I woke with my body heavy and my mind louder than it had any right to be.
For a few breaths, I didn't move. I let the ballroom's dim quiet press against me—sleeping bags, distant shuffling, the soft creak of Beacon settling like a living thing. If I stayed still long enough, maybe I'd wake up somewhere else.
But the air was wrong for a dream.
Too sharp. Too cold. Too *real*.
My throat tightened anyway.
Lucius…
The thought arrived like a bruise you only feel once you touch it. I rolled onto my side and stared at the floor, trying to swallow it back down, trying to keep the surface smooth.
It didn't hold.
Something hot slid down my cheek.
I lifted a hand, startled by the wetness, then more followed. Silent, relentless, humiliating.
Tears.
My chest hitched once, and that was all it took. The fragile thing I'd kept assembled, poise, logic, distance, began to crack along its seams.
"Pathetic," I whispered, though my voice didn't carry any bite. Just exhaustion.
I wiped my face hard with my sleeve, as if force could erase proof. It only smeared warmth across my skin.
I forced myself upright, feet finding the floor. The pendant at my neck, an amethyst, cold against my collarbone, shifted as I moved. I caught it in my fingers before it could swing.
A grounding point.
A reminder.
Not a fix.
I slipped out into the corridor before anyone could notice.
The hall was quieter than the ballroom, lit in pale stripes by early light through tall windows. The silence here wasn't comforting. It felt like a pause before something decided to move.
I leaned my shoulder against the wall and stared at nothing.
If only you were here.
Not to save me. Lucius would've laughed at that. He would've offered me an arm and a stupid comment, making the air feel less heavy.
Instead, I had this corridor, and my own breath, and a world that didn't include him at all.
"Are you alright?"
The voice was calm, steady enough that it didn't startle me so much as it caught me.
I looked up.
Vibrant pink eyes. Dark hair. A quiet stillness in the way he stood, like he was present without demanding space.
Ren.
I blinked once, slowly. "I… what?"
His gaze flicked to my face, then away, politely. "You're crying."
Heat rose in my cheeks. Instinct made me deny it.
"It's just—" I swallowed. "Allergies."
Ren didn't argue. He simply reached into a pocket and offered a small pack of tissues.
"Here."
I hesitated, then took them. My hands shook just enough to make me angry with myself.
"Thanks."
I dabbed at my face, careful, controlled, until the worst of it was gone. I exhaled and slid down the wall to sit, mostly because standing felt like pretending.
Ren sat beside me without crowding, leaving a respectful space between our shoulders.
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.
It shouldn't have helped. It did.
"Why aren't you… heading out?" I asked, voice rough.
"I'm waiting for Nora," he said. "She's in the restroom." A pause. "And… I didn't want to walk away."
There was no performance in it. No pity. Just a simple choice.
My fingers closed around the pendant again. "If you woke up somewhere you didn't understand," I said quietly, "and everything familiar was gone… what would you do?"
Ren's expression didn't change much, but something softened behind his eyes.
"I would look for the next thing I can control," he said. "My breathing. My steps. My decisions." He glanced at the tissues in my hand. "Small things become anchors."
Anchors.
I swallowed. "And if the person who used to be your anchor was… gone?"
Ren didn't rush an answer.
"I'm sorry," he said at last, simple and direct. "Loss doesn't become smaller just because the world is different."
The words landed cleanly. No speech. No philosophy. Just understanding.
My throat burned.
"Yeah," I murmured. "That's… accurate."
Ren nodded once, like that was enough.
Then, gently: "What's your name?"
"Kaiser," I said.
"Lie Ren," he replied with a small dip of his head. "It's good to meet you."
"It's good to meet you too."
He studied me for a heartbeat, not prying, just present. "If you want to say why you were crying… I'll listen. If not, I won't push."
I stared at the floor.
"I'm tired," I admitted. "And I miss someone I shouldn't be relying on anymore."
Ren's voice stayed quiet. "Missing someone isn't reliance. It's memory."
That made my chest tighten all over again.
Before I could respond, the hallway exploded with motion.
"REN!"
A girl with wild orange hair barreled toward us like gravity was optional. She skidded to a stop, bright-eyed and smiling like the world had never hurt her once in her life.
"Who's this?" she demanded, leaning in with zero concept of personal space.
Ren didn't flinch. "Nora. This is Kaiser."
"Kaiser!" she repeated as if tasting the name. "I'm Nora! Hi! Nice to meet you!"
"Nice to meet you," I said, and meant it, though her energy hit like a flashbang.
Nora's grin widened. "Any friend of Ren's is a friend of mine!"
"A friend," I echoed before I could stop myself.
Ren's mouth twitched. "You can interpret it that way."
Nora took that as permission to grab my arm and spin me—
The world lurched.
"Wait—" I tried.
Too late.
My stomach staged a rebellion. "I'm—gonna—"
Ren gently pried her away with practiced ease. "Nora."
"Oops!" she chirped, laughing. "Sorry! I got excited!"
I held my stomach, breathing through it. "That came across."
Ren's quiet chuckle surprised me.
"Initiation's soon," he said. "We should get to the lockers."
"YES!" Nora declared, hooking her arm around mine again—less violently this time. "Come on, Kaiser! Tell me everything!"
"Everything?" I repeated.
"Your story!" she said. "Why Beacon? Why Huntsman stuff? Do you have a cool weapon? Are you secretly famous? Do you like pancakes?"
"That's… a lot," I said.
"That's Nora," Ren replied.
We walked.
And for a few minutes, with Nora narrating the universe and Ren existing like a steady pulse beside her, the weight on my ribs loosened, not gone, not healed, just less crushing.
Still, when Nora asked, "So why'd you come to Beacon?" I felt my mind hesitate.
The truth was a wound.
So I reached for something close enough to wear like a mask.
"It's complicated," I said. "My parents… wanted it. They had expectations."
Nora slowed just a little, eyes turning curious rather than loud. "What did you want?"
The question landed harder than it should've.
"I don't know," I admitted. "I wanted them to be proud. I wanted to be… enough."
Ren's brows drew together, faintly. "Being a Huntsman is dangerous. Why would they force that?"
"I'm not here to follow a script," I said, and the words came out truer than I intended. "I'm here because I need to figure out who I am. Something that's mine."
Ren nodded once. "Trying counts."
"It does," I said.
And then the thought I didn't want crept in:
Even my lie is just my old life in different clothing.
---
The locker room was loud, metal clanging, voices overlapping, nerves disguised as jokes.
Ren and Nora peeled off toward their lockers.
"See you out there!" Nora called.
"Good luck," Ren added, and for some reason, that meant more than it should've.
I watched them go, then forced myself to breathe and focus.
Familiar faces gathered: Ruby, Weiss, Yang, Jaune, Pyrrha, people I'd once watched from behind glass.
People who were now… simply here.
I didn't have time to stare.
A voice behind me cut through the noise.
"Hey."
I turned.
Yang approached with her usual easy confidence, but her expression was more sincere than last night's heat.
Ruby trailed a step behind her, hands clasped in front like she wasn't sure whether to hide or help.
"I wanted to apologize," Yang said. "About last night."
"It's fine," I replied, and that wasn't a lie. "I could've explained sooner."
Yang rubbed the back of her neck. "Yeah. I… get protective. Sometimes too fast." She offered a hand. "Start over?"
I took it. "Sure. Kaiser."
Yang's grin returned in full. "Yang."
Ruby waved awkwardly. "Ruby Rose. Hi."
"It's nice to meet you both," I said, and felt the last of the tension fade like mist.
For a moment, it even felt… normal.
Then my eyes caught Pyrrha.
She stood with poised confidence that didn't feel arrogant, more like armor worn out of habit. People looked at her as if she were an answer rather than a person. She smiled anyway.
I understood that kind of cage.
I moved closer before I could talk myself out of it.
"Pyrrha Nikos," I said, and watched her blink in surprise. "It's an honor."
Her smile warmed. "You don't need to—"
"I do," I said, gently. "But… I also hope people let you breathe here."
Something flickered in her eyes, soft, grateful, and quickly hidden.
"Thank you," she said. "And you are?"
"Kaiser."
"I'm glad to meet you, Kaiser."
So was I.
And then the intercom blared, snapping the room into motion.
"All first-year students, report to Beacon Cliff for initiation."
The air changed instantly. The jokes thinned. The laughter sharpened into nerves.
I followed the tide out of the locker room with the rest of them.
---
Outside, Beacon's air tasted like salt and ozone, storm and sea braided together. A massive airship waited, low and humming, its engines a quiet threat.
We boarded.
Vale fell away beneath us as we lifted, shrinking into rooftops and roads like a map you could fold and hide.
I gripped the railing, knuckles white, and didn't let myself imagine Lucius standing beside me.
Take the step, I heard anyway.
The ship set down near the cliffside. Students filed out into the wind, which snapped at their coats and stole warmth from their skin.
We landed on a narrow ledge carved into the cliff face. Professor Glynda formed a line and shepherded us forward like sheep to a precipice.
The cliffside opened into a vast throat of sky below us, the drop looked endless, a grey maw that swallowed sound and made every heartbeat thunder in my ears.
Professor Glynda herded us onto a row of individual launch platforms: little platforms of metal, each set a hair's breadth from the void. The platforms hummed, stabilizers fluttering like insect wings.
Wind tore at my coat and snagged my hair into my mouth. It bit my cheeks raw until they stung.
I stepped onto my platform and felt the metal shiver underfoot as if it understood my smallness.
The cliff stretched on forever. Below, clouds churned like surf. Above, Beacon stood behind us, solid, ridiculous, patient. I drew one breath, steadying the pulse that had turned traitor in my throat.
Lucius's voice was a thin thread in my mind, easy and impossible: Take the step. Don't let the world decide for you.
I'd seen this scene before, countless times on screen, replaying it in my head. But standing here in the flesh, on top of these launchpads teetering at the edge of a cliff, it felt completely different.
The Emerald Forest stretched out before us like some wild, living thing. And we were about to be thrown straight into its jaws.
This wasn't just a test. It was the test. The kind that didn't just measure combat skills, but something more profound: instinct, resolve, adaptability. The type of trial that stripped you down to the core and demanded to know who you really were.
"For years, you have trained to become warriors," Ozpin began, his voice calm, calculated. "And today, your abilities will be evaluated in the Emerald Forest."
I swallowed hard. This was real. This was happening. And I wasn't sure if I was ready.
"Now, I'm sure many of you have heard rumors about the assignment of 'teams.' Well, allow us to put an end to your confusion. Each of you will be given teammates... today," Glynda added with her usual sharpness.
"Your teammates will be with you all the time at Beacon, so choose wisely. After landing, the first person you make eye contact with will be your partner for the next four years, head to the forest's northern end, facing any opposition. Destroy anything in your path. You will be monitored and graded, but instructors won't intervene.
You'll find an abandoned temple with several relics at the end of the path. Each pair must choose one and return to the top of the cliff. Your item and performance will be graded. Any questions?" Ozpin finished, his eyes scanning the group.
With our eyes fixed on the horizon, we braced ourselves for the rush of flight, ready to plunge into the unknown. My thoughts circled back to his words: "The first person you make eye contact with after landing will be your partner for the next four years."
The logic was simple, but the implications were a web of choices. Having a partner among the main cast would create connections that could be invaluable to me. Still, it would cause a butterfly effect that could alter the team dynamics in unforeseen ways. Was I doing this for them or myself?
One by one, students were launched from the pads, each with their landing strategy.
I was after Jaune and could hear him nervously asking about the landing procedures. Ozpin's blunt reply didn't ease his concerns. Watching Jaune launch into the air with his signature clumsiness was almost amusing, comforting, in a way.
People might find him annoying at first. But I knew better. His awkward self-esteem belied his more profound longing to be a hero. Whether it stemmed from his lineage of heroes or a genuine desire to protect others, I couldn't remember. Either way, I respec–
The launchpad jolted under my feet, and I was hurtling through the air. The force of the wind tore at my clothes, and my heart pounded as the cliff vanished beneath me.
Heights had never been my strong suit, and this... this was borderline death by design.
My stomach dropped, my lungs forgot how to work, and the cliff vanished behind me like it had never existed.
No Aura.
No weapon.
Just gravity and a forest rushing up too fast.
I forced my body to obey logic.
Loose limbs. Don't stiffen. Don't hit spine-first.
I aimed for branches, pain spread out was better than one clean end.
The canopy caught me like a violent hand.
Branches whipped my shoulder, ribs, thigh, impact after impact, tearing fabric, burning skin, knocking air from my lungs in brutal pieces.
Then the ground.
I hit hard, rolled, and stopped face down in damp leaves.
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
When air returned, it came as a wheeze.
I stayed still long enough to take inventory.
Nothing snapped.
That mattered.
I pushed onto my elbows, shaking, and spat dirt from my mouth. My shoulder throbbed. My ribs screamed every time I inhaled.
Alive.
Barely.
I got to my feet, using a tree for support, and stumbled forward.
The forest closed in, towering trunks, shadowed undergrowth, quiet that felt like being watched.
I took three steps.
A growl rolled through the trees.
Low.
Close.
I stopped breathing.
Leaves shifted to my left, not wind. Weight.
Then it stepped into view.
White bone mask.
Black fur.
Red eyes that didn't blink.
A Beowolf.
It didn't rush.
It studied me.
I took one slow step back.
It mirrored me.
Predator.
The next movement was mine, and that was my mistake.
I shifted my weight.
It lunged.
I dove sideways as claws split the air where my chest had been. Bark exploded behind me. Splinters cut across my cheek.
I hit the ground, rolled, and forced myself to my feet.
Run.
Branches whipped my face. Roots snagged my boots. The Beowolf tore through the brush behind me like the forest belonged to it.
I cut between two narrow trees.
It followed—
And slammed its skull against the trunk.
The impact cracked the wood.
It staggered.
Not stunned.
Angry.
It shook itself and charged again.
I grabbed a fallen branch and swung.
The wood snapped against its jaw and shattered in my hands.
Useless.
It swiped.
Pain ripped across my upper arm. Fabric tore. Warmth followed.
Blood.
I stumbled back, vision narrowing.
No weapon.
No aura.
No advantage.
The Beowolf lowered its body, muscles coiling.
I ran again, but my heel caught a root.
The ground hit me hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs.
The Beowolf leapt.
Time slowed.
I raised both arms out of pure refusal.
Something inside my chest answered.
A thin shimmer snapped into existence over my skin.
Not bright.
Not blazing.
Muted violet light, soft, almost translucent, laced with faint silver veins like cracks in glass.
The claws struck—
And slid.
The impact still drove me into the dirt, but the tearing pain never came.
The shimmer flickered violently, unstable.
The Beowolf landed, confused for half a heartbeat.
That half-second saved me.
I shoved forward with both palms against its chest.
The amethyst aura flared, silver threads flashing like lightning trapped beneath crystal.
The Grimm staggered back two steps.
It snarled, louder now.
And charged.
I ducked under its next swipe and felt claws rake across my back. This time, the aura thinned, not strong enough to fully absorb it.
Pain tore through me.
The shimmer dimmed.
It wasn't stable.
It wasn't trained.
It was instinct.
The Beowolf rammed into me.
We crashed through the underbrush together.
Its weight crushed the air from my lungs. Jaws snapped inches from my throat.
The aura flickered, silver veins pulsing erratically.
I could feel it draining.
If it failed—
Its teeth grazed my collarbone.
The aura sparked and held, but barely.
I slammed my knee upward into its abdomen.
It barely reacted.
I grabbed a fist-sized stone and drove it into the side of its mask.
Once.
Twice.
The third hit made it recoil, not hurt, just annoyed.
It swiped again.
This time I wasn't fast enough.
Claws clipped my thigh.
The aura flashed, absorbed most of it, but the force spun me sideways into a tree.
My head rang.
The shimmer dimmed further.
The Beowolf stalked toward me slowly.
Patient.
Confident.
It knew I was weakening.
My breathing grew ragged. My limbs felt heavy.
The aura hovered faintly over my skin, muted amethyst, thin as fog.
I didn't have the strength for another exchange like that.
Think.
It lunged again.
I didn't retreat.
I stepped forward.
Inside its reach.
Its claw came down—
I caught its forearm with both hands.
The aura flared, silver veins brightening violently as if stress fractured it.
The impact jolted through my bones.
My knees buckled, but I held.
For half a second.
Then I twisted.
Not strong enough to overpower.
Just enough to unbalance.
The Beowolf stumbled sideways.
I surged forward with everything left and drove my shoulder into its chest.
The aura erupted, not explosive, but sharp.
The violet deepened. The silver veins spread outward like a spiderweb, shattering across glass.
The contact sent a visible ripple through the air.
The Grimm reeled.
I didn't give it time.
I stepped in again, one clean punch to its mask.
The aura snapped outward in a concentrated burst.
The sound cracked like thin ice breaking.
The Beowolf staggered.
Its form began to destabilize.
It swiped one last time.
I leaned inside the motion and drove my fist into the center of its chest, pouring every flicker of silver-threaded violet into that strike.
For a heartbeat, the aura blazed, moonlight through fractured crystal.
Then—
The Beowolf unraveled.
Black smoke peeled from its limbs, dissolving into nothing.
Silence swallowed the forest.
I remained standing exactly two seconds longer than my body allowed.
Then my legs gave out.
I slid down the tree behind me, chest heaving, arm bleeding, back burning.
But beneath it all, a faint warmth pulsed under my skin, steadying, repairing in small increments.
Aura.
I pressed a hand to my mouth.
I was smiling.
That startled me more than the fight.
Not pride.
Not relief.
Something sharper.
Something electric.
It was excitement.
I'd almost died. Should've died. But that fight... it had pulled something from me I didn't know existed. And for the first time in a long time, I'd felt real. Unshackled. Present.
Alive.
I sat there for a moment, the silence of the forest rushing in. Not even the birds dared return yet. I should've been afraid. Should've been shaken.
Instead, my hands still buzzed, my heart still beat with a rhythm that whispered, You did it. I didn't care whether I had a screw loose in my head, because I realized something: for the first time, I felt like I belonged in this world.
Then reality crept back in.
The others. The test. The objective. How long had that fight taken? How far behind was I?
Damn! Damn! Damn!
I hope I'm not too late to meet the others, coming up to my feet, walking forward, eyes narrowing as sunlight filtered through the trees.
Still, a nagging thought tugged at me as I got back on my feet.
How long would it take me to catch up with the main cast, considering they could easily defeat a group of Beowolves even at the start of the story?
But I wasn't dead. And I had something now.
Not just Aura.
A reason I wasn't just trying to survive anymore.
I wanted to see what else the world had to offer for myself.