The afternoon sun hung low over the Beacon Academy landing pads, casting long shadows across the airfield. Weiss was practically floating, her usual composed stride replaced by a frantic, eager pace that left Ruby scrambling to keep up.
"Weiss, come on! Slow down!" Ruby panted, her hand firmly caught in Weiss's grip as she was towed toward the docking bay. "Who is it that you're so excited to see? I've never seen you this... bubbly!"
Weiss came to a sudden halt, her eyes fixed on a sleek, white Atlas drop-ship that was settling onto the pad with a pressurized hiss. She turned to Ruby, her face radiating a rare, genuine joy. "Winter!" she exclaimed, before immediately turning back to watch the ramp lower.
Ruby blinked, her eyes widening as she watched the figure emerge. A woman with striking white hair, dressed in a sharp, pristine military uniform, stepped onto the pavement. She moved with a terrifyingly efficient grace, flanked by a squad of Atlesian Knight-200s—robotic guards that marched in perfect, metallic unison.
"Is that the famous sister I've heard so much about?" Ruby asked, tilting her head. "She looks... intense."
"She's a Specialist," Weiss said, her voice filled with a mix of pride and awe.
"Interesting..." Ruby grinned, her competitive spark lighting up. She took Weiss's hand and gave it a playful tug. "Well, let's go greet her then! No sense in standing around!"
They made their way across the tarmac, weaving through the wind gusts from departing ships. As they approached, the air seemed to grow several degrees colder.
"Winter!" Weiss called out, her voice softening as she reached her sister. Winter turned, her icy blue eyes scanning the pair with a professional, calculating gaze.
"Winter, I'm so happy to see you!" Weiss began, her arms half-extending for a hug. But then, she caught the stiff, military posture of her sister and the presence of the guards. She stopped dead, her face flushing as she pivoted into a deep, formal bow. "Your presence... honors us."
Winter stepped forward, her heels clicking rhythmically against the metal. "Beacon. It's been a long time," she remarked, her voice sophisticated and detached. "The air feels... different."
Ruby, trying her best to be polite despite the awkward tension, rubbed the back of her head. "I mean... it is fall," she offered with a nervous chuckle. "Might be a bit colder than you're used to? Or warmer? I don't really know Atlas weather, but I'm Ruby! Nice to meet you!"
Weiss immediately reached over and delivered a sharp, corrective jab to Ruby's shoulder.
"Ow! Why do you always have to hit me?" Ruby whispered, rubbing her arm and pouting.
Weiss ignored her, turning back to Winter with an eager expression. "So, what are you doing here in Vale? Is there a special assignment?"
"Classified," Winter replied flatly, her tone leaving no room for negotiation.
"Oh... right. Of course," Weiss said, her shoulders dropping slightly. "Well, how long are you staying? Surely you have time for tea, or—"
"Classified," Winter repeated.
The silence that followed was heavy and uncomfortable. Ruby shifted from foot to foot, looking between the two sisters. "Well... this is nice... I think?" she muttered. This is a bit awkward, she thought to herself.
"You're going to love it here, Winter!" Weiss said, trying to recover the conversation. "I know how much you travel, but Beacon is so different from Atlas. The government, the culture... even the way the Headmaster runs things!"
"I am more than familiar with this kingdom, Weiss," Winter said coldly. "But that is not why I am here."
"Right! I'm sorry," Weiss said, her voice dipping back into humility.
Winter's gaze sharpened. "Nor did I come here to watch my own blood fail so miserably in battle. But it appears I have no choice in the matter."
Weiss's head snapped up. "But we won! Team RWBY is moving on!"
"Only a novice would refer to that as a victory," Winter countered. "I counted at least three missed strikes and a lack of footwork discipline. You were sloppy."
Ruby rolled her eyes behind Weiss's back. What is with this lady? she wondered. Does she even know how to give a compliment?
Winter glanced at her robotic escorts. "Leave us," she commanded. The Knights stepped back instantly, their systems entering a standby hum. Winter let out a long, weary sigh, and the icy facade finally began to melt. Her posture relaxed, and she looked at Weiss with a much softer expression.
"How have you been, Weiss?" she asked, her voice finally carrying a hint of sisterly warmth.
"Splendid! Thank you for asking," Weiss chirped, her mood flipping instantly. "I'm actually at the very top of our sparring class! My grades are perfect, and—"
Ruby couldn't help it. A small, involuntary laugh escaped her.
"What?" Weiss demanded, spinning around to glare at her partner.
"Second," Ruby corrected, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You're second in sparring. Or did you forget who beat you in our last match?"
Weiss crossed her arms, pouting. "So what? I'm still in the top five! That's basically the same thing!"
Ruby just laughed harder, and to her surprise, Weiss's annoyance faded into a soft, fond smile as she watched Ruby giggle. Winter watched the exchange, her eyes widening slightly in realization.
"Mm. I've never seen you this happy since you received your rapier for your sixteenth birthday," Winter noted.
Weiss cleared her throat, her face turning pink. "Yes... well, I..." She fumbled for words, unable to spin the situation. Ruby, seeing her partner struggle, simply reached out and took Weiss's hand in hers. The contact was bold, and it made Weiss's breath hitch.
"That's because... Ruby here makes me happy," Weiss finally admitted, meeting Winter's gaze with a newfound courage.
Winter's eyebrows shot up. "I see. The girl you speak so highly of in your letters... did you finally confess?"
Now it was Weiss's turn to turn a deep, Atlesian-red. "I did, actually," Ruby answered for her, standing a little taller. "A few hours ago, actually. Right before the last match."
"I see..." Winter murmured. She looked Ruby over once more, but this time, there was respect in her eyes. "You seem like a capable girl, Ms. Rose. I hope you will continue to support my sister through the trials ahead."
"Of course," Ruby said with a confident grin. "I'd do anything for her."
Deep in her mind, the dark, unsettling growl of the "beast" stirred in protest, sending a shiver down her spine. Ruby squeezed Weiss's hand, forcing the feeling down and ignoring the internal snarl.
"Well then, greetings, Ms. Rose," Winter said, offering a slight, respectful nod. "I would like to thank you for taking such an interest in my sister's well-being."
"Oh... uh," Ruby stuttered, her bravado momentarily failing as she rubbed the back of her head. "Yes! Of course! The honor is all mine!" She gave a clumsy, hasty bow.
Winter nodded. "I have business to take care of. General Ironwood and your Headmaster are expecting me. I must take my leave."
"Already?" Weiss asked as Winter began to walk. Winter paused, placing a gentle hand on Weiss's shoulder. "Yes, but why don't the two of you walk with me for a bit? We can catch up on the way to the tower."
Ruby smiled weakly, but a sharp, burning sensation began to crawl up her arms. She glanced down and saw the faint, dark veins beginning to pulse beneath her skin, snaking toward her neck. She panicked.
"I'll be with you two in a bit!" Ruby blurted out, stepping back. "I need to fee—I mean! Check on something! I forgot a... thing! In the dorm! I'll catch up shortly, I promise!"
She looked at Weiss with wide, pleading eyes. Weiss saw the subtle tension in Ruby's jaw and the way she was hiding her hands. She understood immediately. Weiss took her sister's arm, steering her away. "Go ahead, Ruby! We'll see you at the fountain!"
Winter watched Ruby's hurried retreat with a curious glance before allowing herself to be led away by Weiss. Ruby didn't wait—the moment their backs were turned, she ducked into the shadows of a nearby hangar, her breath coming in ragged gasps as the darkness within began to surface.
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Ruby ducked behind the cold, corrugated metal of a nearby hangar, her breath coming in ragged, shallow hitches that mirrored the frantic rhythm of her heart. The moment she was safely out of Winter's piercing, military-trained sight, her composure shattered. She leaned her weight against the wall, the metal feeling icy against her back, yet it did nothing to cool the fire raging beneath her skin.
Beneath the heavy fabric of her sleeves and the high, protective collar of her outfit, the black veins were doing more than just showing—they were migrating. She gingerly peeled back the edge of her glove, a small gasp escaping her lips at the sight. The markings were no longer just faint lines; they had deepened into an abyssal, obsidian black that seemed to swallow the dim light of the hangar. They pulsed with a visceral, sickening cadence, a second heartbeat that was entirely out of sync with her own. It felt as though a nest of serpents was trapped beneath her flesh, twisting and stretching in a desperate bid to break free.
"What is happening to me?" she whispered, her voice trembling as she watched the ink-like corruption crawl another fraction of an inch toward her elbow.
The memories of the incident surged forward, unbidden and terrifying, dragging her back to that nightmare on the train. She could still smell the ozone and the stale air of the tunnels, hearing the low, mocking drawl of Roman Torchwick and the clinical, detached voice of the Doctor's holographic figure. She remembered the cold, sharp bite of the needle—a violation that had felt like a death sentence. That foul, nameless substance had been forced into her, a searing, oily liquid that had turned her blood into liquid lead.
The torture hadn't just been physical; it was a systematic dismantling of her spirit. He had done something to her—something fundamental and dark that she feared was an irreversible stain on her soul. Every time the veins pulsed, she felt the weight of that "gift," a parasitic legacy that she had to carry in silence. She was terrified that if she looked in a mirror too long, she wouldn't see Ruby Rose staring back, but the monster the Doctor had intended to create.
Deep within the marrow of her bones, the beast stirred. It wasn't a physical creature, but a sentient, coiling darkness that lived in the friction of her fear. Sensing her distress, it vibrated with a predatory delight, humming a low, guttural tune that resonated in her very soul. It savored the spikes of cortisol and the raw edge of her agony, feeding on her anguish like a scavenger. It wanted her to scream; it wanted her to give in and let the black ink take over.
Monster, it seemed to hiss in a voice that sounded far too much like her own.
"No," Ruby gritted her teeth, her knuckles turning white as she gripped her arms. "Shut up."
She forced herself to take long, steadying breaths, clenching her eyes shut until she saw stars. She couldn't break down here. She had to hide the evidence, bury the pain, and reconstruct the mask of the fearless leader. She adjusted her cloak with trembling fingers, ensuring the heavy red fabric was pinned perfectly to hide the marks on her neck, and pulled her sleeves down until they nearly covered her knuckles.
She had to do this for Weiss. Especially now, after the kiss—after they had finally stepped into the light of something real and beautiful. She wouldn't allow this corruption to touch that. She would be the girl Weiss loved, even if she had to fight a war inside her own body to do it.
With one final, shaky breath, she smoothed out her skirt and wiped a stray tear from her eye. The veins were still pulsing, still burning, but they were hidden. For now, the hero was back.
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The echoes of Ruby's hurried footsteps had barely faded before the serene atmosphere of the landing pads was shattered. A sharp, mechanical screech filled the air as two Atlesian Knight-200s were suddenly seized by an unseen force. With a violent, rhythmic tearing sound, the robots were dismantled like cheap toys. One of the robotic heads, wires sparking and optic sensors flickering, was tossed carelessly through the air, skidding across the pavement to stop right at Winter and Weiss's feet.
"Hey!" a rough, gravelly voice barked from the shadows.
The sisters turned in unison. Standing amidst the scrap metal of the destroyed guards was a man who looked like the physical embodiment of a hangover. He wore a rumpled outfit of white and gray, and a red cloak, jagged and torn at the hem, billowed behind him. In his hand, he casually gripped the torso of another robotic guard before dropping it with a heavy, metallic thud.
"I'm talking to you, Ice Queen," the man said, his voice dripping with a harsh, mocking familiarity.
Weiss's eyes flared with indignation. "Hey! Excuse you—" she began, stepping forward to defend her sister's honor. But before she could get a word out, Winter's arm barred her path, firmly but gently pushing Weiss behind her.
Another robotic guard, its subroutines finally registering the threat, raised its arm to fire. "Halt!" Winter commanded, her voice a whip-crack of authority. The machine froze instantly.
High above, a single crow circled the courtyard, its black eyes watching the scene unfold with an unnerving intelligence. The man in the red cloak walked forward, his gait steady despite his disheveled appearance. "Well, if it isn't the Ice Queen herself. I figured you'd be lurking around wherever the General's leash pulled you."
"And I see you're still as charming as ever," Winter replied, her voice cold enough to frost the air. She glanced at the pile of junk that used to be her security detail. "You realize you just destroyed Atlas Military property? That is a federal offense."
Qrow looked down at the scrap. "Ohhh, I'm so sorry. See, I mistook this for some kind of... sentient garbage. My mistake."
"I don't have time for your immature games, Qrow," Winter snapped.
"You two... know each other?" Weiss asked, looking between them in utter confusion.
"Yes," Winter said, her eyes never leaving the man. "Unfortunately, we do."
Qrow let out a low, humorless laugh. "I heard your boss, ol' James Ironwood, finally turned his back on Ozpin. Bringing an entire fleet to a school festival? Talk about overcompensating."
"Weiss, I think it's time for you to go," Winter said, her hand moving toward the hilt of her saber.
"Wait... what? Why?"
"Listen to your big sister, Weiss," Qrow interjected, his voice laced with sarcasm. "She'll protect you. Just like Atlas is gonna protect all of us, right? With big scary robots and cold shoulders?"
Winter's patience finally snapped. She drew her sword in one fluid motion, the bladed tip hovering inches from Qrow's throat. "If you won't hold your tongue, then I'll gladly remove it for you!"
Qrow didn't flinch. Instead, he grinned—a sharp, infectious smirk that didn't reach his tired, red eyes. He ran a hand through his dark hair. "Alright, then. Come and take it."
Winter didn't wait. She lunged, her movements a blur of military precision. She swung her blade in a horizontal arc, but Qrow moved like smoke, leaning back just far enough for the steel to whistle past his chest. Every strike Winter leveled at him was met with a casual, almost lazy dodge, until she finally forced his hand.
Qrow reached behind his back and unsheathed a massive, heavy broadsword. The two blades collided with a deafening clang, sending a shower of sparks flying across the courtyard. The speed of their exchange was staggering. To the gathering crowd of students, they were nothing but flashes of blue and red steel.
Just then, Ruby came sprinting back, her breathing heavy but the black veins successfully hidden beneath her sleeves. She skidded to a halt next to Weiss. "What is going on?!"
"Some guy showed up and he and my sister started fighting!" Weiss cried, her hands clenched in worry.
Ruby turned her gaze to the attacker. She frowned, a sense of dawning recognition washing over her. She thought back to the old, dusty photos in her father's study—the ones of the legendary Team STRQ. Her eyes widened, her jaw dropping. "...Oh. Oh, boy. Oh, no."
"Ruby? What's wrong?"
"He's... well, Yang and my dad... they told me I had another family member. But he was always out on top-secret missions. I never got to see him, not even once!" Ruby pointed a trembling finger at the man currently parrying Winter's flurry of strikes. "...I guess I found him. Weiss, that's my Uncle Qrow."
"WHAT?!" Weiss shrieked.
Nearby, Mercury Black was casually strolling by with a snack when he caught sight of the man in the red cloak. His face went pale, his eyes bulging in genuine terror. Without a word, he turned on his heel and sprinted in the opposite direction, wanting absolutely no part of whatever Qrow Branwen was involved in.
The fight grew more intense, moving from the airfield into the campus courtyard. Winter leaped back, summoning a white glyph in mid-air to propel herself forward with a burst of speed. Qrow slammed his sword into the ground, using the momentum to vault over her. He reached for a button on his hilt, the weapon beginning to hum and shift, its gears turning as it prepared to transform into its scythe form.
But he stopped. His red eyes caught sight of a familiar figure in the distance. He smirked, thumbing the button again to reset the sword to its neutral state. He raised a single finger, mockingly beckoning Winter to try again.
Furious, Winter launched herself off a second glyph. Her blade was inches from Qrow's neck when a booming, high-pitched command echoed through the square.
"SCHNEE!"
Winter froze mid-air, her boots skidding as she landed and immediately snapped into a stiff, trembling salute. General Ironwood stood nearby, his face a mask of stern disappointment, with Penny Polendina hovering curiously behind him.
"General Ironwood, sir!" Winter shouted.
"What in the world do you think you are doing?" Ironwood demanded.
"He started the altercation, sir," Winter argued, though her voice wavered.
Qrow tucked his hands into his pockets, looking the picture of innocence. "That's actually not true," he drawled. "She attacked first. I was just defending myself."
Ironwood sighed, his gaze shifting to Qrow. "And you. What exactly are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing, Jimmy. This is a school, not a military base."
"I—" Ironwood started, but he was cut off by the rhythmic tapping of a cane.
"Now, now, everyone," Headmaster Ozpin interrupted, strolling into the courtyard with a steaming mug of coffee. "Professor Glynda Goodwitch and I can assure you that there is a perfectly sanctioned fight happening at the Colosseum. It has better seats. And popcorn."
"Break it up, everyone!" Glynda added, her telekinetic crop glowing as she began to move the debris. "We will handle this mess."
As Ironwood and Winter turned to follow Ozpin, Qrow stayed behind. His eyes locked onto a girl standing a few feet away, her red cloak fluttering in the breeze. His heart, usually hardened by years of cynical scouting, felt a sudden, sharp pang.
He walked up to Ruby, his steps slow and uncharacteristically soft. He reached out, his hand hovering near her face before he pulled her into a crushing, protective hug.
"...You look so much like her," he whispered, his voice cracking just the slightest bit.
Ruby felt tears prick at her eyes. After years of stories and silhouettes, she was finally holding the man she had looked up to for so long. She squeezed back, burying her face in his tattered cloak.
Ozpin watched with a small, knowing smile, though he eventually cleared his throat. "Qrow. A word, please."
Qrow kissed the top of Ruby's head before pulling away, though he kept his hands on her shoulders. "I think I'm in trouble," he joked, winking at her.
Ruby laughed, wiping her eyes. "I mean... you did kind of tear up the courtyard, Uncle Qrow."
"Yeah, I did." He grinned, giving her one last squeeze. "Catch you later, kid. We have a lot to talk about."
As Qrow walked toward the Headmaster's office, Weiss stepped up beside Ruby, taking her hand. "Well... that was certainly... an entrance," Weiss whispered, still trying to process that the "drunk" who just fought her sister was Ruby's legendary uncle.
"Yeah..." Ruby said, watching him go with a proud smile. She leaned into Weiss's side. "Though, for the record? I think my uncle would have beaten your sister, no problem."
Weiss gasped, her competitive streak flaring up. "Excuse me? Winter was holding back! Why is everything a competition with you?"
Ruby just giggled, leaning her head on Weiss's shoulder as they walked away. "Because we're a team, Weiss. And my team's family is definitely the coolest."
"Preposterous!" Weiss huffed, though she didn't let go of Ruby's hand.
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The elevator doors hissed open at the top of Beacon Tower, revealing the expansive, gear-filled sanctuary of Ozpin's office. The rhythmic, mechanical heartbeat of the clocktower filled the room, a stark contrast to the volatile energy vibrating within.
Winter Schnee was a blur of white and blue, pacing the length of the green-tiled floor with a ferocity that suggested she wanted to strike someone. Across the room, General James Ironwood stood like a statue carved from steel and duty, his back to the door as he stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows at his fleet.
Ozpin stepped out first, followed by GlyndaGoodwitch and a disheveled, nonchalant Qrow Branwen.
Winter spun on her heel the moment they entered. "What were you thinking?!" she demanded, her voice rising to a sharp, accusatory pitch as she glared at Qrow. "Starting a brawl in the middle of a courtyard in front of students and visitors?!"
Ironwood didn't turn around immediately, but his voice was a low, dangerous rumble. "If you were one of my men, Qrow, I would have you shot for that stunt."
Qrow didn't even blink. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his silver flask, and unscrewed the cap with his thumb. "If I was one of your men, Jimmy, I'd shoot myself," he countered, his voice dripping with a casual, biting wit.
Glynda and Ozpin moved past them, their expressions weary. Glynda adjusted her glasses, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Winter. "While I certainly wouldn't condone his behavior—" she began, pausing to cast a disapproving look at Qrow, "—retaliating with such force in a public space certainly didn't help the situation, Specialist Schnee."
"He was drunk!" Winter shouted, gesturing wildly at the man in the red cloak.
"He's always drunk!" Glynda shouted back, her patience finally fraying.
The room fell into a sudden, awkward silence. Every pair of eyes landed on Qrow. He was currently mid-sip, his head tilted back. Realizing he was the center of attention, he slowly lowered the flask, shrugged with one shoulder, and cleared his throat. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and tucked the flask back into his inner pocket without a hint of shame.
Ozpin sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of centuries. He moved behind his desk and sank into his chair, the gears above him clicking softly. "Qrow, why are you here? Truly."
Ironwood finally turned, his face a mask of frustration. "You've been out of contact for weeks! You can't just go dark in the field, not with the stakes this high."
"I'm not one of your special operatives, Jimmy," Qrow said, leaning against a pillar.
"General," Winter corrected sharply.
"Whatever. You sent me out there to get intel on our enemy," Qrow said, his tone shifting from playful to deadly serious. "And I'm telling you... our enemy is here. Right under your noses."
Ironwood leaned over Ozpin's desk, his hands planted firmly on the surface. "We know."
Qrow's eyes flashed with irritation. "Oh! Oh, you know? Well, thank goodness I'm out there risking my life in the mud to keep you all informed! I feel so much better now!"
"Qrow!" Ironwood barked.
"Communication's a two-way street, pal," Qrow snapped back. He pulled out his Scroll and held it up, his thumb hovering over the screen. "You see this? That's the 'send' button. It works both ways. You didn't tell me you were bringing half the Atlas military to a school fair."
Winter stepped forward, her loyalty to the General flaring up. "They had every reason to assume you'd been compromised, considering your silence."
Qrow stepped into her space, his height making him imposing despite his slouch. "And I have reason to assume you don't need to be here. Seriously, who invited her to the grownups' table?"
Ironwood looked at Winter, then back to Qrow. He seemed to make a silent calculation. "Schnee, we'll discuss the courtyard incident back on my ship."
Winter's eyes widened, her professional mask slipping for a fraction of a second. "But, Sir...!"
"Winter," Ironwood said, his voice firm and leaving no room for debate. "Leave."
The sting of the dismissal was visible in the way Winter's jaw tightened. She took a sharp, jagged breath and nodded stiffly. "Yes, Sir." She pivoted, her heels clicking against the floor as she entered the elevator. As the doors slid shut, her face was a picture of wounded pride.
Once the elevator had descended out of range, the atmosphere in the room grew even heavier.
"Go on," Ironwood commanded.
"Your little infiltrator isn't just another pawn, James," Qrow said, reaching for his flask again but stopping himself. "They're the one responsible for Autumn's condition."
A chill seemed to settle over the office. Glynda gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "What? Are you certain?"
"As certain as I can be without a signed confession," Qrow replied. He walked toward the center of the room. "Despite what the rest of the world thinks, we're not just teachers, or generals, or headmasters. The people in this room... the leaders of the other academies... we're the ones who keep the world safe from the evils no one even knows exist. It's why we meet behind closed doors. It's why we work in the shadows."
He turned his gaze directly to Ironwood. "So tell me, James. When you brought your entire army to Vale, did you think you were being discreet? Or did you just not give a damn about the panic you'd cause?"
"Discreet isn't working," Ironwood replied, his voice echoing with conviction. He pulled out his own Scroll and placed it on Ozpin's desk. It synced instantly with the office's systems.
A massive holographic map of Beacon and the surrounding docks shimmered into existence in the center of the room. Small icons representing Atlas ships dotted the sky like a blanket of steel.
Ironwood walked into the middle of the hologram. "I'm here because this is what was necessary. The situation has escalated beyond shadows and whispers."
Qrow stepped into the map, his red cloak passing through the digital ships. "You're here because Ozpin wanted you here! He made you a part of this inner circle and opened your eyes to the real fight. He trusted your judgment."
"And I am grateful," Ironwood said, though his eyes remained fixed on his fleet.
"Oh well, you've got a real funny way of showing it," Qrow spat.
"The people of Vale needed someone to protect them," Ironwood argued, turning to face him. "Someone who would act, not just watch. When they look to the sky and see my fleet, they feel safe. And our enemies? They will feel our strength."
Qrow let out a short, bitter laugh that lacked any humor. "You... you actually think they're scared of your little ships? James, I've been out there. I've seen the things she has made. Let me tell you... they aren't scared of metal. They are fear itself."
"And fear will bring the Grimm," Ozpin said quietly, finally standing up from his desk. He walked toward the window, looking out at the city below. "A Guardian is a symbol of comfort. A protector who stands beside you. But an army? An army is a symbol of conflict. There is an energy in the air now—a question in the back of everyone's minds. They're asking: 'If this is the size of our defenses, what exactly is it we're expecting to fight?'"
Ironwood glared at Ozpin's back for a long moment, the tension between the two old friends nearly palpable. Finally, he sighed, the weight of the command visible in the slump of his shoulders. He reached out and grabbed his Scroll from the desk, the holographic map vanishing instantly. But not before a chess piece appeared and disappeared across James Scroll.
He tucked the device away and took a step back. "So then, Ozpin... what would you suggest we do?"
Ozpin turned, his eyes reflecting the ancient wisdom and the sorrow of many lifetimes. "I suggest we find our Guardian."
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The shadows in the small, unassuming dorm room seemed to stretch and twist, mimicking the restless energy of its occupants. **Cinder Fall** paced in a tight, predatory circle, the soft click of her heels against the floor the only sound in the tense silence. **Mercury Black** was sprawled in a nearby chair, his legs kicked out with a practiced air of boredom, though his sharp eyes never left Cinder.
"And you're absolutely certain?" Cinder asked, her voice low and dangerous. She stopped her pacing, turning her amber gaze toward him.
"Bad hair, a scythe that could cleave a Paladin in two, and he smelled like my old man after a particularly long night at the bottom of a bottle," Mercury confirmed, a slight smirk playing on his lips despite the gravity of the situation. "It was him. Qrow Branwen. There isn't another man on this planet who carries that kind of bad luck with him."
Emerald was leaning against the wall by the window, crossed her arms, her brow furrowed in concern. "What do we do? If he's here, he's looking for us. He's Ozpin's favorite lapdog for a reason."
Cinder took a long, measured breath, letting the information settle. A cold, calculating smile slowly spread across her face. "...Nothing," she decided. "We stay the course. Our disguises have held this long, and they have no reason to suspect three humble students from Haven. Besides, the most difficult part of the 'heavy lifting' is already being handled for us, thanks to our clever little friend's infiltration."
She crossed the room to a sleek, black desk and picked up her Tablet Scroll. The screen glowed with the image of a black chess piece—the Queen—pulsing over a map of the CCTS.
"Ahh," Cinder murmured, her eyes lighting up with dark satisfaction. "Speaking of which, it appears the General's arrival was more useful than we anticipated. We have a new access point."
"Anywhere good?" Emerald asked, stepping closer to see the scrolling lines of code.
"You could say that," Cinder replied. "It seems Ironwood's ego has given us a back door into the most secure files in the Kingdom. Our 'Black Queen' is currently feasting on their secrets." She looked up, her expression turning stern. "Go to your rooms. Rest. I need to finalize the preparations for tomorrow's spectacle."
Emerald turned to leave, but paused at the door, her eyes lingering on the tablet screen. "What about the girl? Ruby Rose?"
Cinder's thumb swiped across the screen, pulling up a holographic profile of Ruby. The image flickered, highlighting the data the Doctor had been collecting.
"The Doctor wants her intact," Cinder said, her voice devoid of empathy. "The substance he forced into her system on the train is doing exactly what he predicted. It's reacting with her biology, accelerating. She's becoming more of a monster with every passing hour. Soon, her will won't be her own. He'll have the control he desires."
Mercury let out a dry, cynical snort, rolling his eyes. "As if she wasn't already a freak. That 'beast' lurking inside her has been scratching at the door for years. The Doc just gave it a key."
Cinder shrugged dismissively, her focus returning to the screen. "Do not worry about her. She is a project nearing completion, and she will be ours for the taking once the chaos begins. For now, focus on your roles. Go. I have work to do."
Mercury and Emerald nodded and slipped out of the room, leaving Cinder alone in the dark.
She returned her attention to the tournament brackets, her fingers dancing across the glass. She scrolled past names and faces until she found the perfect targets—the heavy hitters of Beacon's upperclassmen. With a few taps, she overrode the randomizer, manually pairing the next match.
Emerald and Mercury's names appeared on one side. On the other, the names Coco Adel and Yatsuhashi Daichi flashed in bright gold.
Cinder's grin widened, reflecting the cold glow of the tablet. "Let's give the crowd a show they'll never forget," she whispered to the empty room. "After all, every tragedy needs a high-stakes opening act."
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The following morning, the atmosphere within the Amity Colosseum had shifted from festive to fiercely competitive. The air was thick with the scent of fried stadium food and the electric hum of anticipation. Thousands of spectators leaned forward in their seats as the massive holographic display above the center stage began to flicker, the names of the remaining combatants spinning in a digital blur.
Finally, the symbols locked into place with a resounding chime. The board displayed the portraits of Coco Adel and Yatsuhashi Daichi on the left, pitted against Emerald Sustrai and Mercury Black on the right.
"The randomization process is officially complete!" Professor Port's voice boomed over the speakers, carrying an octave of excitement that rattled the railings. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you your doubles tournament line-up! Prepare yourselves for a clash of titans!"
In the stands, the cheering was deafening. Blake, Yang, and the members of Team JNPR and Team SSSN were on their feet, shouting their support for the Beacon upperclassmen. The roar of the crowd was a physical force, but amidst the sea of waving banners and screaming fans, Ruby Rose sat eerily still.
Her silver eyes were fixed on the holographic board, but she wasn't seeing the names. Inside her, the beast wasn't just growling; it was thrashing. It was a cold, oily sensation that coiled around her lungs, a premonition of danger so sharp it made her skin crawl. The black veins beneath her combat skirt pulsed in a frantic, warning rhythm, reacting to an invisible malice that seemed to permeate the very air of the arena.
Ruby's gaze began to drift away from the screen, her hyper-focus scanning the thousands of faces in the crowd. Her vision, enhanced by the beast inside allowed her to pick out minute details from across the vast stadium.
And then, she found her.
Tucked away in a section of the crowd that seemed unnaturally shadowed sat Cinder Fall. She wasn't cheering. She wasn't wearing a team scarf or shouting at the top of her lungs. She was simply watching.
Across the great expanse of the Colosseum, their eyes locked. Cinder's lips curled into a slow, deliberate smile—a predatory expression that confirmed everything the beast was whispering in Ruby's ear. Without breaking eye contact, Cinder raised her hands. Slowly, mockingly, she began to clap. It was a silent, sarcastic applause that felt like a slap across Ruby's face, a gesture that said: Everything is going exactly according to plan.
Ruby felt a bead of cold sweat roll down her neck. The "randomization" felt like a lie, and as Cinder continued her slow, rhythmic clap, Ruby realized that the tournament was no longer a game. It was a trap, and the teeth were about to close.