Chapter XXXIV: Remembrance
Part One: Echoes of the Past
Haven Academy - Morning
The morning sun cast long shadows across Haven Academy's grounds as Nova stood on one of the training platforms, his enhanced senses detecting the subtle wrongness that had been growing since their arrival. The academy looked peaceful—students moving between classes, instructors conducting lessons, the rhythms of academic life continuing as if Beacon's fall had never happened.
But his cosmic perception told a different story. Energy signatures were off. Too many people moving with military precision disguised as casual wandering. Dust signatures in places where no Dust should be. And beneath it all, a network of malevolent intent that spread through Haven like rot through timber.
"You feel it too," Ruby said, appearing beside him with the silent grace that had become natural since developing her Saiyan tail. The appendage swished behind her, no longer an awkward addition but an integrated part of her enhanced physiology.
Nova nodded grimly. "Salem's people aren't just infiltrating Haven—they're embedded throughout the entire structure. This isn't a recent corruption. It's been growing for years."
Ruby's silver-gold eyes swept across the academy grounds, her enhanced perception cataloging threats with efficiency that would have been impossible before their training. "Lionheart's testimony gave us names, but seeing the actual scope..."
"Is worse than we imagined," Nova completed. "The question is whether we can root out the corruption without triggering whatever endgame Salem has planned."
Behind them, Jaune emerged from the dormitory building they'd been assigned, Crocea Mors at his side and his bearing reflecting the maturity that had settled over him since Beacon's fall. The boy who had stumbled through his first year was gone, replaced by someone who understood that leadership often meant making decisions with incomplete information and living with the consequences.
"Qrow's meeting with Lionheart again," Jaune reported, his voice carrying the careful neutrality of someone delivering intelligence rather than opinion. "Apparently there's been another 'hunting team' that went missing during a routine Grimm suppression mission. That's the fourth one in as many weeks."
Nova's golden aura flickered involuntarily—not a loss of control but a conscious assessment of combat readiness. "Let me guess: all the missing teams were investigating areas near settlements that later reported increased Grimm activity."
"Exactly," Jaune confirmed. "It's the same pattern we identified yesterday. Teams get sent to investigate false alarms, disappear, and then actual Grimm attacks happen in the same areas days later."
Ruby's tail lashed with barely contained frustration. "They're using Huntsmen as bait. Drawing them out to isolated areas where Salem's people can eliminate them without witnesses, then using the resulting panic to justify moving more forces into position."
"And Lionheart has been coordinating the whole thing," Nora added, joining them with Magnhild resting across her shoulders. Her usual exuberance was muted by the grim reality of their situation. "Sending people he's supposed to protect into traps. How does someone fall that far?"
Ren appeared last, his expression thoughtful as he processed the tactical situation. "Fear is a powerful motivator. Lionheart believed—probably still believes—that cooperating with Salem is the only way to survive. That protecting himself means he might eventually be able to protect others."
"Cowardice dressed up as pragmatism," Nova said with uncharacteristic harshness. "And it's gotten good people killed."
The team stood in silence for a moment, each processing their own reactions to discovering that institutions they'd trusted had been compromised at the highest levels. If Haven's headmaster could be corrupted, what did that say about the stability of the other academies? Atlas? Shade?
"We need more information," Ruby finally decided, her voice carrying the authority of someone who had learned to channel silver-eyed power without losing herself to it. "Lionheart gave us names and organizational structure, but we don't know Salem's actual objective here. Haven's not Beacon—there's no Vytal Festival, no international gathering to disrupt."
"Unless that's not the point," Jaune suggested, his tactical thinking continuing to develop under pressure. "Beacon's fall was about spectacle—breaking a symbol, spreading fear, dividing the kingdoms. Haven's corruption might serve a different purpose."
Nova's enhanced perception suddenly spiked, detecting energy signatures that made his protective instincts surge. Three presences, approaching fast from the academy's main entrance. Not hostile, but powerful enough that identification was immediate even at this distance.
"We have visitors," he announced, his transformation beginning to manifest as golden energy flickered around him. "And they're not trying to hide what they are."
The Nikos Family Arrives
The visitors came into view moments later: a tall, statuesque woman with red hair swept into an elegant style, her bearing suggesting military background despite civilian dress. Beside her walked a man who moved with the controlled grace of a career Huntsman, his eyes constantly scanning for threats even in Haven's supposedly secure environment. And between them—
"Pyrrha," Ruby breathed, the name escaping before conscious thought.
But it wasn't Pyrrha. The resemblance was striking—the same red hair, the same athletic build, the same fundamental bone structure—but this young woman was older, perhaps nineteen or twenty. Her green eyes, when they swept across the gathered students, carried a weight of loss that transcended simple grief.
"Team RNJR," the woman said, her voice carrying the formal precision of someone used to addressing assemblies. "I am Althea Nikos. This is my husband, Cadmus. And this is our eldest daughter, Alkyone."
The revelation struck like a physical blow. Pyrrha had mentioned having family in Argus, but in the chaos of Beacon's fall and their subsequent journey, none of them had considered that Pyrrha's death would have shattered other lives beyond their immediate circle.
Alkyone's gaze settled on Jaune, and something complex flickered across her features—grief, curiosity, and perhaps recognition of someone her sister had spoken of. "You're Jaune Arc. Pyrrha's..." She hesitated, searching for the right word. "Partner."
Jaune's composure, so carefully maintained throughout their journey, cracked slightly. "I... yes. I was. I am so sorry for your loss. Pyrrha was—"
"My sister," Alkyone interrupted gently. "My little sister who was supposed to be safe at Beacon, learning to be a Huntress, not..." She stopped, clearly struggling with emotions that were still too raw for easy processing.
Althea Nikos placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder, a gesture of support that spoke to shared grief. "We received word that Professor Lionheart was investigating what happened at Beacon. We came to understand how our daughter died, and whether..." She paused, searching for words. "Whether her death meant something."
The question hung in the air, heavy with implications none of them wanted to address. How did you explain to grieving parents that their daughter had died fighting an ancient evil most of the world didn't know existed? That her sacrifice had bought seconds of time during an apocalyptic battle? That she had been brave and strong and everything a Huntress should be, but sometimes bravery wasn't enough?
Nova stepped forward, his golden aura dimming out of respect for the moment. "Pyrrha saved lives at Beacon. Including ours. She fought against someone far more powerful than anyone should have faced, and she did it knowing the odds were impossible. She was..."
"A hero," Ruby completed, her silver-gold eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "She was everything the stories say heroes should be—brave, skilled, selfless. And she died protecting people she'd never met from a threat most of them didn't even know existed."
Cadmus Nikos spoke for the first time, his voice rough with barely contained emotion. "Then why are we only learning about it now? Why was there no official report, no ceremony, no recognition of what she did?"
"Because the truth would cause panic," Ren explained with his characteristic analytical precision. "Beacon's fall was presented as a terrorist attack combined with Grimm incursion. Revealing that an ancient immortal evil orchestrated the entire event would destabilize kingdoms already on the edge of chaos."
"So Pyrrha becomes a footnote in someone else's tragedy," Alkyone said bitterly. "One more casualty in a disaster that was really about something else entirely."
"No," Jaune said with sudden intensity, his voice carrying a steel that hadn't been there at Beacon's start. "She becomes the reason we keep fighting. The standard we measure ourselves against. Every person we save, every threat we stop, every time we choose to stand against impossible odds—that's Pyrrha's legacy continuing through us."
He met Alkyone's gaze directly. "I train every morning using recordings she made for me. Combat instruction sessions she recorded because she believed I could be better than I was. I hear her voice teaching me, encouraging me, reminding me that improvement is possible if you're willing to work for it."
Jaune's hand went to Crocea Mors, the sword that had once been his family's legacy and was now also a reminder of Pyrrha's faith in him. "Your sister saw something in me that I didn't see in myself. She spent months making me into someone who could stand beside her rather than behind her. And when she died, she died believing that I—that all of us—would continue what she started."
Alkyone's composure finally broke, tears streaming down her face as the reality of her sister's death and legacy crashed over her simultaneously. Althea drew her close, and Cadmus stood protectively beside them both, a family united in grief but also in the need to understand.
"We want to know everything," Althea finally said, her formal precision cracking slightly. "How she spent her final months, what she accomplished, who she cared about. We need..." She stopped, struggling to articulate a need that transcended simple information. "We need to understand who our daughter became in her time away from us."
Nova glanced at Ruby, who nodded slightly. This wasn't a tactical situation or a combat challenge—this was human grief seeking human connection. And despite the cosmic powers they'd been granted, despite the training from actual Saiyans, some things remained fundamentally mortal in nature.
"Come with us," Ruby said gently. "We'll tell you everything we can. The training sessions, the missions, the person Pyrrha was when she wasn't being 'the invincible girl' everyone expected her to be."
As they led the Nikos family toward a more private area, Qrow emerged from Lionheart's office building, his expression grave. He noticed the group, recognized what was happening from years of experience with grieving families, and made a subtle gesture indicating he would brief them later.
The morning sun continued its rise over Haven Academy, illuminating grounds that looked peaceful but hid corruption spreading like cancer through Mistral's premiere institution. Somewhere in the shadows, Salem's agents watched and waited for the moment to strike. And in dimensions beyond normal perception, gods and Saiyans observed the scene with interest, evaluating whether their chosen champions could maintain their humanity even while wielding transcendent power.
Memories Shared
They gathered in an unused classroom that overlooked Haven's training grounds—a space similar enough to Beacon's facilities that memories came flooding back unbidden. Jaune stood near the window, struggling to find words to begin, while Ruby and the others arranged chairs for the Nikos family.
"Pyrrha joined our team during initiation," Jaune finally started, his voice careful and measured. "Not because she wanted a guaranteed strong partner—she was already famous, already 'the invincible girl' who could have chosen anyone. She chose me because..." He paused, still not entirely certain of the answer. "Because she saw potential where everyone else saw inadequacy."
Alkyone leaned forward, hungry for details about her sister's life at Beacon. "What was she like? Away from tournaments and cameras and expectations?"
"Lonely," Nora said with uncharacteristic gentleness. "Not in an obvious way, but you could tell. Everyone wanted to know 'Pyrrha Nikos the champion,' but hardly anyone wanted to know just Pyrrha."
"She'd study in the library until late," Ren added, his analytical mind recalling patterns. "Not because she struggled with coursework, but because the library was one of the few places where being famous didn't matter. Knowledge didn't care about your tournament record."
Ruby smiled at the memory. "She and I would sometimes train together early in the morning, before anyone else was up. She taught me techniques for close-quarters combat, and I'd help her work on her speed. We'd talk about everything except being Huntresses—just normal stuff like favorite foods, books we'd read, places we wanted to visit."
"She loved strawberry ice cream," Jaune said suddenly, the memory surfacing unbidden. "Specifically the kind with actual strawberry pieces in it, not just flavoring. We discovered it during a team outing to Vale. She ate two full bowls and was embarrassed about it until we pointed out that being a champion didn't mean she couldn't enjoy simple pleasures."
Althea's expression softened slightly. "We knew she felt pressured by her reputation. Her sponsors, the tournament circuit, the constant scrutiny. We tried to give her space to be herself, but..."
"But she was still 'Pyrrha Nikos' even at home," Alkyone finished. "The daughter who'd won tournaments since she was thirteen. The prodigy who made combat look effortless. The girl who couldn't admit weakness because everyone expected perfection."
"At Beacon, she found balance," Jaune said. "She was still an incredible fighter—probably the best in our year—but she could also be the person who helped me with homework, who laughed at Nora's jokes, who sat with Ruby talking about nothing important. She could just... be."
Nova, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke: "The night Beacon fell, Pyrrha made choices that defined who she really was beneath the fame and expectations. She faced impossible odds to buy time for evacuation. She fought knowing she probably wouldn't survive. And she did it because protecting others mattered more than protecting herself."
"She also tried to send me away," Jaune added, his voice rough. "Told me to go, to stay safe, because she knew how dangerous the situation was. But I couldn't... I wouldn't..."
He stopped, the memory of Pyrrha's death still too painful to articulate fully. Alkyone seemed to understand, her own eyes reflecting similar grief.
"Tell us about the end," Cadmus Nikos requested, his voice carrying the weight of a father who needed to understand how his daughter's story concluded. "Not the sanitized official version. The truth."
The team exchanged glances, silently deciding how much to reveal. Finally, Ruby took the burden of explanation: "Pyrrha fought Cinder Fall—a woman who had stolen the Fall Maiden's power and was using it to help orchestrate Beacon's destruction. It wasn't a fair fight. Cinder had magical abilities that transcended normal combat, and Pyrrha..."
"Fought anyway," Nova completed. "Because someone had to, and she refused to let evil win unopposed."
"She wounded Cinder," Jaune said with quiet pride. "Despite being outmatched, despite knowing she'd probably die, Pyrrha damaged someone who thought herself invincible. She proved that mortal courage could challenge transcendent evil."
Ren continued the narrative with clinical precision that somehow made it more rather than less impactful: "Pyrrha's semblance was polarity—magnetic manipulation. She used it to control the battlefield, to force Cinder into defensive positions, to create openings that shouldn't have existed. If she'd had more time, more support, she might have actually won."
"But she didn't have time," Ruby said softly. "Cinder killed her with an arrow through the heart. Quick, probably painless. And in dying, Pyrrha triggered my silver-eyed abilities—a power I didn't know I had. The light from that activation drove Cinder away, saved lives, bought time for evacuation."
She met Althea's gaze directly. "Your daughter's death wasn't meaningless. It was the catalyst that awakened powers capable of fighting Salem's forces. It showed us that courage and skill matter even against impossible odds. It gave us a standard to aspire to."
Alkyone was openly weeping now, her earlier composure completely shattered. "She died alone. Fighting a battle no one should have asked her to fight. And we weren't there. We didn't even know until days later when the official casualty lists were published."
"She wasn't alone," Jaune corrected gently. "I was there. I couldn't help—I wasn't strong enough, wasn't skilled enough, could only watch helplessly—but she wasn't alone. And in her final moments, she knew people cared about her as Pyrrha, not just as a champion."
He pulled out his scroll, the action careful and deliberate. "She left me training videos. Combat instruction recorded in case something happened to her. I watch them every morning. And sometimes, when I'm struggling with a technique or questioning whether I'm good enough... I hear her voice telling me the same thing she told me throughout our time together."
Jaune activated the recording, and Pyrrha's voice filled the classroom—warm, patient, encouraging: "I know this can be frustrating, and it can feel like so much effort to progress such a small amount, but I want you to know that I'm proud of you. I've never met someone so determined to better themselves."
The Nikos family listened in silence as their daughter and sister spoke from beyond death, offering encouragement to someone she'd cared about deeply. When the recording ended, Althea was crying openly, Cadmus's jaw was clenched with barely contained emotion, and Alkyone looked as if her heart was breaking all over again.
"She cared about you," Alkyone said to Jaune, the observation carrying layers of meaning. "Really cared. Not just as a teammate or training partner. The way she speaks in that recording..."
"I know," Jaune replied simply. "And I cared about her. Not the champion, not the famous Huntress. Just Pyrrha. The person who made me want to be better than I was."
Althea composed herself with visible effort. "Thank you. For telling us the truth. For honoring her memory by continuing to fight. For..." She stopped, searching for adequate words. "For making sure her death meant something beyond just another casualty statistic."
Nova's enhanced senses suddenly spiked, detecting a disturbance in the academy's energy patterns. His golden aura flared involuntarily as his combat instincts engaged. Ruby noticed immediately, her own silver-gold enhancement activating in response.
"Something's wrong," Nova announced, his voice cutting through the emotional atmosphere. "Multiple hostile signatures converging on Haven's main campus. Whatever Salem's been planning, it's happening now."
Part Two: Corruption Revealed
The classroom exploded into motion. Jaune's hand went to Crocea Mors, Nora grabbed Magnhild, Ren's StormFlower appeared in his hands with practiced efficiency. Ruby's transformation began—not just the cosmic enhancement she'd been granted, but the hybrid Great Ape power she'd learned to channel, her aura blazing with silver-gold energy threaded through with crimson.
"Mr. and Mrs. Nikos, Alkyone," Ruby said with commander authority that had developed through months of life-or-death situations, "you need to get to safety. Find Qrow Branwen—he should be near Lionheart's office. Tell him Salem's forces are attacking now."
But Cadmus Nikos was already moving, his Huntsman instincts overriding parental grief. "Althea, take Alkyone to the safe zones. I'm staying to help."
"Like hell you are," Alkyone declared, her own weapon—a spear eerily similar to Miló—materializing from what appeared to be a compression device. "Pyrrha died fighting. I'm not running while her teammates face the same enemy."
There was no time to argue. Nova's cosmic perception detected at least thirty hostile signatures moving through Haven's corridors, coordinating with military precision that suggested professional training rather than simple terrorism.
"They're herding students toward specific locations," Nova reported, his enhanced awareness cataloging threat vectors. "Setting up kill zones at major gathering points. This isn't just an attack—it's a massacre in preparation."
Ruby's silver-gold eyes swept across the academy grounds, her hybrid power allowing her to perceive threats through walls and across distances that should have been impossible. "The main auditorium, the training grounds, the dormitories—they've got teams positioned to trap people in each location."
"Then we split up," Jaune decided, his tactical training finally manifesting under pressure. "Ruby, Nova, you two can move fastest and hit hardest. Take the auditorium and training grounds—evacuate anyone you can, neutralize any threats you can't avoid."
He turned to Nora and Ren. "We'll handle the dormitories. Get students to the safe zones, establish defensive positions, coordinate with whatever security forces Haven still has that aren't compromised."
"What about us?" Cadmus asked, and despite the situation's urgency, there was no question in his voice—only readiness to act.
"You were Pyrrha's father," Jaune said with sudden insight. "That means you know how she thought, how she fought. Work with me. Help me honor her memory by saving the people she would have wanted to protect."
Something passed between them—understanding between two people bound by love for someone lost, united in determination that her death would not be repeated if they could prevent it.
"Move out!" Ruby commanded, and Team RNJR scattered with practiced efficiency, the Nikos family integrating seamlessly into their deployment despite never having trained together.
Haven's Auditorium
Ruby and Nova materialized outside Haven's main auditorium with speed that transcended normal human capability. Inside, through Ruby's enhanced perception, approximately two hundred students had gathered for what they thought was an emergency assembly called by Professor Lionheart.
It was a trap. Ruby could see the explosive charges positioned throughout the auditorium's support structure, the snipers positioned in elevated alcoves, the armed operatives disguised as security personnel moving into position to seal all exits.
"They're going to bring the building down," Ruby breathed, horror and fury warring in her voice. "Kill everyone inside and make it look like structural failure during the chaos."
Nova's transformation deepened, his golden aura blazing with controlled intensity that would have been impossible before Vegeta's training. "Can you freeze the explosives with your silver energy?"
"Maybe, but the snipers and operatives would still be threats. We need to—"
She stopped as cosmic awareness from their training kicked in. They didn't need to choose between saving people and fighting threats. They had developed the power and skill to do both simultaneously.
"You evacuate," Nova decided. "Your hybrid Great Ape form gives you speed plus the power to move large groups. I'll handle the hostile forces—Grade Two transformation should be enough to neutralize enhanced operatives without destroying the building."
Ruby nodded, and they moved as one. She blurred into the auditorium through a service entrance, her hybrid power allowing her to move faster than normal perception could track while maintaining enough control to avoid harming civilians. Students barely registered her presence before finding themselves relocated outside the building's danger zone—not roughly grabbed and thrown, but caught in fields of silver-gold energy that transported them to safety with impossible gentleness.
Meanwhile, Nova ascended to the auditorium's upper levels where the snipers had positioned themselves. His Grade Two transformation manifested smoothly—Vegeta's training had opened the necessary ki pathways, allowing him to access the enhanced power without the chaotic surge that had characterized his earlier attempts.
The first sniper never saw him coming. One moment, the operative was lining up a shot on fleeing students. The next, Nova's hand closed around the rifle barrel, cosmic-enhanced strength crumpling advanced Atlesian technology like paper.
"You can surrender," Nova offered, his voice carrying the absolute certainty of someone who knew his capabilities exceeded any conventional opposition. "Or I can ensure you never threaten innocent people again. Choose quickly."
The operative chose violence, dropping the rifle and drawing a combat knife that hummed with Dust enhancement. It was a fatal mistake. Nova moved with precision that made Vegeta's training evident—not overwhelming force but perfect economy of motion. The knife clattered to the ground, its wielder unconscious before understanding what had happened.
The remaining snipers received similar treatment. Nova moved through the auditorium's elevated positions like divine judgment, neutralizing threats with efficiency that transcended mere combat skill. This was application of power guided by wisdom—knowing when to use minimal force, when to intimidate rather than injure, when surgical precision served better than overwhelming might.
Below, Ruby completed the evacuation, her hybrid form allowing her to maintain Great Ape power levels while retaining human size and full consciousness. The last students were relocated just as the explosive charges began their detonation sequence—triggered remotely by someone who realized their plan was failing.
Ruby's silver-gold eyes blazed with crimson-tinged power as she extended her will over the explosives. Her silver-eyed heritage imposed order on chaos, freezing detonation sequences mid-activation. The explosive force that should have leveled the auditorium instead dissipated harmlessly, contained by silver energy that rewrote the rules of how Dust reactions functioned.
Nova landed beside her as the last operative fell unconscious. "Building secure. All hostiles neutralized. No casualties among students or faculty."
"Same," Ruby confirmed, her hybrid transformation making her voice resonate with harmonics that spoke to power barely contained. "But Nova, this was too coordinated. Too professional. These weren't random terrorists—they were military-grade operatives with advanced equipment and detailed intelligence about Haven's layout."
"Atlas," Nova said with sudden certainty. "These people had Atlesian training. Atlesian weapons. Atlesian tactical doctrine."
The implications were staggering. Salem's corruption hadn't just reached Haven's headmaster—it had penetrated Atlas's military infrastructure deeply enough to provide her with professional soldiers and advanced equipment.
"We need to find Lionheart," Ruby decided. "If Atlas is compromised, he might know how deep the corruption goes."
Meanwhile - The Training Grounds
Jaune led his portion of the team through Haven's training facilities, finding them filled with students who had been directed there by "helpful" security personnel. The area was designed for combat practice—reinforced structures, weapon storage, open sightlines. In other words, a perfect killing ground.
Nora was already moving through the crowd with her characteristic energy, somehow making evacuation seem like an exciting field trip rather than a life-or-death emergency. "Everyone stay calm and follow me! We're going to take a quick walk to somewhere much safer and definitely not currently targeted by bad guys!"
Ren coordinated with the handful of Haven security personnel who weren't compromised, establishing defensive positions while cataloging the actual threats. "Eight hostiles positioned in elevated locations. Advanced rifles, probably the same Atlesian equipment Ruby and Nova encountered. They're waiting for a signal before opening fire."
"Then we make sure they never get that signal," Cadmus Nikos said, his Huntsman experience evident in how quickly he assessed the tactical situation. "Alkyone and I can reach the elevated positions using my semblance. Mr. Ren, can you provide covering fire?"
Ren nodded, his StormFlower already configured for long-range suppression. "Jaune, get the students out. We'll handle the snipers."
Jaune wanted to argue—wanted to be the one facing danger rather than assigning it to others. But Pyrrha's training echoed in his mind: Leadership means making tactical decisions rather than emotional ones. Use your team's strengths instead of trying to do everything yourself.
"Do it," Jaune ordered. "Nora, with me. We're on evacuation and protection."
What followed was a masterclass in coordinated team tactics. Cadmus's semblance—enhanced physical capabilities triggered by emotional intensity—allowed him and Alkyone to reach sniper positions with impossible speed. They moved like ghosts, appearing behind operatives who never saw them coming.
Alkyone's spear work was eerily similar to Pyrrha's—the same flowing grace, the same tactical precision, the same ability to end fights before opponents realized they'd begun. Watching her fight, Jaune felt grief and pride warring in his chest. Pyrrha's legacy continued not just in her teammates but in her family.
Ren's covering fire prevented the operatives from coordinating, forcing them to focus on immediate threats rather than executing their planned massacre. His emotional control kept his aim steady even while processing the horror of what they'd narrowly prevented.
And Jaune, moving through the crowd with Nora's help, found himself naturally falling into leadership patterns Pyrrha had tried to teach him. Calm students with authoritative presence. Direct traffic efficiently. Identify those who needed extra assistance. Transform chaos into coordinated evacuation.
I'm using what she taught me, Jaune realized. Every lesson, every training session, every time she believed in me when I didn't believe in myself—it's all coming together now.
The last sniper fell just as the training grounds emptied. No casualties. No injuries beyond bruises from rushed evacuation. Another massacre prevented by people who had learned that power without purpose was meaningless.
"We need to regroup with Ruby and Nova," Jaune said, breathing heavily from exertion and adrenaline. "Figure out who's coordinating these attacks and end this before they try again."
Lionheart's Office - Confrontation
They converged on Lionheart's office to find Qrow already there, The Long Memory pressed against the headmaster's throat with deadly intent. Lionheart sat behind his desk, hands raised in surrender, his expression carrying the haunted look of someone whose cowardice had finally caught up with him.
"The attacks were my fault," Lionheart was saying as Team RNJR entered. "Salem told me to gather students in specific locations for 'safety protocols.' I didn't know—I swear I didn't know—she was planning to kill them all."
"You didn't want to know," Qrow corrected harshly. "That's different from not knowing. You suspected but chose ignorance because it was easier than resistance."
Ruby's hybrid form was still active, her silver-gold eyes blazing with power and righteous fury. "How many, Lionheart? How many Huntsmen teams did you send into traps? How many students did you mark for death? How many people trusted you and died because of that trust?"
Lionheart's composure shattered completely. "I was trying to survive! Salem is immortal, unkillable, backed by forces that transcend any opposition I could offer! What was I supposed to do—die heroically and accomplish nothing?"
"Yes," Nova said simply, his Grade Two transformation making his voice resonate with cosmic authority. "That's exactly what you were supposed to do. Die standing rather than live kneeling. Because every compromise you made, every betrayal you enabled, every person you sent to their death—those were choices that defined who you really are."
Alkyone stepped forward, her spear pointed at Lionheart with shaking hands. "You failed Pyrrha. She came to Haven's sister academy believing she'd be protected, that Huntsmen looked after each other. And instead, she walked into a trap orchestrated by people exactly like you—cowards who chose survival over integrity."
"Alkyone," Cadmus said gently, placing a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "He's not worth it."
But Alkyone shook him off, her grief and fury finally finding a target. "He IS worth it! Every corrupted headmaster, every compromised official, every person in power who chose convenience over courage—they're all responsible for what happened to Pyrrha!"
"You're right," Lionheart said quietly, and something in his voice suggested the words cost him deeply. "I am responsible. Not just for Pyrrha, but for every student who trusted me, every Huntsman I sent into danger, every person who believed Haven Academy stood for something more than one coward's desperate attempt to survive."
He looked up at Qrow, then at the assembled students, his expression carrying resignation that transcended fear. "I can give you Salem's network in Mistral. Every operative, every safe house, every planned attack. Not because I've suddenly found courage, but because I'm tired of being terrified. Let me do one right thing before this story ends."
"Why should we trust anything you say?" Ren asked, his analytical mind refusing to accept easy redemption.
"Because Salem will kill me anyway," Lionheart replied with bitter certainty. "I've failed her. Failed to kill the enhanced students, failed to maintain cover, failed to prevent Haven from becoming a battleground. She doesn't tolerate failure, and she certainly doesn't forgive betrayal—even betrayal of people already betraying everyone else."
Qrow lowered The Long Memory slightly. "Talk. Everything you know about Salem's operations, her goals, her agents. And if I sense even a hint of deception..."
"You'll kill me," Lionheart finished. "I know. And honestly? After what I've done, death might be mercy."
Intelligence Gathered
What followed was hours of debriefing as Lionheart revealed the full scope of Salem's infiltration of Mistral. The information was staggering in its implications:
Atlas's military had been penetrated at multiple levels, with entire Special Operations teams loyal to Salem rather than Ironwood. Not through ideological conversion but through pragmatic calculation—Salem offered power, resources, and the promise of survival in the chaos she was orchestrating.
Haven Academy's corruption ran deeper than just Lionheart. Multiple faculty members had been compromised, feeding intelligence about enhanced students to Salem's network. The missing Huntsman teams hadn't just been sent into traps—they'd been specifically selected for elimination because they possessed skills or knowledge that threatened Salem's plans.
The White Fang's splinter faction under Adam Taurus was planning major operations throughout Mistral, coordinated with Salem's overall strategy of destabilization. But there were hints that Adam's loyalty to Salem was more fragile than she realized—his personal agenda of Faunus supremacy didn't perfectly align with her goals of universal destruction.
And most disturbing: Salem had been using Haven as a testing ground for tactics specifically designed to counter cosmic enhancement. The attacks today hadn't been serious attempts to kill enhanced students—they'd been data gathering operations, probing for weaknesses that could be exploited in future engagements.
"She knows about the Saiyan training," Lionheart revealed, his voice hollow. "She doesn't understand what they are or why they're intervening, but she knows that enhanced students are receiving instruction that's making them far more dangerous than anticipated."
Nova and Ruby exchanged glances. If Salem knew about the training, she might try to interfere with it directly. Or worse—try to corrupt the training itself, turning improvement into vulnerability.
"What's her next move?" Qrow demanded. "She's lost Haven as a staging ground, her attack here failed, her network is compromised. What does she do now?"
Lionheart hesitated, genuine fear flickering across his features. "She moves on Atlas. Not with subtlety or infiltration—with overwhelming force. Salem believes that if she can crack
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Atlas's defenses, reveal Ironwood's secrets, expose the corruption she's already seeded in his military... the resulting chaos will make Beacon's fall look minor by comparison."
"Then we need to warn Ironwood," Ruby said immediately. "Get to Atlas, expose the corrupted elements in his forces, help fortify against whatever Salem's planning."
"There's a problem," Lionheart said quietly. "Salem has someone very close to Ironwood. Someone he trusts implicitly. I don't know who—that information was compartmentalized specifically so operatives like me couldn't expose it if captured."
The revelation sent chills through everyone present. If Salem had a deep-cover agent in Ironwood's inner circle, warning him might accomplish nothing except alerting that agent to adjust their plans.
"We'll figure it out," Jaune decided, his leadership continuing to develop under pressure. "Right now, we need to secure Haven, process the captured operatives, and coordinate with whatever legitimate authorities Mistral still has."
Qrow nodded approvingly. "I'll contact Ironwood through secure channels, see if we can arrange a meeting that doesn't expose us to whoever Salem has embedded in his operation. You all should—"
He stopped as cosmic presence suddenly flooded the room. Not hostile, but so overwhelmingly powerful that even non-enhanced individuals felt reality shift to accommodate it.
Goku, Vegeta, and Broly materialized in Lionheart's office with casual disregard for locked doors or physical barriers. Their presence made the considerable space feel cramped, as if the architecture itself was struggling to contain beings who transcended normal dimensional constraints.
"Good job today," Goku said with genuine warmth, looking at Ruby and Nova specifically. "You used your training well. Saved a lot of lives while maintaining control over your transformations. That's exactly what we've been trying to teach you."
Vegeta's assessment was more critical but no less approving: "Your tactical coordination was adequate. The hybrid Great Ape form performed better than expected. And the Grade Two transformation showed acceptable stability for a first real-world deployment."
Broly's attention was on the Nikos family, his legendary power sensing something in them that the others had missed. "You're Pyrrha Nikos's relatives. I can feel the echo of her in you—particularly in the daughter."
Alkyone stared at the massive Saiyan with wide eyes. "What... who are you?"
"Beings who are ensuring that enhanced students don't repeat your sister's fate," Broly replied gently. "Pyrrha died because she faced cosmic-level threats without cosmic-level power or training. Ruby and Nova won't make that mistake. We're making certain of it."
He studied Alkyone more intently, his perception detecting something that made him tilt his head thoughtfully. "You have potential. Latent capabilities that could be awakened with proper stimulus. Not Saiyan genetics—you're fully human—but something that resonates with your sister's memory."
"What are you suggesting?" Cadmus asked, his protective instincts warring with curiosity.
"That grief and determination can sometimes unlock abilities that normal humans aren't supposed to possess," Goku explained. "It's rare, but we've seen it before. People who love someone so deeply that they unconsciously tap into cosmic forces to honor that person's memory."
Vegeta cut to the practical implications: "We're offering training. Not Saiyan enhancement—you don't have the genetics for that. But combat instruction, tactical development, and guidance in channeling whatever latent potential you possess. Your sister would want you to survive what's coming. We can help ensure that happens."
Althea and Cadmus exchanged glances, a lifetime of partnership allowing silent communication. Finally, Althea spoke: "If it means honoring Pyrrha's memory by becoming strong enough to protect others... yes. Teach us."
"Then we'll add you to the training rotation," Broly decided. "Ruby, Nova—continue your development. Work on maintaining hybrid form for extended periods and achieving Grade Two transformation without conscious thought. We'll check in tomorrow."
The three Saiyans began to fade from normal perception, returning to dimensional observation. But Goku's voice lingered a moment longer: "Oh, and one more thing—Salem's planning something big for Atlas. Bigger than Haven, bigger than Beacon. Make sure you're ready."
Then they were gone, leaving the room feeling somehow emptier despite being just as crowded.
"Well," Qrow said into the silence, "I guess we're going to Atlas. Hope you all like cold weather and political intrigue."
Part Three: Paths Converge
Atlas Approach - Daikon's Team
While Haven dealt with its crisis, Daikon's team had reached the coordinates Winter Schnee had provided. The location was a maintenance access tunnel that connected to Atlas's primary Dust refinery—secure, monitored, but with specific blind spots that suggested Winter had intimate knowledge of her kingdom's defenses.
"This feels like a trap," Mercury observed, his assassin instincts refusing to accept that infiltration could be this straightforward.
"It's not a trap," Scarlett corrected, her enhanced senses detecting surveillance systems but no hostile intent behind them. "It's a calculated risk. Winter is gambling that her personal access codes and security clearance will get us past automated defenses, and that her reputation will handle any human guards we encounter."
Aiko's wolf ears twitched, picking up sounds beyond normal human range. "Someone's coming. Single person, moving quickly but not aggressively."
Winter Schnee appeared moments later, her Specialist uniform pristine despite having just navigated maintenance tunnels. Her resemblance to Weiss was striking—same white hair, same blue eyes, same fundamental features—but where Weiss carried idealism tempered by recent trauma, Winter radiated military discipline and pragmatic determination.
"You're the enhanced individuals," Winter stated, not quite a question. "The ones who helped during Beacon's fall and have been training with... something beyond normal Huntsman capabilities."
"Saiyans," Daikon corrected, seeing no point in deception with someone who was risking her career to help them. "We're being trained by actual Saiyans—warriors from beyond Remnant whose power transcends anything native to this world."
Winter processed this information with the efficiency of someone trained to adapt quickly to unexpected intelligence. "That explains the energy signatures our sensors have been detecting. Atlas's research division has been analyzing cosmic disturbances since Beacon, trying to understand what enhanced certain students."
"Your research division is probably compromised," Beat interjected. "Salem has penetrated Atlas's military. Any data they've gathered about cosmic enhancement has likely been passed to her."
Winter's expression hardened. "I suspected as much. Which is why this extraction needs to happen quietly and quickly. Weiss is being used as a propaganda tool by our father, but more concerning—there have been attempts to access her cosmic enhancement data from her time at Beacon."
"Someone wants to know if she's enhanced," Note concluded, the tactical implications obvious. "And if she is, whether that enhancement can be extracted, copied, or corrupted."
"Exactly," Winter confirmed. "Which is why she needs to be removed from Atlas before whoever's coordinating those attempts escalates from data gathering to direct action."
Neptune stepped forward, his concern for Weiss overriding tactical caution. "Is she okay? Have they hurt her?"
Winter's expression softened slightly. "Physically, she's fine. Emotionally and psychologically... our father has never been gentle with his children's development. Being trapped in the manor, forced to perform for his benefit, surrounded by people she can't trust—it's wearing on her."
"Then let's stop talking and start moving," Aiko declared, her tail swishing with barely contained energy. "What's the plan?"
Winter produced a data scroll. "Jacques is hosting a charity concert in three days—his attempt to restore the Schnee family's reputation after Beacon. Weiss will be performing. During the event, security will be focused on external threats and managing high-profile guests. That's our window."
"We extract her from a public event surrounded by Atlas's elite?" Mercury said skeptically. "That's audacious to the point of insanity."
"Which is why it might actually work," Scarlett assessed. "Everyone will expect any extraction attempt to be covert—sneaking into the manor, bypassing security, avoiding public attention. Doing it openly, during an event where Weiss has legitimate reason to be emotional or distressed, creates plausible cover."
Daikon studied the data scroll, his enhanced perception analyzing the manor's layout and security protocols. "We'll need perfect timing and multiple contingencies. But it's doable. Especially if we have inside assistance."
"You'll have it," Winter promised. "Klein, the family butler, is loyal to Weiss rather than Jacques. He can help position her for extraction. And I'll be at the event in my official capacity—if something goes wrong, I can provide cover or create diversions."
"What about after extraction?" Note asked pragmatically. "Atlas security will pursue. Your father will demand intervention. How do we get Weiss out of the kingdom without triggering an international incident?"
Winter smiled slightly. "That's where General Ironwood's... let's call it strategic ambiguity... becomes useful. He's aware I'm planning something, though not the specific details. If I present him with a fait accompli—Weiss Schnee voluntarily leaving Atlas in the company of fellow Beacon survivors—he can claim ignorance while quietly ensuring we're not pursued too aggressively."
"He's playing both sides," Mercury observed with professional appreciation. "Maintaining his alliance with Jacques publicly while privately undermining it. That's either brilliant or suicidal depending on how it plays out."
"Welcome to Atlas politics," Winter replied dryly. "Where everyone is maneuvering against everyone else, and the real skill is making sure your betrayals serve the greater good rather than just personal ambition."
She handed Daikon a set of access codes. "These will get you into the manor's service areas during the concert. Memorize them, then destroy the data—I can't have evidence of my involvement if this goes wrong."
"What about you?" Scarlett asked. "If we extract Weiss using your codes and assistance, Jacques will know you helped."
"Let him know," Winter said with quiet steel. "I'm tired of pretending that family loyalty means enabling his corruption. Weiss deserves better. Our family deserves better. And if helping her escape means burning bridges with Jacques... those are bridges that need burning."
The resolve in her voice reminded Daikon of why he'd agreed to this mission. Weiss Schnee might not be cosmically enhanced like Ruby or Nova, but she was still a friend, a teammate, someone who deserved protection rather than being used as a political asset.
"Three days," Daikon confirmed. "We'll be ready."
Meanwhile - The Schnee Manor
Weiss stood in her room, staring at her reflection in the full-length mirror. The dress she'd been given for the concert was beautiful—white and blue, perfectly tailored, designed to make her look like the ideal Schnee heiress. A symbol rather than a person.
She hated it.
"Miss Schnee?" Klein's voice came from the doorway, the butler carrying a tea service. "I thought you might appreciate something warm before tonight's final rehearsal."
Weiss accepted the cup gratefully, finding comfort in Klein's steady presence. He was one of the few people in the manor who treated her like a human being rather than an asset or disappointment.
"Klein," she said quietly, "if you had a chance to leave somewhere you were unhappy, but leaving would hurt people you care about... what would you do?"
Klein's eyes shifted through several colors as different aspects of his personality considered the question. Finally, they settled on yellow—his most genuine, caring aspect.
"I would remember, Miss Schnee, that people who truly care about you want you to be happy. And that sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is choose yourself over obligations that serve others' agendas rather than your own wellbeing."
Weiss met his gaze, understanding passing between them. "You know something."
"I know that your sister loves you," Klein replied carefully. "I know that friends you made at Beacon haven't forgotten you. And I know that sometimes, charity concerts provide unexpected opportunities for change."
He set down the tea service and turned to leave, but paused at the doorway. "Whatever happens in three days, Miss Schnee, know that some of us believe you deserve to make your own choices."
After he left, Weiss moved to her window, looking out over Atlas's gleaming cityscape. Somewhere out there, her friends from Beacon were fighting against forces that threatened to consume everything. Ruby with her silver eyes. Yang with her fierce determination. Blake with her quiet strength.
And here she was, trapped by family obligation and her father's machinations, unable to help, unable to even escape.
But that might be changing, she thought, Klein's words echoing in her mind. Three days. Something's happening in three days.
She just had to be ready for it.
Haven Academy - Evening
As darkness fell over Mistral, Team RNJR gathered with the Nikos family in their temporary quarters. The day's battles were over, the captured operatives were in custody, and Lionheart was under guard pending decisions about his fate.
But questions remained.
"Salem knows we're getting stronger," Ruby said, her hybrid form dismissed but the power still thrumming beneath her surface. "She knows about Saiyan training. She's planning something for Atlas. How do we stay ahead of someone who's been planning for centuries?"
"By being unpredictable," Nova suggested. "Salem's strategies assume we'll act according to patterns—that enhanced students will make certain choices, that fear will drive specific responses, that power will corrupt inevitably. We prove those assumptions wrong."
Jaune looked at Pyrrha's training videos on his scroll, then at Alkyone, who sat nearby sharpening her spear with practiced movements. "We also remember what we're fighting for. Not abstract concepts like peace or justice, but actual people. Friends, family, the next generation that deserves a world without ancient evils trying to destroy it."
Alkyone met his gaze. "Pyrrha believed that, didn't she? That protecting people mattered more than personal safety."
"She lived it," Jaune confirmed. "Every day, every decision, every action. And she made me believe it too. Made all of us believe it."
Nora, unusually quiet throughout the discussion, finally spoke up: "So we go to Atlas. We help Daikon's team extract Weiss. We expose Salem's infiltration of Ironwood's military. And we prepare for whatever she's planning next."
"While continuing our training," Ren added. "Power without skill is meaningless. Skill without power is insufficient. We need both to survive what's coming."
The conversation continued late into the night, plans forming and reforming as they considered contingencies and possibilities. The Nikos family contributed their own perspectives—Althea's strategic thinking, Cadmus's Huntsman experience, Alkyone's intimate knowledge of how Pyrrha had approached combat and tactics.
And through it all, in dimensions beyond normal perception, gods and Saiyans watched with interest. The cosmic evaluation continued, the stakes escalating, the potential outcomes becoming increasingly significant.
Remnant's enhanced warriors were growing stronger, wiser, more capable of facing transcendent threats. But Salem was adapting too, her ancient intelligence finding new strategies to counter cosmic enhancement.
The question remained: would power and wisdom be enough to overcome millennia of accumulated malice?
The answer would be written in battles yet to come, in choices yet to be made, in moments where courage and conviction would be tested against forces that had destroyed civilizations since before recorded history.
But for now, in this moment, they had survived. Saved lives. Proven that enhancement could be used to protect rather than destroy. Honored the memory of someone who had believed in them before they believed in themselves.
"To Pyrrha," Jaune said quietly, raising his cup in salute.
"To Pyrrha," the others echoed, and for a moment, it felt as if she was there with them—not in body, but in spirit, in memory, in the continuing legacy of someone who had chosen to be a hero when heroism was needed most.
The night deepened over Haven Academy, carrying with it the promise of trials ahead and the hope that remembrance could become resolve, that grief could become strength, that loss could transform into determination never to fail again.
The story continued, and the gods watched to see how it would end.
The pieces are moving. Enhanced warriors head toward Atlas. Salem's plans approach their culmination. And in three days, a charity concert will become the catalyst for events that reshape kingdoms and test whether cosmic enhancement can truly create guardians worthy of the power they've been granted.
To Be Continued in Chapter XXXV: Atlas Bound