Pyrrha Nikos
-----
Nobody uttered a single word since their descent, the saving grace being an endless series of beeps that went off in the elevator at regular intervals.
Why was this happening?
The elevator from the ground floor to the top of Beacon Tower should've taken a handful of seconds, but so far, it was an eternity.
Worst yet, Pyrrha was cramped between these so called 'protectors.' She kept her head down and scrunched herself in, avoiding them like prison bars coated in acid.
So many questions raged within her.
Where should she even begin? Ozpin. Goodwitch. Have they always been this way? Lying to their students—to the world? They're not the same loving professors she's had the pleasure of knowing.
They were strangers.
Pyrrha cleared her throat and found the courage to find her voice.
"Where are we going?" she said.
"The vault," Ozpin said without sparing her a glance. "Under the school."
When the elevator finally stopped and opened its doors, Pyrrha was the last to enter the immense, sparsely-lit corridor ahead and considered taking the elevator back up.
Goodwitch waited for her as the others continued on. "I'm sure you must have questions."
"Maybe one, or two. . ." Pyrrha followed her. "I still don't understand. You said I was next in line to receive the Maiden's power. What do you mean by that?
They explained that the Maidens have existed for thousands of years but always change when they die.
A Maiden's power leaves her body and seeks out a new host, ensuring that the seasons are never lost, and no individual can hold on to that power forever. However, over time, they realized the selection process for new Maidens was more convoluted and intimate than previously believed.
Whenever a Maiden dies, the one who was in her final thoughts becomes the first candidate to inherit her power, but if that person is male or an elderly woman, the power goes to someone random.
"Why tell me all of this now?" Pyrrha said. "Why not wait until I've graduated?"
"Honestly, we've run out of time." Qrow swigged his flask. "I don't know if you've noticed, but things are getting a lot scarier out in the world. Tensions are high. Grimm are growing stronger, more prevalent. And it's not going to be long before the peace we've been enjoying for so long goes out the window."
Dread sank its hooks in her. "You're not. . . talking about a war?"
Ironwood turned his head slightly. "Not a war between nations."
"We can fill you in on the details once we know that you're with us," Qrow said. "For now, all you need to know is that one of the Maidens has been attacked. And for the first time in history, part of her power was stolen."
An electrical hum echoed as they made it to the end of the corridor, where a large machine with bright screens connected to a pair of pods braced against the wall.
Pyrrha's fears grew worse.
Through the window in one of the pods, a young girl laid motionless, garbed in a medical gown with a burn scar over her left eye that cut across her face.
Pyrrha drifted closer. "Is that—"
Ozpin sighed. "The current Fall Maiden: Amber."
Amber twitched.
Pyrrha gasped. "She's still alive."
"For now." Ironwood gestured to the devices present. "We're using state of the art Atlas technology to keep her stable. But there is a lot about this situation that is... unprecedented."
The word itself doubled her anxiety. "What do you mean? Won't her power just transfer to the next host?"
"Look who's been listening." Qrow pretended to whisper to Ozpin. "She is smart."
"Under normal circumstances, yes." The General rubbed the bridge of his nose. "But this is a delicate situation. It's not uncommon for the last thoughts of the slain to be of their attacker." He examined Amber. "And to make matters worse, no one's seen the power split like this before. For all we know, it will seek out its other half."
Pyrrha caught the hint. "Her assailant."
The wrinkles on Ozpin's face carved deeper. "And that would not bode well for any of us."
All this information, the gravity of it all, was too much for her to take at once.
Could she even trust them? What if these are all lies and there were more secrets hidden in these walls?
Pyrrha touched the window of Amber's pod, and everything she's been holding in finally boiled over.
"If all of this is true, why keep it secret?!" She glared at each of them. "If this girl is so important, if we're truly on the brink of war, why not tell everyone?"
They explained that it used to be common knowledge long ago.
The group Ozpin and the others are a part of was founded in order to protect both mankind and the Maidens from those hungry for power, hunting them with the hope of inheriting their strength.
To combat that, their group chose to remove the Maidens from the public eye, for their existence to fade away into legend. It went against hundreds of years of human history and religion, and no one would want to believe it.
A worldwide uproar.
Thus began the legends and fairy tales found in every dusty bookshelf on Remnant.
"It would cause panic." Ozpin checked down the corridor as if he could see the future playing then and there. "And we all know what that would bring clawing at our Kingdom's walls. Which is why we would like to—"
"I'll do it." Pyrrha's sudden answer was a surprise to them all, even herself. "If you believe that this will help humanity," she steeled her resolve, "then I will become your Fall Maiden."
They looked at each other, faces tight.
Doubt struck her. "That's what you wanted, isn't it?"
"It is," Ozpin hung his head, "but I'm afraid it's not that simple. Given Amber's condition, you won't be able to inherit her power naturally. However, General Ironwood believes he has a solution."
"For the past few years," Ironwood paced in front of the machinery, "Atlas has been studying Aura from a more scientific standpoint: how it works, what it's made of, how it can be used. We've made. . . significant strides. And we believe we've found a way to capture it.
"Capture it and cram it into something else." Qrow jerked his flask at her. "Or in your case. . ."
Pyrrha recoiled. "That's—"
"Classified," Ironwood said without batting an eye.
"—wrong!"
Goodwitch sneered at the General. "The feeling is mutual, but desperate times call for desperate measures."
"And these are indeed desperate times." Ironwood straightened. "We can't transfer Amber's power to you, but we can give you what those powers are bound to."
Pyrrha struggled to find her breath. "Her Aura."
"Her life would become intertwined with yours." Ozpin paused and closed his eyes. "The question is. . ."
Qrow played with the cap of his flask. "What's that going to do to you?"
This was too much.
How could any of what they say be real?
Her head was going to burst.
Roderick.
Where was Roderick?
"You have an important decision before you, Miss Nikos." Ozpin approached her like she was a frightened animal. "There's no guarantee this transfer will work. And there's no telling if you will be the same person if it does. I advise you to take time on this matter. But understand that before the Vytal Festival is over, we will need your answer."
Pyrrha stood before the pod once again, the tremble in her eyes reflecting over the scarred face of the dying girl within.
"The assailant that attacked the Fall Maiden has made their first move." Ozpin searched the ceiling for whoever it was. "And there's no telling when their next move will be."
-----
Roderick Hill
-----
Lined up in the middle of Amity Colosseum with the other finalist, Roderick's nerves were out of whack.
"This is it, folks!" said Port. "It's the moment you've been waiting for. The one-on-one finals!"
The crowd went wild.
Roderick focused as much as he could while running his sights down the line of competitors.
Penny, Sun, Mercury, a pissed off Yang (hoped he didn't have to fight her tonight), and of course there was Pyrrha—Huh?
Pyrrha fidgeted more than a rookie on their first day, and the way she looked back at him was enough to know she wanted to get out of here.
"Barty," said Port, "much like any good hunt, there is zero time to prepare!"
"Yes, indeed," said Oobleck. "That's because like the doubles round, each match is randomly generated immediately before each fight takes place! Now, let's see who our first combatants will be!"
A roulette of the finalists' photographs on the monitors spun, and once it stopped, Roderick's fears bit him in the butt.
"Roderick Hill and Sun Wukong!" Port said. "Would all other combatants please leave the stage."
Yang winked at Roderick when she passed him by, and Pyrrha slapped him across the face with a smile more bogus than his prosthetic arm.
Seriously, what was going on with her?
Once the stage was clear, the platform hovered high off the floor, the quadrants retracted, and a metal halo floated above, pouring a torrent of spotlights onto them.
"Guess it's just you and me now." Sun twirled his red-gold staff. "Oh, by the way, I'm kinda gonna win this thing."
Rex and Tyrannus brandished in both hands, Roderick forgot the world, closing his ears to the excess noise and drowning the stands in darkness.
No more distractions.
Game time.
The countdown began, the buzzer sounded, and Roderick fired the first shot.
Sun slipped past the revolver round and zoomed forward, swinging his staff around while pulling off acrobatic flips, spins, and kicks.
'Gotta keep him still,' Roderick thought and did his best to parry and dodge. 'But how am I gonna do that against someone like him?'
A spinning heel kick grazed Roderick's chin, and Sun followed it up with a staff thrust. A sidestep solved that problem. He jabbed Rex in return. The monkey boosted himself off the blade, twisted overhead, and smacked his spine.
The bite of metal was worsened by an explosion following the hit. Sun cracked the staff across Roderick's jaw, and another explosion dropped him.
Okay, new rule: don't get hit.
A shrinking shadow appeared next to his head, and Roderick rolled before Sun could stomp a hole in it.
On a knee, Roderick whipped Rex around the monkey's ankle, yanked his feet out, and did his absolute best to punt him into the stands.
Sun slid off the platform, but he caught the edge in time to haul himself back into bounds.
"Don't think you can get rid of me that easily." He puffed his bare chest. "I'm like a weed that never goes away, but can, like, fight back and stuff. And guess what? I can also multiply!"
Clapping his hands and pressing them together, his hair and tail glowed, summoning a yellow clone of himself.
The clone charged him dead on.
Roderick prepared for its attack.
The clone grew brighter.
Uh-oh.
In a burst of light, the clone erupted, blinding and shoving him flat on his back.
Solar clone bombs. Great.
Rapidly blinking and rubbing away the whiteness, Roderick was greeted by Sun's mocking wave and combination of strikes.
A pole vaulting kick to the chest knocked him off the platform.
Roderick whipped Rex around Sun's staff and reeled himself up.
Sun's jaw slacked, and Roderick punched it shut.
Doing a series of back handsprings, he split his staff in half into a pair of nunchucks, freeing it of his whip.
Sun spun them over and under his shoulders and fired them like machine guns, and Roderick worked on surviving the bullet barrage.
It was all about pace.
The nunchucks alternated between firing and cocking, never both at the same time.
Roderick moved faster than an overheating engine, followed along, and once the rhythm came to him, he deflected each arm in a beat of dings and bangs.
The nunchucks clicked.
Sun reconnected his staff, and Roderick back stepped out of its range. Slamming his staff on the floor, Sun released an energy wave. Roderick jumped over it and lodged a round at Sun's feet.
"Ha! You even trying to hit me?!"
The bullet exploded, blasting him out of bounds.
Roderick grinned.
A couple clones appeared and hurled the monkey back in before they vanished.
Roderick frowned.
Sun landed on the edge and clapped, summoning another clone, and Roderick bolted before it could roast his eyeballs again.
All the while, Sun stood in place, hands pressed and sweating.
The clone snatched Tyrannus. Roderick hacked it from existence, and Sun yelped in response as the revolver clattered and slid to a stop near him.
Roderick popped shots with Rex.
"Whoa!" Sun awkwardly bounced side to side and teetered and flailed his arms along the edge. "I got this!"
The empty clip pinged out.
Roderick cracked his whip. Sun put up his staff to block. The blade wrapped around it again. He reeled himself over, and they collided. Sun fell off. Roderick stumbled to keep his balance at the edge until Sun's tail coiled Roderick's left arm.
"Whatever you do, don't let go!" Sun hung upside-down. "I'm gonna climb up and kick you off. Cool?"
Roderick dropped into a deep squat, groaning to hold the weight of a fully grown man, and after taking a long look at the tail clinging to his metal arm, he smirked.
"Hope you got a good landing strategy." He opened the locks. "You'll need it."
"A landing wh—"
The prosthetic detached.
Sun gasped, scrambling to latch onto anything, and ultimately decided to summon more clones to throw him back up like before.
Roderick retrieved Tyrannus, held Sun dead in his sights, and squeezed the trigger.
The buzzer sounded, and the world returned.
Bodies rose from the stands, hollering at him while his face plastered every screen in the Colosseum, and Roderick soaked it in for everything it was worth.
-----
After meeting with his friends and getting praised, teased, and criticized (Weiss that jerk), Roderick went up to Reynold's luxury box to find a pair of meaty arms waiting for him.
"Come give your pal a hug!" Laurence snatched Roderick. "Have you been eating more like I told you? Wait till Yonah finds out he's getting bigger. She'll cry for days!"
Roderick struggled to breathe.
"Laurence, my brother's organ will come out like toothpaste if you keep that up," Reynold said nonchalantly from a couch. "Please don't."
"Oh, right." He let go. "Would be bad if I got myself into some more trouble."
Roderick massaged his sides and drank the air. "Larry, it's nice to see you, too. By the way, I think the soldiers are looking for you."
Laurence laughed even more.
Roderick sucked his lips. "For real?"
"Yes, actually." Reynold went over to the mini refrigerator behind the bar. "Ever since Laurence's misdemeanor, I've been transporting him back and forth from Amity Colosseum to our hotel in Vale."
"A handy thing, no?" Laurence nearly snapped Roderick's spine with a slap on the back. "Nobody will ever find out, and in case they do," he jerked a thumb at the sword, club, and cestus gloves piled underneath the coffee table, "Cerberus will take care of it."
Roderick paled. "You're gonna kill them?"
"Not kill, silly." He cracked his knuckles. "Just mercilessly beat them until they want to die! Big difference, see?"
Maybe it was for the best if nobody found Laurence.
"Enough about that." Reynold handed Roderick a can of soda. "It's time to celebrate."
Roderick bumped his can against Reynold's can and threw it down the hatch.
"By the way," Reynold said, "do you think there's any chance you could introduce me to Cinder?"
He choked and coughed up a storm.
"There's no particular reason." He went over to the window. "Just a word is enough."
Before Roderick could respond, the speakers boomed.
"Oh, look," Laurence jumped on the biggest couch, "the next match is about to start!"
Like he said, Oobleck and Port riled everyone up and got the randomization process going.
"And the next competitors will be," Port said as two familiar faces were selected, "Yang Xiao Long and Mercury Black!"
Of course, Roderick rooted for Yang the whole way through.
The both of them were evenly matched to say the least. Mercury was quick and agile enough to evade Yang's flurry of fists and bullets, and he retaliated with kicks that had guns built into his boots.
At one point, the Haven student got the upper hand, and Roderick's heart nearly lurched him out of his seat when Yang got pummeled by dozens of clouds made from wind Dust, dragging her Aura down to a percent shy of being eliminated.
However, to Roderick's joy, Yang activated her Semblance.
Mercury stood no chance against that freight train, and Yang bulldozed his Aura levels to zero and all the way to victory.
"Yeah!" Roderick fist pumped. "She did it!"
Reynold applauded. "Talk about a close call."
Strolling out of the arena, Yang passed by Mercury, but she suddenly turned back and did the worst thing anyone could've done.
She shot his leg.
The Colosseum went absolutely quiet, and Mercury laid writhing on the floor, screaming his lungs dry.
The boo's and curses that followed were deafening, and Yang stood there, lost and terrified as if she had no clue what happened.
Roderick struggled to breath, let alone think, and latched onto his brother for help.
Reynold and Laurence were at a loss themselves, utterly dumbstruck.
Atlesian soldiers and mechs stormed the platform, surrounding Yang with their rifles, and all Roderick could do was stand there and watch them take her away.