1,634"Perhaps it's impossible to wear an identity without becoming what you pretend to be."
— Orson Scott Card
The medical tent was quiet when Yang awoke, the soft beeping of machines and low conversations between her teammates and medics serving as a comforting background noise. She tried to open her eyes, but shut them immediately, the bright lights sending a spike through her skull.
The nearest light was dimmed slightly, and Yang opened her eyes once more. A masked man stood over her, a medical insignia on his armband. She flinched slightly as he shined a penlight into her eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. She noticed Ruby looking at her out of the corner of her eye, and gave her sister a thumbs up.
"Could you sit up for me, please?"
Yang did as she was asked, brushing off the large man's attempt to help her swing her legs over the side of the bed. Her gaze wandered, her eyes feeling heavy as they drifted over to Ruby, who looked exhausted as she underwent the same exam as Yang.
The medic asked Yang to extend her hands. She did so idly, eyes still roaming the tent.
Pyrrha laid on her bed, her eyes closed but clearly awake, periodically shifting uncomfortably. The medics left her alone, which Yang took to mean they'd already checked her out. Jaune sat nearby, slumped against the wall and rubbing his temples with obvious discomfort, and equally unattended.
Nora and Ren spoke quietly, Nora speaking in a softer voice than Yang had ever heard from her. Blake seemed to be meditating, though Yang noticed the sagging of exhaustion in her shoulders. None of them had come through unscathed.
Yang dropped her hands and let the medic re-wrap a bandage on her arm.
Weiss sat on a bed near Ruby, calmly answering questions. She was even paler than usual, but showed no sign of injury other than the IV in her arm. Yang quickly looked away when a second medic moved to unhook it.
"Can you tell me today's date?"
Yang's attention was pulled back to her own medic, and she answered his simple questions without protest. They all had basic medical training — she knew what he was doing.
Several minutes of interrogation later, the medic stepped away with a 'suggestion' that she rest. Yang returned to laying down, closing her eyes and letting the bustle fade into the background.
A distant hum broke through the silence of the room a few minutes later, and Yang tensed, sitting up. Heads around the tent turned, and the noise quickly became unmistakable as a bullhead's engine.
The sound of rotors quickly grew deafening as the bullhead began its descent, sending pulses of dust and wind against the sides of the tent, causing the fabric walls to ripple. Her gut telling her she knew exactly who was on that bullhead, Yang was the first to stand. She pushed herself to her feet despite the protesting of her muscles, ignoring the soft admonishments of the medics. Anxiety flooded her as she was suddenly reminded of the big question mark.
Had they passed?
She frantically looked at Ruby to try and find an answer, but her sister's eyes were solidly locked on the flaps of the tent.
The rest of their team climbed to their feet one at a time, Weiss standing just as the bullhead touched down. Rotors kicked up a swirl of dust and debris, the tent flaps billowing open from the draft as Percy hopped out of the bullhead, his expression difficult to read.
He surveyed the scene outside, eyes sweeping over the war-torn fortress and lingering on the tower before settling on the eight of them.
Yang stood a little straighter, despite herself. Even the infamously stubborn medics, seeing who was outside, had by now given up on ushering them back to their beds.
He ducked into the tent, calmly taking in the scene that awaited him.
They were exhausted, every muscle aching. Their armor was torn and stained, and their Auras were largely depleted — those of them that had Aura left at all — but they stood tall.
"Would you give us a minute?" He turned to the nearest medic, smiling apologetically.
The snap of first against chests echoed around the tent as they saluted, and made their exit.
The tent was filled with a tense silence as they waited for the last of the medics to filter out.
"Even though it would be fun to torture you," he quipped once they were out of earshot, "I'll cut to the chase. You passed. Congratulations."
Yang nearly collapsed in relief. Weiss did collapse in relief, falling back onto her cot.
"Don't stand on my account." he waved them to their beds, "Gods know you've earned your rest."
They did as he suggested with varying levels of eagerness, Yang herself fighting not to lay down entirely.
"I'm proud of you all," he looked around the room. He met Yang's eyes, and she couldn't help but return his soft smile. She could feel his pride when he looked at her, his guard down and emotions on display. It was the first time she'd seen this side of Percy in months. This was the Percy she'd known growing up, and the realization that he was back paired with the relief of graduating…
Her smile widened until her cheeks hurt.
"It was only because we found a loophole in the Automatons' defenses," Pyrrha said softly. "If we hadn't, or I didn't have my semblance…"
Percy shook his head chidingly. "You still don't get it, do you Pyr? How many times do I have to say it? You can't cheat. There are no rules, so there are no loopholes — only flaws, to be exploited. Don't diminish Ruby's ingenuity by calling it cheating."
Pyrrha and Ruby flushed alike. Pyrrha looked down. "I'm sorry. I-"
"Don't apologise," Percy interrupted gently. "You've been taught your whole life to play by the rules, we all have." He looked around, meeting each of their eyes. He shot a wink at Yang, and she blushed. She knew she wasn't the biggest rule follower, but she wasn't that bad!
Was she?
"My point is that you succeeded. That's all that matters. Nothing about life is fair, and nothing about this is fair — the odds have been stacked against you from the beginning. You found a way to even the odds, so you survived."
"How were we supposed to pass without Ruby's discovery?" Jaune asked. "That allowed us to wipe out the majority of Winter's forces in one blow, and we still barely made it. We had to fight airships, bullheads, and hundreds of automatons, with a General commanding all of them. We should've lost."
Yang nodded. "We would've been screwed without deus ex Ruby."
Ruby groaned, and Blake rolled her eyes, but Percy just shot her an amused smile that quickly faded, their mentor sobering.
"I didn't think you'd pass," he admitted.
Silence.
"I designed the test with the expectation that you'd just barely fail," he continued. "— I gave Winter enough resources that she should have been able to win, and I know Winter well enough to know she would. The intention was that you'd have to push even further past your limits one last time to have a chance at winning. Despite intending for you to lose, part of me believed you'd overcome the odds. As it turns out, you surpassed my — very high — expectations."
Yang felt the words sink in. He hadn't thought they'd pass — at least, didn't think they had good odds. Yet they'd defied his expectations and made it through.
"What now?" Ruby was the one to ask. "I know we have the Vytal Festival soon, but after that what will we be doing?"
Percy shrugged. "Whatever you want. You're not my students anymore, what you do is up to you."
"We'll always be your students," Pyrrha objected. "If there's one thing I've learned in the years you've been teaching me, it's that."
Percy rolled his eyes, shoving his hands into his jeans. "Of course, Pyr. I'm always here if you want some extra drilling, and I'm sure we'll train sometimes. I just mean you're not… trainees anymore — you're not soldiers. You decide what you want to do. You don't have to do everything I tell you, or be so formal."
Yang, concealing a smile, raised her hand. He shot her a curious look.
"If that's true, could you stop talking like an old man?"
Nora and Ruby poorly concealed snickers.
Percy laughed lightly but genuinely. "Fair enough," he said, pulling up a chair and plopping himself down. "As for what you wanna do after Vytal — you've basically got two options. You can go back to Beacon and take classes as normal. Graduate in a few years and go hunt Grimm." he said, raising a finger.
"Or?" Blake prompted, crossing her arms, apparently not enthralled.
"Your other option," he continued, "is to drop out. If you do, you can do whatever you want. Virtually any role in Mistral's government or military is open to you if that's what you want to do. I'm also willing to certify you all as huntsmen right now. And don't worry — Winter agrees. She'd do it as a headmistress, officially, no workarounds or cheating the system."
Yang's mouth went dry. She didn't have a witty comeback this time. Neither did anyone else, by the look of things. They all stared, stunned by the offer.
"It wouldn't be a handout," he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You've earned it. I've been told there have been easier certification exams than what you went through. I know it might feel like you cheated, or skipped ahead, or are just kids, but trust me when I say that you're all on the level of huntsmen."
He looked at Jaune meaningfully, and the blonde looked down. Yang's jaw tightened. She had seen her friend on the receiving end of that look one too many times.
Not you, it shouted.
Anger rose in her throat, and Yang almost stood to defend him, but stopped herself. She'd talk to Percy after — right now speaking up would just embarrass Jaune.
The silence that came after, however, was so awkward that she began to wonder if speaking up would have been better.
"I… I don't think I'm ready to graduate," Ruby said, looking at Jaune sympathetically. "I mean, I'm barely sixteen! I don't think I'm ready to be an adult just yet."
"Me either," Yang quickly backed her sister up. "I mean, if we drop out, who'll kick Cardin's ass?"
"I'd like to stay as well," Pyrrha, looking at Jaune, forced a smile. She turned to Percy. "I appreciate your words and know you mean them, but we still have much to learn."
"Agreed." Weiss nodded.
"I'm not sure I'm too crazy about going back," Blake began. Ruby gasped dramatically, and Yang's eyes narrowed in faux anger. "But I suppose it'd be a bit boring without you guys. I'll stay too."
Every pair of eyes in the room became locked on Jaune.
The boy straightened. "Really, you have to ask? If you guys are staying in Beacon, of course I want to!"
"Ren, Nora?" Percy asked, before they could celebrate prematurely. Yang's face burned as her jaw snapped shut, cutting off a cheer.
"I've yet to be relieved of my duties in protecting Pyrrha," Ren said monotonously. He held the serious expression for a small handful of seconds before, for the first time Yang could remember, it cracked. He smiled faintly, "I'll stay if Nora is."
"Beacon has good pancakes!"
"Looks like Nora is staying," Yang grinned.
Cheers erupted from the tent, and Yang rose to her feet excitedly before the edges of her vision began to darken and she remembered why she was in a medical tent in the first place, quickly sitting back down. Percy smiled with them, and Yang found the genuine cheer in his smile refreshing.
"The rest can wait for later," Percy said, standing. The noise quickly died down. "I've gotta run, but you all take as long as you need. The house is yours — consider it a graduation gift. Rest up, you'll need it. You've got just over a week before classes start."
A groan chorused throughout the group, but they wore smiles as they waved Percy goodbye. Yang felt an anxiety she hadn't realized she had fade away, knowing they wouldn't lose the house — the place they had made a home.
RWBY's dorm is where RWBY had become a family, but the house is where they'd all become a family. They were battered, bruised, and exhausted. But they were also stronger, more confident, and more united than ever before. They were ready for whatever came next. They were ready to return to Beacon, not just as students, but as a force in their own right.
Knowing, with all the confidence of youth, that their story was just beginning.
"I'm just saying," Winter groaned, hissing quietly as she lowered herself into the hot water. "Did you have to train her that well?"
Percy snorted. "Sorry, you're right. I should've toned it down a bit with Pyrrha, she's clearly too strong."
Winter eyed him from the corner of her eye as he got undressed, forgetting what she was about to say as she watched him hook two thumbs into the band of his underwear and slowly-
"See something you like?"
Winter's face turned beet red, and turned her head away — though that didn't stop her from covertly appreciating the show from either of the mirror-covered walls.
The muscles in his back flexed as he lowered himself in next to her, smirking cockily. She glared daggers at him, hating how easily he got to her.
Wordlessly, Winter pressed herself into his side. He raised an arm to welcome her into the crook of his shoulder and she leaned her head on his chest, feeling as every sore muscle began to slowly unwind. His arm wrapped around her, tugging her closer to him. She adjusted, welcoming the close contact.
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and feeling all of her stress seep out of her as she exhaled. It was a bliss she could only get from one source, a comfort only one person could give her.
The thing she hated most about Percy was also the thing she liked the most: he made her feel like a girl.
It hadn't always been that way, but she'd started to notice it more and more. She naturally let her guard down when they were alone together, more than she ever did. When she was in his arms, she felt safe in a way that defied logic and reason — after all, there was very little on Remnant that she was not capable of handling herself. But when he held her, she knew it was the safest place in the world.
That was one way, but there were others. The way she found herself appreciating him when he wasn't looking. The way she missed him when she returned to a cold bed each night. The way she thought of him every time she smelled the ocean breeze. It went against everything she'd believed herself to be — still believed herself to be, when it wasn't about him.
Soon enough even those thoughts faded away, and she enjoyed the comfortable silence. Her skin on his, the comfort of the warm water, and the sound of the jets propelling bubbly water around the tub. They didn't have many moments like this, so peaceful. No negotiations, no wars, not even sex. It was innocent in a way that almost nothing in her life was anymore.
Sweat and condensation began to coat her face, but she didn't dare move a muscle for fear that if she did, she would never again in her life feel so comfortable.
Bzzzzzzt
Which, of course, is exactly when his scroll started vibrating.
Winter groaned, burying her face into the crook of his neck. She halfheartedly tugged him back as he got out of the hot tub and returned with his scroll.
'Sorry' he mouthed, answering the call.
She didn't bother responding, just slotting herself back under his arm when he sat back down.
"What's up?"
"..."
"Or maybe she's just hiding from you." he snorted. Winter shifted uncomfortably, annoyed by the movement of his chest.
She hissed, startled as the water suddenly began to move around her. Quickly, however, it began pressing into different spots all around her body. A stream of pressure rolled up and down her back while her legs and feet were gripped by currents that rolled and squeezed, teasing the stress out of her. Her eyes fluttered closed as she relaxed under Percy's attention.
"Okay, okay, I'll ask, and I'll let you know when I find her. But if she doesn't want you to know where she is, I'm not telling you."
Winter's nails dug into Percy's back as the water worked a particularly sore spot on her butt, groaning softly into his chest as years of tension slowly melted away. His hand stroked her shoulder idly, and Winter hugged him tighter.
He laughed. "Yeah yeah, fair point I guess. Funny to think after all this time I'm still running the same errands for you. By the way, did you get my message?"
Winter shook her head quickly, arching her back as a stream of water pressed into her a bit too firmly. It immediately let up, lightly teasing at her back. She let herself sink until she was up to her neck, and the soothing, hot water quickly went about massaging her arms, shoulders, and neck — every inch of muscle below her head, really. She groaned slightly louder, steeped in bliss.
"Yeah, that one. It's about Yang and Ruby. Might want to watch it when you get the chance — I sent it to Tai, too. Make a night out of it."
"..."
"You'll find out, but trust me when I say you'll wanna watch it. Anyway, I'll let you know if I hear anything."
"..."
"Yeah, same. Later."
He ended the call but didn't put his scroll away, instead typing out a message. Winter didn't mind — let him be on his scroll all day, she could stay here forever.
Despite that, he sent the message and put his scroll to the side, reclining in the water with her. She didn't think it was possible to nestle herself into the crook of his shoulder any deeper, but she certainly tried.
Bzzt Bzzt
It buzzed just seconds later, and he reached for it again.
Winter felt him tense, and the water pressure faded away.
She wiped the steam from her eyelids, blinking them open. Percy's jaw clenched anxiously, his lips set in a firm line. She watched as he typed a quick reply.
"What's wrong?" she asked, professionalism quickly slamming into place.
Rather than speak, he shoved his scroll toward her. It was opened to a message log with a contact named Istos, who Winter recalled easily was the relatively new head of the clan Malachite. Quickly, her eyes jumped to the beginning of the conversation.
'Need you to find Raven Branwen for me.'
'Raven Branwen has not been seen in some months. The Branwen tribe splintered several weeks ago.'
Winter froze. She hadn't thought about the third member of their training trio since they had left her camp. Her teammate against Percy in combat and sort-of rival for his affections hadn't been heard from in months, and it hadn't even crossed her mind.
The realization stung more than she'd expected it to.
With the siege of Vale and everything getting so busy, she just hadn't thought it was odd that the woman didn't make an appearance. From what she gathered Percy tended to seek her out, not the other way around, so it was no wonder that he hadn't found her silence odd either.
But still, to hear she had been missing for so long sent a spike of worry through her chest that she didn't expect. She gnawed at her cheek, eyes dropping to the last message.
Find her.
"Just because you do not take an interest in politics doesn't mean politics won't take an interest in you."
- Pericles
"I am not asking. The students are to be transferred immediately."
Argus' secretary — Sir Nigel — shifted awkwardly in the holo-projection. "My lady, I wish for the same as you but I've tried to tell you-"
"I've heard everything you have to say," Pyrrha cut him off. "I've heard every excuse, if not from the Principal then from you. I will no longer hear it — they will face justice."
The principal's image flickered slightly as he leaned forward. "Of course we intend to comply with the law, Pyrrha. However, the legality of the transfer is in dispute." His voice was patronizing — belligerent. She didn't fail to notice that he'd called her by her first name, too, as if she was still just a student.
She had never before been angered by being called her own name.
"Then you can sue while they're in custody." She deadpanned, refusing to rise to the bait.
"And we're disputing whether or not custody should be transferred in the first place," he explained. "A judge has ruled that custody is to remain with use until the courts have settled the case."
"I am settling it," she asserted.
For a moment Pyrrha considered dismissing the judge outright, but reeled herself in.
The principal raised an eyebrow. "With respect, I disagree that you have the authority to do that."
"I am charged with the protection and welfare of Argus," she snapped.
"And I," the principal emphasized belligerently, "Am charged with the protection of all of Remnant."
She stared at him. She could see exactly what he was doing, and it nearly worked. Her knuckles whitened beneath the desk, but she held herself in check.
The problem was, if he truly was openly defying her, she couldn't do anything about it. She couldn't order the mayor to enforce it since the police wouldn't be able to force the school into anything, and it's not like she could single-handedly beat the entire faculty into submission, either.
She needed to buy herself time to think — even just a little bit. She couldn't afford to appear weak, even — especially — if she was.
"You have my decree." she said, voice hard. "You have twenty-four hours to comply."
"We will always comply with the law," the principal mocked. "Including international law."
Pyrrha ended the call.
Rising rigidly to her feet, Pyrrha stood there for a moment in silence, turned on her heel, and left.
Jaune looked up from his book when Pyrrha entered the lounge. Yang was flicking through her scroll on the couch next to him, and Weiss sat in the corner, quietly organizing dust cartridges on a coffee table. They'd been in a comfortable silence for well over an hour now, all of them enjoying the sudden free time they found themselves with.
Pyrrha didn't say anything at first. She just took off her jacket, and began re-tying her hair.
"Jaune, spar?"
He blinked. "Uh… yeah, sure." he sat the book aside. "You okay?"
She paused mid-adjustment.
"No," she said. "Not really." Her voice was tired, but steady. "I need advice."
That got Yang's attention, the girl glancing up from her scroll. Jaune stood, brow furrowed.
Pyrrha exhaled. "I had a call with the secretary and the principal. I finally put my foot down, and they're still refusing. I gave a direct order for the students to be transferred into custody. They refused."
Jaune frowned sympathetically. "There has to be a way you can make them obey the law," he protested.
"There's nothing I can do." she shook her head. "The judge ruled custody stays until the lawsuits are settled. And I… I can't enforce anything from here. I can't order the mayor to act because the staff are huntsmen, the police don't stand a chance against them." She clenched her jaw. "It's like I'm shouting across Remnant and they've just decided not to listen, and there's nothing I can do about it."
Jaune's jaw tensed, hands curling into fists. "You shouldn't have to force them. They're ignoring you because they think they can get away with it. That's not a system. That's just abusing their power."
"You should go beat it into them," Yang muttered, only half joking.
"I can't do that," Pyrrha hesitated. "It would be attacking the principal of a combat school. And that's assuming the rest of the faculty don't back him up and attack me. Threats of violence aren't the answer."
"I think Yang's right," Jaune said.
Yang looked up from her scroll, eyebrows raised. "You do?"
"You have the authority, you just can't enforce it. Because you're not there — because they think you can't force them."
"So?"
"So go there!" Jaune urged. "Enforce it. The team can go with you."
Pyrrha blushed. "That's a lot of drama to make one incident." she reeled back, hesitant. "Forcefully entering and personally arresting the principal is… an escalation."
"They're not just breaking the law," Jaune added, voice tight. "They're using their power as huntsmen to stay above it. They're not saying no — they're daring you to make them stop."
Pyrrha shifted uncomfortably, clearly conflicted.
"I agree with Jaune," Weiss chipped in without looking up. "They need to be put in line or they'll take it as permission to do whatever they want. Were they anyone else, the police would force them. Refusing despite that is an implicit threat of violence — that they'll retaliate if you try to enforce the law."
She always tried to handle things without force, but what other choice did she have? Part of her thought it would be best just to drop it, but a far larger part of her hated the thought of giving in. She owed it to the families of the people who had died, if nothing else. Sanctum was bullying its way into getting away with murder, and she was in a position to do something about it.
"I just… it's a lot to ask." Pyrrha said, the fight slowly leaving her posture. "Dragging everyone across the kingdom to solve my problem. I don't want to pressure anyone into that."
Yang stood abruptly. "Fine, then I will. Weiss? Jaune?"
"Yes," Weiss said, slotting another cartridge with a soft click.
"Absolutely," Jaune agreed without hesitation.
Yang marched off, returning less than a minute later with the rest of their team in tow.
"We're in!" Nora exclaimed, looping her arms over Yang's shoulders.
Pyrrha blinked. It was so fast.
She looked to Ren, who nodded firmly. Then to Ruby, whose expression was soft but steady. No doubt there. And finally, to Blake.
They had never been very close. In fact, she couldn't recall a single one-on-one conversation that qualified as more than small talk. Pyrrha wouldn't blame her for staying behind.
Blake met her gaze, and nodded once, the corners of her mouth curling into a quiet smirk. "So, when do we leave?"
Pyrrha's voice caught in her throat. She'd expected resistance. Debate. A need to justify herself.
Instead, they'd stood without hesitation.
For her.
Pyrrha beamed, standing just a little straighter. "I gave them twenty four hours. Let's be there to remind them when their time runs out."
"Perseus." Istos bowed.
"Please, sit," Percy grunted, in a worse mood than he meant to be.
Istos took a seat across from him in one of the tacky luxury chairs. They were at his old office in Windpath — his first office, which Shiro had kept reserved for him — and he had to admit it was a bit nostalgic.
"Sorry if I'm short tempered." Percy poured the man a glass of wine. "I meant for this to be a pleasant meeting, but the recent news about Raven has me a bit… irritable."
Istos dipped his head again, accepting the offered wine gratefully. "Please accept my most humble apologies for my failure to inform you, I was not aware yourself and Raven Branwen were so… involved."
"Don't worry about it," Percy said gruffly. He swallowed a mouthful of the Vacuan spirit, focusing on the burning sensation it left on his tongue and in the back of his throat. "That was by design."
He shook his head, setting down his now empty glass of wine and refraining from getting another. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out a large stack of black cards and placing them on the table. Istos looked at it curiously.
"A thank you," Percy explained, "Or a commission, whichever you prefer. Clan Malachite has been performing better — more consistently — since you took over. I punish those who fail me, so it's only right I reward the ones who succeed. I've put off rewarding you for far too long. That Lien is the first of your quarterly increase in budget, which is one boon. The other, I'll ask you to name."
Percy was being half honest. The Malachites had been doing better, but that wasn't the only reason he was so eager to treat the Malachites. That they had found Blake…
He wasn't keen to let Istos know how much it meant to him, but he was feeling generous all the same.
Istos showed no sign of surprise, and Percy wondered if he didn't have a semblance similar to Ren's — one that allowed him to suppress emotion. The man didn't have Aura to Percy's knowledge, but he wouldn't be the most surprised if it turned out he did.
"I only wish to serve," he dipped his head humbly again, averting his eyes.
Percy waved off the bow impatiently. "Do away with that," he commanded. "You might not care about money, but you're an ambitious man. Perhaps you only wish to serve, but even the most selfless servant wants to serve in the greatest capacity possible. I'm sure there's something you want that's within my power, so name your request."
Istos sat straight, and spoke without hesitation. "I would humbly request that the Clan Malachite be named the official intelligence service of Mistral, and answer only to yourself. Such a declaration would legitimize the family, and bring our name prestige to last the ages. It would be a show of confidence, a message to my family that we are here to stay."
"Done," Percy answered instantly. "I don't consider that worthy of being considered a reward. It's only rightful, given your family's service. Name something else."
Istos paused, then opened his mouth but froze, visibly hesitating.
"Whatever it is, name it," Percy encouraged him. "Even if I don't grant it, I won't hold an ambitious request against you."
"I would request that you allow the reinstatement of the Black Vipers under the Clan Malachite."
The corners of Percy's mouth dipped, and he decided to pour himself that second glass after all.
He remembered them. The clan he'd rescued Ren from — the one he'd ordered wiped out.
"How would you?" he asked. "If they're all dead?"
"They are famously secretive," Istos granted. "However, when they were destroyed we were able to collect their trainings, teachings, and texts. If it does not prove sufficient, there is one survivor who may be able to-"
"No," Percy shut down the idea. "I'll consider reinstating the clan, but Ren will have nothing to do with it. The less savory practices will have to go, too. No abducting children to recruit."
"We will not abduct any children," Istos agreed, "But members must be molded from a very young age to achieve the proficiency and loyalty required of the Black Vipers — not to mention the physical resistance they must build up to myriad toxins in their childhood. As you insist, however, we would only take willing volunteers. It would be seen as an honor for children to join the ranks of the Black Vipers, families would volunteer. We could save lives, as well — recruit from orphanages, or the survivors of destroyed settlements."
Percy hesitated. He couldn't think of any family that would volunteer, but he had hardly grown up in Mistral. Either way, he really didn't like the idea of kids being involved on any level. Indoctrinating kids — with the consent of their parents or not, saving their lives or not — was really not something he thought he could justify.
"I'll think about it," he finally said. "Let me speak to-"
A knock at the door interrupted him, and Percy shared a curious look with Istos.
"Come in!" Percy called.
A Malachite entered, their long purple robes denoting them as a senior member of the clan — a family member, whether adopted or natural. The older man bowed deeply towards them when they entered, approaching and bending down to whisper in Istos' ear.
He withdrew, and Istos hummed, eyes flickering to Percy's.
"It seems there's an incident you should be aware of in Argus."
Gods, it had been a long time. Too long.
Pyrrha looked down at her hometown as they flew over, spotting the streets and shops she had grown up with. She hadn't been here since before their training — before Beacon had started, even.
The sprawling, quaint city was just as she remembered it, the reconstruction from Atlas' occupation long since completed.
She hadn't announced her return, so there was no fan-fare on their arrival. Pyrrha hesitated as the others disembarked, knowing she was bound to be recognized the moment she stepped out.
Yang grinned back at Pyrrha as she climbed out. "Comin', Pyr?"
Pyrrha nodded, mentally preparing herself for her least favorite part of the job — not that she would have been inconspicuous otherwise.
It took a second longer than she thought it would've before the first cries of recognition drew attention.
Though she didn't enjoy it, Pyrrha had lived nearly her entire life as a celebrity. Smiling and waving was second nature, as was forcing herself not to speed walk away from the stares and whispers.
Her teammates formed a barrier around her, and soon several police arrived to help carve a path through the crowed. Pyrrha kept her expression serious, eyes straight ahead. It was tempting to greet her fans — her people — with kindness and compassion, but she was about to do something which would be seen by many as a large overstep. She couldn't afford to appear as anything but professional — nay, regal.
Her team knew that, and though she hadn't said anything all of their own faces remained devoid of emotion. Even Yang, who Pyrrha knew would love to go wild in a crowd like this, didn't crack so much as a smile.
The faint noise of their armor clanking was audible over the clamor of the masses, and Pyrrha knew they had to be quite the sight — eight huntsmen in training in full battle gear.
"Yang, grab that officer," Pyrrha nodded towards one of the many officers managing the crowd.
Yang patted him on the shoulder as they passed, and he turned, confused. He was a young man, maybe a few years older than her, but certainly not a higher up.
Without breaking stride, Pyrrha gestured him over with a single finger. He turned, instantly forgetting the crowd to jog over to her. Yang stepped out of the way, creating a small gap for them to speak.
"Get word to the commissioner," Pyrrha ordered clearly, voice low but authoritative. "I need two squads sweeping and securing Sanctum within the hour. And tell him to have a maximum security cell block ready."
The officer's eyes widened. He hesitated, clearly struggling to decide whether he should ask for a reason.
"Tell him it's Baroness Nikos's direct order," Pyrrha emphasized. "There must be no delay."
His decision was made apparent with a deep bow. "O-of course! Right away, my lady!"
They arrived at Sanctum a short walk later, the police having thankfully not yet arrived.
The school loomed in front of them, just as she remembered it: grand, striking, prestigious. The outer walls were a graceful blend of classical stone and sleek steel framework, framed by stained-glass panels that shimmered in the sunlight. Sanctum had always been a symbol of Argus — a place where the legacy of Mistral met the innovation of Atlas, reflecting the character of the settlement itself.
It hadn't changed.
Jaune and Ruby, at the front of the formation, stepped aside to make way for her. Ruby gave Blake a thumbs up, and Jaune shot Ren a nod. At once the two detached themselves from the group, Blake quickly beginning to scale the outside of the building while Ren ducked around the nearest corner, hugging the wall.
At once Pyrrha realized they had planned this out behind her back, and felt flattered. She trusted them — it was touching that they cared.
As they crossed the front plaza, a few faculty on a balcony above paused their conversation. A pair of students near the main doors froze mid-step, staring. One of them nudged the other, whispering furiously. A moment later, a hushed murmur traveled through the atrium, echoing off polished marble floors and tall glass walls. That they were arriving in the middle of a class was not an accident. She didn't want to see the chaos that would erupt if they had arrived while everyone was rushing through the hallways.
Pyrrha recognized every inch of the entrance hall — the sunlit corridor, the towering statue of the founding noble in the middle, the bench at the statue's feet. The smell of polish and reinforced leather wafted from the sparring gym. She remembered sitting at that bench, in uniform, waiting for her mom to pick her up after she'd been suspended for winning a spar a bit too thoroughly.
Their boots echoed as they crossed the marble. She saw herself reflected in the glass walls — older, armored, composed. She was a different person now. The staff had no control over her — she was no longer at the mercy of their whims.
They were at the mercy of hers.
The power came with both a feeling of freedom and an unexpected weight. She was the one in control, and she had to make sure she used that power responsibly.
Pyrrha led the way through the atrium, past rows of display cases and holo-screens. Her eyes caught glimpses of her own legacy among the academy's decor — old championship photos, training weapons she'd outgrown, trophies with her name etched in gold. She had moved on, but for the first time she saw proof that her legacy remained.
It was surreal.
They reached the main elevator — tall, brushed-steel doors flanked by stylized pillars carved with the Sanctum crest. The ride up was silent except for the low hum of the lift and the occasional jostle of armor. As they ascended, the cityscape came into view through a wide vertical window. Pyrrha stood at the front, her arms clasped behind her back as she waited patiently for the elevator to arrive.
The top floor was quieter. Carpeted, understated, and cool, it felt more like a council building than a school. Authority radiated from the clean walls and glass-paneled offices. Pyrrha had always thought the administration offices in an actual academy would command even more respect, but in hindsight Sanctum's efforts came off as forced - trying too hard to instill a sense of prestige.
Reception sat at the center, manned by a single woman who looked up in confusion as they approached.
"Hello, how may—?"
The woman froze halfway through her sentence as she took in the group — and Pyrrha at the center of it. Her mouth hung open.
Pyrrha didn't stop walking.
"Wait, the principal is currently in a meeting, I can—"
She pushed open the principal's office door.
Inside, three heads turned — the principal and two instructors mid-discussion.
"We're in the middle of—" the principal started, rising from his chair.
Then he saw her.
The room fell silent.
Sunlight streamed through a skylight overhead, casting sharp beams across the office floor. Pyrrha stepped inside, the light catching the edges of her armor.
The instructors moved immediately, shifting in their seats, hands drifting subtly toward their weapons.
Pyrrha didn't flinch. Her team remained at the door, unmoving. Waiting.
"Baroness Nikos," the principal greeted, tone dipped in false politeness. "To what do we owe the honor?"
Pyrrha's expression was cold. This man had mocked her, undermined her, and put himself above the law — and now that they were face to face he had the nerve to feign surprise, to continue mocking her, to act like he was untouchable. "You were given twenty-four hours to comply with a legal order," she said icily. "That deadline expired thirty-seven minutes ago."
The tension in the room spiked. One instructor clenched his jaw, the other bracing to stand.
"You're here to... what? Arrest me?" the principal sneered. "You expect to walk in here with a team of students and take me into custody?"
"I'm here to ensure the law is upheld. And yes, I will be taking you into custody."
He scoffed. "If you were here to uphold the law, we would be in agreement. Now please leave my office until you are invited back. You may wait in the lobby. I will only ask once."
"I will not do that. You are under arrest. Comply or be restrained, it's your choice." Pyrrha stepped forwards.
One of the instructors moved to stand, bracing his hands against the armrests.
Weiss was there in an instant, Myrtenaster poised at his neck with a flash of steel. Jaune stood over the other, Crocea Mors pressed against their collarbone. Nora stood between them, hammer in hand, eyeing both eagerly.
Neither man had time to so much as flinch.
The principal's chair rolled as he stood, and a hand darted toward his waist.
A flicker of black, and a pale hand was firmly grasping his wrist. A curved knife hooked around his throat, the pressure light but unmistakable. He froze.
A light breeze wafted in from the open skylight, papers on the desk rustling.
Yang stepped forward and seized his wrist, pulling him back with practiced force. "You are under arrest for threatening a sitting Baroness," she said, unusually professional, locking the man's arms behind his back. Ruby walked around them, activating the principal's terminal, busily navigating around the school's system.
"This is absurd," the principal snarled, twisting uselessly against Yang's grip. "You're a child on a power trip — you think this will stand? You have no authority here!"
Yang's grip tightened and Blake's knife pressed against his side painfully, bleeding Aura and silencing further protests as Pyrrha calmly strode around the desk. "I'm granting her the authority," she said firmly, looking him in the eye. "And you've exhausted every courtesy I might've extended."
This time, neither instructor moved an inch.
The principal scowled, but Blake and Yang held him motionless. "You have mistaken your position, girl. This is a line you will regret crossing."
"I doubt it," Pyrrha deadpanned, somewhat surprised to find she was as calm as she acted. He could do nothing - he had nothing over her, no leverage. Not anymore. Threats would get him nowhere.
As they began to march him out, Pyrrha glanced toward the reception area.
The secretary was frozen pale, hands glued to her sides. Next to her, Ren leaned against her desk, calm and unreadable, a dagger lazily dancing between his fingers. There was a new gash in the wood of the woman's desk, a few inches from the intercom.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime.
Yang, Weiss, and Pyrrha stepped inside with their prisoner, Blake still close behind, knife gripped in one hand. The doors slid closed, and when they opened again at the bottom, the atmosphere had changed.
Dozens of Argus officers were already storming the atrium, spreading out into neat, practiced formations. Thankfully, the commissioner had taken Pyrrha's command seriously. The polished calm of the school now buzzed with urgency. Students flooded the halls, fighting to look over balconies that lined each floor, eager to see what the commotion was.
A group of three officers led by a captain intercepted their group. Yang passed the cuffed principal to the two lower-ranking officers, who continued escorting him.
"My Lady?" the captain greeted.
"Lock down the school's terminals and confiscate the faculty's scrolls," Pyrrha ordered. "Sweep the entire building - make sure no evidence will be lost."
"On the top floor, there's a girl with a red cloak." Weiss added, speaking with authority. "She will give you a list of suspects. Take them into custody under suspicion of conspiracy to commit treason and accessory to treason. The three students in the detention center are to be transferred into municipal custody under charges of manslaughter."
The officer, uncertain, looked to Pyrrha.
Pyrrha nodded. "Do as she says."
"Understood." The captain nodded sharply, and turned to carry out the orders.
Pyrrha exhaled slowly.
She — they — had done it. They had shown up, and backed up her words. After weeks of back and forth and posturing, in one day she'd ended it.
She turned to watch as the police stormed the rest of the school, all on her order. Blake, Weiss, and Yang joined her, observing the chaos as it unfolded.
She had worn the title of Baroness for months, but for the first time, it didn't feel like she was acting out a part. It felt real.
I hope you enjoyed! gf was in town this week and work was hectic so I lost some of my pre-written lead, but hoping to gain some of it back next week. Thank you all for your support! Despite losing a lot of my lead, still loving writing again. Hope it shows :)
Also, what was your favorite scene this chapter, and why was it the hot tub scene?
Next Chapter May 15