Book II

Rage:

Sing, Goddess, of Pyrrha's rage,
Black and murderous, that cost the many
Incalculable pain, pitched countless souls
Of Heroes into the Void's dark,
And left their bodies to rot as feasts
For Beowolves and Nevermores, as God's will was done.

"Miss Nikos, you are under arrest for the murder of Jaune Arc."

"Excuse me?" Those words bounced off Pyrrha as she stared wide-eyed at the tall woman.

Said woman let out a slight sigh of annoyance before pulling out a tablet of some nature and pressing a few buttons on the screen. Immediately, a holographic projection was displayed in front of Pyrrha.

It took her a few moments to recognize exactly what she was seeing, but when she did it made her stomach curdle. The video feed was that of the Amity colosseum, moments after the stadium had been rocked by the explosion. A few keystrokes later and the feed was zoomed on him. Just looking at him made Pyrrha desperately wish that she'd stayed in bed.

Except, it didn't look like what Pyrrha remembered at all. Jaune wasn't pinned by the concrete slab, but was leaning heavily against a wall. Completely untouched. "B-But that's not right!" Pyrrha protested as her eyes darted between the projection and the woman, earning a disapproving glare from the officer as the projection was paused.

"Really? I can pull up a different angle from multiple cameras if you wish... except that's not why we are here." The feed was un-paused as Pyrrha watched. It wasn't a change in the video, but a sound. The sound that was familiar to her, even if it wasn't from the usual perspective.

Heels clicking to her own natural gait. Suddenly, Pyrrha knew exactly what this video was about, clutching Crocea Mors even tighter to her chest as she found it harder and harder to breathe.

The scene played out in a twisted version. When she finally saw herself on screen yell Jaune's name, there was no falling debris. Nothing. Only Jaune was standing exactly where Pyrrha had placed a protective shield. "No no no no no!" Emerald eyes squeezed shut as her body felt numb. This isn't real, this can't be real! When Pyrrha finally dared a peek, she saw something that burned into her mind, an image that would haunt her soul for the rest of her days.

One of the pieces of debris Pyrrha had used her semblance on was now impaling Jaune.

"No." It was a weak murmur as the tall teen's knees gave out as she fell limply the courtyard's ground, tears she thought had finally dried starting to wet her cheeks. "I… I don't believe it. I-I know what happened, that's not… t-that's not it…"

"We don't need you to believe it, Miss Nikos." The woman gave another soft sigh before continuing. "It's lucky we were able to find the footage at all; if they hadn't made the discovery in the ruins of the stadium, we would never have believed the witnesses that had been coming forth." She paused, the sounds of Pyrrha's sobs filling the silence. "Take her."

Yet the command never made it to Pyrrha's brain, her thoughts a cacophony of panic and anguish. Try as she might to un-see what had happened that day, every second of it had been burned into her brain. Every. Single. Second. That wasn't what happened! I didn't kill him! He was trapped, a-and I was going to save him! That has to be fake, it has to!

Pyrrha could dimly hear the footsteps get closer and closer to her as the heavy clanking of atlesian knights closed in around her. "Specialist Schnee, the suspect is armed, moving to disarm."

But Milo and Akoúo are back in the room, I- The moment the atlesian knight touched Crocea Mors it clicked in Pyrrha's head. They were going to take Crocea Mors away from Pyrrha.

They were going to take away one of the few things left Jaune had left her, muscle memory started to kick in out of desperation.

They were taking him away from her.

"NO!"

Muscles moved on instinct as the faintly familiar but foreign weight of the sword slid into her hand before the android's arm clanked against the ground. "You can't take him from me!"

"Suspect is hostile, open fire!"

They never stood a chance.

Crocea Mors' pale white blade swung in a blinding whirlwind, slicing through an Atlesian Knight like a hot knife through butter. Three of them were bisected before the rest could even pull the trigger.

This isn't real. That was the only conclusion that Pyrrha could draw as she felt herself robotically take apart the androids in front of her. I didn't kill Jaune, and I'm not fighting the Atlesian military. Yet as a bullet bounced off her aura - aura only mitigated damaged - Pyrrha could definitely feel the pain. This was not a dream.

The racket from dozens of automatic guns suddenly unloading whole clips at the whirling Mistralian was deafening. Muzzle flashes lit up the courtyard brighter than mid-summer fireworks as the onslaught was sustained for nearly a full minute.

To any outside onlooker, instead of the more likely sight of a redhead riddled with so many holes that she'd resemble Swiss cheese more than a human, there was a giant whirlwind of metal in her stead. A cylinder that exploded outwards as the bullets reversed their velocity and shot through their owners, spreading debris over the courtyard.

More androids and a paladin replaced the ranks of their fallen brethren as another tremendous din started up. This one of metal against metal started as half of the new androids in front of her fell apart, the screws and parts that held them apart ripping off before being pelted towards the remainder, including the paladin.

In a matter of moments, the platoon was reduced to twitching limbs and exposed circuit boards.

Perhaps the more surprising thing for Pyrrha was the fact that she didn't feel tired at all. In fact, she felt like she'd barely tapped into her aura reserves when a display like that should have made her feel utterly exhausted.

"I suppose that counts as competent these days." The white haired woman sighed as she cast a disappointing gaze on the broken remains of her forces before unsheathing an ornate saber. "You can still surrender, Miss Nikos. Lower your weapons, and I'll make sure you'll at least make it to trial. You have that on my honour as a Schnee."

"I... I didn't kill Jaune!" Pyrrha was filled with terror as fear shot through her; both for her actions and at the accusation, causing Pyrrha to slowly shake her head as her grip tightened on Crocea Mors. "I'm not giving you his weapon!"

"Fine." One moment the white haired woman was twenty feet away, the next, her weapon was whistling through the air, inches away from Pyrrha's face. "I'll take it from you."

Crocea Mors barely blocked the thin blade from a strike that would have taken out Pyrrha's eye as she started to backpedal. The Schnee followed hot on her heels, a horizontal slash slamming into Pyrrha's shield, the redhead's back step turning into a stumble.

"I'll only ask one more time. Surrender. Now." Pyrrha slowly pulled herself to her feet, the shield angled in front of her still. An expression of annoyance crossed Schnee's face. "So be it."

The white haired woman adopted a two handed stance only to pull a second, smaller saber out of the first.

Then she lunged.

It became immediately clear that Schnee had been holding back as the tip of her sword hit the shield head on… and pushed Pyrrha back.

What also was becoming clear as the offhand saber slammed into the shield was that this was a very different fighting style then what Pyrrha was used to. The one she had to fight with that is. The shield was nowhere near as easy to throw like a discus, such as she normally could with Akoúo. Nor was the sword anywhere near as light and as versatile as Milo.

Which was very bad considering that the white haired woman was just raining blow after blow with her dual sabers on the shield. All Pyrrha could do was shoulder the blows and wait for an opportunity to stab at her from behind the protective wall.

I… I just need to survive and this can all be sorted out. Fatigue from aura use started to hit; surprising considering how only now Pyrrha was starting to feel the strain as her thoughts frantically tried to sort themselves. Perhaps it was the sustained combat or just the overall stress from being accused of murdering her beloved, but the redhead's fear started to fade as old combat instincts took over.

Now! Dragging the heavy sword in an upward arc while altering the woman's sword arc, Pyrrha finally struck back. However, the Schnee formed a crisscross with her dual weapons, taking the brunt of the attack easily – using it to sail through the air onto a pillar, where a white rune of some kind started to glo-

Is she Weiss' family member? While it was true that Pyrrha was in no proper state of mind all things considering, it'd completely gone by her that the person who the Atlesian knights had called 'Specialist Schnee' looked a lot like Weiss until the telltale white glyph appeared under her. In fact, now that Pyrrha thought about it, the person across from her was probably Weiss' older sister, Winter. Ultimately it mattered very little, considering the circumstances.

Pyrrha sprinted forward in a charge before leaping, closing the gap between them. It was the only way to finally get out of playing defense. Feinting with the sword, the redhead slammed the shield into Winter's stomach, cerulean eyes widening in shock as she was flung off the high ground.

This time, the woman rebounded off the ground before Pyrrha could reach her, meeting the redhead's charge with one of her own. Pyrrha angled the sword to meet the first strike. Then the shield to meet the second. Already swinging the sword in a third strike. Dual diagonal sweeps met the strong horizontal slash and sparks went flying. The strength of the blows forced both of them back for a beat.

With a flick of her hand, glyphs formed around Pyrrha in a large circle. The next moment, Pyrrha's opponent was gone.

Instinctively holding up her shield, Pyrrha felt a pair of strikes rip at her from behind. Before she could even fully turn around, a flash of white went by and the air left her lungs as another pair of slashes slammed into her chest. Another painfully smacked into her left leg as she fell to one knee.

A glint caught her eye, and she spun the shield to her front. This time the pair of strikes rang out against the shield. Pivoting to where the white flash had gone, she swung quick and horizontal just in time to stop the blur from running her through; the twin sabers being knocked away by Crocea Mors.

"Your reaction time is impressive." Winter remarked as Pyrrha caught her breath. "But it won't save you from what you deserve."

"I DIDN'T KILL JAUNE!" Pyrrha screamed as she ran full tilt at the woman, anger welling up in her. I tried to save him!

Crocea Mors battered the sabers away like they were made out of paper before the redhead shoulder-checked Schnee into a pillar.

If Pyrrha's speed had been a hair faster, then the white haired woman would have caught the shield in the face as it slammed into the wall, creating a small crater instead of just a grazing cut. Slamming the sword into the ground where the Specialist had rolled off to, another crater appeared as she jumped out of the way.

The red veil of anger covered her vision as Pyrrha moved entirely on muscle memory. It was with little surprise that the woman standing before her could only dodge and parry the tournament winner as Pyrrha pushed her back. And back.

The white haired woman had no chance to even go on the offensive. Shield and sword hammered at her. Every time there was an opening, Pyrrha merely bent the saber away from her, completely ignoring defense. In effect, Pyrrha was untouchable.

At least she was. Pyrrha's sword stopped in midair, rebounding off a glyph and earning the redhead a steel toed kick to the chin. While Pyrrha reeled back from the force and pain of the hit, Winter took the chance to backpedal and summon another glyph.

Instead of another lunge, or some sort of speed increase, a massive glyph appeared beneath her, rapidly spinning faster and faster…

…and a small horde of ghostly beowolves appeared.

Pyrrha's stride didn't change as she tore into them, the snarl on her face only deepening with each summoned creature's death.

The best comparison to any onlooker was that of a meat grinder, where the pale white whirl of Crocea Mors swept away anything that got within two feet of Pyrrha. The charge forward slowed from a break neck speed, to a run, to a walk, before she stopped altogether. As the seconds ticked on, Pyrrha found herself being pushed back a step. And then another.

Individually, each one of the apparitions by themselves barely garnered a second glance, yet in greater numbers…

Pyrrha was losing ground.

In the corners of her eyes, she could see the rapidly growing number of summoned Grimm start to encircle her. Anger gave way to fear. I have to do something fast, or I'm going to die… this would be easier if I just had my own weapons- that's it!

Planting a foot on an approaching Beowulf, Pyrrha jumped backwards, using it like a spring board before reaching for her scroll and typing a command in. By the time she hit the ground, Pyrrha was being swarmed from all sides again, struggling to fight off the beowolves, but that had been enough.

The whistling in the air only took but a moment before the metal box nearly slammed into Winter, forcing her to jump out of the way. Within seconds, the doors opened and the weapons inside were encased with a black glow before flying to Pyrrha's hands.

In some ways, it was a comforting presence, like two old friends – friends that were currently a blur of red and gold. While Pyrrha could hold her own with Crocea Mors, with Milo and Akoúo she was no longer holding her own. Rather, she became the 'Invincible Girl'.

Now with her own actual weapons in hand, Crocea Mors was sheathed as the flow of the fight started to reverse. Pyrrha hacked through wave after wave of summoned Grimm with a cold kind of efficiency, closing in on the summoner.

…and then the waves stopped.

Emerald eyes blinked in surprise, focusing on the Specialist's infuriating smirk. Then there was a blinding light as a bright glyph began to spin. Even as Pyrrha started to dig her heels into a run, an enormous ghostly Nevermore blinked into existence.

There was no time to do much besides dive out of the way of its mouth before one of the Nevermore's wings rammed into her gut, both violently knocking the air out of her and taking Pyrrha with it into the sky.

Pyrrha's first instinct was to grip tightly onto the apparition's wing. However, the steel boot that came slamming into her forehead had other plans. With her grip loosening, emerald eyes darted to the increasingly distant ground.

"Surrender. Now!" The Specialist's composure had broken, her voice screaming over the howling wind and white hair flapping violently. "Why did you kill him?! Answer me!"

The accusation numbed the pain to her hands and only served to let a single sensation rise to the top out of her jumbled emotional state. Anger. The want to hurt someone for the mere sake of it. To inflict some misery on someone else.

That's why when the boot came down again, Pyrrha's hand had already let go, the redhead going into free fall for a brief moment before jumping off Akoúo in a front flip. For the briefest of moments, Pyrrha was greeted by the shocked face of her opponent before her heeled foot caught Winter in the gut.

Yet that didn't change the fact that the white haired woman was a trained huntress, and was upon Pyrrha in barely a second. The first saber caught against Milo's edge. The offhand saber came whistling through the air before ricocheting off Pyrrha's bracer.

In one fluid motion, the redhead's unarmed hand grabbed onto Winter's left arm and pulled the Specialist towards her. Pyrrha's circlet clad forehead crashing into the woman's bare face with a mighty crack.

As Pyrrha stared, with no small amount of satisfaction at the unfocused blue steel eyes, something changed. Perhaps because of the amount of aura Winter had been using, or simply because her focus was utterly broken, the summoned Nevermore was gone…

…and gravity took hold of the two, plummeting them into downtown Vale.

Then let me die now. I was no help
To him when he was killed out there. He died
Far from home, and he needed me to protect him.

Pyrrha woke up.

It was all just a dream… it was just a dream, I'm in the dorm room, everything is fine.

Emerald eyes cracked open before being blinded. Bright city lights greeted her, illuminating the darkness of night, and clearly showing that she was lying in a filthy alleyway.

Pyrrha's first instinct was to move, to get up and out of the garbage strewn dead end, but the moment she tried to move everything started to ache. Aura exhaustion. T-that means…

Barely forgotten emotions came flooding back along with the memories, overwhelming her in an instant, causing her to curl up into a ball and cry. That whole fight had been very, very real.

Why… why did they think I killed Jaune? I love him! I could… I could never have hurt him. The mere thought that she could have done it… Worse yet, what might have just been an misunderstanding had spiraled out of proportions since she had resisted arrest AND attacked the largest military in Remnant.

Pyrrha didn't know how long she laid, crying in the trash, clutching Crocea Mors. It felt like ages to her. But in time, all tears eventually dry, and she laid unmoving on the cold, hard ground. There was nothing to do.

I… I can't go back.

That thought brought new tears to her eyes. I can't go back to Ren and Nora… so what's the point? Pyrrha felt dead. There was nothing in her, no purpose, just nothingness in a husk. Pure apathy.

It was in this state that something she once heard floated through her head. Apathy is death, worse than death, because at least a rotting corpse feeds the beast and insects.

To move would be at least better than death; staying curled up in this alley was going to do no one any good, especially herself. It was a herculean effort to push herself to her feet, staggering against one side of the alleyway before trudging out of it, towards the neon lights of the city.

The city lights grew brighter and more intense before she found people. People gathered around one of the huge public screens dotted across the city. Instead of the usual advertisements for some product, it was turned to the news.

"…more in on the breaking story, the White Fang have claimed responsibility for the attack on Amity stadium, much to the shock of the world. Even more, it is believed that they were the ones engaged with the Atlesian forces and were directly responsible for the appearance of the blue Nevermore."

Why… why would anyone want that? The thought of trying to claim responsibility for the calamity was mindboggling to her – it felt like her heart was breaking all over again. "The disappearance of Miss Pyrrha Nikos during the battle has also prompted a press conference from General Ironwood, who has stated that-"

The screens flickered and went to static for a moment, an unearthly feedback sound ringing through the speakers as a White Fang symbol flashed across the screen.

"WE HAVE KILLED YOUR HERO, YOU WILL BE NEXT. EVERYONE WILL PAY FOR HUMANITY'S SINS."

The voice was an abomination to Pyrrha's ears as an image of Jaune covered in blood was superimposed behind the symbol.

As quickly as it happened, the image broke, returning to Lisa Lavender scrambling about, reassuring viewers that it wouldn't happen again… yet that was beyond Pyrrha's focus.

These… these things had taken credit for killing Jaune, and not only that, they sounded happy about… they were bragging about killing Pyrrha's beloved. They were threatening everyone else… everyone that Jaune had died protecting.

Where there had been apathetic emptiness, something filled Pyrrha's chest, a swell of emotion. Instead of sadness, or grief, or any of the number of things that Pyrrha had felt since her partner's death, an altogether new emotion took hold of her.

It was a blinding one that made her vision narrow into a tunnel; all the confusion, the fear, the anguish were focused into a single, all consuming, monomaniacal aspect.

Rage.

A mist of black grief enveloped Pyrrha.
She scooped up fistfuls of sunburst dust
And poured it on her head, fouling
Her beautiful face.

BETA & Editor: Super Saiyan Cyndaquil
Editor: Gorsouul
Editor: MartunaMajor

AU: That only took half a year.

I'm hoping to not take quite as long; both this chapter and the next two or so had issues with planning, which was the major reason all of this got held up for so long.

Acceptance should post shortly.

Thank you for reading, I hope everyone has a wonderful day!