leaned upon it, managing to only fall to her knees instead of flat on her face.

The arma gigas dissolved into nothing as her aura broke.

She heard footsteps, footsteps running down the corridor. She heard Blake's voice crying, "Weiss? Weiss?"

"In here!" Weiss shouted, her voice trembling just like her body. "In here, we need help!"

Blake's steps quickened yet further, and she burst in with Gambol Shroud in her hand. Her golden eyes darted around the room. "Weiss, are you—?" She gasped when she saw Flash, saw the bloody ruin that the grimm had made of his legs.

Weiss rose unsteadily to her feet. Without her aura, she felt so incredibly weary, so weak, as though she had gone days without food. She moved slowly, ever so slowly as she staggered across the ruined classroom, kneeling once more by Flash's side.

"Flash?" she whispered. "Flash, can you hear me?"

Flash groaned. His blue eyes flickered. "I … am I dreaming?"

"No," Weiss said, swallowing the phlegm that threatened to clog her throat. "No, I … I hope that a dream would be more pleasant than this."

Flash managed to smile weakly, but said, "But I thought … I thought I saw … saved by … a beautiful thing. Second most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

His eyes began to close.

"Flash!" Weiss cried. "No, Flash, you have to stay awake!" She looked at Blake. "My aura's broken; you'll have to carry him."

"Of course," Blake said, sheathing her sword as she ran towards them.

---

The sound of gunfire rattled out of Rainbow's scroll.

"This is Coco Adel!" Coco shouted over the sound of the gun. "We could use some assistance here!"

Team CFVY — what remained of Team CFVY — was one of the teams holding the path between the docking pads and the courtyard; just by looking west, Rainbow could see first the nearly-continuous muzzle flashes of Coco's weapon lighting up the darkness, and by looking through her goggles, she could see that Coco — and Velvet, who had copied Coco's weapon — were firing into a large group of mixed beowolves and ursai bearing down on them.

"Understood, Coffee," Rainbow said. "Ciel, go."

Ciel nodded and turned away, running westward down the path, Distant Thunder rising and falling in her arms as she ran.

With Ciel gone, that left just Rainbow, Rarity, and Team ONYX defending the courtyard.

Since she had sent Blake into the main school building to fetch WWSR, APDT, and GRAY, Rainbow had pulled the Haven Team PHIN out of the dining hall and sent them to hold the gap between the fairground and the courtyard, which in turn let her send Team UMBR onwards to join the fight in the fairgrounds itself. The grimm now occupied the dining hall — she could see them silhouetted against the flames — and used it to gather their strength in a degree of cover before launching attacks on either Team PHIN or on Rainbow and ONYX in the courtyard. She had also pulled another Haven team, APAA — pronounced 'apparel' — out of the dorms, leaving only Team SABR to hold them, and sent them to bolster the fairgrounds as well.

It was not ideal, and it had not been her first choice, but the situation in the fairground remained tense, and the fairground remained the place where they were still finding civilians who needed to be evacuated — they were still coming in a steady trickle down the path that the huntsmen held, to the courtyard and then west to the docking pads.

There were some civilians waiting in the courtyard, waiting for Ciel to reinforce Team CFVY and drive off this latest attack, but they were being swollen in number by people still arriving from the fairgrounds.

If the situation in the fairgrounds still wasn't stabilised … Rainbow could really do with Team WWSR back here; there wasn't a lot of other fat left.

"Rainbow Dash," the voice of Violet Valeria intruded upon her thoughts.

There was a moment when Rainbow wished that she was a praying person so that she could pray for some good news. "Violet, please tell me that you're contacting me because all the civilians are away."

"I wish I could say that," Violet said. "Your girl Ditzy is running around checking, but in the meantime, most of your Atlesian robots are down, and we've been enveloped on three sides now."

"Can you hold?" Rainbow asked.

"I wouldn't be calling if I was sure I could," Violet replied.

I'm not sitting on a bottomless pit of huntsmen, you know, Rainbow thought. This isn't a videogame where I can push a button and generate a new team for seventy-five lien a time. But one of the rules of leadership once you got down the list a little — twenty-five or twenty-six or something — was not losing your temper with your subordinates, and so, Rainbow took a deep breath before she responded.

I'll have to go down there myself. I haven't got anyone else to send. Once Blake gets back, she can take overall command.

Maybe the problem is Violet's been too defensive. With the grimm enveloping on three sides, they can't be that strong everywhere; a counterattack could roll them back and stabilise the situation.

I'll go and—

"Rainbow Dash!"

"Penny!" Rainbow cried, turning around to see Penny, Pyrrha, and Jaune approaching from the south, stepping into the lights that surrounded the courtyard. A ragged sigh of relief burst from Rainbow's mouth even as said mouth broke into a grin. "Am— Violet, hold on, just a second; I'll have something for you."

"Hurry up."

"Midnight, put me on mute," Rainbow said as she jogged forwards towards the three members of Team SAPR. "Penny, am I glad to see you!" She pulled her into a quick one-armed hug, contenting herself with a nod of welcome to Pyrrha and Jaune. "How's Ruby?"

"Still sleeping," Penny said. "We left her with Professor Ozpin."

"I kinda wish you'd left her somewhere alone and brought Professor Ozpin here with you, but never mind," Rainbow muttered. "What about…?" She licked her lips. "What about Amber?"

"She's gone," Penny said softly. "She left the school with Dove, Lyra, Bon Bon, and Tempest Shadow."

"With Tempest?" Rainbow repeated, her voice rising a little. "Tempest's dead!"

"Not according to Benni Haven," Jaune replied. "She saw her — or at least someone who looks a lot like her — leaving with Amber and the others; they took the road towards Vale."

"How did Tempest die?" Pyrrha asked. "Or seem to die?"

"I don't know," Rainbow admitted. "Trixie just told me that she had. She could have fooled them, I guess." Poor Tsunami; they're going to feel like rubes when they find out. Or if they find out; it might be better to let them think—

Only if Tempest actually dies tonight; if she's still around, then they need to know in case they run into her again.

Poor Tsunami.

"So what about you?" she asked. "Where do you go from here?"

She hoped, she dared to hope, that they were here to help her out — they could certainly use the help — but at the same time, Rainbow tried to mentally prepare herself for the possibility that they were not, that Professor Ozpin had given them other orders, to guard the Relic, maybe, or get an airship somewhere into Vale, or kill Cinder or something else related to Salem and the secret war.

It would be a disappointment if they had, but it would be something she couldn't help and would have to make the best of.

"General Ironwood told us to report to you for instructions."

Yes! Thank you, thank you, General! "Thank the lights," Rainbow muttered. She cleared her throat. "Okay, here's what I want you to do: we still haven't evacuated everyone out of the fairgrounds — we think; it's confused over there; we're always finding new civilians still wondering what to do. Violet Valeria of Team Volcano is leading the defence, but I don't want you to take orders from her. Instead, what I want you to do is … the grimm are mainly advancing from the east, but they've worked around the open ground north of the fairgrounds, and they're pressing from the north and now from the west as well, but I think they must be weak to the west because their main forces are coming from the other side of the battlefield. So what I want you to do is head to the fairgrounds, then take Team Auburn and Team Tsunami, and I want you to counterattack the grimm on the western flank, okay? You come up from the south and hit them here like this," — Rainbow held up one hand palm flat, making a vertical straight line, and then slowly moved her other fist upwards to hit her flat palm on the wrist — "and then I want you to drive them back and roll them up all the way around the fairgrounds until they're only coming from the eastern side. That will mean there's a lot less ground to defend for the number of huntsmen. Does that make sense?"

"I think so," Penny said.

"It sounds like a risk," Pyrrha murmured.

"I can't help that," Rainbow replied. "Playing defence has gotten us into a situation where most of our forces are down there already, and it's still not enough. We need a brisk counterattack to take some of the pressure off." She paused. "I know it's a big ask, but that's why I'm asking you. You're one of the best teams on the field right now; I need you to be—"

"The tip of the spear," Pyrrha said softly. "Put like that, how can we refuse?"

"We can't, and we won't," Penny declared. "You can rely on us, Rainbow Dash."

"I know," Rainbow said, giving her a pat on the shoulder. "Now go to it." She stepped aside to let them pass. As they ran by, Pyrrha's sash fluttering out behind her, Rainbow said, "Midnight, unmute me."

"Done."

"Violet," Rainbow said. "I'm sending Team Sapphire your way. When they get there, I want them to join with Team Auburn and Team Tsunami and counterattack the grimm coming in from the west."

"'Counterattack'?"

"Yes, I think it should relieve the pressure if we can drive back their flanking forces," Rainbow said.

"I understand," Violet said. "Thank you, Rainbow Dash." Her voice rose, and Rainbow understood that she was not speaking directly to Rainbow Dash as she shouted. "Take heart, sons and daughters! Stand fast, for the Champion comes to our aid!"

Rainbow rolled her eyes. Mistralians.

"Rainbow Dash!" Blake's voice rose sharply out of Rainbow's scroll.

"Blake," Rainbow said. "Did you find Wisteria?"

"I left Team Aspidistra holding the school doors, but the interior has been abandoned," Blake said. "Team Gray is … helping me with the wounded."

Rainbow blinked. Her faunus ears pricked up on top of her head. "Helping you … how bad is it?"

There was a pause, then Blake said, "We had to leave two dead bodies in Doctor Oobleck’s classroom; Atlesians, but I didn’t recognise them, I don’t think they came down with us. We’ve got another student I don’t know wounded and on top of that Team Wisteria is… they’re pretty well out of it right now. Weiss' aura has been broken; Russel still has some of his aura, but I think he's in shock; Cardin's badly hurt; and Flash…"

"Flash is what?" Rainbow demanded. Flash is … dead? She could hardly imagine that. They'd never been super close, but he'd always been there, a friendly face in the corridor or around the table. Poor Flash, stuck with a girlfriend like Sunset; poor Flash, pining after Twilight; poor Flash, isn't it terrible what happened to his old man? Good old Flash, trying his best; good for Flash, finding his semblance like that; Flash sure plays a mean guitar.

Good luck, Flash, I wish you were coming to Atlas.

Flash's funeral was a very dignified affair.

No. No, it can't be. "Flash what, Blake?"

"His legs," Blake replied, the words sounding like they'd burst out unbidden. Her voice dropped. "I think he'll lose both legs."

Behind Rainbow, Rarity whimpered.

Rainbow's ears drooped down on top of her head. That was … at least he was alive, but at the same time, it was hardly good news. Both legs? To lose one was bad enough, but to lose both? Living was the only consolation for something like that. "What happened?"

"A beringel," Blake explained. "Weiss killed it in the end, just before I got there, but it took all of her aura. I'm carrying Flash now, and I can hear the pain in every breath that Cardin takes. Team Wisteria's down, Rainbow Dash."

Rainbow cursed inwardly. "I see," she muttered. "Okay, take them to the docking pads; you say Team Gray is escorting you?"

"Yes. And helping Cardin to walk."

"Right," Rainbow said. "Make sure Flash and Cardin get on board an airship ASAP; if Russel doesn't seem better by the time you get there, get him aboard too. Weiss can stay or go; it's her choice. She might want to keep an eye on her team. But once you've got them to the docking pads, I need you to come back here with Team Gray."

"Understood."

Rainbow closed her eyes.

I'm so sorry, Flash.

She ran one hand through her rainbow hair as she turned around to face Rarity.

Rarity looked pale, even paler than usual, which was saying quite a lot. Her mouth was covered with both her hands, and her blue eyes — already big, and made to seem bigger with the purple eyeshadow she wore — had grown wide with horror.

Rainbow tried to find a reassuring smile as she closed the distance to her friend. "It's gonna be okay," she said. She reached out to put a hand on Rarity's shoulder. "Flash is gonna be okay."

"But Blake—" Rarity began.

"I know," Rainbow said softly. "But they'll get him stabilised up on the Comfort, and then they'll take him home to Atlas, and once he's there, they'll fit him with a new set of legs. With who his mother is, her connections, he'll get a top-of-the-line pair, just like that."

She snapped her fingers.

And then no one will look at him the same way again. People won't see him as human anymore; they'll look at him and see a machine or a monster.

Someone really ought to change that part of our society, too.

"And he'll be back on his feet in no time," she said to Rarity. "Back on his feet … good as new."

---

Pyrrha led the charge, Miló switching fluidly from sword to spear and back again as she cut, then thrust, then threw her shield to decapitate an alpha, then changed briefly to gun to fire off her last few shots, then switched back to spear to whirl it before her in both hands. Against a particularly tough-looking foe, a wave of aura rippled from the tip of Miló to tear through the grimm before her.

Arslan was on her right, wordless roars ripping from the throat of the Golden Lion, Nemean Claw gleaming in one hand; sometimes, out of the corner of her eye, Pyrrha saw her reach for the necklace of fire dust crystals that she habitually wore, only to realise that she’d used them all up in her fight against Pyrrha. They were none of them starting this battle in the completely fresh state they would have liked. Nonetheless, Arslan pushed on at Pyrrha’s side, roaring, punching, kicking, throwing her knife to bury it in the necks of grimm and then retrieve it by the string wound around her hands. Sometimes, her blows had the force of aura behind them; Pyrrha felt the aftershocks through the air, blowing through her ponytail.

Trixie was on Pyrrha’s left, her wand in one hand, and in the other, a replica of Blake’s Gambol Shroud, fashioned out of aura by Trixie’s teammate Sunburst. Fire erupted from the tip of Trixie’s wand while she switched between gun and sword almost as smoothly as Blake did. Her starry cape streamed out behind her as she charged forward, and her tall pointy hat looked forever as though it was on the verge of flying off her head.

Starlight and Bolin held the flanks of the wedge; Starlight’s weapon was in its polearm configuration, the blade glowing a brilliant blue that lit up the darkness; Bolin’s staff whirled in his grasp. Starlight had asked to copy Jaune’s semblance before they began their assault, and so, her hands would glow with a brilliant opal light as she strengthened her arms to cut down the mightiest foes that confronted her.

Jaune was right behind Pyrrha, sometimes stepping out to the right, sometimes to the left to blast dust outwards at the grimm before them, sometimes sheathing Crocea Mors to give someone a much needed boost to their aura. Sunburst was with him, a wind dust crystal set in his staff which he used to blast grimm aside from the safety of the second rank.

And in the centre of the wedge was Penny, the swords of Floating Array rising on their wires above the heads of Pyrrha and Jaune and all the rest before descending like thunderbolts upon the grimm. She scythed them down like wheat in the harvest time.

They charged forth, driving through the flank of the grimm, and as they cut through their ranks, the embattled huntsmen who had struggled to hold them back cheered for them; they did not cheer so loud as the crowds in the arena had cheered earlier that day, but as their cheers rang in the ears of Pyrrha and the others, she reflected that the cheers meant more, just as this battle meant more, than all the loud applause that they had won in the arena.

And so, with the cheering echoing in their ears and stiffening their hearts, they charged forwards, slicing through the grimm that confronted them. This was their aristeia, their slaughter of which the poets sang, as the grimm fell before them like a great tree falling to the woodcutter’s axe.

It was not enough.

For every grimm that fell, two more took its place; three more, even. They shattered the western flank of the grimm assault, but as they turned upon the northern wing, as they pushed eastward, so the numbers of the grimm increased and the momentum of their charge collapsed into a battle to hold the line against the constantly replenishing creatures that confronted them.

As she hacked and slashed and thrust her spear to strike down every grimm that came against her only to see more grimm step forward over their smouldering bodies, as she felt her arms beginning to grow heavy, Pyrrha began to fear that they would truly need the Atlesian air support to hurl the grimm back and that if it did not come soon, then the tide of the battle for Beacon would turn against them.

Atlesian air support, or a miracle.

---

Ozpin was collapsed into his chair. He could barely move. He could barely think — or rather, the only thing that he could think was one thing.

Amber had betrayed him.

Amber had betrayed all of them, but him especially. Amber, the Fall Maiden, the girl he had known since she was a babe in arms, had betrayed him.

“Are you really that surprised?” Amber asked.

She stood in the centre of his office, looking down at him where he sat, half-sprawled, in his chair. The scars on her face, the scars that Cinder had inflicted upon her, the scars that rebuked him for his failure to protect her, were especially visible upon her face. There was no makeup to hide or soften them now, and even the dim light of the office did not hide them.

They all stood out so clearly, and all of them cried out to him that they were his fault, that all of this was his fault.

“Why wouldn’t I betray you?” Amber asked, taking a step towards him. Her arms were held out at her sides, and she raised them as though she was trying to embrace them. “After all the things that you have done to me, what reason, what right do you have to expect loyalty from me, to demand devotion?”

“I loved you,” Ozpin whispered. “I still love you.”

“You ruined my life! That’s not love!” Amber shrieked. “You never asked me if I wanted to be your Maiden; you never gave me a choice — or a chance.”

“None of us are given a chance,” Raven muttered. “Even those of us who got a choice.”

“That’s not true!” Summer insisted. “We all—”

“Whose child is that lying there on the floor?” Raven demanded, gesturing at the sleeping, unconscious form of Miss Rose lying there. “It’s yours, isn’t it? It’s your daughter who's lying here because she got mixed up in all of this.” Her voice became hoarse, almost choked. “Who grew up without a mother because you got mixed up in all this?”

Summer fell silent, staring at Raven, staring at Miss Rose, pointedly not looking at Ozpin.

Then she disappeared.

Leaving Ozpin without a champion or a defender, not that he deserved one.

“I almost died for this once,” Amber reminded him, as though he could have forgotten. “I almost died for something that I never wanted. Why should I risk my life for it again and again, over and over again until death claims me? Why should I cleave to you, just so that you can find someone else to inherit my magic when I’m gone?”

“I thought I was brave before I met you,” Raven declared. “I thought that I was strong, I thought that I was resilient, I thought that I could handle anything that Remnant threw at me. And when I met Summer and Tai, when I met my first friends, I thought that together we could … but you showed me such things as took my courage clean away. You killed my friend, you killed Summer … and you killed the vision of myself I had. You killed the me I thought I was, and the me I wanted to become.”

“You killed my self-respect,” Lionheart said, as he appeared where Summer had been standing just a second ago. “You trapped me in Mistral, prey to every condescending remark, every racist microaggression, every sneer, every curled lip. Did you ever wonder how lonely I’d become?”

“So many betrayals,” Raven murmured. “So many people turned against you. Did you ever wonder if maybe you were the problem?”

“Of course he’s wondered that,” Salem said. She appeared next to Amber, so tall that her head nearly touched the slowly grinding gears of the clock. She glided forwards, her feet and the hem of her black dress obscured by smoke rising up around her. “It’s always on his mind.” She stood over him now, leaning down, hands pale as death upon his desk, red eyes staring down at him. “It’s a monster that stalks him while he wakes and gnaws upon him while he sleeps. It never rests but always lurks at the back of his mind, whispering.” She smiled. “I’ve come to triumph over you when all is won, Ozpin.”

Ozpin fought to control the trembling in his hands. “You are not here.”

“No,” Salem conceded. Her smile widened, her teeth flashing like knives. “But I have triumphed over you.”

“Not yet you haven’t,” Miss Shimmer said.

Ozpin looked to his right. There, Miss Shimmer stood, leaning against the window, arms folded across her chest. Her ears were drooped down into her fiery hair, and she was glaring at Salem.

“Don’t count your grades until you get the papers back,” she said. “You haven’t triumphed yet.”

Salem straightened up, turning to face Miss Shimmer. “My grimm are rampaging across the school; the Fall Maiden has given herself into my hands and will deliver the Relic of Choice the same way.” She chuckled. “Where is my disadvantage?”

Miss Shimmer straightened up and walked around the edge of the room, until she stood over Ozpin, over his shoulder, glaring at Salem and Amber and Raven.

She leaned over Ozpin’s shoulder, and with his hand, she pushed a button on his desk. The glass surface of the desk flickered, and a half-dozen windows opened up, projected up in front of him.

They were images coming from the cameras placed around the school, images of the battle raging in the school right now, while he sat here in his tower. Looking at them, forcing himself to look at them, Ozpin could see Miss Nikos, Mister Arc, and Miss Polendina fighting alongside some Haven and Atlas students with whom he was much less familiar. He could see Miss Dash, James’ prized protégé, directing the defences. He could see Miss Xiao Long and her teammates fighting to hold the grimm back from the docking pads as people queued to get aboard airships. He could see the battle raging across Beacon as students from all four academies, even Shade, fought to hold back the grimm and defend the school and those who had come here in good faith.

Miss Shimmer gestured to the screens, her hand pointing to the feed of Miss Nikos, Miss Polendina, and Mister Arc.

“There!” she snapped. “There is your disadvantage!”

The smile slid off Salem’s face. “For now.”

Miss Shimmer huffed and snapped her fingers.

Salem, Amber, and Raven all just disappeared, turning to smoke as though they were grimm and Miss Shimmer had slain them all. They were banished from his office just as Miss Shimmer — the real Miss Shimmer — had been banished from the school by Miss Rose.

“That’s better,” Miss Shimmer said. “We can have a conversation now.” She walked around Ozpin’s desk until she was on the other side of it, the side on which Salem and the rest had confronted him just a moment ago.

She looked down at him, but with less hostility in her green eyes than they had shown in theirs. “Look at them, Professor,” she implored him. “Please.”

“I can see, Miss Shimmer,” Ozpin replied quietly.

“Look again,” Sunset said. “And tell me that you can fault their courage.”

“I have never denied their courage,” Ozpin told her. “Only…”

Miss Shimmer sat down on the desk, twisting her body at the waist to look at him still. “Only your own?”

“As you are me, sprung out of my head, it would be pointless to deny it, would it not?”

“Just because I’m you doesn’t mean I’m right,” Miss Shimmer told him. “Any more than they were right before. Which they weren’t by the way; you can’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault that you have been ill-used and betrayed.”

“Is it not?” Ozpin asked.

“No!” Miss Shimmer said hotly. “No, of course not.”

Ozpin looked away. He gave a little wan smile. “If someone is continuously getting in car accidents, there comes a time when he should ask if he is perhaps the bad driver, no? If I am forever being betrayed, should I not ask if I am responsible for my own betrayals?”

Miss Shimmer scratched between her eyebrows. “Look again at those cameras, Professor, look at Pyrrha and Jaune and Penny, and you will be reminded that, for all that the betrayals may stick in your mind, they’re far outnumbered by the people who remained loyal to you.”

Ozpin’s eyes wandered back to that particular camera, to see Miss Nikos fighting with might and main against the hordes of grimm, Mister Arc supporting all their allies with his semblance as best he could, Miss Polendina striking from behind the line. And their comrades, too, their friends from Atlas and Haven, all of them fighting so hard.

Everyone was fighting so fine.

“Look at them shine, Professor,” Miss Shimmer whispered. “Look at them shine so brightly as they streak across the sky.”

Ozpin glanced at her. “Princess Celestia’s words.”

“She is very wise,” Miss Shimmer said, smiling at him. “And never wrong.”

“Then she must be very wise indeed, to be never wrong,” Ozpin murmured. “But in this case…”

He fell silent, his words trailing off as he watched the battle unfolding, the valour on display, the skill. The skill was beautiful, though not so beautiful as the brave hearts which animated that skill and gave it purpose.

Though the night was dark, they did indeed shine brightly. He could not deny that. He would not try to deny that.

“Professor Lionheart betrayed you,” Miss Shimmer said, “but General Ironwood has not, nor Professor Goodwitch. Raven betrayed you, but Summer Rose didn’t, nor Qrow, or Ruby’s father. Amber betrayed you…” — she ran one hand over the top of her fiery hair — “and I betrayed you too.”

“I have never thought that, Miss Shimmer,” Ozpin said.

Miss Shimmer raised her eyebrows as she looked at him.

Ozpin stared back at her, his face impassive.

Miss Shimmer sighed. “But Pyrrha hasn’t, nor Jaune, Ruby, Penny; Rainbow, Blake, Ciel, they’re loyal too, albeit to General Ironwood instead of you specifically, but loyal nonetheless. The point is that, while I get that it can seem as though you're surrounded by traitors, you’re really not. They’re far outnumbered by all the people, all the brilliant people, all the lights in the sky that are loyal to you and your cause.”

“Even unto death,” Ozpin murmured.

“Well, if that’s what you’re worried about, why don’t you do something about it?!” Miss Shimmer snapped. She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Professor, but … you shouldn’t blame yourself for the fact that a few people have betrayed you. But if you wanted to blame yourself for the fact that you’re sat up here on your hindquarters while there’s a battle going on downstairs, that wouldn’t be entirely undeserved.” She got up off the desk. “They need help, Professor. This is your school: you built this place; you turned it into a place they wanted to go, a place that they would fight to defend it. They still defend it. They risk their lives defending it. How can you do any less?

“Please, Professor, I know … I know you’re scared.” Miss Shimmer frowned. “I was scared too. I was scared of what would happen to them. Please don’t leave them.”

Ozpin looked at his staff, propped up against his desk. He gingerly reached for it, almost stroking the white domed head, fingertips not quite touching the surface.

So many years. So many battles.

So much power.

What had he been saving it for, if not for this?

“You wound me, Miss Shimmer,” Ozpin said. “And yet, you wound me precisely as I deserve.”

He looked at them all, all fighting, all striving, all defending his school while he … while he used others as his weapons.

So do all great lords if they are wise.

No. No, it was not always so.

It need not always be so.

Ozpin got to his feet and took up his staff. “I fear that I must be going,” he said. “Thank you, Miss Shimmer.”

Miss Shimmer shook her head. “You’ve no one to thank but yourself, Professor.”

Ozpin nodded to her and strode briskly towards the elevator. His back was straight once more, his gait was firm, his stride was long.

His steps did not falter.

His breathing was calm as he stepped into the lift and let it bear him downwards.

He rested the tip of his cane on the floor as the elevator ground down. Perhaps he should have installed a swifter lift. It had never seemed the most urgent use of funds. There had always been something else — RAAC discovered in the main building, asbestos in the dorm rooms, expanded weapons maintenance facilities — that demanded urgent attention and resources.

The speed or otherwise of the elevator had never seemed to be of any great concern.

Yet now, having decided to go down and join the fight, Ozpin began to feel some of that same impatience that his students must have felt when coming up to see him.

He could only hope that they had taken the opportunity to have some scintillating and illuminating conversations on the way.

For himself, he had had his fill of such for tonight.

Of course, if I had decided to move sooner, if I had done what I should have done when the battle began, I would have no reason to curse the elevator for its sloth.

In this instance, I really do have no one to blame but myself.

The elevator reached the bottom, and the doors opened out on to the ghastly Atlesian décor of the tower lobby. He appreciated the CCT, but he didn’t understand why it couldn’t have been made to look more Valish. His own office was the only place in the whole tower that looked of a piece with the rest of Beacon’s aesthetic. It was almost enough to make one believe that the Atlesians were trying to assimilate the world by stealth.

Almost.

It was not something that had to bother him for very long, as his swift steps carried him to the door and beyond.

A large group of grimm waited outside, under the leadership of a beringel.

The grimm seemed to have been waiting for him, for as soon as he stepped out of doors, they rose to their feet, and a clamour of howling rose out of their throats.

Ozpin regarded them evenly. They were too close for him to use the cane. It required a little time to use.

So he would need to deal with these grimm first.

He twirled his cane lightly in his hand as he descended a step.

He looked at the grimm over his small, round spectacles.

“Who would like to go first?” he asked calmly.

Many of them would, or none of them, for they sprang at him not one at a time but in a great mass of black fur and oily bodies, white masks and red eyes all blurring together as they rushed up the steps towards him.

Ozpin met them with his cane, a cane that moved so swiftly it blurred even before his eyes. He shimmered in the air before the creatures of grimm, moving like a haze in the air, never where they saw him but always somewhere else just beyond, so that their leaps and bites and charges descended on empty air before his staff descended upon them. His strokes were light — he favoured the thrust rather than the clubbing stroke; it was so much more elegant — but his thrusting blows were so rapid, landing on the target in quick succession, that they were more powerful collectively than the strongest clubbing blow could have been.

Grimm fell before him, and when the grimm pressed about him too numerously, he protected himself by conjuring up an emerald shield of magic to withstand them until he was ready to burst forth like a butterfly and assault them once more.

With his cane, he fought his way through the grimm, slaying them left and right to reach the beringel who led them. The beringel took to throwing grimm at him in an attempt to slow him down, but Ozpin didn’t even need to dodge; he simply shimmered in place, his body a blur, appearing to move in all directions at once and none, and the grimm passed harmlessly through him. Or else his cane lashed out to strike them down.

He rushed towards the beringel. The grimm bellowed in anger and raised an enormous fist to crush him.

The fist came down. Ozpin’s cane rose up.

The tip of his cane struck one of the beringel’s fingers, stopping it in its tracks. Ozpin had barely felt a thing.

The beringel recoiled, howling in pain as it clutched at its hand.

Ozpin leapt up, his body rising into the air, rising above the moon, letting the light catch his hair before he began to fall, descending like a thunderbolt, towards the hapless, helpless beringel.

If you wanted to contain me, Salem, you should have sent much more.

How disappointing.

The beringel yelped as Ozpin drove his cane down, shattering the grimm’s skull and penetrating its head with a single blow.

The rest of the grimm seemed to gasp in horror as Ozpin landed on the ground and turned towards them.

Having finished off the rest of the grimm, Ozpin stood alone in the square before the tower.

He looked down at the cane in his hands. Inside, stored within the gears that seemed to be merely a part of the handle, was an immense store of kinetic energy, the byproduct of all the battles in which he had used the cane — and he had fought many battles. Every blow, every strike, it all added to the energy within the cane. Even this little affair had made his cane a little more powerful.

And what was stored could be released.

And for what had he stored it away, if not against such a moment as this?

He was not near the centre of the school; parts of the grounds were a long way off from here. But moving closer to the centre of the school would invite questions — not least about the cane — that he did not really wish to answer.

And after so long, there was enough energy within to manage.

Ozpin raised his cane up, like a sword held before his face. He closed his eyes for a moment to focus himself, then opened them again.

He concentrated. He willed.

He called upon the power of battles long ago, of combats fought, of enemies defeated, of places saved or sacked, of armies laid low, of grimm hordes turned away.

So many battles. So much death.

So much drawn together for this.

The gears of the cane began to glow golden. The glow became brighter, brighter and brighter, as motes of emerald light began to drift out of the cane to hover around Ozpin like friendly fireflies.

He could feel the power, the power of the cane, and his own power also. He could feel it pricking at his hands, he could feel it trembling down his arms, he could feel the flood, and he could feel the walls cracking.

The gears of the cane shone brighter than the sun, the gears obscured from sight by the sheer brightness.

Golden light raced up the cane to the tip, and motes of gold rose also, mingling with the motes of green that danced around.

Ozpin pushed down upon the level built into the handle.

A shield of emerald magic surrounded him as rays of light rippled up and down the cane, whooshing with excitement, hissing with delight like eager creatures kept on leashes for too long and now, at last, set free to run.

The beam leapt out, erupting from the cane, bursting from the shield and spreading out, out, out across the whole of Beacon to cleanse the school of all its darkness.

Author's Note:

I kept Flash's injury here, and kept it tied to Weiss' summoning, because I really liked that scene in the original - which is why it plays out in much the same way even though the words are rewritten - and so I didn't see any reason not to have it or something like it here as well.

Having done very well so far, Rainbow's plan starts to strain at the seams a bit here, mostly due to her having somewhat underestimate the amount of pressure the grimm would put the fairgrounds under. This then necessitates the use of Ozpin's cane.

Ozpin's cane is something that had the particular group of RWBY watchers that I know frothing and raging when it was revealed in volume 8, at least some of them (one of them in particular) with the question of why he didn't use it to defend Beacon, or against Cinder, being raised very vocally. So now he uses it at Beacon, which of course means that he can't use it again later on.

It was good to give Ozpin a moment of glory here after so many chapters sitting up in his tower watching events from afar.

Comments

[AngelicTitan]

I loved Wisteria’s battle in the OG story as it put a spotlight onto Weiss, but here, with her already having a focus previously, feels much more impactful, with her finally summoning the Knight, and the way in which it ties up on her arc makes it one of my favorite moments on the chapter.
I liked the conversation between Pyrrha, Penny and Jaune about whether or not they would be able to kill Amber, and the pressure on Rainbow throughout the chapter was palpable as hell. Loved it.
I also am very happy about Ozpin’s ghosts being chased away by his version of Sunset because she’s the only one that seems to have complete faith in him, and not doubt his actions. I love how Ozpin and Sunset relationship developed and how much respect Sunset have in Oz, and I like how it is also mutual in his part with a Sunset giving him the talk he needed to act. The Cane came I surprise to me as I stopped watching RWBY in Volume 5, so a lot of Plot-points from then onwards I know but not the details of it.
I am excited to see how things will unravel from now on, with the Battle of Beacon finished, I think the next step will be Vale and we returning to see how Sunset will deal with Sonata and Cinder and maybe even see Amber now that she and her entourage is in Vale proper.
Until the next chapter!

[Stet709]

Atlesian air support, or a miracle.

A miracle you say?
Looking back to several chapters, I wonder who is said to create miracles.

Ok, maybe the real Sunset didn't make this miracle, but the fact that the mental-Sunset Ozpin conjured up in his head (I think?) was able to drown out any doubts in his mind seems to speak volumes of his perception of the real Sunset, and how she is just one example of how Oz's choices can have positive consequences, not just bad ones, how he can inspire loyalty and faith, not just betrayal.

[Cyrus Windstrider]

Though it would have been good for Ruby's development in this arc for her to talk sense into Ozpin somehow, I think it better that he manages to snap himself out of his own funk independently-- insofar as independence counts when talking to the imagined ghosts of his past allies and foes. Stirred to action by the example of his allies, brought back to play by their inspiration and tenacity. A bit more mortal, a bit less of the Old Man.

And though relatively minor, I'm glad to see Russel didn't run away. It ought to lead to less bitterness and more confidence among the separate pieces of team Wisteria later, assuming the battle still results in close to the same outcomes, in the grander scheme of things.

[solusjbj]

Let's go!!! Oz getting out of his head and defending the school was so good. And this line

They still defend it. They risk their lives defending it.

Nice LOTR reference.

[BeardedRedMane]

Ozpin's cane is something that had the particular group of RWBY watchers that I know frothing and raging when it was revealed in volume 8, at least some of them (one of them in particular) with the question of why he didn't use it to defend Beacon, or against Cinder, being raised very vocally.

They were frothing about the reveal when it happened in the actual show? Honestly why even be mad when it wasn't even a concept back then. Like yeah I enjoyed RWBY but dropped off of after s5 or s6 because honestly the story was weak and then the fight scenes got even weaker after s3 since they for some strange reason didn't keep Dillon Gu on board. I think once Monty Oum passed Rooster teeth just ran with whatever ideas they wanted.

[Onyx Spectre]

11854171
Oh, not this again...

[Mastermind4892]

THANK YOU, Scipio, for the matter with Ozpin's cane. The writers of V8 didn't think that one through, or what it does to previously established material. What else would Ozma save it for if not the defense of his school, the Fall Maiden, and especially a Relic?

Weiss unlocks the greatest power of her family's semblance, and she does it through saving a life. That speaks great volumes of how good a person she is.

11853907
11853922
It also says much of what Sunset really means to Ozpin. Summer Rose brought him hope, but Sunset brought that and more. Bold initative, audacious innovation, Equestrian magic... she began to accomplish what others thought impossible. She brought change. A wild card that introduced many new things to this terrible and stagnant game. That is the potential Ozpin saw in her, more than Goodwitch could, and that is why he still trusts Sunset with his life.

[Stet709]

11854371
Honestly, Oz's wild card is exactly how I would describe Sunset. With this war waging for eons, Oz is practically throwing things at a wall and see if they stick. And seeing as Stark's strike of Salem's fortress proved silver eyes don't affect Salem, Oz had to look for new avenues. Why wouldn’t he jump at the opportunity to try and recruit an Equestrian taking the path of being a huntress? Both Principal Celestia and Oz could see the potential in her, something both VP Luna and Goodwitch could not. Goodwitch saw her as not as reliable, while Luna saw her as "not Ozpin's type". Well, Sunset proved both wrong, hasn't she? She's exactly who Oz wanted and has proved loyal and reliable, not to mention outstanding.

[Luviere]

Holy mother of god this was a TREAT of a chapter! We finally have Oz here doing something, we have Rainbow being the best leader i have ever seem, we have writing so damn good that i can actually form an image of what is happening. Flash, ma boy got fucked up. Poor him. But on the bright side, he CAN skip leg day now. Also, That moment with Sunset and Ozpin... Damn. The fact that it was Sunset and not Summer to help Oz pull his head out of his ass is amazing, granted it was a projection made by Oz from his mind, but if the real Sunset would have been there, she would have done the same. Also, the fight between team WWSR and that grim was hella cool. One more thing I'd like to talk about. God i love all the politics, battle strategies and everything else that is in the background. Do you know how hard it is to write stuff like that and make sense? You author, have made an EXCELLENT job. From the world building, the politics, characters, detailed environment, relationships (romantic and otherwise), motivation, and so many more. everything makes sense and i love it.

[Thisguyhere]

Surprised he unleashed his trump card so quickly. Hopefully nothing giant and terrifying shows up that would need it, like a Dragon or something.
Nah, that's silly. We'll be fiiiine...
...Right?