The crowd roared as the announcer's voice carried through the coliseum.
"Now entering the arena—Weiss Schnee and Yang Xiao Long of Team RWBY!"
Ruby shot up from her seat, waving frantically. "Go Weiss! Go Yang!"
Hyunwoo sat beside her, arms crossed but eyes sharp as he studied the arena. His gaze shifted as two figures rolled out onto the stage.
"...And their opponents, Neon Katt and Flynt Coal of Team FNKI!"
The Atlas students immediately set the tone. Flynt's eyes locked on Weiss, his trumpet slung at his side like a weapon.
"My dad's Dust shop? The one your company crushed. You know, Schnee—this is personal."
Neon circled Yang on her rollerblades, smirking. "Wow, you sure eat well, huh Blondie? You're, like, half muscle, half pancakes."
Yang's brow twitched. "...You really didn't just say that."
Weiss lifted her rapier with poise, but her face tightened at Flynt's words.
The horn blared— the match began.
⸻
The battlefield shifted, the floor splitting open to reveal glowing rivers of lava and jagged volcanic rock.
Neon shot forward in a blur of neon green light, skating effortlessly around Yang. Yang swung and missed, each strike catching only air. Neon laughed, her tail swishing. "Too slow, Sunshine!"
Weiss, meanwhile, was driven back as Flynt's semblance split his body into four copies, each wielding a blazing note from his trumpet that blasted through her glyphs.
Ruby leaned forward, hands gripping the railing. "C'mon, Weiss, you got this!"
Hyunwoo's eyes narrowed. "He's breaking her rhythm... she can't hold up like this."
Weiss grit her teeth, battered by the overlapping sound waves. Her aura flickered dangerously low. Yang shouted for her, but Neon kept the blonde occupied, blades flashing as she zipped around.
And then—Weiss made her choice.
"Yang!" she cried, before charging straight into Flynt's attack. She rammed into him with a burst of glyph-powered speed, forcing his trumpet to misfire. The backfire ignited a wave of lava from below, engulfing them both in a searing pillar of flame.
"WEISS!" Ruby screamed, standing from her seat.
Hyunwoo's fists tightened—but his sharp eyes noticed it first. "...She aimed it."
Through the fire, Weiss was hurled to the ground, her aura flashing red and breaking. But Flynt stumbled too, weakened and coughing from the backlash.
Yang's eyes burned red. "You messed with my partner..."
Her gauntlets flared, and with a flurry of explosive punches, she tore through Flynt's defenses, sending him crashing to the ground. Aura—depleted.
"Flynt Coal is eliminated!"
Neon skated to a halt, eyes wide. "Flynt!—" but her momentum carried her straight into a rising geyser. She tripped, stumbled, and the burst of steam blasted her high into the air before she tumbled out of bounds.
The buzzer blared. "And the winners are—Yang Xiao Long and Weiss Schnee!"
The coliseum erupted in cheers.
Ruby leapt up, tears in her eyes but smiling wide. "That's my sister! That's my team!"
Hyunwoo exhaled slowly, watching Weiss pick herself up with a faint, proud smile despite the scorch marks on her uniform. Yang helped her to her feet, throwing an arm around her shoulder.
"They're reckless," Hyunwoo muttered, though a small smirk tugged at his lips, "but strong. Both of them."
Ruby beamed, grabbing his arm as the crowd cheered. "See? I told you—they're amazing!"
Hyunwoo didn't argue. For once, he just nodded.
___
The dorm room was quiet except for the faint hum of the Scroll in Cinder's hand. She sat lazily on the bed, golden eyes reflecting the blueprints flickering across her screen—Penny Polendina's schematics, line by line.
A smile touched her lips. "So... the little machine has a heart after all. With this, things just became so much easier."
Emerald leaned over the back of the chair she was sitting in, smirking. "Guess that means we're almost set, huh?"
But Cinder's smile faded. Her brows knitted together as she scrolled further. "No... something's wrong."
Mercury, lying upside down on his bed tossing a coin, raised an eyebrow. "Wrong? Looks fine to me. You got the blueprints, didn't you?"
Cinder's eyes narrowed. "Yes. But Ironwood... he's moving differently. Most of his toys—the robots , the mechs—he's recalled them back to Atlas. Suddenly."
Emerald stiffened. "Wait. If that's true, then... our plan to frame Atlas—won't it fall apart?"
Mercury shrugged. "So what? Maybe he got paranoid. The guy's wound tight as it is."
But Emerald leaned forward, frowning. "Or maybe... they detected the virus. If they knew about it, wouldn't they just erase it?"
Cinder tilted her head, expression sharpening like a blade. "If they could, yes. But..." She lowered her Scroll, eyes glinting. "If they remove it, the entire system collapses. Every soldier. Every ship. Every line of code tied to their network."
Mercury let out a low whistle. "So they're keeping it... because they don't have a choice."
Cinder smirked again, though there was no amusement in her tone—only calculation. "Exactly. Which means Atlas knows we're here... and they're stalling."
The room fell silent for a beat.
Emerald shifted uncomfortably. "...Then what do we do?"
Cinder closed the Scroll and set it on the bed, her expression turning cold and resolute. "We proceed. But carefully. Ironwood may suspect—but suspicion is not proof. We'll use that against him."
Her gaze flicked toward the window, where the faint glow of Beacon's night lights bled in. Her voice dropped, heavy with certainty.
"And when the time comes, Atlas will be blamed, no matter how many toys Ironwood has left."
Cinder's eyes narrowed as the live feed showed Roman Torchwick being marched toward the Atlas bullhead. The insignia of Atlas gleamed on the hull, soldiers standing rigid in formation as if flaunting their authority.
A spark of amusement crossed her face. "So... Vale thinks sending him away solves their problem."
Emerald folded her arms. "If Atlas has him, it's out of our hands. Unless..."
Cinder smirked, already turning the Scroll toward Neo, who was watching with unusual focus. "Unless we make it ours. Neo," she purred, her voice smooth and deliberate, "how would you like to take control of that bullhead?"
Neo's mismatched eyes widened slightly, then glittered with delight. She twirled her parasol, her grin sharp and eager.
Mercury raised an eyebrow. "You're kidding. You actually want her to try hijacking an Atlas ship? That's suicide."
Cinder leaned forward, golden eyes burning faintly. "Not if we make it simple. The virus we planted in Ironwood's systems still lingers. They couldn't purge it without breaking their entire network." She tapped the Scroll, showing strings of corrupted Atlas code already being exploited. "All Neo has to do... is step inside. The ship will do the rest."
Emerald frowned. "So she takes control... and then what?"
Cinder's smile turned razor-thin. "Then we let Atlas clean up the mess. Imagine it—one of their own ships turned against them, chaos in their airspace, Roman Torchwick conveniently 'liberated.' The people won't see a criminal's escape... they'll see Atlas losing control."
Neo clapped her hands together soundlessly, practically bouncing in place with excitement. Her parasol snapped open as if sealing the deal.
Mercury groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Great. Just what we need—Neo joyriding in military hardware."
But Cinder only reclined, smug and satisfied. "Every mess has its use, Mercury. And this one will be beautiful."
___
The headmaster's office was quiet at twilight, the last strands of amber light cutting across the glass walls and spilling into the room. Professor Ozpin stood at the window, cane in hand, gazing out at the sprawling city below. His reflection stared back at him, unreadable as ever.
The elevator behind him chimed softly. The doors slid open and Qrow Branwen stepped out, his trademark slouch betraying the weariness in his shoulders. A battered coffee mug hung loosely from his fingers as he approached the desk.
"You know," Qrow muttered, his voice carrying that perpetual rasp, "he's making you look like a fool."
Ozpin didn't turn, not right away. His voice was calm, steady, almost resigned. "His heart is in the right place. He's just... misguided."
Qrow snorted, taking a long drink before setting his mug down with a dull clink. "Sometimes, I'm not even sure he has a heart." He leaned against the desk, eyes narrowing. "So. Have you chosen your guardian yet?"
Only then did Ozpin turn, his chair swiveling with deliberate slowness. His expression softened with something that hovered between hope and certainty. "Maidens choose themselves, Qrow," he said, folding his hands atop the cane. "But... I believe I've found the right candidate."
His eyes grew distant, thoughtful, as if replaying a memory. "Ever since the day I met her, I felt it. That she would be the one. She's strong, intelligent, caring..." A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "But most importantly... she's ready."
Qrow studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable beneath the shadow of his unkempt hair. He didn't argue—not yet. He simply lifted the mug again, taking another slow sip.
_____
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