Chapter Text
It was just some normal training with friends, Ruby thought. Teams RWBY and JNPR were fighting Grimm, and Ruby believed it was a good idea. Not only would it provide valuable training, but it would also help the two sister teams bond and grow closer. Deep down, however, Ruby hoped they would grow closer to her in particular.
She had noticed that her sister team and her own teammates weren’t very fond of her, and it bothered her a lot. She just didn’t understand why. Sure, she had been admitted two years early and was already a star student, but that shouldn’t have made the others dislike her. Right? Even so, she thought she could try to work with them—help them train and be a responsible team leader and friend. However, being responsible wouldn’t help Ruby now, as she noticed far too late that the small group of Grimm around them had grown much larger.
The Grimm seemed to pour out of the forest, growing in number by the second. It quickly became apparent to the teens that this wasn’t just a normal Grimm hotspot. It was as if, the entire time, they had only been fighting the scouts, and since those scouts hadn’t returned, the rest of the forces had finally moved in to claim their prey.
What started as friendly training quickly turned into a desperate fight for survival for Teams RWBY and JNPR. Ruby fought valiantly alongside the other students, and, as always, the heat of battle gave her time to think. They would just blame her for all the Grimm suddenly attacking and injuring them. She was certain they’d hold her responsible for the Grimm doing their best to take off their heads. However, the others—specifically a certain heiress—seemed to have a different plan: not just to get rid of the Grimm, but to address another one of her problems as well.
“We’ve nearly finished most of them!” Ruby yelled as she quickly turned to shoot a Beowolf that had gotten a bit too close. She stumbled but quickly recovered. As a leader, she decided to hang back slightly, relying on her ability to return to the group the fastest. Besides, the recoil from her Sniper Scythe, combined with her Semblance, made her the fastest, so it should have been easy.
Yet, to the young leader’s horror, she tripped. She didn’t know how—it didn’t make sense. She knew she was more careful than that with her footing. Quickly, she looked down at her foot and saw something that made her stomach drop.
A Glyph was right under her foot
She wanted to scream for Weiss, to beg her to let her run again, but her voice was silenced when the foot of a Grimm forcefully pressed her into the ground, shoving her face into the dirt. She could feel its claws and teeth relentlessly trying to tear through her Aura, yet she couldn’t scream. The Grimm wouldn’t let her.
“We gotta go, NOW!” Pyrrha yelled as the Grimm roared again, now much closer and in far greater numbers than before. She was trying to look out for the others, but something felt off—she hadn’t heard Ruby. As Pyrrha’s eyes scanned the horde, her heart sank. Ruby was being mauled by the creatures. “RUBY! WE HAVE TO GET HER!” she screamed.
Yet Ruby didn’t hear it. Instead, she heard a sound that filled her with far more dread—her Aura shattered. Pain erupted through her as her skin was pierced, her bones cracked, and her flesh was torn apart. She managed to scream, but it was quickly silenced when she could no longer feel her throat. The agonizing sensation of her arm being torn from her shoulder was the last thing she felt before everything went dark.
Pyrrha screamed as she watched Ruby being torn apart. She could feel Yang standing beside her, frozen in shock, slowly starting to tremble. Blinded by grief, Pyrrha was about to charge into the fray to fight the Grimm. The champion was ready to risk everything to save Ruby, even if it was futile. But before she could move, a hand gripped her shoulder. She turned quickly to see Jaune, his face pale as he yelled, “We need to go. We… we won’t survive if we just try to fight them all!”
Pyrrha stared at her partner for a moment before gritting her teeth in frustration and reluctantly following him. Yang moved with the rest of the group, her face still bearing a haunted expression as they left Ruby’s corpse behind. Yet, as Ruby’s lifeless body lay there, strange purple flames began to creep toward her. Soft yet hurried footsteps approached the scene before, suddenly, both Ruby’s corpse and the shattered remains of Crescent Rose were taken by a shadowy figure. The figure darted back into the forest, away from the Grimm and the fleeing huntsmen and huntresses-in-training.
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The figure ran faster than the Rose Huntress ever could. Each step shattered the ground beneath it, propelling it forward with incredible force. No matter the terrain, it kept running. Slowly, the figure’s gaze shifted downward toward the corpse in its arms. Its left hand gently brushed the blood-matted hair away from the lifeless face before looking back up, its eyes locking onto the rapidly approaching ocean.
Instead of slowing down, however, the figure only pumped its legs faster. Sure enough, the moment its foot made contact with the water, a Grimm floated to the surface. This strange phenomenon continued, allowing the figure to seemingly run on water. It quickly left the Sanus coastline behind, racing toward the dark continent visible in the distance. That was its target—it had to get there.
The figure could see the broken shards of what was once the moon rising behind the continent it was racing toward. As the sunlight faded, replaced by the pale glow of moonlight, the figure accelerated. It was as if its approach was fueled by the moon, now that it was free from the sun’s light.
It kept running, watching as the shattered moon traced its full arc across the sky. Only when the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon did it reach the distant continent and finally slow down. It slammed its feet into the ground, tearing through the earth to burn off its momentum.
It kept going in a light jog, its gaze roaming the land until it finally found what it wanted. A giant pool of an unknown dark liquid. It softly swayed back and forth, and when the creature approached, the liquid seemed to ripple in response—as if it recognized the newcomer.
The pool of liquid began to ripple, shifting toward the purple-blazing figure, but stopped just at its feet. Slowly, the figure crouched down and gently placed the corpse and the shattered scythe onto the surface. Almost immediately, the liquid surged to life, launching tendrils that latched onto the offering before dragging both beneath its dark, gentle waves.
They remained still like that for nearly an entire day. Occasionally, the pool would grow violent, its surface churning like a raging storm. Each time, the figure plunged its hand beneath the waves, and the liquid would instantly calm. Yet, after all that waiting, something finally changed—a single arm emerged from the liquid.