---

You did gymnastics back in the day, back in Haven. Even before your Semblance had fully developed, heights never scared you. Some strange part of you actually felt at peace in the air.

You used to race other students. Rope climbing was where you shined. You still remembered the cheers, the applause, your teammates calling your name. Percy’s smile lingered most of all. Shame you never talked to him much. You were shy back then, and he got transferred to Vale after some family emergency or something akin to that.

Still, reaching the top before anyone else had felt incredible. Some said your Semblance gave you an unfair edge, but they were wrong. You didn’t use it back then. You’d wanted to prove you could do it on your own. Honesty mattered to you. It still did.

Now, you didn’t have that luxury. You were forced to use flashes of your Semblance, your Aura sputtering in and out like a dying flame. You were pushing yourself to the brink. One hand clung to the rope, fingers fractured, throbbing with every pull, while the other kept Cerise’s limp body from dropping below.

It wasn’t impossible, but it was… painful. Painful and brutal. You’d learned to time it, using the lightened moments to climb, pausing when the weight returned. Efficient. Controlled. But the pain… every tug, every small jump felt like hot searing needles that traveled through your fingers towards your entire body. Contrary to what civilians liked to believe, Huntsmen weren’t immune to pain. We just endured it better.

Without Aura, though? You felt everything a normal human felt.

Maybe this was the first time you’d truly felt how broken bones, well… felt.

Finally, you reached the open doors of the floor above. You steadied yourself, timed your jump with a lightened pulse of your Semblance, and vaulted through. Cerise’s weight pressed against your shoulder as you landed. Good. Things were looking up.

A long hallway stretched ahead, same sterile walls, same dull light-blue panels. The color was starting to make your head throb.
You pressed on. No time to waste. Cerise’s wounds came first. Maybe this Nell she was looking for could help. Surely one of these scientists knew something about medicine, right?

You sprinted down the corridor, but barely a minute passed before you stopped cold.

It wasn’t a sound, but a smell.

Rot. Thick, wet, and putrid. The smell of decaying meat.

Flashbacks came. That fight with the man who twisted flesh and bone through his black liquid. Your skin prickled. Nausea climbed up your throat. Your eyes got watery. You still had regular nightmares about that day.

You turned a corner. A dozen guards sprawled across the floor, lifeless. Blood and bullet marks painted the walls, ceiling, everything. At the far end, an automated turret swept the corridor in slow, mechanical arcs.

The instant it caught sight of you, the barrel spun up. You ducked back around the corner, then came the stuttering bursts of fire.

But nothing hit.

You risked a glance. Smoke hissed from the turret’s barrel, jerking with every dry shot. Out of ammo, maybe. Either way, it wasn’t dangerous anymore. Good enough.

With your Aura still drained, caution mattered more than speed. You moved forward carefully, past the twitching machine. Fourteen guards, maybe more. All shot. All long dead. The rot thickened the air until it burned your throat. For how long does someone need to be in this state for the smell to get this bad?

You covered your nose with your only free hand and kept walking, Cerise’s body on your shoulder.

“She lived there with my mom. And now she’s dead.”

The voice came from behind you. A young boy’s voice.

You turned. Rocky cliffs loomed on both sides, the evening sky fading to violet and orange above. The city ahead clung to the stone walls, houses built into the rock, some hanging with crooked stairways connecting them.

A child stood in front of you, crying. His glare burned with anger. Why? You’d just saved his village.

You stepped toward him to calm him down, but his crying only grew harsher. He clenched his fists, trembling, eyes full of hate. The raw emotion made you reel back.

“Why did you have to do that? My sister’s dead. It’s all because of you!”

You followed his gaze. One of the hanging houses was gone, its shattered remains buried at the base of the cliff. Beneath the rubble was a Death Stalker, one of the larger scorpion variants of Grimm. This one was massive. You’d brought the rocks down on it, killed it with a landslide to save the town.

The village was safe. But the house had fallen with it.

“You killed my sister!”

You felt the feathers at the side of your head tremble. You turned again and saw the villagers gathered, staring at you. Fear in their eyes. Lave, your teammate, knelt beside the crying boy, holding him, whispering to him through her own tears. She always had a soft heart.

“She did her best. That beast would’ve killed us all.” a man muttered in the crowd.

“Yeah, but now the kid lost his sister. Where’s his mom? Don’t tell me she was up there too.”

“Don’t they teach Huntsmen to protect civilians first? That was reckless.”

“It was necessary.”

The words left your mouth before you realized it. The crowd fell silent.

“Lave. Let’s go. You’re on patrol tonight. We need to make sure no more Grimm attacks come.”

Lave’s tear-streaked face lifted to you, her purple eyes wide and red with emotion.

“Shelly?! What’s wrong with you?! We need to help this kid’s sister! Go, look for her!” Her voice cracked. The boy clung to her tighter, his face buried in her chest.

Didn’t she understand? The village was still in danger. Such a lousy team. Still, you weren’t a monster. You’d help her out since it appeared she wasn’t able to do so on her own.

“…Fine. I’ll take patrol tonight. You stay and help the kid. If you need me, call. I can use my Semblance to lighten up the rocks so that even you can lift them.”

The moment those words escaped your mouth, disgust followed. That wasn’t you. That wasn’t how it happened.

Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

You snapped back, blinking hard and breathing harder. The pale blue light returned. You were still in the hallway of corpses.

Cerise… Where was Cerise?!

She was there, back by the corner, still unconscious on the floor. You started moving towards her, but the stench hit again. Thick. Rancid. Stronger than before.

It was coming from your hands.

You froze. Rotten blood, pieces of bone and darkened meat clung to your fingers, dripping slowly. You looked down. One of the soldiers lay open before you, his chest torn wide, ribs cracked apart.

You were digging into him. Just now.

Your stomach twisted. The air spun. You were close to vomiting.

> Calm down. Take it slow. Maybe this is just the head injury. Focus on your breathing. Move deliberately. Whatever’s going on in these labs, you’ll find out soon enough.
> Run. Whatever this was, it could happen again. Your instincts felt in danger. Move fast, find a door, find a way out. Caution will only get you killed. Go as fast as possible.
> Fight back. This isn’t natural. A Grimm? A Semblance? Someone’s trying to twist your mind, dig into your past. You felt your rage surface. You won’t let them. Call them out. Make them regret it. Even this wounded you’re still a threat to anybody. You really wanted this.
>Other (Write in)

>>6317727
> Calm down. Take it slow. Maybe this is just the head injury. Focus on your breathing. Move deliberately. Whatever’s going on in these labs, you’ll find out soon enough.

>>6317727
>> Calm down. Take it slow. Maybe this is just the head injury. Focus on your breathing. Move deliberately. Whatever’s going on in these labs, you’ll find out soon enough.

>>6317727
>> Calm down. Take it slow. Maybe this is just the head injury. Focus on your breathing. Move deliberately. Whatever’s going on in these labs, you’ll find out soon enough.

>>6317727

>Autopass due to certain combination of traits!

Hallucinations. That’s what these were. You knew it. At least your mind did.

You weren’t proud of your past, but it hadn’t happened like that. The memories were wrong. Tampered with. Whatever caused them was external. Or maybe it was the head wound. Either way, you had control now. There was no point in panicking.

You went back to Cerise. Her body still lay where you’d left it. Your hands were filthy, slick with blood and worse. You tried wiping them on the wall. It helped a little. The dripping stopped. You crouched down to lift her.

A deafening crash shook the world around you. You hit the ground, dazed.

When you opened your eyes, fire. A train engulfed in flames. Metal screaming. You knew this place. You knew what came next. The explosion on the rails. The fall. The window jump. The scramble for your weapons.

Another hallucination.

This wasn’t real.

You closed and opened your eyes while breathing slowly. Your hands were wrapped around Cerise’s neck. Inches from choking her. You froze. Every time one of these visions took over, your body acted on its own in a… troublesome manner.

You needed an anchor. Something to hold you in reality. Water? There was none. Music? Neither. Pain…

Crude, but it might work. You flexed your broken toes. That would do. You could walk with intention, heel first, then a step that pressed against your broken toe. Enough to jolt you if you lost yourself again. Unpleasant, but effective.

You lifted Cerise once more. It felt easier this time, your Aura was slowly regenerating, your basic Huntress abilities returning.

The hallway waited ahead, the one filled with rot and silence. The broken turret. The corpses.

You just had to keep moving. Forward. Always forward.

“Look, honey! You’re so tall!” The voice was warm, familiar. A man’s voice. You turned to your left. Your father stood there. Broad-shouldered, brown hair neat beneath his cap, his police coat draped around him like a shield. He was pointing at the wall, where uneven pencil marks climbed slowly upward. Your height, year by year.

“I wonder how much you’ll grow next year. You’ll be the tallest girl in Haven once you enroll.” he said with a grin.

Your mother stepped into view, some feathers glinting softly in the light, green and blue brushing her neck and arms. “Tell me, Shelly. Do you want to be the tallest girl?”

“Yes!” A young voice, your voice, burst out before you could stop it. High, bright, full of energy and enthusiasm. “I’ll be the tallest and strongest, so I can save others like you do, Pa!”

“That’s right, dear. Come give us a hug. We have an amazing surprise for you. Do you like dogs or cats better?” You remembered this. The plushies. He was hiding them behind his back. You’d overheard them talking about it earlier, their laughter spilling down the hall.

File: Death.png (415 KB, 758x648)

415 KB PNG

You stepped forward, smiling.

Pain tore through your foot, crawling up your leg. The world warped. You stumbled, catching yourself on one knee. The smell hit you next. Rot, metallic and sour. Cerise’s limp form was still slumped against your shoulder. The bright room was gone. Only the pale, flickering blue light of the hallway remained.

You felt something cold fall down from your eyes. Tears. Of course, who wouldn’t feel sad when shown what they have lost?

At least no one was here to see.

---

The hallucinations grew stranger after that. Surreal. Unreal. Eyes sprouting from the walls, Grimm twirling in grotesque dances with each other, a war waged between humans and faunus under a rain of cakes. Ridiculous, but useful. The absurdity made them easier to break. Easier to recognize for what they were.

Still, Cerise needed help. She was still breathing, but it was shallow. You couldn’t stop now. Someone in this place, someone alive, might still be able to help.

Then another vision came. One from long ago, your early days as a licensed Huntress. You remembered the lake, the ripples on the surface, Grimm silhouettes far away. Your bow was drawn, your eyes aiming at them.

Instinct told you to fire. You wanted to let loose.

You didn’t.

“This isn’t real.” you whispered to yourself again.

The image slowly faded.

It was brief this time. Faint. Manageable. You were learning. Whether your body was building resistance to some airborne hallucinogen or your mind was adapting, you couldn’t tell. But you’d take the progress.

Forward. Always forward.

You turned the corner.

Three doors stood ahead, massive, metal, split open like paper. Each one at least five feet thick, layers of reinforced alloys and wiring torn apart by something unknown. The edges shimmered faintly, carved runes, cracked and dim.

And beyond the last door… a room. Large. Cold. Silent.

You moved closer, a slow, deliberate pace. The air changed. A low hum. Then the sound of wings. Flies, dozens, hundreds, drifted past you, not hostile, just... passing. They circled once, drawn to the iron stink of your hands before continuing into the chamber. Maybe they weren’t real. Maybe they were another hallucination.

Inside, you saw something… peculiar.

People. Standing still. A group of scientists, their white coats shredded and stained. Torn flesh, open wounds, none of them bleeding. Their faces blank, fixed upward towards a metal cage suspended from the ceiling.

The ground below it glittered with shards of shattered glass, the remains of a containment dome. The cage itself hung open, heavy metal bars bent outward.

Then you looked up again.

Someone was there, inside.

A girl, small, frail, her body draped in white restraint cloth. Long hair fell over her shoulders. One eye covered by a bandage, the other glimmering a dim silver. She stared down at you from inside the broken cage, her legs dangling lazily between the bars.

File: Pyrrha.png (74 KB, 181x196)

74 KB PNG

“You don’t look like the others.” she said. Her tone was flat, apathetic, calm.

“The others? You mean the soldiers?” Was it a mistake to talk to her?

She didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze shifted, almost disinterested.

“Sis, she’s so interesting. I’m going to play with her a bit more, okay?” A second voice. Childlike. Mischievous. Echoing from somewhere else. You spun toward the sound, scanning the wreckage. Broken terminals, shattered screens, torn cables hanging like vines. It was hard to know where it came from.

The girl above didn’t react. She just watched you.

Then the swarm of flies descended from her perch, spilling over the scientists like a living shroud. The sound of buzzing filled the room.

The bodies turned. Their mouths hung open in silent screams. Not alive. Not dead. Something in between. They faced you. Not attacking. Just watching. Waiting. Of course.

Fighting them felt… wrong. They still looked human. Still wore faces that once belonged to people. Would it be okay to fight them?

The light changed again all of a sudden, too clean, too bright.

You were back in the arena. Haven’s arena.

It was exactly how you remembered it: long, rectangular marble floor glistening beneath rows of wooden seats, lanterns hovering in lazy arcs above, and the dome, amber wood and glass, filtering sunlight in golden cascades of light. Djinn statues ringed the walls, their blank eyes fixed on the stage.

And across from you stood a girl. Shorter. Red hair tied in a ponytail, armor trimmed in bronze, green eyes gleaming with confidence, holding a musket-spear and a shield.

Pyrrha Nikos.

The prodigy of Mistral. The “Gem of the East Winds.” The face on the cereal boxes.

“Remember, Shelly! Take it easy on her. She’s still learning the ropes!” Professor Shane’s voice echoed from the stands behind you. Lionheart sat beside him, smiling and cheering you both. Around them, half a hundred students murmured in anticipation. This was an important event for the school.

Pyrrha smiled, stepping forward. “No! Don’t take it easy on me. I want to learn from my peers as much as possible.” Her voice was bright, disarming. This kind of sincerity was rare.

She stopped just a few feet away and extended her hand. The gesture was polite. “It’s a pleasure to spar with an almost graduate, miss. I’ll try my best, so please don’t hold back.” You studied her, the posture, the control, the warmth. She had all the things people claimed you had in the past.

Now she was the new favorite. The academy’s darling.

And this fight? It would cement who was going to become Mistral’s new favorite, and you knew everyone was hoping for her to be the victorious one. This fight was just a formality.

You wanted not to feel envy. Not to feel regret. Not to feel used. Not to feel that everything you've fought for and bled out for was fading because someone allegedly prettier, kinder and stronger arrived.

> Have an honest fight with her. Truly test her the best you can. Go easy if she’s not that good, go harder if she can handle herself. You wouldn’t want to cultivate bad blood between you two.
> She took your mantle as the favorite from Haven Academy. It wasn’t done on rightful foundations. Sure, you had a misstep here and there, but who didn’t? If she wanted to become the crowds favorite, she had to earn it. Fight all-out from the start, and fight dirty should the need arise.
> This was all an illusion. It was all fake. As much as you wanted to see what would happen in this ‘what if’ fight, you had to go back to reality. Cerise, Sora, Taylor. You had real people that were waiting on you. (Autopass)
> Other (Write in)

>>6319337
> Have an honest fight with her. Truly test her the best you can. Go easy if she’s not that good, go harder if she can handle herself. You wouldn’t want to cultivate bad blood between you two.

>>6319337
>Have an honest fight with her. Truly test her the best you can. Go easy if she’s not that good, go harder if she can handle herself. You wouldn’t want to cultivate bad blood between you two.

>>6319337
>> Have an honest fight with her. Truly test her the best you can. Go easy if she’s not that good, go harder if she can handle herself. You wouldn’t want to cultivate bad blood between you two.

Going to need a dice roll. Success on a 18 and above, crit on a 24.

Rolled 5, 1, 9 = 15 (3d10)

>>6319889

Rolled 10, 4, 2 = 16 (3d10)

>>6319889

Rolled 10, 6, 9 = 25 (3d10)

>>6319889

>>6317727

You extended your hand, shaking hers with a small smile. “That’s a nice attitude you’ve got. Don’t worry. Give it your all.”

Her smile brightened, warm and sincere. She was genuinely excited for this match. You felt a twinge of nostalgia, even a faint ache in your chest. Melancholy mixed with the tiniest sting of envy, buried deep within you. But you couldn’t hate her. None of this was her fault. It was the system’s fault and… yours, to an extent.

Pyrrha turned and walked to her end of the arena. You mirrored her steps, boots tapping softly against the polished marble. That’s when you heard the whispers from the crowd.

“You think she’s gonna join Haven? That’d be awesome! Maybe we’ll finally outshine Vale!”

“I heard no one in Sanctum’s been able to beat her yet, and she’s not even in a Huntsman school yet. Think she stands a chance against Shelly?”

“I like Shelly, but… if I had to bet…”

Some of the voices were familiar, your own friends. Not all of them, but enough to sting. Your circle in Haven had never been large.

You were famous, sure, but only locally. And the crowd? The crowd wasn’t cheering for you anymore. Most of them just watched, neutral, waiting to see which of you would shine brighter. You even caught the gaze of some people that weren’t part of Haven. Maybe some students from the Sanctum? Pyrrha’s family, perhaps?

“What if she loses control?” Shane’s voice came low and tense from behind you as you turned your back to face your opponent. “Don’t you think we should… step in? Is the security good enough?”

“Oh, Shane. Don’t worry a single bit about it. I trust Shelly will show restraint.” Lionheart’s voice tried to sound hpeful, but there was strain beneath the tone. He didn’t fully trust you, he tried hard to put on a mask.

“Yeah, but… you read the-”

“Quiet, Shane. Things are about to begin.” You glanced back at them. Their worried expressions vanished the instant your eyes met theirs, replaced by awkward smiles and stiff waves.

So, the cheers were fake too. How… depressing.

“Remember, no dirty tricks, no lethal blows,” came the voice of the announcer through a megaphone high above. “This is a demonstration of skill! We want to see how Miss Nikos handles herself against one of our most seasoned students! That means neither of you should hold back!”

The voice cracked with enthusiasm just as the cheers of the people intensified.

“Give it your all! And remember! No matter who loses, we’re all winners here at Haven Academy!” Polite cheers rippled from the benches. More whispers from your teammates and teachers followed, but you tuned them out. Listening would only make you feel worse.

A horn blared overhead.

Pyrrha moved first. Her stance was solid, shield raised, spear leveled, eyes locked on you with a fierce calm that didn’t fit her age.

Fine. Let’s see just how good the prodigy really is. If everyone wanted to cheer for her, then she’d better have something you didn’t.

You connected both sabers, their edges flaring with a pale light-green glow, and launched a flurry of homing bolts toward her. Not fully powered, but fast enough to test her reflexes. Their arcs twisted through the air, wide and unpredictable, never aiming at her blind spots or her back, with most of them going towards her frontal side on purpose.

Pyrrha advanced, her movements sharp and fluid, her shield flashing as it caught and blocked each arrow you loosed. Every strike you sent was met with effortless precision. Good reflexes. Quite good. How much younger was she? Four, maybe five years? Three? Not much, but at that age, to fight like this? Commendable.

You kept your distance, continuing the barrage. Arrows flew in controlled rhythms, the tempo shifting unpredictably to test her reactions. She didn’t falter. Even as you varied the timing and force, she adapted on the fly as if barely trying.

Yeah. The rumors weren’t exaggerations. She was indeed good.

She leapt into the air, her shield deflecting the next volley with a clean metallic sound. Then, she twisted mid-flight, her spear aiming at you and cracking like thunder. A gunshot. Right, it doubled as a rifle.

You stepped aside just in time, the bullet whistling past. It was never going to hit you, but the rhythm of your shots broke. That was enough for her to turn to the offensive.

Now she was dashing forward after landing, closing the gap quite fast. Good. Maybe she’d taken the bait, thought you were just another ranged fighter that only relied on distance.

You clicked the bow’s frame apart, blades unfolding into twin sabers. Her spear met your guard in a burst of sparks.

She kept attacking, relentless in her rhythm. Swipes, thrusts, kicks, shield bashes. The kind of close-quarters pressure that left no room to breathe. You stayed on the defensive, dodging and parrying as you matched her melee prowess with yours. Neither of you were going all-out, but that fact alone unsettled you.

If she was already this good while holding back… how terrifying would she become once she gained real experience?

Then, a slip. Your sabers shifted slightly to the left mid-block, just as her shield came in fast towards your face. A fraction of a second, yet perfectly timed to throw you off balance.
Instinct kicked in. You triggered your Semblance, increasing the weight of her shield in an instant. The momentum threw her off balance as well, and you used that window to cartwheel back, landing smoothly on your feet a few feet away.

Pyrrha stumbled, catching herself. The move had clearly surprised her. But, about that failed block… How strange… It wasn’t like you had been careless. That unbalance had come out of nowhere.

Her eyes flicked to you, confused, maybe even suspicious. You quickly normalized the weight of her shield before she could notice the trick.

Applause burst from the benches above. You weren’t sure if it was for her or for you, but the sound of cheers lightened up the stress from your heart.

“Wow! Did you see that? Pyrrha Nikos, forcing a seasoned student to dodge her attacks! No wonder she’s the top student of Sanctum! A round of applause!” the commentator announced, his voice booming across the arena.

And the applause grew louder. The emotional damage was… unpleasant.

Pyrrha didn’t seem to care for the praise. Instead, she frowned slightly, testing the weight of her shield with a slow motion of her arm, raising and lowering it, lost in thought.

Her guard was down.

You decided not to attack her. It would look bad. Was she figuring out what happened to her shield? And what did happen with your weapons just now? They’d shifted on their own, as if someone, or something, had pushed them aside. Maybe your nerves were getting to you?

Pyrrha caught your lingering stare. Her body language changed in an instant, her stance lowering, her shield raising, her feet sliding into position. Defensive. Alert. She was just as confused as you.

You lunged forward first this time, breaking the silence with a flurry of strikes as you took the initiative. Dual blades gave you freedom when it came to attacking, arcs from both sides, feints layered into real cuts, every move meant to press her guard and leave no space to breathe.

She adapted quickly, deflecting your attacks with her shield and spear, but she couldn’t block them all. A few swipes came dangerously close to touching her. She was being pushed back, step by step. You could’ve pressed the assault harder, but that strange interference from before still sat heavy in your mind.

Then she leapt back, spinning midair, an odd, risky motion for someone so skilled. A trap?

Her shield left her hand mid-spin, flying straight toward you. So that was her plan. You moved to form your bow, but your instincts caught the tell. You blocked the incoming shield with both sabers, deflecting it…

…straight back to her.

Wait. Why would you do that? You meant to push it aside, not return it. Why was the shield flying towards her? You could’ve easily disarmed her here. Why would your body act like that?

She fired in midair, her spear shifting into musket form. Bullets whizzed toward you, forcing you into a hasty guard. Her shots came in rhythm, one after another, as she dashed in to reclaim her shield mid-flight while shooting you.

> Subtly use your Semblance to increase the weight of her armor and shield the instant she tries to catch it. If your timing’s right, she’ll lose balance and stumble, and you were confident you could do that at this distance.
> Rush her directly, attacking before she can fully switch back to melee mode. If you’re fast enough and with some luck, you could land clean hits before she regains her rhythm. Maybe this would end the fight.
> Use your arrows to alter the shield’s course midair, forcing it off path. It shouldn’t have returned to her so perfectly. You really wanted to disarm her. She would be far easier to deal with if she had only her spear.
> Other (Write in)

>>6320451
>Rush her directly, attacking before she can fully switch back to melee mode. If you’re fast enough and with some luck, you could land clean hits before she regains her rhythm. Maybe this would end the fight.

>>6320451
>Rush her directly, attacking before she can fully switch back to melee mode. If you’re fast enough and with some luck, you could land clean hits before she regains her rhythm. Maybe this would end the fight.

>>6320451
>Subtly use your Semblance to increase the weight of her armor and shield the instant she tries to catch it. If your timing’s right, she’ll lose balance and stumble, and you were confident you could do that at this distance

>>6320451
>Rush her directly, attacking before she can fully switch back to melee mode. If you’re fast enough and with some luck, you could land clean hits before she regains her rhythm. Maybe this would end the fight.

Dice roll time! DC 14, Crit 19, not so much as to how difficult it is, more like how good it will make you look

Rolled 9, 2, 6 = 17 (3d10)

>>6322655

Rolled 10, 6, 2 = 18 (3d10)

>>6322655

Rolled 3, 8, 8 = 19 (3d10)

>>6322655

>>6320451

> Focus increased from 4 to 4.5! Mostly the same, but now switching between increasing/decreasing weight is far easier and more manageable than before.

You lightened the weight of your body with your Semblance. The world seemed to slow around you a bit. Each step was sharper, every dodge was cleaner, movements flowing easier than before. You felt faster, more agile, more precise. Of course, that came with a price. A strong enough hit could easily send you flying far away.

But Pyrrha wasn’t in a position to land one. Not with her loud gun.

You dashed forward, weaving left and right in erratic, precise bursts. Her bullets grazed you, fleeting sparks on your Aura after each shot, but none struck solidly enough to stop your momentum. Each shot barely brushed past as you closed the distance.

By the time her shield snapped back into her grasp, you were already in front of her. Her spear was still locked in musket form, though you suspected she could shift it at will. No novice would fight so boldly, using such risky transitions mid-battle. That split-second of hesitation was all you needed.

You struck first. Your dual sabers cutting through the air in rapid succession, keeping her entirely on defense as you tried to overwhelm her. She stumbled back, parrying what she could and blocking the rest. Her weapon had reverted to a spear, but the type of grip she held it with made her movements clumsy and ineffective for countering your relentless pace. As long as you kept pressure, her options would stay limited.

You could force her out of the ring. It was possible, even easy, but predictable. A win like that wouldn’t earn respect. Breaking her Aura would make the victory absolute. Clean. Undeniable. That sounded better. You just needed to push yourself a bit more. Get more in the fight. What a good idea.

No. It wasn’t a good idea. No… this wasn’t just a duel. It wasn’t meant for you to win. It was arranged to polish her image at the cost of yours. A stage for her rise, no matter the result.

You wouldn’t let whoever arranged this to happen. You’d defeat her, but you’d do it with grace. No excess aggression, no humiliation. Just precision. Control. Skill against skill. Good luck making you look bad if you managed to win with those conditions.

Funny how, with so many unspoken handicaps on you, the fight felt balanced after all. She only had to not lose. You had to perform perfectly just to make it even.

But you knew it wasn’t her fault. She didn’t deserve your hostility.

You lightened the weight of her equipment again. She struggled more to keep up with the rhythm of your barrage. Yeah, your sabers were deflected from time to time by some unseen force, almost if they were pushed or pulled, but you were already used to those subtle changes. It was easier now to adapt to whatever she was doing. Maybe she had a semblance like yours? Something similar, at least. This worked in your favor.

Her footwork grew frantic. She was getting desperate. No wonder. If you’d been forced onto the defensive for half a minute against a torrent of erratic, lightning-fast strikes, you’d be frantic too.

You toyed with the weight of her weapon again, shifting it heavier and lighter in an uneven rhythm, forcing her to constantly readjust while dodging. Dirty tactic, but invisible to everyone but her. If anything, she was doing the same to you, telekinetic interference on your blades. Weird, but manageable.

You acclimated to the switching weights, flowing between increased and decreased mass. With so many recent catastrophes, you’d had to sharpen your skills. Remember the elevator. You’d dropped the ball there, but it taught you tricks you were using now. This was a good chance to test them.

Wait. Elevator? What… elevator?

Her back leaned too far after a stumble. The perfect opening. You sent a horizontal slash, lightening yourself first so the speed spiked, then adding weight at the last second to drive through any push her semblance could throw at you. The weight-up would also increase force, but it might slow the blade enough for her to be able to block.

But you wanted that.

On cue she crossed spear and shield to take the blow. She held it, took it like a champ, then toppled backward toward the arena’s edge. Her weapons flew to opposite sides. She hit the ground, disarmed.

You wouldn’t let her repeat the same trick twice.

From range you slammed the weight of her gear way up. Whatever she used to tug them back, telekinesis, gravity Dust, whatever, it would be far harder with that much increase in gravity. With her weapons out of the reach of her Aura, you could go all-out with your own Semblance.

She pointed first towards her shield with her right hand. It slid across the floor, attracted to her, vibrating, but not close enough for her to reach it.

You raised your right saber, its tip aimed squarely at her head. She looked up at you, fear and panic flashing across her face, as she strained to pull her weapons back. After a few tense seconds, she stopped. Her eyes closed while her teeth clenched. She knew it was over. The audience knew it too.

You couldn’t help but wonder how the announcer would twist this outcome in her favor.

“I yield. You win.” Her breathing was ragged, her voice full with regret. She didn’t like losing. Neither did you. You understood perfectly what she felt, because it was exactly what you’d been fighting to avoid all your time in Haven. Specially now.

Silence filled the arena. You’d done it. You defeated her cleanly. She yielded. There was no question who had won. You hadn’t humiliated her, hadn’t resorted to brutality. It was a graceful, decisive victory. Disarming an opponent was often harder than overpowering one. Good thing it looked far better from the outside.

“What an incredible duel! The Star of Haven versus the Gem of Argus! Both gave us a spectacle unlike anything we’ve seen before! Let’s hear it for our Huntresses, they’ve more than earned this applause!” The commentator’s voice boomed, and the crowd erupted.

At least he gave you some of the credit.

You lowered your weapon and extended your hand toward Pyrrha. She glanced to the side, towards her fallen weapons, hesitation in her expression. A few seconds passed. Now she had to take this lost duel with grace.

She extended her hand, accepting the handshake and the help.

You took her hand and helped her back to her feet. She pulled you into a hug, forcing a small smile. But you could see it in her eyes. She didn’t like how this ended.

“You’re amazing. I still have a lot to learn,” she said, her gaze fixed on the floor instead of your face. “I’m… sorry.”

“Sorry?” you echoed. What could she possibly be sorry for? Was she planning something underhanded? No. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t risk her reputation like that.

“They think I don’t know. But I do.” Her voice was soft, nearly drowned out by the cheers of the crowd calling both your names. It was almost even. An ideal outcome, all things considered.

“What do you mean by that?”

She stayed silent for a moment, unable to answer right away. From the benches, spectators began climbing down towards the arena, while the guards struggled to keep others in their seats.

“I know that even if it had ended in a draw, most people would’ve still thought of me as the winner. You know, the underdog’s advantage and all that.” She paused, her voice trembling slightly before she steadied it. “But I don’t agree with them. I… don’t want to take your title. In a way, I’m glad I lost.”

Her tone cracked again, but she held her composure. Every word came from the heart.

“You can keep being the Star of Haven. You deserve it. I lost, fair and square, and it seems my tricks couldn’t hold up against yours.”

File: ThetisNikos.png (119 KB, 297x306)

119 KB PNG

“Is everything alright, sweetheart?” A woman with the same red ponytail and striking green eyes approached, surrounded by several professors. “Are you hurt? Are you okay? That fall looked dangerous! You should’ve taken better care of my child. She’s not even fifteen! Why didn’t you hold back? Are you out of your mind?” Her voice shifted sharply from protective to accusatory, the last words clearly aimed at you. What could you even say to that? She was just a mother defending her daughter.

“I’m fine, Mother.” Pyrrha stepped between you both. “Really, I’m fine. If anything, Miss Shelly was careful. She held back a lot. Please… don’t talk to her like that. She treated me well.”

“But the fall! And then she pointed her weapon, and I thought that I-” Her words faltered when Pyrrha gently touched her arm.

“Mom… please…” You couldn’t see Pyrrha’s face from where you stood, but her tone said everything.

The two stayed quiet for a long moment, exchanging a silent understanding. Pyrrha’s mother finally turned to you while the professors continued examining her daughter for injuries.

“I’m sorry. She’s my pride and joy. I… get emotional seeing her fight, and results like these aren’t something I’m used to. I’m sorry, Miss Shelly.” Her voice softened, genuine remorse replacing her earlier hostility. You couldn’t blame her. If your mother had watched you fight, she’d probably have reacted the same way.

“No worries, ma’am. Your daughter is a prodigy. I’m sure she’ll have an incredible career ahead of her.” You hid your bitterness behind a polite smile.

“Thank you… Sweetie, let’s go.” Pyrrha’s mother placed a hand on her shoulder, gently trying to pull her away from the arena.

But Pyrrha resisted. She turned back toward you.

“Can… can you give me some pointers? Some tips? Tell me how to get better?”

Her mother and a few professors tried to usher her off, but she stood her ground, even as they tugged at her arm. The moment was awkward, but it felt sincere.

> “You rely too much on your Semblance.” She fought well, but depended on it too heavily. Against a clever opponent that got used to it she would be in big trouble.
> “Don’t use flashy moves against dangerous opponents.” Her loss came from risking too much for spectacle. Even when she executed it well, those moves were just not ideal against someone of equal or more skill.
> “Fight more like me. Be more aggressive.” She had the power, the stamina, the speed, and the skill, everything she needed to seize the initiative. She just had to take her chances when she got them.
> Other (Write in)

>>6323822
>> “You rely too much on your Semblance.” She fought well, but depended on it too heavily. Against a clever opponent that got used to it she would be in big trouble

>>6323822
> “Don’t use flashy moves against dangerous opponents.” Her loss came from risking too much for spectacle. Even when she executed it well, those moves were just not ideal against someone of equal or more skill.

>>6323822
>> “Don’t use flashy moves against dangerous opponents.” Her loss came from risking too much for spectacle. Even when she executed it well, those moves were just not ideal against someone of equal or more skill.

>>6323822
>“Don’t use flashy moves against dangerous opponents.” Her loss came from risking too much for spectacle. Even when she executed it well, those moves were just not ideal against someone of equal or more skill.

File: LeonardoLionheart.png (71 KB, 207x237)

71 KB PNG

>>6323822

“Don’t use flashy moves against dangerous opponents.” You raised your voice, projecting over the growing crowd as Pyrrha was practically pulled away by the professors, students, and fans swarming around her. “A single misstep can be fatal, and against someone experienced? They’ll take advantage of it.”

“T-thank you! I’ll remember that!” Her voice was faint, almost lost in the chaos. If your hearing weren’t so sharp, you might have missed it entirely beneath the noise of cheering and chatter.

And then… silence, at least for you. No reporters. No fans. No professors pushing through to shake your hand. You stood alone at the center of the arena, the victor. The lone victor.

What a sad thing that you were used to this feeling.

A few students caught your gaze and waved shyly. You waved back, forcing a smile. It wasn’t much, but it was something. The proper thing to do now was to take that small comfort and be content. Content that at least a few people still looked your way.

“That was an astounding performance, Miss Shelly!” A familiar voice came from behind. Rough but warm. Headmaster Leonardo Lionheart. You’d always liked him. A bit too passive at times, sure, but genuinely kind.

“Thank you, sir.” You wanted to say more, anything to fill the lingering awkwardness, but your eyes couldn’t leave the scene unfolding.

Cameras flashed. Reporters pressed in. The crowd buzzed around Pyrrha, microphones and questions flying. She looked… uneasy. Her smile was practiced, breaking every few seconds under the weight of so much attention.

She wasn’t used to being the center of the world.

“She’s quite the fighter, isn’t she?” Lionheart’s tone carried an odd solemnity beneath the praise. “A huntress like her only comes once every hundred years.” There was pride in his words. Pride, but also politics. Of course he was promoting her. Pyrrha Nikos would bring prestige to Mistral, to Haven. Maybe even enough for the entire kingdom to stand shoulder to shoulder with Vale someday.

School rivalries never really faded, no matter how noble the speeches.

“I once dreamed of being in her place.” The words slipped out before you realized you were speaking. “Fame, power, renown. Strength. I wanted to be the kind of heroine people looked up to.”

“M-Miss Shelly! Of course you’re still our top student!” His voice trembled with forced warmth. He always said that. Maybe he even believed it a little, but you knew better. In combat? Sure, only some professors had a chance to beat you. But tactics? Knowledge? You could name at least five students better than you in that regard.

“And besides,” he continued, trying to lighten the air, “those aren’t the ideals that should drive a Huntsman or a Huntress.”

“I know… I know.” Your tone softened. “Those were just the dreams I had when I was a child.”

But you weren’t a child anymore. Graduation was only months away. After that came the real missions. The real weight of what being a Huntress meant. Even with the bitterness inside you, there was still that faint, stubborn hope that once you were out there, doing real work, things would finally get better. You’d make them get better. That you'd feel better

“It’s good to have dreams, Miss Shelly,” Lionheart said. “They’re what guide us when we’re at our lowest.”

He rested a hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle pat. You noticed how light his touch felt. When you first enrolled, he’d been broad-shouldered, almost imposing. Now his frame looked leaner, his face more drawn.

“Sir… is everything alright?” You turned to look at him.

He smiled, or at least tried to. “Of course. Just… tired, that’s all.”

Something was bothering him. You could see it in the way his eyes darted away. But he wouldn’t tell you. Just as you wouldn’t tell him about the things that bothered you.

“Yes, Shelly. Everything is alright. Just… taking care of a school is hard work. But don’t fret. Everything’s all right.” His tone was steady, but you could hear the fatigue in it. “Now, Miss Shelly, I’m sorry for interrupting you, but… you had to go to the nurse’s office, right?”

The nurse’s office. Right. You used to go there two or three times a week. That was months ago. Now you went almost every day.

“Yes. I suppose I should go.” You hesitated for a moment. Every visit left you feeling… off. Not better. Different. But whatever medicine, pills, or treatment that green-haired girl gave you, it worked, at least well enough.

“You don’t have to go today if you don’t want to, Shel.” Lionheart said gently. “After all, you had quite a fight. Maybe you should take the rest of the day off?”

He always tried to get you to slow down, to take a break.

“I’m fine,” you said. “Besides… you know why I should go. Right? I was lucky today that nothing happened, but who knows what’ll happen in the future.”

He fell silent. The air between you grew heavy. You both knew what you were referring to, but neither of you ever spoke about it outright. The subject had become almost taboo.

“Right. Your symptoms do tend to dissipate,” he murmured, forcing a small smile. His voice faltered, and you caught the slight tremor in his breathing. “But… sorry. I’m overthinking things. I seriously think you should stop going.”

“Stop going?” You blinked, surprised. Surely he was joking. “Sir, you were the one who suggested it in the first place. And it’s been working! Really, thank you. I know you’re worried about me, but if you keep trying to get me to slack off, I’ll have to tell on you, you know?”

You gave him a light punch on the shoulder and laughed.

Lionheart chuckled too, but it was an awkward sound. Tight, restrained. “Yeah, you’re right. You’re right.” He smiled faintly. “It’s just that I’m worried about you, Shelly.”

“And I thank you for that. Really. Thanks for taking care of me, sir. I’ll make sure Haven stands above every other school. I’ll make you proud.” The words came from the heart. He’d always watched your back, always found ways to cover for you when things went wrong on missions. He deserved that much.

“Say hello to Cerise for me, will you?” Lionheart said, giving an awkward little wave as you turned to leave.

Cerise?

You stopped mid-step. “Sir, sorry? Didn’t you mean Kiwi?” The nurse’s name. The one who always gave you the strange pills and made you sleep and meditate.

“That’s what I said. Kiwi.” Lionheart’s tone was flat, quiet. Too quiet. The noise of the arena seemed to fade into nothing, as if the world had turned down its own volume.

Cerise. That name, it scratched at the back of your mind. You knew it. You remembered it.

Cerise was… a scientist. The one who’d helped you. The one who got hurt. How did you know that?

Oh, shit.

You were still in the illusion. The fucking illusion.

You tried to move, force your eyes to open wider, but they already were. You grabbed your head, fingers digging into your temples as if you could tear the fog away by force. Anything. You just needed to wake up.

“Shelly?” Lionheart’s voice broke through almost as if he was underwater, filled with concern. “Are you okay?”

That was the last thing you heard before the illusion shattered.

And when you finally opened your eyes, a small, bitter part of you wished you hadn’t.

All around you, corpses. Torn, mangled, shredded remains of the scientists who’d once been staring at the girl inside that cage. You recognized arms, legs, even heads all around the room, almost as if someone had picked up and used an oversized blender.

Your sabers were out, your hands wielding them. Their blades dripped with thick, dark blood. The smell was foul.

And Cerise… where the hell was Cerise?

You had her. You had her. Now? She was gone.

You scanned the room as your heart pounded, and there, she was sitting on the floor. The same pale-haired girl from before, calm as ever. Cerise’s body lay motionless across her lap. The girl’s delicate fingers brushed through Cerise’s red hair, studying her face with the idle curiosity of someone examining a broken toy.

Shit.

Fuck.

How did she get her? When?

File: Strife.png (436 KB, 449x405)

436 KB PNG

“Sis, sorry! She got out! It’s kinda tricky to keep the live ones still, y’know?” A cheerful voice came from behind. That same boy from before, the one who’d been hiding among the machinery. He crouched beside a dismembered body, poking it like it was nothing more than debris. His metal arm gleamed red under the lights, his grin wide and disturbingly pure. Brown hair tied in a loose ponytail. His red eyes glowing with sick amusement.

He looked up at you, and every instinct in your body screamed that something was wrong with him.

“Mhm.” the white-haired girl hummed, not even glancing your way. Her focus stayed on Cerise, tracing the edge of her jaw, almost tenderly.

You couldn’t lose Cerise. Not like this. She was the only one who might fix your head, the only person who understood what was happening to you.

But these two… they weren’t like anything you’d seen. Not human. Not faunus. Somewhere deep inside your head you knew that this was wrong. That they shouldn’t be here in this reality.

> “Can you please give her back?” Keep your voice steady. Don’t provoke them. They could warp your mind, trap you again. The boy had already done it quite a few times. Best to tread carefully, at least for now.
> Raise your sabers. Demand she return Cerise. You didn’t care about playing nice anymore. You were hanging by a thread, and if they didn’t listen, you’d make them.
> Screw this. Move now. They weren’t human. You felt it. You couldn't afford being cautious. Dash in, snatch Cerise and escape this god-forsaken lab, whatever it takes.
> Other (Write in)

>>6326249
>> “Can you please give her back?” Keep your voice steady. Don’t provoke them. They could warp your mind, trap you again. The boy had already done it quite a few times. Best to tread carefully, at least for now.

>>6326249
>> “Can you please give her back?” Keep your voice steady. Don’t provoke them. They could warp your mind, trap you again. The boy had already done it quite a few times. Best to tread carefully, at least for now.

>>6326249
>“Can you please give her back?” Keep your voice steady. Don’t provoke them. They could warp your mind, trap you again. The boy had already done it quite a few times. Best to tread carefully, at least for now.

>>6326249

“Can you give her back?” You swallowed hard, forcing the words out. Your throat felt dry, your chest tight. Whatever these two were capable of, it wasn’t something you wanted to test. The illusions were bad enough, and even the reanimated scientists had been easier to stomach than this. But now… now there was a faint, piercing buzz clawing at the back of your mind. Some primal instinct screamed at you to run. To get away from this place. From them.

“Aw, what? She’s your friend?” the boy said from somewhere behind you, his tone far too casual for the nightmare surrounding you. You turned to answer, but a single sharp glance from the white-haired girl silenced him instantly. He grinned sheepishly and went back to nudging one of the corpses with his metal boot, humming a slightly out of tune song.

Then her eyes met yours. Cold, silver, unreadable. She said nothing, still combing her fingers through Cerise’s red hair with a strangely gentle motion, like a child refusing to let go of a favorite doll.

Was she hesitating? Thinking it over? Would she refuse? And if she did… what then? Would you fight her? Fight them both? Could you?

The girl let out a faint sigh. “Okay. Take her.” Her tone was calm. She didn’t rise or even shift. Her hand kept stroking Cerise’s head, slow and deliberate, like she wasn’t quite ready to let go.

You stepped closer. Was it a trap? Your eyes flicked toward the boy, still distracted, still smiling to himself. No movement. No signal for an ambush or anything like that. Maybe… maybe it really was safe.

You stopped right in front of her, waiting for her to hand Cerise over. She didn’t move. She wasn’t holding her back, either. Just waiting for you to act.

Fine.

You knelt down and reached forward carefully as every nerve in your body screamed. The instant your hands brushed against Cerise’s body, a sharp current ran through your skin. It wasn’t literal electricity, but it felt like it. Biting, invasive, and most of all, wrong. The pain surged up your arms and into your shoulders. You jerked your hands back on reflex.

The girl didn’t flinch. Didn’t react.

Fine.

You gritted your teeth, pushing past the pain. You were already hurt. What was a little more?

You moved your hands to grab Cerise’s waist and head. The girl stopped caressing her, but her gaze stayed fixed on the sleeping redhead.

“She’s going to die soon.” the girl whispered as she handed Cerise back. You stuttered. Die? No. No, that was a lie. A trick. You didn’t want Cerise to die. Not after all of this. Not after your fuckup with the elevator. Calm down, Shelly. Calm down. You could still fix this.

“That’s a nice emotion she has. It feels nice.” the boy commented as he hopped over broken machinery. “Don’t you agree, sis? It feels nice, doesn’t it?”

Emotion?

“You don’t want her to die, right?” The girl turned to look at you. For a second your hearing was cut out. Your fear evaporated. It was like your senses had been sealed in a soundless chamber. You felt neutral. Fine. But you knew it was fake. Something was screwing with your head.

“No. No, I don’t want her to die.” What would happen if Cerise left this world? What would happen to your head? How many years until someone could even look inside your mind and know how to fix it? Would someone like that even appear?

“Wow. This feels so nice. Sis, kill the scientist right now. I want to see if that makes us feel good.” The boy laughed, balancing on one foot. Your instincts flared. Your Aura returned with the rush of panic and anger. You wouldn’t let that happen. You’d fight for Cerise’s life. You wouldn’t let them-

“No, brother. That would be rude.” the sister replied, slightly annoyed, scolding him like a parent. He tsked and kept playing. “Why don’t you want her to die?” she asked.

What kind of question was that? Because… dying is bad. Fuck. What a simple minded, childish thought. The thought pushed back memories of the conversation with Taylor about whether it’s right to kill. Life mattered to you. Why wouldn’t you want someone to live?

“You’re confused.” the girl said again, her silver eyes studying you like a specimen. Shit. She was one of those. You had a hunch about what she was, but you weren’t sure you wanted to be right.

“So, you can feel emotions,” you said carefully. A simple comment to bait and test her reaction.

“Yes. I can. All my siblings can, to an extent.”

Siblings? There were more of them?

“Where are your siblings, then? I only see the two of you. Are they playing in the other rooms?” If you could get on their good side… Maybe that wasn’t a bad idea. As long as they stopped interfering with you, maybe you could even… cooperate with them?

“They left.” she replied flatly.

“Left? Where?”

“When we were sleeping, we had a strange dream about a girl and an old man.” The boy said, his voice losing some of its playful tone. “In the dream, the girl showed us a pendant and told us to follow her. Then we woke up, and the others went after them. Don’t know where.”

An eerie feeling settled deep in your stomach.

“Did the man walk with a long cane covered in spikes? Did he have dark, liquid things flying and crawling around him?” Please say no. Please say no.

“Ah, you met him too?” The boy said cheerfully, smiling as he tried to climb a wall toward the empty cage hanging from the ceiling.

Shit.

“Oh! Oh, that feels nice! Sis, she’s doing it again! What emotion is that? What’s its name? I want to know, please tell me!” His enthusiasm made your skin crawl. You didn’t even know how to answer. It was a mess of fear, nerves, and raw anxiety tangled together with no single word to name it.

“I can help you, if you help us.” the girl said suddenly. Her tone was calm, almost gentle, as both your hands steadied Cerise’s limp head. “Your friend is going to die soon. I can feel it. I can help you bring her back.”

A deal? The thought crossed your mind before. The sister seemed the more rational one. If anyone could be reasoned with, it was her.

Wait. Bring her back? Like the undead things from before? That was wrong. So horribly wrong.

“I can help you bring her back, and my brother can make sure she doesn’t turn into a mindless husk. Brother, can you do that?”

“I don’t know!” The boy’s grin widened as he spun around mid-step. “Haven’t tried it yet. But I can try! It’d be so much fun! Can I try right now?” His overeager voice felt annoying.

“You’re confident?” The white-haired girl sighed, as if trying to reassure herself. “I’m pretty sure he can. I have a gut feeling. But no promises.”

“Alright… what do you want in return?” You asked. It was reasonable to hear both sides before agreeing to anything.

“You help us get out. We’re bored. We’ve been here for… how long have we been here?” the sister asked the boy. He was suddenly at your shoulder, peeking around you. You jumped and stepped back. How had you not noticed him? Your hearing was superb. Something was wrong with your senses.

“Well, I don’t know. I’ve heard ‘weeks’ and ‘days’ in lots of memories, but I can’t tell. Sis, give me a big number.”

“…A thousand?” she guessed, puzzled.

“We’ve been here at least a thousand weeks and a thousand days! No, add a thousand years too! Years are longer than weeks, right? What even is a week?” he crowed, absurdly excited.

There was no way they’d been here that long. You looked to the sister for confirmation. She shrugged, deadpan. “We’ve been here at least a week. Maybe a month. Time’s weird.”

“Wow, sis, you’re so smart!” the boy crowed, hugging her from behind. She visibly bristled, clearly annoyed, then handed Cerise’s body over without resistance.

> Agree to the deal. You wanted to find an exit, anyway, and if these two could somehow help you out with Cerise? Then fine. You would… deal with the consequences. Maybe an… undead Cerise could still feel things? Could still think? Far better than letting her die in vain.
> Find a middle ground. Maybe they could help you in healing her. These two had weird Semblances. You didn’t want for Cerise to outright die and become one of those… things. It would feel wrong. This wasn’t the ‘life’ you were fighting to protect. This was a twisted version of it.
> No. You trusted in yourself and your skills. Even with how creepy these two brothers were, you were confident that you could escape this underground lab on your own. You would find help out there. Medical help, somehow. Deep inside your primal mind you knew that letting these two out would be unleashing something unholy onto Remnant.

>>6327532
>Find a middle ground. Maybe they could help you in healing her. These two had weird Semblances. You didn’t want for Cerise to outright die and become one of those… things. It would feel wrong. This wasn’t the ‘life’ you were fighting to protect. This was a twisted version of it.

>>6327532
>> Find a middle ground. Maybe they could help you in healing her. These two had weird Semblances. You didn’t want for Cerise to outright die and become one of those… things. It would feel wrong. This wasn’t the ‘life’ you were fighting to protect. This was a twisted version of it.

>>6327532
>Find a middle ground. Maybe they could help you in healing her. These two had weird Semblances. You didn’t want for Cerise to outright die and become one of those… things. It would feel wrong. This wasn’t the ‘life’ you were fighting to protect. This was a twisted version of it.

>>6327531

“I… don’t like the idea.” Inside your head, a barrage of thoughts collided. In a strictly practical sense, making Cerise a loyal undead would likely give you a better chance of ensuring her loyalty would not be broken or swayed (and even that was a maybe at best, who knew the limits of these two?).

However, from an ethical point of view, allowing her sacred… life, or whatever it was, to be altered felt fundamentally wrong. You found fault in letting them turn her into a mindless servant, yet walking away without taking advantage of this opportunity also felt like a waste.

“A middle ground.” Before the siblings could speak, you decided to do so yourself after a brief pause. “I’d like this… situation to come to a middle ground.”

“What do you mean? Are you getting cold feet? I thought you really cared for her! Humans are really weird, sis. I can’t make sense of them.” The brother spoke up. For a moment he seemed offended but… the more you tried to gauge his emotions, the more confused you became.

The sister, on the other hand, simply kept watching you, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly, as if she were studying you with heightened concentration.

“I don’t want Cerise to turn into… one of those things.” You gestured toward the vast mass of rotting bodies. “I don’t want to sound disrespectful to you, miss… erm…” You left space for her to speak. You at least wanted to know her name.

She didn’t answer. She only stared, ignoring your prompt. What followed was a slightly awkward silence.

“…I don’t want to sound disrespectful. Let’s leave it at that. Are you sure there isn’t a way for you to heal her without… turning her? Are her wounds that severe?” You weren’t exactly a social butterfly, but you knew how to manage yourself around strange, maybe slightly unhinged people. Sora was a good example. But these two… they were truly terrible at social cues.

The girl in front of you gazed at Cerise again, slowly pushing her brother away from the hug they were still sharing. “I don’t know.”

“Is that your answer to whether… the wound is really that bad or-” You were cut off as the girl interrupted.

“For both questions. Do you think the gift I give to people isn’t life?” It was almost impossible to gauge what either of them felt. The brother was ever-changing, volatile, jumping from one emotion to the next. The girl, by contrast, was completely devoid of expression. You couldn’t tell if they were offended. You didn’t know how far you could push your arguments.

“I don’t know. But it doesn’t feel right.” A safe answer. You didn’t like lying, and this phrasing played to that instinct. Better to be direct here. If they felt hostility toward you, you trusted they would make it obvious. You might as well keep things civil for now.

“Oh, Sis! I caught a good one. This comes from when she felt betrayed after her ‘team,’ or something like that, decided to-” The boy began, his excitement flaring as he glanced at you, only to be interrupted by his sister this time.

“Quiet. I’m thinking.” Her eyes felt like they were piercing through you from head to toe. It was deeply uncomfortable.

You had to look away. Meeting her gaze while she studied you so intently felt… wrong. Was this supposed to be some kind of power play? After averting your eyes, you focused on the room around you, but no matter how much you tried, you could still feel her stare directly on you. Who knew a simple gaze could have that kind of effect?

“I accept. I’ll try not to make her a… you know. But I can’t promise I’ll succeed. So… care to help us get out?” She stood, startling you slightly as her gaze shifted toward the destroyed security gate behind you.

“Fine. I was looking for an exit myself too, but wouldn’t it be better for you to take care of Cerise first?” A bold move. Even you were slightly surprised by what you said. A few years ago, you would have upheld your end of the bargain and simply waited for the other party to respect theirs. And now? You, demanding the other side act first? Good job, Shelly. You were getting better at this.

The girl snapped her fingers. One of the many dead bodies in the room stood up. He grabbed his own severed arm and placed it where it belonged, and as the girl moved her fingers like a puppeteer, the undead scientist’s arm stitched itself back together, flesh shifting on its own as he reattached the appendage.

The undead figure walked forward silently. He had neither a heartbeat nor a breathing pattern. As he approached your right side, he extended his arms in a way similar to how you were carrying Cerise.

The girl jumped onto his shoulders, sitting atop him like a daughter riding on her father. She exchanged a glance with you. “I can’t lift her. I’m not strong enough.” That was her only explanation.

Well… she was in contact with Cerise already, back when you were fighting the memory of the Nikos girl. If she had wanted Cerise dead, she would have done something to her already.

As you transferred Cerise’s unconscious body into the undead’s arms, you tried to study him more closely. His flesh was grey, his eyes unfocused. Did he even have free will? Was he conscious of any of this? Or was he simply following commands like a construct or an android?

You noticed the nametag on his torn scientist coat. His name was Nell. The name rang a bell. It was recent. Wait, he was the man Cerise had asked you to find and rescue. Maybe it was for the best that she wasn’t awake to witness what had become of him.

Something jumped from behind you. Something small that covered your eyes. You struggled to pull him off, swaying from side to side, his giggling the only sound you could hear for a moment. “I want a ride too! Go on, birdie! Go on!”

“Birdie?” The nickname disarmed you. Only Sora called you that, and you were certain very few people knew about it.

“Yeah, the chick you think about so often. That’s your name, right, Birdie? Or is it Shelly? Or Susie? Why do you change names so much? Do you dislike them?” You finally managed to push his hands away enough to see again.

You lifted your head. Your eyes met the brother’s. Ugh. Part of you wanted to slam him into the ground for doing this without asking, but you knew better. You didn’t want these two as enemies. Not now, at least.

“Onwards, my faithful steed! Let’s find a way out of this dangerous dungeon before the mighty dragon comes and eats us!” The brother pointed forward toward the only exit in the room.

“I apologize on his behalf. He isn’t aware that he’s annoying.” The sister spoke first, walking ahead with the undead scientist as her “mount” while she gently touched and prodded Cerise’s forehead and chest, examining her.

“That’s not true! I know exactly how annoying I am! And I don’t apologize!” the brother shouted from atop your shoulders, kicking your back and arms to urge you forward so you would follow the other pair.

Great. Now you had to play nanny for a pair of monsters.

“Oh! That anger feels amazing! Do that more, do that more!” He kicked you again and again. Right, both of them could sense emotions. You would have to regulate your feelings even more when close to these two.

A small, tiny part of you had wanted this ordeal to end in a fight. Instead, you got… this. Your patience was truly being tested.

---

The exploration of the underground labs was… surprisingly uneventful. Everything down here was quiet and desolate. At first, the brother on top of you kept trying to pull you into illusions, again and again, but his sister scolded him every single time. He stopped bothering you soon after.

Cerise kept… sleeping. You focused on the sound of her breathing, and it was fainter than ever. Still present. She was still alive, but it was faint enough to make you fear she might slip away at any moment. And on top of that, you were fully aware that the girl was doing… things to her. Invisible, untraceable things. Her Semblance felt almost like magic. You hadn’t even seen her use her Aura. Did she even have any? It was rare for a Semblance to affect someone through active Aura, yet the brother’s illusion ability affected you directly, even though your reserves were partially charged. Who were these two?

You were the one leading this exploration. You had promised the girl you would help them find an exit, and you wanted out just as badly. These underground labs would make for an unsettling and humiliating tomb if you failed to escape. But if the Kuchinashi monsters had been able to reach this place at some point, then there had to be a way in and out. Perhaps another elevator…

> The best way to exit this place was through another lift. It would be unreasonable for only one lift to exist, so there must be an alternative point of entry and exit. Search for one.
> Search the investigation area for information on whatever the Black Sheep was doing here. This was a hidden lab buried inside a mountain that already housed a secret base of operations. Whatever was stored here could be extremely valuable or significant.
> There was still electricity. And beyond that, you could hear the faint sound of running water behind the walls. Following the pipes might lead you to a hydro-powered generator or something similar. This could be a solid lead to a potential exit.
> Other (Write in)

>>6330266
>Search the investigation area for information on whatever the Black Sheep was doing here. This was a hidden lab buried inside a mountain that already housed a secret base of operations. Whatever was stored here could be extremely valuable or significant.

>>6330266
>> The best way to exit this place was through another lift. It would be unreasonable for only one lift to exist, so there must be an alternative point of entry and exit. Search for one.

>>6330266
>Search the investigation area for information on whatever the Black Sheep was doing here. This was a hidden lab buried inside a mountain that already housed a secret base of operations. Whatever was stored here could be extremely valuable or significant.

>>6330266
> Search the investigation area for information on whatever the Black Sheep was doing here. This was a hidden lab buried inside a mountain that already housed a secret base of operations. Whatever was stored here could be extremely valuable or significant.

>>6330266

You had to leave this place. There was no question about it. There wasn’t a secure route yet, you had a troupe of “civilians” with you, and you had no idea about the state of your allies and friends outside. And yet… there was no real need to flee immediately. You were standing in the heart of this miserable Syndicate. They had ruled over Kuchinashi for years. They had done awful things to you and others even while you were in Atlas. (Were they truly responsible? Maybe.)

You trained as a Huntress to save the world. To save its people. To be a hero and actually do something worthwhile. And right now you had the opportunity in your hands to do something countless Huntsmen had probably died trying to accomplish: destroy this wretched family. For that, you needed information. Anything. Their secrets, their projects, their experiments. Clues. Evidence.

It wouldn’t be a glorious job, but someone had to do it, and right now the only one remotely fit for it was you. You would uncover this place’s secrets. Whatever they were hiding. You’d warn the people outside so no one else had to suffer the things you did, you would-

“You looking for the labs?” The young man on top of you asked, tugging your hair a little.

“How did you-” You tried to question him, but he cut you off again.

“I’m getting used to how you think. I can sorta feel words, ideas, not just memories. The labs are in the next room to the right after the third door from here, as we keep going forward.” The child’s voice was utterly nonchalant. No hint of a joke. If anything, he sounded a bit smug.

“Are you sure?” You needed confirmation. He was a prankster, and trusting pranksters was always idiotic.

“No. But he is.” He pointed a finger at the undead that was carrying both Cerise and his sister. The corpse didn’t speak a word. It just kept walking like an automaton.

“How can I trust you? And please… stop looking into my head. It feels creepy.” You had to steady yourself. Whatever the kid was doing left no trace. Having your mind prodded without warning was unsettling at best.

“You can’t. But I have no reason to lie. I never lie. Isn’t that right, sis?” he said, seeking his sister’s approval again.

“Don’t distract me. I’m busy.” She didn’t even turn around, her focus locked entirely on Cerise.

The child leaned closer to your ear, whispering, “That was a lie. I lie sometimes.” He giggled. He was clearly not all there, and your tolerance for it was wearing thin.

Still, you didn’t have much of a choice. If he truly knew where the labs were, then… fine. You’d go along with it.

After a few minutes of grating noises and the brat’s incessant giggling above you, you finally reached the location he’d described. On the way, you noticed scratch and claw marks increasing the farther you went. Walls, ceiling, everything. You recognized the pattern. Grimm. When was the last time you actually fought Grimm? It felt like ages ago. Unusual for someone in your profession.

At another broken security door, you peeked inside. Another scene of carnage in a darkened room. How… dull. Great. When had staring at a room full of corpses become dull?

Still, this one had a few things that piqued your curiosity.

For starters, you noticed faint traces of orange electricity coming from what you assumed were clusters of Dust Crystals. They weren’t fire, that was certain. They looked (and felt) unstable. They emitted a low humming noise, like a broken, staticky radio. Was this the so-called Grimm Dust Cerise mentioned earlier? Most likely.

You moved closer, the child on top of you finally jumping off as he went to explore on his own. The undead carrying your friend and the girl, however, stayed relatively close. The girl was still busy. Better leave her be and focus on the investigation.

You reached toward the crystal. The orange static jumped erratically to your hand, running up your arm and fading. It stung. It pierced straight through your Aura, weakening it around that limb. Best not touch it again. But what then? You were alone. No one in sight. If anyone tried ambushing you, you’d cut them down in seconds. Split them in half. Maybe put a few arrows through their skulls? It had been a long time since you practiced archery, or maybe-

“Stop doing that.” The girl’s voice came from your left. She was still focused on Cerise.

“Excuse me?” Doing what? You were just thinking normally, strategies, contingencies, stuff…

“You know exactly what I mean. Keep your thoughts more… neutral. It’s distracting. Or move farther away.” She sounded mildly annoyed, almost like when she scolded her brother.

Shit. More neutral? You already thought you were being neutral. You had to think about defending yourself. Maybe this place wasn’t empty. Maybe Grimm were lurking, ready to pounce. No, stay prepared. You still had Dust, a few vials Sora gave you. A decent explosion inside a thorax would vaporize whatever passed for their organs. Did Grimm even have organs? Either way, nothing a few clean cuts wouldn’t-

She grumbled again. Fuck. She was right. You were thinking pretty foul things. And you were fucking swearing more, even in your own head. Shit. Focus, Shelly. Get a grip. Stay away from these crystals. Whatever was crawling through your thoughts, they were making it worse.

File: VictoriasLab.png (734 KB, 695x463)

734 KB PNG

“Hey, found something!” The boy’s voice echoed from somewhere deeper in the dark. After a moment, a switch flipped and a few flickering lights sputtered to life.

You saw… well, cadavers? Bodies? Not only from human scientists. That was a given at this point, but also Grimm. That was the strange part. Grimm corpses didn’t usually linger. They didn’t fade immediately, sure, but they never lasted for days. These had.

A few Sabyrs lay in a corner near the boy, several Swindles piled together, half-torn Beowolves scattered across the floor. An Ursa’s lifeless body hung suspended from a pair of chains. And almost all of them shared one thing: clusters of those orange crystals growing near or out of their bodies. Like some kind of fungus.

Yeah. Best not touch those crystals.

“Approach.”

A faint woman’s whisper slipped into your mind. You snapped your head up, spotting a broken glass containment unit reinforced with steel beams. The siblings looked up at the exact same moment. Clearly, you all heard it.

“Stop with the games, brother. I told you I’m busy.” The girl’s voice cut through the silence, annoyed.

“I swear it wasn’t me! I can’t do that.” He sounded… offended. When he lied, he rambled, deflected, talked in circles. This time he didn’t. A bad sign. It meant he probably wasn’t lying.

“That’s a lie. I know you can. Please don’t do that again, okay?” she murmured, her attention never leaving Cerise as she continued examining her forehead and chest.

You barely caught sight of the kid peering into the broken glass cage. He looked… mesmerized. You couldn’t blame him. That whisper was creepy as hell. But after everything lately, you were used to this sort of thing. Your head needed a break.

A few bloodstained papers lay scattered on the floor. You grabbed one and skimmed it, noticing scientific jargon so convoluted you couldn’t make sense of it. Not that you were focused enough to try. The boy’s behavior wasn’t normal (by his standards, at least). You needed to keep an eye on him.

He started moving toward the cage. He was small enough to slip through the gaps.

“Come to me.”

The woman’s whisper echoed again, louder this time. Your skin crawled. Maybe it was a Grimm. Maybe not. There were too many species to rule anything out.

“I told you to stop doing that. Don’t make me repeat myself. Did you hear me?” The girl’s voice finally cracked with some emotion. Rage, irritation.

“I don’t think he’s the one doing that.” You had to speak. Something about this wasn’t him. You didn’t feel compelled to follow him as he squeezed through the bars. Instead, you felt compelled to step into the darkness of the shattered cage… enter… listen… and kneel.

Something was trying to burrow into your mind again. Enough of that. You were tired of this crap. It felt like getting sick. Awful the first couple of times, but by the third or fourth you had to have built AT LEAST some resistance, right? You could still think clearly. Mostly.

> Use your Semblance on the kid. Make him and his metal arm heavy enough that he can’t move. Whatever’s inside that room isn’t right. Time to save him from himself.
> Something was definitely in there. It was messing with him, and it was trying to mess with you. It kept prodding, needling, pushing. You couldn’t see it, but you could still shoot it with your bow (And dust).
> Approach. Rely on your mental resistance. If you were going in, it would be on your own terms. You needed to see what she, or… it, was before deciding. And if it was bad… maybe you could grab the kids and run.
> Other (Write in)

>>6332170
>Something was definitely in there. It was messing with him, and it was trying to mess with you. It kept prodding, needling, pushing. You couldn’t see it, but you could still shoot it with your bow (And dust).