5

Author's Note:

Writing Cinder's POV is fun.

This is the last 'previously, on RWBY' part of the story. Then some more character fluff. The problem with this story's current writing style, that is 'write whatever I want with no planning' is that I don't know what is important and what isn't. So there is a lot of noise. Normally I would do a big draft like this, a simulation of a world, and the cut away all fat. Make it concise and tidy it up.

Ah, Pantsers vs Plotters, the old struggle. This is deeply in a Pantser style, so please forgive the mess. It's also why I don't know how long the story is going to take or how it will turn out. Instead it writes itself.

One of the most irritating things I'm actually running into is dividing things into chapters. I feel like that's a strange problem, but I'm used to writing my fanfic exclusively for myself. Which means massive documents with no breaks. Where does a 'chapter' end and the next one start? If I were writing this like a Plotter, then that could be resolved. Well, everything is kind of turning out alright at about 10k words each chapter.

Partial Maiden Yuki Tenno

Atlas and Mantle are underwater, only a few thousand of their people saved. Saved to die in the deserts of Vacuo.

The room is silent.

Sound of ticking clockwork is overwhelmed by the silence of total failure.

Seconds pass. Minutes maybe.

"And then what?" Ruby asks. The story can't end here, the hero has to save the day! Keep fighting, no matter what!

She wasn't smiling. I didn't tell how obvious it was to watch her smile fades over the years, how her bright optimism is ground down. 'Whatever you wanted, I hope it was worth it.'

"The Volume ends." The story ends. The bad guy wins. Rooster Teeth collapses under it's own foul enterprise, probably, and that is all there is to it.

"Is there another?" Please, she begs me, please tell me it doesn't end there.

"The show was called RWBY. R. W. B. Y." I spell out each letter. "It followed the story of four girls who went to a school to fight monsters, only find the world wasn't so simple." No. I'm sorry, Ruby.

I take a breath. "There were promises for a 9th Volume, statements that it was already animated and almost ready, but, the company has lied before. Often. Rooster Teeth... isn't a good company. Crunch, harassment, lying to the fanbase, mismanagement... RWBY in particular has always been badly managed, which considering it's basically their flagship property..."

I sigh and clarify. "Story wise, by Terran standards, yes. There would be some recovery and then heroic return. A Volume or two in Vacuo, then one that retakes Beacon before heading into the final fight with Salem. But... Rooster Teeth is a bad company, morally bad, financially bad, management bad... It's fitting that their main property ends like this."

I'm sorry. That's the end. Even if Volume 9 is released, even if they manage to squeeze out a 10th Volume. The show is a limping mess, it always has been. Even before Monty died, he only really wanted to do fight scenes, leaving the story part of the show to two unsuitable writers. Anime homework, as funny as the idea is, the fact that it was assigned means that they did not know the medium they were to write in.

Every genre is different, and what they wanted to write RWBY as, what they did for the Fall of Beacon and afterwards... Well, that wasn't anything like their previous experience.

"So, not just a show, but a badly written one." Raven snorts. "And you all believe her?"

"You didn't see Ozma screaming and trying to kill her." Qrow bites back. Screaming, that's one way to put it. Or was that what he was doing after I fell? I was too numb with the shock he actually tried to kill me. Funny how I just put that aside and forgave him.

No, not funny. My absolute zero self worth showing itself again.

Wait, Qrow called him Ozma, not Oz or Ozpin. Just like how I call Earth Terra, or the White Fang the Red Fang, he is distancing himself from him.

"I... Considering the conditions I confess I might have made the same decisions." James sounds ashamed. It's not your fault, you were played and lost.

"Only Nora and I know about the wooden hammer." Ren supports me and I thank him with a nod. I'm still not sure where we stand, I tried to... Learn and move on.

"She knows you're a Maiden, that Vernal is a fake." Yang reveals the extent of my knowledge, Raven is taken aback. Not something that got spoken over drinks then.

Winter and Weiss look to eachother. Winter speaks. "Father... Would do that. He didn't know about what his password would be used for. Profit, at any cost." She spits the last line with more hatred than I thought her capable of.

"The only possible explanation I can see is using the Relic of Choice, but that isn't so... Informative. It is also still locked away, I have kept my eye on her ever since she awoke, there has not been a chance for her to acquire and use it." Ozma backs me, as much as that is worth to the current audience. "Nor would it give her the knowledge from the Lamp."

Damm. "There goes that hack." I mutter. "Thought myself clever to use the Crown to mine questions."

"I did think of that one myself." Ozma smiles at me, half something in it. Oh, so you're not a total idiot. Just most of one.

Stay awake please, I'm not done.

"You're an Alien?" Raven, I can hear the capitalisation in the word. It's not that surprising, right? Oh, she is starting to believe me, that's what it's about.

"She's a horse." Pyrrha states with absolute conviction.

The comment is so unexpected I suddenly wheeze at it. Oh dear sweet Faulty-Ragdoll-Physics, I forgot all about that. I was in my max-cringe MLP OC form when I was in the soulscape.

"Wait, what?" Nora loudly yells. Ow. Wait, I think she's trying to take everyone's mind off the story.

I take a breath in and try to explain, try to retain my dignity. "First, it's pony based not horse." Stupid sleep brain, that is not how we maintain dignity. "And second, I am technically an Alicorn."

"Like with wings and a horn?" Ruby is smiling again, and everyone seizes on the distraction. I'll tell them I'm not a Pony afterwards. Once they have had their fun, once they distraction has passed.

"Alicorns are very powerful! Princess Celestia-"

"Magical Pony Princesses from another dimension. Now I've herd everything." Yang puns dryly. Ruby groan and the group groans. The world is okay, you are all still alive. Qrow even laughs.

He stops laughing long enough to make a jab at me. "No wonder you can't holds a sword. No thumbs!"

"How do you walk?" I blink and stare at Jaune. "I mean, hor-" I glare. "Ponies have four legs." Better.

Maybe. Less dignified, but accurate. Stupid brain.

"By letting the body do the work, how do you walk on two legs?" I jab back. "Do you think every step you take, hm?" I grin as I make a follow up attack, a little trick. "How about breathing? You are now aware of your own breathing."

Nora begins to react, playing up the distraction everyone. "REN! I can't breathe!"

"You have been doing it all your life, Nora. Try to remember." Thank you, you two. She gasps air and a few more smiles crack.

See? Everything is going to be okay.

Then Taiyang makes a pun. "I prancy what the big deal is about."

Oh no. Everything is not going to be okay. "Please don't." I beg.

"Whinny going to do about it?" Yang grins and I see Ruby holding her head.

I close my eyes and try to calm myself. "Note to self, prank Pyrrha."

"You canter do that!" I open my eyes. Weiss? You too? Groans around the circle start.

"I am betrayed." I sigh. "Alright, might as well get them all out of the way."

"You mean all out of the hay? Eh?" So that is where Yang gets it from. Tai is menace who raised a menace.

I glare at him. "I'll tell you if I haven't heard one before."

"Booo! I used that one already!" Yang cries out. Wait, I didn't mean to-

Suddenly the war is on. And by war, I mean a deep abuse on my ponyhood.

A nice distraction for the Shadow War. Maybe puns aren't that ba- Oh no. Blake has a hidden reserve of horse puns.

"So, to be clear, I am not a magical pony princess." Sniggers around the room.

"No, you simply sometimes dream you are one." James states the fact as fact, yet it still feels strangely teasing. Bastard, must be one of those forbidden Atlesian arts.

I'm too tired to retaliate, just like every other attack. The sniggers around the group make it worse.

Deep breaths, this is for a good cause. All for a good cause. "I'm Human. Well, Remnin by the new standard I'm trying to set."

"Yeah, what's that? Was kind of confusing." Jaune again. The others probably had the same question, he's just the only one with courage or confident enough to ask. Or maybe he just asked first once the topic came up.

"It's a cultural attack." I start trying to explain, before stopping. Sleep required, ignore that warning. Also, an example would be better.

I turn to Ruby. "Ruby, is Penny a person?"

"Yes." She almost sounds offended. "Of course she is!"

"What rights do you think she has?"

"Ah." Ozma understands. James looks equally understanding, Blake is next.

"She..." Ruby is slow to realise.

"If my guess is right, under current laws she would be considered a piece of military equipment." There we go, the group understands.

"That's wrong." Defiance, fury at the attack on her friend. Ruby stands for what is right.

"Yes." Good, we are on the same page. Come on, tired brain. Go to work. "The word, the idea of Remnin, it's a cultural attack. A redefinition of the existing term Human. Penny is the first Synth Remnant has, she is unlikely to be the last. But getting her rights, if it's anything like Terra, will be a tough battle. So, we cheat."

Try to make it clear, brain. "Three races, Synthetic, Faunas and Remnin all under the umbrella of Human. If we can change the meaning of the word underneath the laws-" I see Blake's eyes widen as she realises.

"You can promote equality... Laws take time and effort to change." I nod to her at take over again. Clever girl.

"People generally take the path of least resistance. I suspect the laws are worded to promote and protect 'Human' rights. What if 'Human' meant 'person'."

I turn to Ruby. "Do you think Penny is Human, like you?" I ask again.

"I mean, she's a robot, but she's a person." The thoughts of Penny as a slave run though her head. My idea, my weapon, takes hold. Ruby nods with a firm resolution. "She's Human."

I think respect for me in this room just went up a couple of notches. "Thinking ahead, even back then." Glynda sound's a little impressed, which considering how uptight she is, is impressive. Maybe, I'm not in the best frame of mind. Sleep please?

Not yet. One more thing left to do. "Not just Beacon, not just Vale. Remnant Unbroken." Why I'm saying that goes over some heads, but Ozma will explain it later. A unified world against Salem.

Alright, back to war. "I need to ask some questions. Show RWBY was a multimedia franchise, which means books and games and comics as supplemental material. I didn't really consume much of that, a show should stand on it's own, but now I'm wishing I did. So now I need to check some things."

The RPG first. "Qrow, did you have contact with a team of huntsmen, S.A.F.R, about two years ago in Mistral, fighting a crime syndicate who got their hands on magical artefacts?"

"Not unless I got black out drunk afterwards." I roll my eyes and look to Glynda. She shakes.

"Okay, that's one not canon, despite Rooster Teeth saying otherwise." Lying bastards, or AU? I vote lying bastards. RT is like that. Look to James. "Does the term Arrowfell mean anything to you?"

"Not that I can recall." Good, I didn't know much about that anyway. Not much information there, and I don't watch trailers. Avoid them, actually.

Ozma. "Did you send Teams RWBY and/or JNPR into Mountain Glenn looking for labs belonging to a Dr Merlot?"

"No. Not beyond the scouting out unusual Grimm activity mission, which led to the finding of the Red Fang base." Canon only then.

"Damm. He could control the Grimm using science." I'm still facing Ozma, so what else. "Did a building or organisation in Vale called Miss Browning's preparatory school for girls exist?"

"There was a Lady Browning's Preparatory Academy For Girls, if that is what you mean." Different words, same meaning. Close enough, but need to check.

"Interesting. Was?" Taken down, right?

"A reporter named Lisa Lavender exposed it as a criminal operation." That sounds right. Lisa is the only named reporter in RWBY.

Try to remember. Who was... Little miss, they were linked to Lil' Miss Malachite, a spy hub despite agreement's with the Xiong Family... "Spider?"

"Yes." Okay.

"Hei Xiong dead around the same time?" Another yes.

I frown. "That's... Fine. All the events have passed and the information I have from it is fluff at best." Neo isn't her birth name, it's her 'Overactive Imagination' self. Her free self.

I try understand the problem. "The problem is that it is Canon, where other things aren't. Book. It was a book." A book source, and not the only one. I look up at Ozma again. "What is the name of Vacuo's academy, and it's headmaster?"

"Shade, and Professor Theodore." That vaguely rings a bell. Damm.

"Wears a shirt?" He was naked, or 'shows off his body despite being 40'.

"A tight chequered vest that shows off his body." Yeah, that will be described as showing off his abs. Weapon.

"Yoyo or spinning wheel weapon?" No, but...

"Professor Rumpole, his right hand woman, has a spiked wheel as a weapon. It fires golden cords to attack or bind targets." Rumpole, and close enough a description to the weapon I have in mind.

"Rumpelstiltskin. Shit. Literary allusion. Can spin hay into pure gold." One of two defining characteristics.

"Her Semblance allows her to turn anything she touches into pure gold." Ozma confirms. "Fairytale?"

I nod. "And a popular one at that. Generally speaking, the more popular or well known the story, the more narrative weight their counterpart has. She is important."

"Then Theodore is Dorothy." I give a tired, but questioning look. "He followed several key steps of her journey." Okay, okay.

What does this tell me? "Damm. Strong evidence. That's another book too, though a series this time. So books are Canon, but nothing else?"

I turn back to the group and explain the bad news. More bad news anyway. "We may have a delusional pair of twins with a Mind Control Semblance trying to reinstate themselves as new royalty on the loose. More later." Jack and Jill run the Crown.

Any other works I know of? Crossovers. "Anyone know who Batman is? Superman? Wonder Woman?" Shakes. "Good, we do not need DC contamination, their continuity is rife with enemies that make Salem look nice." Confused looks. "Crossover event."

Another one. "How about BlazBlue?" Nope. "Good. Another crossover."

I turn to Qrow. "How do you feel about the SDC?"

"Bunch of self entitled suck-ups that only care about sucking the profit out of the little people." Okay, so the World of Remnant series is probably true. I could have put that together myself if I wasn't so... yawny. No, that is not a reason to yawn, don't do that.

"Good. And good." The last one has a smirk. "So, not much new information. Roman Holiday is a book about how Roman and Neo got together and kicked Spider out of Vale. The loss of Dr Merlot, though he was pretty insane, is still a loss. Grimm control technology would have been nice. As for the Crown..."

I sigh and repeat what I know. CFVY after the fall go to Shade, find a group called the Crown lead by Jax and Gillain, Jax with a mind control Semblance and Gill with an Aura stealing and giving one. Both consumed by delusions of belonging to the royal bloodline, Malik the Sunderer, (Ozma confirms that is his name.) and have raised a controlled (Crownsmen) army to take Vacuo over. Aura's look the same while under, they are currently hunting people with powerful Semblances to add using mercenaries in towns and an underground fight club to scout people out. The core members are not Crownsmen.

Oh, and having your Aura unlocked draws extra attention from the Grimm, though that seems to be known by the adults here.

Not much, but enough for someone to lure the group out and get them. Semblance is either touch based or very close range, I do remember that.

"Sorry I can't be more help. Supplemental book about RWBY, a show who's primary focus is cool fight scenes... To begin with anyway." I scoff. Some help I am.

I'm useless now. That's everything I know about the future and the present. Also very tired, especially now that it's over.

"So, what do we do?" Jaune wants to fight. There's that man I know, even after Jinn he kept going. Their teams rally with support, body language changing. Or maybe I'm seeing things. I'm so very tired.

"Unity and damage control are our immediate concern." Ozma states. "This attack has struck everyone, not just Vale. People will be questioning if their Academies are safe. If their homes are safe."

I put my tired mind to work again and try to come up with a couple of ideas. "Schnee Heiress and Daughter of the Belladonnas standing together decrying the Red Fang would ma-" Another yawn?

I blink, it takes too long for just a blink. Stay awake. "Pull people together and against them, and we need to make a statement anyway. Probably push Remnin Human across too, explain that. Going that hard publicly is a big commitment though."

My words are breaking up, becoming misunderstandable. Is that even a word?

"You're going to have to make a statement anyway." Qrow smirks. "There are clips of you online running around naked fighting Dragons and yelling at people to stop fighting."

Oh shit. I groan. CCTS was down, but scrolls weren't. And now the CCTS is back up. Fame and infamy. I moan at Pyrrha. "Pyrrha. How do I get rid of fame?"

"I'm sorry." She's smiling when she says that, so not sorry at all? I turn to Weiss.

"If I am going up on stage, you will be joining me." Betrayed again.

"Well, at least we can bullshit your father into you... something something the Schnee name and reputation." Tired. It's over and I'm tired. "If you want to hit him."

"He will need to be watched." Winter and the General agree, though Winter speaks. "He is a threat to Atlas', to Remnant's, security."

"I have a few Dustless techs in my head." I tap my skull, Amber's skull, sluggishly. "Smokeless gunpowder propellent. A bit of rocketry. Computers. Um... Water cleaning... Stuff." Water is important, Menagerie doesn't have much clean water, right?

"Dustless propellent?" James is suddenly interested. More interested, he wasn't napping or anything during this meeting. I think guncotton got him. Nitrate something. Hypo-glyciering? I can't remember.

"Yep. Alien, remember. Maybe make a company and hit the market. Uplift Menagerie to draw more away fro-" I yawn. "from Jacques. Dust is bloody, so lets go Dustless."

More tech arrives on the thought train. Choo Choo! "Oh, solar panels for communications satellites. Global imaging and " My eyes are drooping. All the steam I had is going away. Train running out of steam."and weather mapping. Grimm too, now I think about it."

That analogy is falling apart at the seams.

"Perhaps we should take a rest before continuing." Ozma dismisses me. I'm useless now. I told them everything. No, not yet, still know tech.

"Sorry." I mutter. What if I don't wake up? In case I don't wake up in Remnant... "Um, sulfuric acid, nitric acid, cotton equals sulfuric acid, water and guncotton. Wash and treat gently, ignites and burns fast, kinda un-" The Yawn Attacks! Episode something big number. "Unstable. needs a new name, keep it secret. Guncotton is half the ingredients in the name."

I stand up and sway, someone holds me steady. "G'night everyone. Hope I wake up tomorrow still here."

Someone leads me away as I start falling asleep on my feet.

Partial Maiden Cinder Fall

Inside. Inside of me. The stench of rot and the horror of mushrooms growing out of me, into me. Inside of me. Under my skin, up into my veins, spreading an- Burn it away! I am screaming as I wake.

Panicked breathing, panting, I throw the sheets of and- The door opens.

"Cind-"

"OUT!"

She leaves. She... Breathe. It's a nightmare. Check the burns, the holes in my once flawless skin.

No fungal growth. No rot eating at my skin and blood. Fire burned away the rot-growth sprouting out of-

SO WHY CAN I STILL SMELL IT?

Stop. It's just my mind. It's just a hallucination, I'm not rotting.

Minutes pass as I calm myself. Compulsive checks on every cut turned black, on every hole in my once flawless skin. My arm is gone, had to burn the stump, mold and rot creeping up, blooming out of every-

Stop. Kill it. Plan.

I will not be broken by this.

Get up.

Roman's safehouse is abandoned, he has either left Vale or has gone so deep underground as to be undetectable. An asset lost, but that was expected.

Through the door. "Cinder?"

"I am fine, Emerald." I am fine. I will be fine when the monster screams itself to death under my fire. "Status?"

"We have secured tickets on the next airship under false names. With how many are trying to leave Vale, we should go unnoticed even if we didn't use disguises." Good. "Are you sure Mistral is the right choice?"

No. "Are you questioning me, Emerald?" She falters. No, I need her loyal. Soften the voice, just a touch. Gentle. "I appreciate your concern."

Now give her an explanation and a compliment. "It is our best chance to leave, like you said, many are fleeing Vale. If we cannot find what we need in Mistral, it will be far easier to move from there than Vale."

We. Her loyalty is dependant on our 'relationship'. On 'my value' in her. "Where is Mercury?"

"He's still out, he should be back soon." Soon. I slept less than I expected then. The corpse says 'Slick' and the rot sta-

Suppress the shudder, focus on what I can do. Three and a half hours sleep, enough to function for the next 12 hours at most. By then I should be on the flight out of here.

I check my scroll while Emerald prepares my meal to my latest requirements. It must be dead. Not a hint of living or rot or-

The plan. Adam. No reply to my message. Expected but unfortunate. Roman is the same. Friction, Granite, Silk, every contact that I made in the Vale underworld burned away.

Only one message, from a Salt. Which one was he again? Ah, the underground Dust buyer. We only occasionally used him, Roman's funds were more than enough to cover the operation, but tracing the sold Dust to the criminal element's private reserves allowed us to drive the price even higher.

Did Ozpin even realise he was under siege? Too distracted by Roman's flashy Dust heists? No, he would have noticed, yet he did nothing, just as I calculated he would. He could not afford to startle the sheep.

Either path would lead to my victory. Either a scared population drawing more Grimm for the attack, or Dust starved defenders. As unexpected the early Breach was, I turned it my advantage.

How many more Huntsmen and soldiers there were in Vale after that? Dust demand increased to ridiculous levels and with how little Dust there was in circulation... How many of your vaulted defenders were ill equipped to fight back, Headmaster?

Then that thing inhabited the Maiden's corpse rallied the city.

The smell of rot grows again and I force myself to stop, redirect, read the message from Salt.

Ah. That is why no-one will reply. Again, expected, but unfortunate.

Roman made sure to salvage what he could of his reputation, and told the underworld my role in the attack on Vale before his vanishing. Spite and hate, burning every contact I have. I should have made sure to have killed him, even a single asset here could be used to my advantage. He and his bitch were not suppose to survive.

The city was not suppose to survive. The toast tastes like rot, mold in my mouth in my legs in my-

Stop. Eat. I need it to survive. Look at it, it is fine. Near black with heat, tasting closer to ash than food. Clean.

There is someone outside, do not react. Listen. Who is out- Aura feels like Mercury. He has returned. Good.

The door knock password is correct and the thing opens. Yes, it is him. "Hey Em. Miss me?"

"Mercury, you mission?" I do not have time nor effort to play babysitter.

"Done and done." Excellent. He puts the bag on the table, the sound of boxes inside knocking together. "Not sure why you sent me out to do this."

Because you are trained in stealth and subterfuge by your father, Mercury. As effective as Emerald's Semblance is, can only affect a single target.

She has grown too reliant on it for survival over the years, where as you know how to act, behave as if nothing is wrong at all, that you are not a wanted fugitive and stride into a place.

A single male with a relaxed swagger and a pair of glasses is far more stealthy. A simple human weakness to overlook that which is unobtrusive.

The right tool for the right job.

Ideally I would send both, but Ozpin will be looking for them, and their infighting will draw attention.

I say none of this.

"Because I wanted Emerald here with me." Instead I use it to feed her loyalty to me, fan the slight rivalry between them. She straightens up and grins at him, flaunts her 'status'.

Mercury's loyalty is still in question, but he has nowhere to go, no-one who will accept him. Not with Ozpin poised against him. That is why he fought the Xiao-Long girl. Recorded and publicly available. Ozpin knows he is one of mine. He is tied to me now.

And he knows it.

"Well. It's done. A dozen or so places broken into and the virus planted." He nudges the boxes in the bag, scrolls stolen. "Oh, and I picked up your shopping."

Not 'Our shopping'. He might be tied to me, but he does not like it.

For another time.

Plan D, use of the Black Queen virus in the city's critical infrastructure, was considered and dismissed before. Now the situation has changed.

It will be less effective than if the virus was unknown, they may be looking for it now. But the primary reason I dismissed it is because of how much trust I am placing in Watts' work. In that he will not subvert control. Both I am loathed to do.

But I cannot stay here. Contacts burned, face known, hunted. Every medical facility will be watched, every element of the underground watching for me, our faces far more likely to be recognised here. So I cannot be in Vale.

Not physically at least. Scrolls sit on the table, ready to be loaded with the virus and spread around the city in key locations. They might be able to purge computers of the virus, but a time or triggered delayed action will allow me to reinfect and subvert control again.

From the most unlikely of places.

You think you saved this city, Alicorn?

I will make you suffer.

Partial Maiden Yuki Tenno

I know this feeling. A nightmare.

Good. I fight nightmares. What have you got for me this time?

A city on fire. Full of Monsters. Trivial.

They are made of doubt, fear and shadow with blades of hatred. The air is heavy with despair, screams echo across the landscape. There are people suffering in the city.

I can barely move, the paralysing emotions holding me down like the air is tar.

Air. Like a solid. My breathing is clear, always able to breath since I leveled up Invincibility. So breathe deep, and relax. Move.

Failure. Again. Relax, deep relaxation, Phaseshift.

The tar like air loses it's grip, releases me under my will and flows over me. I am incorporeal so long as I remain in this state. Now to fight the monsters.

One comes. Tall, imposing, blended in with the black smoke of the world around it that is suddenly there. A roar of challenge and it charges.

Relax. I am already Phaseshifted, simply allow the strikes to pass though me. Every swing through my form carries with it heart-stopping fear, the same constricting emotions trying to tie me down. Relax. Let them pass.

A black beam of it's weapon, a cane, swings and swings, jabs forward in a hundred strikes, tries to rip me apart. Intent to kill radiates out of the eyes sitting below the bone white plate on top it's head.

No.

It staggers back a moment at my defiance. I have been fighting my terrors for decades, winning for years. Nightmares are fun.

My blade ignites, a rectangle of white fire disconnected from my equine body.

The cane is cut in half and my blade sinks into the monster of a man.

He remains. Swing upwards, bisect him vertically.

An X shaped man-monster sways on his feet. But only for a moment.

He is healing. It does not matter. Another ability. "CEASE"

I do not like using that ability, it makes things too easy.

He is gone.

The other monsters are not.

I flow across the city with blade aglow, white fire burning away the black.

Hoof-step by hoof-step, faster and faster. Faces and people join a rising wall following me as the nightmare is fought against, as the terror dulls. They call to me to join them.

I can't, they are too slow and there are still many fears to fight.

Forward I move, hooves no longer touching the ground as I become the smoke, taking it as my form. It is now coloured white and ripping at those that would hurt the people.

A cloud of white fog sweeping across the city, across the sky.

Monsters burst into nothing where I touch, cuts and corpses are healed and live again under it.

Then there are no more monsters inside the city.

Outside the walls, the ground is a seething shadow, with glints of white and blood red. The defenders line the walls, but it's not enough.

Heavy fear weighs them all down. Some are not standing, breaking under the hopelessness.

A Dragon roars, and suddenly I am back at the base of the tower.

The city is on fire. Full of monsters again, brought by the Dragon's Roar.

Smoke will not help me here. Shift form. Long dress and frills. Two legs and long hair. I know this form. I know it's weapon. I know what weapon to call.

I stand at the base of a tower, and look up. BeaconVale is burning. One Dragon the cause.

Look down. See the people suffering, the Grimm too many. They need help.

Call up my staff, gather my will, point at the target. I know this staff, I know this spell.

I start.

Hovering just past the end of the forked tips on my staff, a tiny spark of pink energy begins to form. A spark, that's all it takes to start.

I start to channel in my intent, my concentration, my power into the spark and fuel it. It blooms, a tiny spark into a small orb of pink energy.

More. Pink power flows from my soul, my need to protect and destroy those that hurt them. Down the staff it flows before seemingly fading, yet as it fade the orb grows larger.

I give more. The Dragon is large, the Grimm many. This will need to be high power. So I pour my will to attack into the spell. My need for them to be unmade.

The first part of the incantation is loud, like it should be. A long drawn out cry that shudders as it tears out my throat.

"SSTTTAAAARRRR!"

Vast the ball of power is, it will grow no larger. It should go no larger. But it can grow denser. More and more of my power, my emotions, flows in.

Geometric shapes bound in circles form between the staff points the orb, others in front of the orb. A ring inscribed with unknowable letters sweeps around the orb and maintains the orb's size and form. No larger will it grow.

The world begins to shake, the orb of sheer power rips at the containment, desperate to get free. I focus harder, clamp down on it, compress it. If it escapes, the cast will be weak. It needs more power.

The second half of the first word resonates with the world, like an opera singer breaking glass with their voice. The world does not shatter, but it is closer now.

"LIIIIIIIIGHT!"

Light around me fades as I draw in the energy. As I pour more and more power into the spell. My dress flickers under the storm of distorted world around me, buckling under the intensity of it.

Stones crack, Grimm burn away under the radiance as they come close to stop me. Time slows as the universe itself takes notice.

The Dragon is hurting people. I WON'T LET YOU! RELEASE!

"BRRREAK~ERRRRRRRRRR!"

Recoil rocks me backwards as I release the bus wide beam-cry of defiance, but I remain fixed, aimed at the target. Pink destruction screams forward, it's edges forking out like lightning and striking every nearby target along the way. Then it's core beam hammers into the Dragon.

The Dragon screams, a massive hole bored though it and pink lightning fire forking out from inside of it. It will die from this.

But that is not enough. I need to destroy them all. Pump the handle, spend a casing. The beam widens. Not enough. Shift the beam to my right side and open. I open my heart's floodgates.

Emotion becomes power, and the beam is no longer a beam with forked lightning. Relief washes through me as I fully open myself to the beam, infinite power flooding out of my soul into the spell. Wider! Wider! A cone wide enough to cover the city!

Half the city is bathed in raiment pink energy.

Sweep from right to left!

The staff is heavy, stuck, difficult to move as the cone blasts out of it. It is rushing out of it and out of the planet's atmosphere.

But as heavy as it is, I am stronger. I drag it across the city and sky nevertheless. Grimm scream, my form wavers, and lives are saved.

Midway now, I am aiming down the middle, and the torrent of power begins to wane. I channel more into it, renew it's flow. That hollow feeling in my chest grows.

Keep going. Keep dragging my staff across the ground, just one corner left and then I can stop. Stop? NO! Do not even think that word!

Renew, my main reserves are empty, force out the power. Just a little more.

Slowly the beam fades, contracting and dimming until only a thin flicker of laser exists. Then that too goes out.

There are no more Grimm. The day is saved. Pink light washed though all things that hurt and erased them.

I am tired. That deep tiredness that I get when it's time to wake up. When I have almost no more power to spend. Someone comes to talk to me, I can't recognise them.

I'm fading, untethered. It's always like this. A finite well of power, always bleeding away no mater what I do. Keeping me anchored for as long as I have some. Yet, the more I spend, the less time I have.

Only ever a visit. Never to stay.

"I'm sorry, but I can't stay." I can't. Not because I don't want to, but because I am unable to. "I wish I could."

My staff is fading away, distorted transparent static across it. The world is no longer a nightmare, just the ending credits of a show. Bittersweet.

I look down, distorted static across my arms too. They are fading. I know my legs are too, I can feel them. "Happy to help. If I come back, I'd like to stay."

How many times have I said those words? I'd like to stay.

Rarely do I dream the same world, and Never do I get to stay.

Just a dream. I'm waking up. Already I can feel the edges of the sheets of my real body as my dreamself fades.

Everything below my chest is a blur now, my arms only visible as faint outlines, the staff is gone entirely.

That finite pool of power starts to come back as my mind wakes up, but I can't spend it. Nor am I able to submerge into the dream again.

"I wish I didn't have to wake up. I'm sorry. I wish I could stay. I wish I could help."

The dreamscape fades from my vision and hearing entirely, only the impression of a presence there. Then that too fades into a slightly different feeling. I am lying down warm in bed. Blankets warm lacking the deep seated emotional warmth of the dream. Sometimes I lay in bed and try to continue, daydream where nightdream fades.

It's never the same.

I flirt though my head full of fading memories of people helped and world saved. Of a word of thanks and a tearful goodbye. She was crying, did she know me? Have I been there before?

No. That was Beacon. I have never dreamed of Beacon before.

Dream. I give a mental snort. A nightmare fought off, like all my nightmares. I look forward to nightmares, ever since my dreamself became strong enough to fight them. They are just another kind of dream now, one that is a struggle to overcome. Where the world itself is my enemy.

I win every time.

I lay in my bed as the details of the dream fades away, only a faint outline left that will be forgotten in less than an hour.

Forgotten. Meaningless. I did nothing by make myself feel better, even as I fought of the nightmare.

I wish I could stay.

No more dreams... it's time to wake up and face the persistent nightmare. The one I can't fight.

I slowly open my eyes.

Bright. Sunlight is coming from the window, even past the red curtains.

Why are my curtains so far away? Why is my room so long?

Why is there a... Cute? No that's not the right word. Refined? That's closer.

WHY IS THERE A REFINED BOY IN MY ROOM? Oh, don't be so dramatic.

He looks up at me. Pink strand in his hair. That's weird, but then again one of my sister's dyes her hair in weird ways. What's weirder is his eyes. Also pink, like his hair. Contacts?

Wait, I recognise him. Now that I look at his clothes, it's obvious who he is.

A cosplayer.

WHY IS THERE A COSPLAYER OF REN IN MY ROOM THAt isn't... actually... my room.

It's... A Beacon Dorm room. A cosplayer and a recreation? Does RWBY have a themed hotel? I know StarWars has one, or is planning one, but that is StarWars, owned by Disney. RWBY isn't that popular, right?

Wait, is RWBY owned by Disney? Owned by Rooster Teeth, which is owned by Disney, I think. So yes. So they could, but that still doesn't... Then again, making a Dorm room 'RWBY' is much easier and cheaper than fully theming something like a StarWars hotel.

The real question is, how did I end up in Disneyland? And which Disneyland?

Oh shit, Disneyland is expensive, especially the hotels. A themed hotel? Even worse.

How did I even pay for all of this?

I realise I'm staring at 'Ren', he has closed his book and is staring back. Why is he here? I can't afford any of anything of this, nevermind a dressed up character watching over me sleeping. Why was he doing that? Why did I pick a RWBY themed hotel? How did I get here?

I don't even drink, alcohol dulls the mind and I need my brain to do all the heavy lifting every second of every moment of every day for... I'm staring. That's interpreted as rude.

"I'm sorry." I apologise and look away.

Oh, my voice is different too. But not uncomfortable? Did I damage it and heal it? Get surgery? I'm so confused. "It's alright." He says.

He even sounds like Ren. Did I pay ultra premium or something? How? "Um, how much is this going to cost me?"

Look at him or don't look at him? Social cues failing, brain all messed up from the situation. "Nothing, your stay at Beacon is free."

Uh, what? Oh, theming. Staying in character. Disney does do that, don't break the 'magic'. I'll have to talk to someone 'outside' the bubble to find out how deep I am in. "Tenno, what is the last thing you remember?"

Tenno? I cough. I'm here under a false name. Oh shit, this is even worse than I thought. Huge debt, waking up in Disneyland probably in another country, and now a false name.

This is sounding more and more like I spontaneously decided to take up drug smuggling and blew all my new wealth on a trip to Disneyland. Why would I do that? I hate Drugs. But how else could I have paid for all of this?

"Tenno?"

Oh, he asked me what the last thing I remember was. Um. Lie. Dream, that works. "Waking up in Beacon and killing a Dragon."

I look up at him and try to read him with my half sleep dazed, half panic maddened mind. He relaxes a bit like that is expected? What the hell? Aren't you going to call my bullshit? Oh, maybe he's still in charac-

Killed the Dragon. They're playing along with it. Filling out a fantasy roleplay of some kind? Would Disney offer that? A 'you are a huntress, have an adventure, save beacon!' kind of deal? Just how much money were those drugs worth?

Oh havok-physics-engine, I am screwed. So deeply screwed. On a scale from 0 to 10, I am in the negatives of how screwed I am, a -5 or -6.

Shame it's not a -8 to -10. I can deal with that, full emergency mode. Can 'Ren' please attack me, please? That would be so much easier than the hole I have dug myself into. I need...

He talks. "You destroyed the Grimm Wyvern and then took back the General's ship, disabling the Knights attacking the city before returning to Beacon and passing out." That's the story then? "Do you remember what happened next?"

"No." That would explain my dream then, if the mind was recycling the content from the paid roleplay. Eww, paid roleplay, that feels like a gross idea. Unless the other people like it genuinely and then also get paid, I wouldn't mind that. That seems less like I'm forcing someone into a role and more like a mu-

"You then spent all of last night and this morning explaining everything to us." What.

"Explaining what?" I'm not an expert in any field. Well, I am a little bit clever, so maybe I had a good idea?

"Rooster Teeth." Rooster Teeth? The company that owns RWBY? Why would I need to explain the company to a group of cosplayers?

Waaaiit.

Did I get hired as a manager of the themed park? That... Feels a lot better than a suddenly aspiring druglord. If I rewatched the show and read all the designated canon... I relax into my bed. Hired by Disney to help manage and keep the lore accurate. Not that RWBY's lore is very good, but I can do fiction for days.

Still weird, but at least I didn't go on a drug smuggling run or go full Walter White. I don't even know chemistry that well. Then again, I am smart enough to learn if I really needed to. Why I would pick drugs though? That is alarmingly unlike me.

Memory loss. The idea hits me full force.

Memory loss is my best guess. Getting hired by Disney, as unlikely as something like that is, or getting rich quickly and paying for it... Memory loss over a few weeks, or longer, seems like the most likely outcome.

Something happened to change my life a lot.

Tenno. Why did he call me that? Unless I am managing some Warframe ride as well? Or I got marr- 'Ren' is vaguely Asian. Tenno is a real word, a real name.

He is kind of cute. Refined. And he was waiting for me to wake up. "Um." How do I break the news to my husband though? That I don't remember... Anything. "I don't remember anything. Can." Ask him. "Can you get a manager please?"

"A manager?" Oh no. I'm sorry 'Ren'. Damm, his cosplay is good though, like, really really good. "Where do you think you are?"

"Themepark or themed hotel. Can you please break character. Um, safeword. I seem to have forgotten how I got here." Sorry, I lied about the last thing I remembered. Help? Please?

He stands up and I scan his face for emotion, but I'm still to mentally busy to get a read. "I'll get Qrow."

Ha. Qrow. He's pretty cool. I don't need another actor though, but Qrow is older. This actor, oh there he goes, was pretty young. 18 to 20, if I guess right. Which is the character's age, so that works, but not really management age.

One of the adults, not that 18 isn't adult, but one of the older character's can be older. Uhg, my thoughts are in knots.

Try to straighten them out and think that thought again. Managers require experience, which requires time. So, an older actor with experience and a manager role can play an older character, integrating them into the 'magic bubble' while still being able to manage the role.

Where does that leave me? All the data is starting to feel wrong. Wait, why would I marry someone who looks 18 to 20? That's a bit young, not too young but enough to irritate my personal limit. If I have lost years of my memories then that's even lo- is he my son?

Or, he might just be some random. Then why was he sitting at my bed, reading a book while waiting for me to wake up?

The door opens. "Hey Tenno. How are you feeling."

Damm, he is good. And wow, damm sexy. Fit, lean, got that stubble just right. His voice is spot on too. Wait, am I complimenting his cosplay or him? He chuckles. "Like what you see?"

Oops. Been caught checking him out. How embarrassing. "Um." He chuckles again. "Sorry. You just pull that off really well."

"Oh? What part?" Is he teasing me? Flirting? I don't flirt, I'm useless. So he must be teasing, mocking me a little. I can play joker.

"Well, for one you're in excellent shape." Duh. "I suppose you need to be, but damm did you go all out."

He clicks his tongue and sits down. "Oh, anything else?"

"Cosplay is on point," He half chokes a moment on that for some reason. "and your replica weapon even looks functional. You even got the half drunk swagger down right."

"And here I was hoping you were going to compliment me for my good looks." He mutters with dejection. False dejection, I think. Then again, I was effectively talking about his work clothes.

"Like I said, you must have gone all out at the gym." Don't look down at his arm.. oh wow that is toned, very nic- Nope, need a distraction. "So. I have memory loss, and I don't know how long I lost." Shit, bad distraction. Go with it, might as well now. "Who did I marry?"

He starts laughing hard at that, slapping his knee a couple of times. Not... the reaction I would expect. Why the hell is he laughing? Isn't that like... Rude? I don't know, I don't know anything right now. It takes him too many seconds, (is he mocking me?) before he stops.

"What makes you think you married someone?" He's smiling.

"Um. Tenno. 'Ren' and you called me Tenno." A half suppressed laugh there. "Oh no. Did I change my name and go full 'reinvent myself'?"

How cringe. Just what happened the past unknown time. "Something like that." A frown, a pause, then he asks a question. "Ren said the last thing you remember was the attack on Beacon."

I roll my eyes. "I lied. Sort of. I was dreaming."

"That wasn't a dream, Tenno." I raise a single eyebrow at him. Really? "Why don't you tell me about this dream."

"Well, half of it is forgotten now. I remember waking up in a burning Vale, I galloped" he snorts and I ignore him. "across Vale, purging Grimm with my Bladecasting. Then something something, I am at the base of the tower with Dragon overhead and I need to kill it. So I call up my staff and hit it with one of my high level dream spells."

"Fire and lightning?"

"Um, no. Starlight Breaker." He doesn't know what that is. "Pink beam of destruction, very powerful. I dialed up to high power, not max, as I could and swept it across Vale and Beacon, though they were kind of melded together by dream-logic into one giant city school thing. Anyway, waving the cone over it eradicated all the Grimm."

Then I tried to stay again. Tried to jump the gap between reality and dream. But I couldn't. "Then... I woke up."

"So, you were dreaming." God, how embarrassing. I don't normally talk about my dreams, but this is not exactly the most normal situation. That, and I have more pressing things to talk about.

He sighs. "Nothing for it then. Look down." Um, okay? I look down at my legs in the themed bed. At my arm- I got tanned? No.

This isn't my body.

The shock hits me. Hot waves of pins and needles flare and sweep across my body. NO! Not my body. What the hell did I? Surgery? What did I do to myself? No, that doesn't make any sense. I've always had body image problems, but I decided to not correct them, the medical risks too great. Unless med-tech has gone up a lot...

How long have I been under? "What year is this?"

"80 PV." I don't need fantasy time! "Seriously."

Breathe. Calm down. Ask. "Unless I got..." He said seriously. He sounds serious. "How old am I?"

"'Bout 25, I'd say." This isn't helping. "Well, that body is. Not sure about you."

Kuva and Continuity, goddamm. No wonder this is an entirely new body, it's an entirely new body! Did I manage to actually pull myself together, get some resources and cure death? Well, at least that solves my discomfort with my body then. Some of it, it still feels strange.

'Qrow' sighs, no wonder he looks cosplay accurate, he will be riding around in a Shell too. "Two days ago you woke up in Amber's body in the Vault, fought off Cinder, killed a big ass Grimm and then told the Red Fang to surrender. Reattached Yang's arm too, before passing out. Yesterday you sat us all down, told us about told us everything about... well, I shouldn't say it. Room's not secure."

He sighs again at my blank stare. Panic is replaced by confusion as I try to understand the simple idea he is putting forward. "Any of that ringing a bell?" I nod, vaguely. "You're in RWBY, Tenno."

In. RWBY. In. In the show. In. Simulation? Dream? Comatose mind?

No. I remember.

I jumped the gap. Just like I always wanted to. I jumped across universes and into...

Oh.

Oh. I'm in RWBY. I came here trough a dre- Amber is dead. I am wearing her body. She gave it to me. 'Thank you.' No, thank you, Amber.

The memories rush back, disjointed and shattered before falling to place, into a full image, as they sort themselves out. "Oh."

Qrow. The real Qrow, snorts and leans back as I reel. "Yeah."

Click click click. That bit there, those words there, I sit with Ozma and watch the sunrise, I stand like a total idiot in a circle and 'I Refuse!' with them in a genuine heartfelt moment that seems cringe worthy now. I fought the Grimm Wyvern I keep calling a Dragon with science and magic, Shouting at it like I was some kind of chuunibyou with a secret power.

I can feel my skin flushing in embarrassment.

It only gets worse as I remember what my thoughts were seconds and minutes ago. Thought I might have somehow gone druglord or got a job at Disney. RWBY, Rooster Teeth, it's not even owned by Disney, it's owned by Warner Bros.

Laughter starts bleeding out as I realise how my words, thoughts and conversation might have seen. More and more I crack up, curling over as the strange catharsis and stupid embarrassment hits me.

"I thought!" HAHAHA. "I THOUGHT I GOT MARRIED TO REN!" Tears start running out of my eyes.

Qrow joins me laughing at my stupid brain logic.

Breakfast... No, had that, what time is it? Almost 4 o'clock. Oh, it's that Arc Number again. Or confirmation bias, I have been noticing a lot more 4s ever since I woke up here, because I know it's an Arc Number.

Is it my growing insanity, or the universe itself aimed at me?

Well, Ren isn't talking while we eat, (Why is he here? I'll apologise soon.) so I might as well solve that stream of thought. And that other, related, one.

I'm either in a work of fiction, or a universe that bears a remarkable resemblance to a work of fiction. Either way, there will be patterns, ones that are either from the Author/s, or from the resemblance of the fictional work the echoes 'author' intent ad biases. Things like Tropes.

Well, that was fast. Solved. Jumped all the logic and arrived right at the conclusion. I haven't thought like that in... Years. Since before I... Cut myself off from my home.

Home.

That's a depressing thought.

Put it aside. Continue my analysis.

So 'tropes' or things that resemble them exist, and I am knowledgable enough to use them. Sort of. The human mind likes finding patterns in data, it's basically THE fundamental function of how the brain works, so I must be wary. Finding the balance between 'Genre Savvy' and 'Wrong Genre Savvy' is going to be a problem.

A problem, because as powerful as being 'Genre Savvy' is, I am not a character. The world isn't some work of fiction, even if it does resemble one. Every choice I make will throw more butterflies into the timeline, mess up tropes and patterns from the original path. And I have started with more than a few butterflies, I have made a splash. (Two, actually. Saved the day and told the group everything.)

On top of that, if I were a character, I know that any good author would try to screw with me. Conflict is the heart of a good story. Well, most good stories. Sometimes it nice to just relax and read a book about 'Miss Amazing and her fabulous life where nothing goes wrong'. It's why I liked reading Mary Sue fics.

So, either the world will screw me over, or the author will screw me over. Like right now, my plate is empty. Oh dear sweet Author, send me a sign and give me another helping?

Plate is still empty. Hmm. Maybe if I flatter you more?

.

.

Yeah, we both know I'm not going to flatter you. That's literally the only card I have to play, and if you were writing this then it would be self flattery.

Which would make me not a pers- Wait... What if it's not a first person narrative? What if it's third person. 'And then Yuki realised she was being an idiot trying to flatter the author. Suddenly, pancakes appeared on her plate, snuck there by Ren.'

Nope, no pancakes. Can I wish for Salem to fall down the stair and break her neck?

Wait, that might actually happen, it just wouldn't solve anything. Though, the idea of Tyrian seeing 'his GODDESS' slipping up and breaking her neck is funny. It won't kill her, but a GODDESS is suppose to be better than that.

I'm distracting myself again.

Ren.

Back on task. Apologise, properly this time.

"I." I hesitate, trying to find the right words. There are no right words, just say it. "I'm sorry. For trying to have you attack a friend. I'm new to this, and didn't think things through. I don't understand how important things like that are here, even if I feel I should."

I have had my emotions cut out too, but not by Semblance. "When I do something like that again, because I am going to make mistakes, please tell me. Hit me or grab me or just get my attention and then tell me no. Tell me why it is wrong. I don't want to hurt you, or anyone, but I can't learn otherwise. Books and video's only go so far, only a few hours of my life. A glimpse."

Even with the coded speech, the details stripped out due to an insecure room, I hope the message gets across. I don't know Remnant. I've seen some fights and a few arguments, but the day to day lives, the actual living... basically none of that.

I'm in a brand new culture, even if it seems like what I came from in some places. Even if they speak the same language, context and connotations will be different.

He has put down his tea and given me his full attention as I talk, and now the silence is starting to get to me. I'm sorry. I really am.

I hurt more than just you, I hurt Yang. "I am going to apologise to Yang as well. As well as everyone else again, if you think it's needed. Last night's apology was... Sleep affected and sloppy. I don't even remember it, to be honest."

He nods. "Accepted. I will let you know if you cross the line again."

And that is that.

So long as I don't do it again. I won't do it again, not intentionally. Hit me if I screw up. "Thank you."

A few minutes pass in silence. No, a few seconds that feel like minutes.

"I am here for advice, another perspective." You what?

"Are you sure?" The question is out before I even recognise that I'm talking.

"There is no different perspective than yours." I suppose. But you trust me enough for advice? He ignores my internal conflict. "Nora and I." That's what he wants advice with.

Oh. Um. "I'm not the best source of relationship advice. I." Be honest, I know too much about him, he deserves to know about me. "I've never been in a relationship. A few crushes on my end got suppressed like all emotions. The only time someone attempted to ask me out on a date, I had a meltdown at the mere idea that I might be somehow desirable, that someone would choose to spend time with me, especially in a romantic context."

Take a breath. "That said, if you still want to ask?"

He nods. "Thank you for your honesty." Okay. "And yes."

Okay. "Okay. A moment?" Another nod and I think through how to phrase what I want to say. Because I do know what I want to say, I have an opinion.

A moment passes and I am ready to give it a shot. "I suppose the problem. Um, issue, Point of concen- Uhg. Sorry, I see things as problems to be solved."

Screw-up. Start again. "The problem could be seen as two problems. One, fear of loss, of losing your existing relationship. And two, the line between you two. OT Nora tried to break away, before the fall, and... Well."

I shake. So much for preparation. "There isn't actually two problems though, or more accurately there is one solution for both. Relationships, of all kinds, are built on communication. The only real advice I can give is that you sit down with her, be completely honest, not just with eachother but yourselves, and then try to 'solve the problem' together. Ask yourselves what you want, why you want them. Tell eachother why you are afraid or driven."

Still flubbing this. "Fear of losing your friendship, well I don't think that's a problem. Not between you two. Yeeesss, if you start dating and things go bad, there will be some awkwardness, but a total break seems near impossible. You have been together for a long time, how many other problems have you overcome? How many past communications issue or mutual agreements have you made? If you care about eachother, and communicate that, then whatever happens you can overcome."

Try again. "I'm sorry, I'm flopping hard on this. I'm going to try again."

Use my own understand, my philosophy. "Labels. In your head there is a label on your relationship that says 'Friendship'. The thing about labels, is that they are shortcuts. All of them, for everything. The human mind cannot process all the information about reality, so it uses shortcuts, a lot of them."

"Stereotypes, names," I hold up my fork. "objects, they are all shortcuts in the mind. This is not a fork, it's a region of metal in a particular shape, but the brain doesn't see it like that. It looks for similarities and labels the group, copy-pasting the idea over and sharing them. You have a fork, yes, but it's not the same as this one."

I put the fork down. "Your relationship, your 'friendship' is the same, but the real conflict, I think, isn't that you will break up, but that you are copying your understanding of 'dating' and trying to apply it to your existing relationship. Like you are trying to switch it out. However, your mental definition of 'dating' contains the idea that things might end, and end messy."

"The idea that dating can end messy is trying to be applied to your relationship, something that you don't want, so you reject it, and everything else it is linked to. My advice for your relationship is to drop the labels entirely. Just be whatever it is. Explore, trust, care, and communicate. If one of you doesn't like something, tell eachother. Set limits and work through things."

I sigh, still not good enough. Pull on fiction. "Fiction says relationships, especially dating, are on-off things. Yes or no. Binary. The human mind oversimplifying so it can deal with excessive data. It doesn't look at what it really is: the complex web of memories and emotions, partial thoughts that only get completed only when the other person is there, and others that only come when you are not with them. Fiction says 'one event, or these few events, can make or break something'."

I look at him, really look at Ren. "Trust in your momentum, if you will. Your history with eachother, and trust in eachother. That you or her will tell eachother if something is going wrong. Then sit down and talk about it. Come to an understanding."

"If that understand is 'let's go to be movies, and maybe we'll kiss' or 'I want to explore what I would do if you weren't there for a while.' then that is all you can do. Trying to force things will only create strife. Putting labels on it will only create strife. So don't."

I lean forward and try to sum everything up in a single sentence, something that the stupid human brain can latch onto and use. If I were some public speaker or something, this is what would be taken out of context. It would be the 'name' the 'label' that ends up hiding the true nature of the idea I am trying to convey.

"Trust in love, don't try to constrain it, instead explore it. You do not learn without making mistakes, but so long as you do learn, then they are not mistakes."

Two sentences. I lean back. "Sorry. Does that make sense? I'm normally much better at this."

"I think so." He is frowning. Then he stops. "Trust that we will find our way, no matter what it is."

I suppose that is what you can take away from it.

I call up a glass and some water with magic, taking a drink, trying to distract myself from my useless blubbering. "So, you thought we were married?"

At least I don't spit-take. I do groan. "Tenno isn't my name, not my Terran name. You were waiting for me by my bedside." He smirks. "Don't. Please. I was very confused." I frown. "Why were you waiting, anyway?"

Not just advice, surely. "We have been taking turns keeping watch over you." Oh. "In case something like that happened."

That's... Considerate. I don't think I would have taken that into account were our positions reversed. "Thank you."

He frowns. "Not your Terran name, and before you left the office you said you 'hoped you would wake up still here'."

Old pain, new pain. My face drops. "Terra wasn't nice to me. It's not even called Terra, I'm just distancing myself from it. It's why Rooster Teeth" Code for the show. "was so important to me. As terrible as it was managed and made, the idea of a world where being different is celebrated is..." Deep breath in. I'm not going to cry, not this time. I look up. "I really am sorry about Dull."

He nods and takes a sip of his tea.

I knock and a few seconds later the door opens. Blake stands in front of me, Yang inside. She's... Not good, at least by the red ring around her arm's standards. "May I sit?"

Her boundaries, her room. Blake and Yang look at eachother, silent communication. She nods and Blake leaves, leaving us alone. I walk in, close the door and pull up a chair from the desk. Yang speaks first. "Thanks."

I frown. This is not how I thought things would go. "I'm here to apologise, actually. And to offer to let you beat the shit out of me."

She snorts at that before picking out why I need to apologise. "For telling Ren to... You were right, I was out of control. I just... Thought..." Ah.

"A valid target to take your rage out on." She nods. "He is that, but I shouldn't have..."

"You're a horse." Alien. She understands, has come to this before. I think Ren had too. I did apologise to the group before, but I don't feel it was good enough. Maybe because I don't remember it.

"I'm trying to learn. If I do something like that again, beat the shit out of me." She is holding her arm tightly now. "You have one free beating available from this, whenever you want to redeem the coupon." I try to joke and finish my turn.

She starts again. "Thank you." The conversation changes. "For Ruby. Cinder will be after you now, but not her." I have sacrificed myself to protect Ruby. I suppose that earns some points.

"Of course." That comes out softer than I was expected, more conviction in it than deserving for a show and a character. Truer, more real. "Even if she isn't my friend, if any of you aren't, I am yours."

"Are you?" I don't understand that emotion, the question behind it. I can only clarify, I suppose.

"I would like to be, as much as it hurts to try open up. At the moment this is just words, yet even at them, shivers of anxiety are prickling up my back." I'm trying to ignore it. "Fear of opening up, all that stuff."

She seems to understand, despite my failings in talking. Has she been closed off too? Of course she has, she has used her 'party animal' persona (while real) as cover. Distraction. Does everyone have issues about opening up to people, just to different degrees?

Change topic. "It gets better." I start again, referencing her arm.

"Does it?" Even with an arm attached, there is fear and pain there. Adam's blade cut deeper than flesh.

"No." I immediately correct. Use something she can understand. Something physical. "Not like how you are thinking. Trauma isn't a cut, it doesn't heal over and look fine. It scars. People do not 'get over' their traumas, they find ways of coping. It gets better, but it never goes away."

A hard truth. 'And then they were back to where they were' is a fictional concept. If they seem fine, like there is no difference, then they are lying.

"I have a saying." I take a breath and prepare to reveal one of my Truths. "Trauma defines. But how it defines, that is up to you."

I pause and let that sink in for a moment. Now to hammer it home. "Run? Pretend nothing has changed and be poisoned by it? Let it break you? Fight? Put down the life of a Huntress and take up baking? Be consumed by revenge?"

Simple words cross the gap, and I see how it settles in her. "All choices, all paths. You must take one, through action or inaction. My only advice that You Make The Choice. Don't let it make you. Know and accept you are not the same Yang from before, but that doesn't make you lesser, simply different."

"You can be really cheesy, you know?" Embarrassment flickers in me, my anxiety flares again, but I know that tactic.

"Deflecting, are we? Waiting and feeling out what you want to choose is valid too, if you're not ready." I grin. "And maybe the world could use a bit more cheese."

I hold out my hand, one opposing her severed arm. Offer to take it, to get back up. "I'm broken too Yang. This place, it's like a dream, but that will soon fade. Even if it were a dream, I carry my trauma with me. I have been broken for too long. Let the trauma make me. No more."

A little bit of her comes back. Hope. Defiance. Broken people holding eachother up. She takes my hand with her UnBroken one. "Want me to stand up and cry defiance again?" What is that? "Tenno?"

"I can... Feel something?" A distant pull, a tugging sensation. I turn my head on my side and try to understand. "An open door? No, not open, but a door."

I let go, and the feeling fades quickly. "Nevermind, something to think about later."

I shake my head and stand, ignoring it for now. "Well, not a cry of defiance, but I had another thing in mind. You see, I'm a civilian thrown into a very dangerous situation, so why don't we find a place where you can give me a lesson." I smirk. "Say, a lesson on the value of hand to hand without a weapon. I don't want to end up like Ruby without her baby, after all."

Laughter. Still tainted by doubt and pain, but hints of real laughter in there too. "Masochist."

"No, just aware of the vast skill difference. Then again, I'm not sure how skilled Amber was. Want to find out?"

Yang looks down at her raised hands, forming them into fists and forces a grin. A choice, maybe not made right this moment, but she is a little closer now.

As for me? This will hurt. But that is okay.

I can take a beating for Yang's self esteem.