A/N: Please note that this is my very first fanfiction. I'm not sure where I stand as a writer (I wouldn't even call it a hobby of mine), but I felt inspired after reading many of the Bloodborne x RWBY crossovers on this site. I'm still waiting patiently for 'The Longest Hunt' by NaughtFiction to update! This story is something that has been brewing in my mind for awhile and if anyone is genuinely interested in my work, then it'll motivate me to continue! Of course, I would welcome criticism (and please let it be objective) and even suggestions as to where I should take the story or certain aspects you suggest I include.

Thanks, and please enjoy!

Chapter 1: Graves of the Forgotten

It was like any other mission for Team RWBY. They were sent to clear out some Grimm from part of the Emerald Forest and come back to Beacon. It was pretty much training, even though they were insisted to call it a mission — nothing out of the ordinary. That was until one of Weiss' glyphs left behind a crater in the ground. The rest of the team stared at their white-haired companion.

"Were you always able to make them that strong?" Blake asked cooly, but Weiss knew what she was actually saying. Why haven't you ever done that before when we needed it?

"No," she admitted, slightly annoyed. If she says yes — which was a lie — then her team would have a problem with that for obvious reasons. But the opposite meant that her glyphs aren't normally as strong as what was seen before them. "This is strange."

"Do you think you can do it again?" Ruby asked with hopefulness in her voice.

"No," Weiss sighed out heavily.

"Oh, whatever. So same old news then, who cares? We're doing great!" Yang cheered as she jumped down into the crater. Instead of the dull sound of feet hitting dirt, the rest of the team a sharp tang of metal followed by a small groan of pain.

"Yang, are you okay?!" Ruby called out to her sister as she peered down into the crater.

"Yeah, I'm fine." The yellow-haired brawler assured lazily, getting up and finally getting a good view of what she landed on. And to her and the rest of the team's surprise, it was a coffin. However, it was made of iron and bound in chains. The most bizarre feature was how oddly clean it was. Something like this that was clearly deep underground before they revealed it should be stained by the dirt and have indications of wear from rust. Yet the coffin was absolutely pristine, as if it had never seen a day outside.

"I—" Yang hesitated to continue her sentence, biting her lip as she looked up at her teammates.

"What's up?" Ruby asked curiously, unlike Weiss and Blake who already had an inkling of what she was going to say.

"Can we open it?"

"No," the rest of the team said in unison.

"Oh, c'mon! You too, sis'?" Yang huffed. She expected this response from Weiss and Blake, but from her own sister? The betrayal!

"Yang," Ruby began uncertainly. "That's — I don't know — disrespectful, don't you think?"

"This totally isn't normal! Look how deep this is! This thing," she bent down and hit it with her knuckle, the sound reverberating in the silence of the forest. "It's got to be magic or something!"

"We're not going to disturb someone's remains!" Weiss called to Yang.

"What if this was a crime?" Blake said in her usual calm tone. "Yang's right. No one is buried in the Emerald Forest. A murderer could have hid the body of his victim here." Still, if that was the case, it is strange that the criminal would go out of his way to bury the body in this metal coffin and bind it shut with chains. Her words sank in with the rest of the team at the sudden realization. One could almost hear the glass shattering in their minds.

"Then...Then I guess we should investigate, right?" Yang broke the silence with the same suggestion, although for an entirely different reason now.

They all looked to Ruby. Even though they were unconventional to say the least, they still respected their young leader's decisions. Ruby felt her heart rate speed up. What did they get themselves into? She wished that they didn't find it at all so they could continue their lives without another problem haunting them. Still, now that they found this coffin, she couldn't very well ignore it. What if it really was a crime?

She opened her mouth to say something before stopping. If this is a crime scene and they decided to open the coffin, wouldn't that be interfering with the crime scene?

"Maybe we should bring this up to the Headmaster?" Ruby finally suggested. It seemed like the safest bet. They had already gotten themselves in enough trouble. They probably shouldn't involve themselves in more.

Little did they know that Ozpin was watching the entire time. After all, he would not very well send the young huntsman and huntresses in training if he could not keep an eye on them for their safety. The Headmaster raised an eyebrow as he took a sip out of his ever-present mug. He had a similar thought as Blake, but that begged the question: Why is it so pristine? There is no available technology or type of metal that could withstand having been buried for that deep and that long, as there was no evidence of it having been buried recently. At the very least, it should have smears of dirt and the like. Despite the information he could gather at the moment, the coffin still appeared to be archaic — from an age long gone. Ozpin was a very knowledgeable man, but perhaps Oobleck would have more insight here. In the meantime, he continued to observe.

He had killed his mentor. At first, when Gehrman proposed to end the Good Hunter's life, he had felt anger. How dare he ask him of that? After everything he had discovered, he couldn't just walk away only for the Nightmare to continue once again.

However, after he ended his mentor's life, pulling the Blade of Mercy — a weapon left behind by another old hunter who he respected greatly — out of the First Hunter's body and killing the Great One that followed, he felt pity. Gehrman lived far too long of a life, watching over the Hunter's Dream as a slave to the Moon Presence. The First Hunter, who was forced to watch his successors in the Hunt go out to fight the never-ending Nightmare. He understood why Gehrman requested that of him. It was truly mercy. He did not wish for his burden to fall. He remembered all those nights his mentor had cried in his sleep, how he called out for help in the Dream where only the Good Hunter and the Doll resided.

He bent down and picked up the First Hunter's weapon; a masterpiece that defined the entire array of weapons crafted at the workshop. Its blade is forged with siderite, said to have fallen from the heavens.

Gehrman surely saw the hunt as a dirge of farewell, wishing only that his prey might rest in peace, never again to awaken to another harrowing nightmare.

"My condolences," the Good Hunter uttered, feeling guilty he even felt a semblance of ill intent for his mentor. After all, he knew Gehrman never had any for him.

The sounds of loud cracks entered his ears as he looked up to see the Dream collapsing around him. What would happen to him now? There were hunters before him who existed in the world who no longer Dream, like Eileen and Djura. However, he was not like them. He killed the Moon Presence that hosted the damnable Dream to end the cycle. The Good Hunter shook his head, finding that pondering the near future — if there was one for him — to be useless.

He looked down to his mentor's weapon and detached its long handle and folded it before putting it on his back, holding the now curved sword in his right hand, having stashed the Blade of Mercy on his belt. The Hunter's sharp gaze peered upon the beautiful field of flowers he stood in as it too began to fall apart into the unknown. For the first time since he began his work as a Hunter, he allowed himself to relax. He chuckled as he realized he was going to repeat Gehrman's last words.

"The Night and the Dream were long."

The rest of the Dream collapsed and everything he knew faded to black. Even now, when he did not know if he still existed in this world — or if the world did either — he could still hear an echo of the Doll's words.

Farewell, Good Hunter. May you find your worth in the waking world.

The Hunter's senses began to return to him except for his vision it seemed. Everything was as black as his most recent memory of the Dream falling apart. He heard a sharp knocking on what sounded like metal. He attempted to shift his body, only to find his space to be extremely limited. The Hunter quickly realized where he was. He was in one of Yharnam's numerous coffins. Was he believed to have fallen to the beasthood? He clearly had his wits about him. Perhaps he truly died, but the Great Ones were compassionate enough to give him a second chance at life.

There he went speculating again. The Hunter sighed. Just let me out of this blasted thing. The Great Ones themselves must have heard his request, because when he reached out to touch the surface in front of him, the face of the coffin actually blasted itself off.

When the coffin bursted open, breaking free from the iron chains that bound it, Yang jumped and returned to her companions' side. They all kept silent with their weapons ready as they eyed the coffin warily.

To their horror, a man slowly sat up from inside the coffin, holding onto a withered tricorne on his head. His face was covered by a dark grey bandana that matched the color scheme of the rest of his strange attire. The man before them showed no skin whatsoever except for his eyes.

Those eyes did not help ease the foreboding atmosphere and the tenseness that formed within each of Team RWBY's members. The man took care to take in his surroundings before finally, his eyes met theirs. His gaze immediately sent chills down their spines. The man's eyes were a crimson red and sharp, as if it could cut the very air between them. Even though they were the ones looking down at him, those piercing eyes made them feel so small. It was obvious what this was. He was the predator and they were naught but mere prey.

Ruby gulped. "V—Vampire," she whispered with certainty. Her team, particularly Weiss, wanted to disagree with her but were also at a loss for words. A man rises from a coffin with strangely red eyes. Maybe they needed cloves of garlic and wooden stakes to defend themselves after all.

The 'vampire' before them stood up and stepped out of the coffin, his eyes never leaving theirs. A few more moments passed as the two parties staring at each other before the expression in the man's eyes changed to quizzical.

"You all still have your wits about you?"

Team RWBY took side glances at each other before returning their full attention to the potentially dangerous man who remained standing in the ditch. "Yes?" Ruby let out apprehensively.

"Then calm yourselves. You lot appear to be hunters, albeit quite young. Youngest I have seen, anyway." The 'vampire' began to climb out of the ditch, still a ways from them as to not scare the young huntresses-in-training. Now that they were at the same level, he was able to take in more of their appearances as well as his surroundings. He was in a forest, that much was clear. However, it looked nothing like the Forbidden Woods where he slaughtered the Shadows of Yharnam. In his travels and his research, the Good Hunter never saw anything like this. And the attires of the girls in front of them were not proper for the Hunt.

Did I truly end it all?

No, that could not be. The weapons they carried appeared to be advanced forms of those he recognized from the Workshop. Those gauntlets of the yellow-haired girl reminded him of the Fist of Gratia, a chunk of iron fitted with finger holes. The hulking hunter woman Simple Gratia, ever hopeless when handling hunter firearms, preferred to knock the lights out of beasts with this hunk of iron, which incidentally caused heavy stagger. Gratia was a fearsome hunter, and to onlookers, her unrelenting pummeling appeared oddly heroic. No wonder this weapon later assumed her name. Unlike the simple chuck of iron, these offered the added protection of gauntlets and were stylized a bright yellow to match her color scheme.

Meanwhile, the weapon choice of the white-haired girl appeared to be a far more advanced version of the Reiterpallasch, the weapon wielded by the Knights of Cainhurst. It combined an elegant knight's sword with the peculiar firearm wielded by the Cainhurst order. The old nobles, long-time imbibers of blood, were no strangers to the sanguine plague, and the disposal of beasts was a discrete task left to their servants, or knights, as they were called for the sake of appearances. It seems since that the firearm design was removed for something more powerful, if the glowing guard was any indication.

As for the black-haired girl who donned a ribbon, he identified with her weapon the most. A jet black katana, similar in appearance to the saber-katana hybrid that was the Chikage, a foreign-made weapon wielded by the royal guards who protect Annalise, Queen of the Vilebloods at Cainhurst Castle. When the intricate, rippled engraving that spans the Chikage's blade is imbrued with blood, the sword sings in scarlet hues. That was his normal weapon of choice and he missed it dearly now that it was no longer at his side. Still, even that weapon seems outclassed in versatility in comparison to this girl's weapon. It appeared to have far too many components to simply be a katana. He knew it transformed, as any weapon from his travels did.

Lastly, the weapon of who may be the leader of the group, despite her anxiousness being outwardly shown. A large scythe, far larger than she should be capable of using at her size.

Gehrman would be proud to see the newly developed weapons of the Workshop.

Similar to the last weapon, it too had many components, indicating a complicated transformed form.

"Well, we're not actually fully fledged Huntresses yet," Ruby began, which confused the Good Hunter further. "We're huntresses-in-training." It was strange to Team RWBY that he couldn't figure that out from how young they were.

He didn't seem particularly old himself. He stood at 6 feet and an inch, similar in height to many of the Huntsman at Beacon. His stark white hair flowed out from under his hat, bangs parted for his eyes. Even though his eyes were the only part of him they could actually see, they gathered that he was probably in his early twenties when his expression relaxed. However, the hardened demeanor he had earlier gave an air of experience that was seldom seen, even amongst their own renowned Huntsman and Huntresses. In his right hand, he held a large curved sword that had both edges sharpened, a particularly strange aspect for a weapon meant to slash into foes. A beautifully engraved firearm was holstered on his belt, easily accessible by his left hand. Weiss questioned its design.

A flintlock pistol? Why put yourself at a disadvantage?

It was obvious that this firearm had no special features that would transform it into something else. On the same belt towards his right-hand side rested a short sword which also had a strange design.

Why is there a gap in the blade?

The most obvious feature that set him apart from everyone Team RWBY knew was his outfit. Just like his hat and mask, he sported a dark grey overcoat adorned with many emblems that they did not recognize.

"Training already? Do the beasts pose that much of a threat that children are picking up weapons now?" The Hunter feared the answer and it was just as he expected.

"Yeah," Ruby said, confused that he didn't know something that simple. Academies have been training many boys and girls their age to become Huntsman. "The Grimm have been around for as long as we can remember, so we have to fight."

"Grimm?" The man scoffed. "Is that what the Workshop has taken to calling the beasts now?" He shook his head.

All of Team RWBY frowned as they shared looks amongst themselves. What is this man talking about? What is the Workshop? Why does he call the Grimm /beasts/? Why does he insist on calling Huntsman hunters? What were his strange weapons? They had so many more questions, but it felt fitting to start with one.

"Who are you?" Blake let out in her usual tone, as if she had never lost her cool for even a moment.

"I'm a hunter." For reasons they did not understand, the man gestured towards his attire and particularly the many badges he wore. "That much should be obvious."

Except that it wasn't. Was something about what he was wearing significant? It looked incredibly old-fashioned. "No, what is your name?" Weiss asked, impatience creeping into her voice.

The Hunter furrowed his brow. His name? What was his name? Most of his memories from his life before waking up in Iosefka's Clinic have long since left him. Upon his initiation as a hunter, he was always referred to as 'Good Hunter' by the Doll and Gehrman. As for the others he met on his travels, they either expressed gratefulness or disdain for him, but never once was he asked of his name. There never seemed to be a need for one when the only task he needed to concern himself with was bringing an end to the Nightmare. However, if there is any time to come up with a name for himself, now seemed to be that time. He decided to call himself after a hunter who he pitied. He was one of the Old Hunters who lived a tragically long life unlike most in their line of work. A hunter with great skill who persevered until he found the bloodied corpse of his partner and best friend turned beast. A hunter who immediately went mad upon seeing the last thing that meant anything to him in their accursed world and at last gave in to the bloodlust. A hunter who he wished he got to know before he was forced to kill him with Eileen. The first of many mad hunters who he would then be forced to kill in both self defense and out of mercy.

"Call me Henryk." The Hunter spoke the name with confidence, feeling it was his duty to carry on the gallant hunter's legacy now that he willfully carries his name as he offered them the traditional hunter bow.

To the huntresses-in-training, the name was as old as the rest of his things seemed. "Well, I'm Ruby Rose, the leader of this team, Team RWBY." She felt silly saying it out loud.

Having your team named after yourself seems narcissistic. Of course, Henryk kept this to himself.

"I'm Weiss Schnee." The way she said her surname had indication that it carried weight.

"Blake Belladonna." She said as cooly as she did everything else. He could have sworn that he saw her ribbon twitch.

"'Sup, I'm Yang Xiao Long." The brawler said nonchalantly.

Henryk noticed that Blake's ribbon twitched again before she began to take glances at their surroundings. He frowned at the strange behavior before he began to hear movement. The footsteps were heavy against the forest floor and the pattern reminded him of the wolf beasts he encountered in his travels. "Scourge beasts…"

Team RWBY — sans Blake, who seemed to be the first among all of them to notice the coming threat — realized their predicament and prepared themselves. The Hunter unholstered the pistol as his predator-like gaze returned, eyeing their surroundings. "In-training. I hope you lot are trained enough."

"Don't worry, we're strong! We have your back." Ruby said cheerfully, having an odd sense of trust for the man who otherwise gave them no reason to other than not being hostile.

"Just keep yourselves alive." Henryk quickly turned to a beast he thought to be far more horrifying than from what he remembered. The disgusting fur that was usually matted by rotten blood was replaced by an abyssal black. He couldn't make out any features because of how dark they were. Another change was the apparent bone mask it wore. Just how much has changed? The Hunter gathered that it has been quite some time since the collapse of the Dream and since he walked the earth. Beasts do not evolve this quickly. How long has it been?

The beast jumped at him, but Henryk quickly drew his gun and fired. The bullet tore through its neck, stopping it in its tracks in front of him. He stashed the Burial Blade on his back before — to the horror of the students behind him — savagely plunging his hand into the beast. Henryk frowned. He did not feel any of its innards. He ripped his hand out as he normally would, attempting to tear out what he could. The beast fell at his feet unmoving, but there was no organs nor blood. He studied his gloved hand for a moment, it being as clean as it was when he woke up. Strange.

The Hunter turned to look at the children, who were now also fighting multiple creatures identical to the one he slaughtered. He was impressed with their teamwork, especially for how young they were. Despite the amount of movement between each of them, they were not making any blunders, never being in each other's way as they slaughtered numbers of the scourge. The lack of spoken words indicated that this level of cooperation came easily to them. It was routine. Henryk smiled to himself, though it was covered by his mask. A hunter is never alone.

He wanted to study their weapons for longer, seeing strange glyphs being formed at range by the rapier weapon held by Weiss, each glyph having a different effect depending on its color. Yang shot rounds out of her gauntlets that resembled that of the Workshop's blunderbusses. Blake's arsenal continuously changed between various forms which thoroughly impressed Henryk, having never seen a weapon with more than one transformation before. Ruby's scythe turned into a rifle, which reminded him of the Piercing Rifle of the old hunters, made by the Oto Workshop, the precursor to the workshop of the heretical Powder Kegs.

He heard a faint growl before quickstepping out of the way of the swipe of a large claw. The Hunter was quick to size up the new opponent. It was similar in appearance to the other beasts around them, but it was larger and far more adorned with bone armor. They began to circle each other slowly, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

"An Alpha Beowolf!" Blake called out to alert her other teammates, but all of them were busy fighting off the rest of the pack.

So these beasts are referred to as beowolves and the one in front of me was their alpha. Their intelligence has increased. Never have the scourge formed packs before. At the most there would be two or perhaps three that would remain within vicinity of each other, but never a pack. I will have to do more research soon.

The Alpha was the first to attack, taking another swipe at the man. That was your downfall, Henryk thought as he ducked underneath the attack and stepped forward, dragging the Burial Blade across its torso. The large beast wailed as it twisted its body to take another swing at the Hunter. As he dodged past the attack, he pulled the handle off of his back, unfolding it and attaching it to the blade. Henryk allowed the scythe to follow behind him as his momentum moved him forward, the blade meeting the neck of the Alpha. As soon as he felt resistance, he strengthened his grip around the weapon and pulled it forward, turning his body for added power. The Burial Blade easily cut into the beast and decapitated it, its head simply falling off as he held the weapon in front of him again. The Hunter turned and kicked the still standing body down.

Team RWBY was also done on their end and watched the spectacle that Henryk pulled off. They were all thoroughly impressed by the skill he displayed. So this was how a huntsman fought. He took out an Alpha with minimal effort, wasting absolutely no energy in the endeavor. With just a few swift and calculated movements, he defeated a Grimm that would even take the experienced far longer. However, beyond admiration, Ruby was visibly excited. Henryk, with his back still turned to them, stared down at the corpse as it began to disintegrate and eventually disappeared. Peculiar. He turned back to the team and was taken aback by the girl who was shaking with anticipation. "That was so cool!"

One anomaly after another, it seemed. A hunter's work has never been defined as 'cool' before. Cruel, on the other hand, has definitely been heard before. Djura would describe it as such.

"I've never met another scythe user before!" Ruby was nearly jumping and the rest of her teammates had mixed responses to her enthusiasm. Blake appeared to be indifferent, Yang seemed to expect this, and Weiss was shaking her head.

"Can I see your weapon?" Ruby asked with a grin.

Before he could respond, the familiar sound of a Bullhead suffused the air. At least, it was familiar to Team RWBY. Henryk took quick glances around him and saw nothing before looking back to the team who were looking up to the sky expectantly. "What is that infernal sound?"

"A bullhead." Yang said simply, but she raised an eyebrow at his lack of knowing something so simple. Who the hell is this guy?

The bullhead landed in a nearby clearing before two people climbed out of it. Team RWBY immediately recognized them as their very own Headmaster Ozpin and Professor Goodwitch. Henryk easily made them out to be authority figures as they simply had that air about them. Team RWBY straightening themselves affirmed his belief. Yet more people unafflicted by the scourge.

Ozpin and Glynda stopped in front of all of them and nodded to the children. "Team RWBY."

"Headmaster," they nodded in return, uncertain of what to say now. They knew why he was here and it wasn't for them. Ozpin looked to the Hunter and greeted him kindly as he rested both his hands on the cane set out in front of him. "Hello. Thank you for taking care of my students."

Henryk immediately recognized the cane as a weapon. The Workshop's own Threaded Cane was always a choice weapon for hunters on their duties. Sufficiently deadly as a rigid bladed cane, but also served as a whip when its blade was split into many. Concealing the weapon inside the cane and flogging the beasts with the whip was partly an act of ceremony, an attempt to demonstrate to oneself that the bloodlust of the hunt would never encroach upon the soul.

"No need to thank me. They took care of themselves." Henryk would not allow himself to take the credit the team earned. He slowly holstered his gun, not feeling any hostile intent from the two.

"Yes, Team RWBY is quite the skilled bunch, even among the others at my Academy. But, you did defeat that Alpha — quite easily might I add. Even though they are skilled, they are still training. If you were not there, this could have been very difficult for them." Ozpin smiled and glanced to the team again, giving them a small nod. They hated to admit it, but he was right.

"I have been watching you and Team RWBY since you rose from that coffin," Ozpin continued. "Which kingdom do you come from?" The Headmaster already knew the answer to this from what he could gather from everything so far.

"Yharnam."

The Headmaster nodded, expecting that answer as he heard it earlier. "I'm sorry, mister…"

"Henryk."

"Mister Henryk. I have never heard of Yharnam before. It does not exist on any map."

The Hunter actually took a step back in his surprise. Yharnam no longer exists? That could only mean it fell to beasts. Henryk took a moment for the new information to sink in before nodding and letting out a sigh. "That would make sense." He wanted to ask the man a question in return, but the Headmaster already began speaking again.

"Now, I would love to continue talking, but perhaps a change of location? Best that we leave here before any more Grimm appear."

There was that word again. Grimm. Henryk could ask more about these Grimm if he followed this man. The Hunter still felt apprehension, but he would like to think of himself as a good judge of character and he found himself to be surrounded by pleasant enough company. Far better than those he met on his travels, anyway. He nodded his agreement to the Headmaster who smiled once again before turning around, gesturing for all present to follow him to the metal contraption. "Then allow us to go to Beacon Academy."

Team RWBY was surprised at how easy and quick the whole interaction was. Henryk seemed scary, but he's actually been compliant and 'friendly' so far. The Hunter noticed that the blonde woman — who now followed behind Ozpin — that accompanied the Headmaster was far more tense than he was, appearing to be ready for combat at first notice. This could have went far, far worse.

"We're finally all done here!" Nora cheered, thrusting Magnhild into the air as they continued to walk through the Forever Fall.

Jaune laughed. "Yeah, I'm starving!"

"Pancakes!"

"It's almost time for dinner, Nora." Pyrrha said, though a smile remained on her face. She enjoyed times like this with her team.

"Your point?" Nora twisted her face and raised her free hand making a gesture that said the same thing.

"Her point being that there definitely aren't any pancakes in the cafeteria anymore." Ren said, the most comfortable with Nora's antics amongst Team JNPR.

"Whoa!" Nora shouted, raising both her arms up in there air, nearly throwing Magnhild as she did so. The rest of team wondered what was the next bizarre thought on her mind. "What is that!" The orange-haired girl pointed.

The rest of the team followed her finger and laid their eyes on a giant weapon made of stone, partially embedded into the ground. It must have been there for ages because the red moss of the Forever Fall was growing over it. For once, a legitimate cause to their eccentric teammate's outburst. They all approached the massive weapon with Nora bouncing in each step.

"What do you think it is?" Jaune asked.

Pyrrha bent down to get a better look at the enormous stone relic. Upon closer inspection, she saw just how intricate the design of the weapon was. The long handle that stuck into the air was connected to a bell-shaped bludgeon with various designs carved into it. Its most striking feature were the four gargoyle heads that had their mouths open in rage. It looked as if the weapon was carved out of a stone castle from an age long ago.

"I think it's supposed to be a hammer of sorts." Pyrrha decided, standing up and taking a step away from the artifact.

"A hammer?!" Nora grinned and rubbed her hands together. "I'm taking this baby home!"

Pyrrha shook her head. "I'm sure it's purely ceremonial. If it is as heavy as it looks, no one could possibly use that in a real fight."

"Watch me." Nora clapped her hands together one last time before gripping the handle tightly and pulling. They watched as she continued to struggle to pull the weapon out of the earth, listening to her groans of effort.

"Don't hurt yourself." Ren said, knowing that there was no way she would be able to pick it up.

As Nora continued her fruitless effort, Jaune's eyes widened as he looked past his struggling teammate. "Hey, guys…"

"What?" Pyrrha looked at him before following his gaze and also paused. Nora stopped and stepped away from the hammer to get a better look with the rest of them as did Ren.

"Oh…" The normally excitable girl bit her lip in guilt. Behind the hammer was a tombstone and behind that was a mound of ashes. "I—I didn't know…"

"It's okay, Nora." Ren reassured her, patting her shoulder. He knew how anxious she could get sometimes. "None of us knew."

The orange-haired girl nodded her head, but she obviously still felt bad for possibly disrespecting someone's grave.

"Why would someone be buried all the way out here?" Jaune asked as he slowly stepped around the burial site, careful not to disturb the ashes on the ground.

"Maybe that was their request. We could never know this person's significance. Does the grave have a name?" Pyrrha asked, following their team leader.

Jaune stared at the tombstone and let out a nervous laughter. "I don't know." The blonde-haired boy scratched his head.

"What do you mean you don't know? It's a yes or no question." Nora said back light-heartedly, recovering quickly as she followed the other two with Ren right next to her.

Team JNPR stared at the words carved into the tombstone before them. They now understood what Jaune meant. It wasn't a name on the grave, but a title. An extraordinarily imposing title at that. It read: Here Lies the Lord of Man. The cryptic text written underneath read: Who Will Rise Again.

She looked at the Kiln, feeling nothing but sorrow. She didn't want it to come to this, but she felt that it was for the best. The Ashen One knew she was about to commit numerous sins, but she recalled the kind words of everyone she had brought to the Firelink Shrine.

I consider myself your friend.

Thank you ever so much, sweet Champion. May your solemn duty conclude in triumph.

Do not be gone for long. What's a teacher without a pupil?

Promise to stay safe. It's been nice running our own little school.

Let the Lords' embers acknowledge thee as their true heir. A true lord, fit to link the fire.

Oh, are you lost on your journey? No matter; today's lost are conquerors tomorrow. It only demonstrates the making of a champion. And besides, whatever your choice...It will not change my sense of gratitude, or how I think of you.

The guilt came crashing down on her with the weight of the world behind it. "I'm so sorry. You all praise me too much." Tears welled up in her eyes. She quickly steeled herself, willing the tears away as she shook her head in defiance. No. This was for the best.

Heed my words, Unkindled One. Fear the fire. The home of pyromancy, Izalith, was scorched by the very fire it created. Undoubtedly, it was a flame of chaos, tangled by a witch's hand. But who's to say that this Bonfire's flame is any different.

Wise words, Cornyx. You were absolutely right. The Ashen One stared at the Kiln of the First Flame. She will not allow the cyclical Age of Fire to continue any longer to prolong the days of gods who were far from their times of glory. Each and every one of them were naught but husks of their once great selves. It was high time that they let the natural order of things take over. If there is to be any sense of balance in the world, then it was necessary to plunge it into an Age of Dark.

"Forgive me, friends." She reached out to the flame and absorbed it within herself. At first, she felt nothing, but suddenly the power surged inside of her. The Ashen One keeled over, clutching at her chest. It was only natural that all those reborn of the ash sought out embers, but this was far too much. The First Flame threatened to burn her entire being and return itself to the Kiln, rekindled.

No. She forced herself back up, determined in her resolve. She had already come this far. If she were to fall now, it would be an insult to her friends and herself. How could she reminisce the way she did and fall over now as if it didn't matter?

Eventually, the Fire calmed and became bearable as she finally turned to look at the arena full of ash and weapons. What was before her instead was a legion of hollows, all kneeling beside a a path that they left for her to walk between them. At the heads of either side were Yuria and her sister, who wore identical attires, their beaked masks faced down out of respect for their new ruler. The new Lord of Man began to walk the path available to her, the blackened sun looming behind her. No one was looking to see that she was hanging her head in shame.

O' gracious Lord of Hollows...

She tried to tune them out, but their deafening call pulled her back to reality.

Make Londor whole.

She can only hope that she was doing the right thing. The Age of Fire had to come an end. No one was being helped, not even the gods. This was the obvious solution.

Except that it wasn't. The Age of Dark was more harrowing than any of them could imagine, even the Sable Church of Londor itself. Hollows, the true form of man, were falling one-by-one to insanity. They all had sought out embers and now there were none. Many had nothing to live for; to strive for. It had driven them endlessly to wander, with not even a light to guide them. The Lord of Man watched over them for longer than she could even remember, only staying sane with hope in her heart that one day, they'll pull themselves together.

Eventually, she was forced to pick up her weapons again and fight. The Dark proved itself to be too much as the Abyss reached out to the poor hollows, offering them a Black Flame. The withered men and women greedily took it for themselves, but they were too weak to control it. The dark and cold flame rekindled them into ghastly creatures. They were unfit to even be called men anymore. They were beasts that she had never seen before.

The Lord of Men fought for ages until she was certain that she was the very last one who hadn't succumbed to this plague. She was exhausted, barely even able to lift her great-hammer. She attempted to swing it at another beasts, but the years of constant fighting had slowed her down considerably. The claw tore through her crumbling armor of the Lothric knights, ripping out a portion of her midsection. She fell to her knees, too tired to even feel pain, waiting for her end.

I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, she thought to anyone who might hear her thoughts in the world plunged into an Age of Dark.

"This is all your fault!" A mad hollow shouted at her as he rushed forward, an axe held high above his head.

I know.

The last thing she saw was the axe coming down to her face before everything abruptly turned to black.

An image of a woman appeared in the darkness, her features hidden by a thick robe.

Wake up, my Champion of Ash. Absolve yourself of your sins.

Velka?

The apparition began to fade away into the darkness once again.

No. No. No, come back. Come back. Come back! She thrust her hand out, hoping she could catch the Goddess of Sin.

Pyrrha was frowning at the mound of ash on the grave. The tombstone and the weapon had evidence of being extremely old, plant-life having taken to growing over them. It made the ash appear out of place, for Team JNPR could still feel the heat it emanated.

"Someone might have been here recently to place an offering." The red-haired warrior concluded. But if they burned it, how did the fire not spread to the rest of the Fall? Why have the ashes not been blown away?

"Let's pay our respect. It's the least we could do before we head back." Their blonde leader said, to which the rest of the team whole-heartedly agreed.

They began to pray for the deceased, hanging their heads, nearly holding their breaths. All was quiet and the world seemed to be equally as still until Ren noticed that the ashes oddly shifted. A broken gauntlet thrust out, with perfectly intact — albeit somewhat pale — skin of a hand visible in the areas where the metal had crumbled away.

"Zombie!" Nora screamed, the first to break the silence as she prepared Magnhild in a combat stance. The rest of the team followed suit as they backed away from the grave.

The hand continued to reach for the sky until an entire forearm was revealed. It dropped itself onto the ground before another arm shot out and did the same thing. A hooded head, face partially covered by a torn veil, rose out along with a torso, using its arms as support. It had managed to free its legs but instead of approaching them as Team JNPR expected, it leaned against the tombstone.

The figure raised a hand in front of its face, staring into the broken portions of the gauntlet at her skin. It was perfectly smooth, unlike how withered it was as she remembered.

"Why?" She let out, exasperated. "Why am I alive?!" She shouted, shaking in anger.

Now that they were not so hyper-ready to fight, Team JNPR took in more of the figure's appearance. What it wore was probably once shining silver armor, but now it was rusted and brittle. A light breeze could have destroyed it. Attached to the back was a long red cloak, embroidered with gold and connected to the matching hood. Despite its edges being ripped and there being small tears here and there, the cloak looked to have withstood the test of time. However, an entire portion of the figure's midsection was exposed, the armor having fallen away. The skin was pale showed firm muscles. Beyond that, they realized its feminine features. The figure was sobbing quietly, its face covered by its hands.

"A girl?" Jaune let out, puzzled, immediately letting down his guard.

Pyrrha was annoyed at this, obvious to the rest of the team except for Jaune. She quickly let it go as she sighed, trusting Jaune's judgement and lowering her guard as well. Ren followed suit, but Nora remained skeptical. She looked at the mysterious woman and back to them before cupping her hand over her mouth to whisper, "Guys, we shouldn't trust a zombie."

Jaune approached the girl with the rest of his team remaining behind him, still wary of what may happen. As his the sound of his footsteps got closer, the resurrected woman looked up at him, only the lower half of her face visible, her lips trembling. He froze, suddenly feeling timid. He couldn't make out her full appearance, but he got the feeling that she was beautiful. "H-Hi."

"Who are you?" She questioned, her voice quivering.

"My name is Jaune Arc. This is my team." The blonde gestured towards the three behind them, who all individually introduced themselves. "We're Team JNPR. And you're…the Lord of Man?"

She felt a lump in her throat. Lord of Man? She was a lord of nothing. Nothing remained of the world…Except that she was alive again. She no longer felt the effects of hollowing. The setting sun shone on her proved that they escaped the Age of Dark. The people in front of her were actually living humans who even went as far as showing sympathy for someone like her. Her name? It was seldom used, as she was frequently referred to as Unkindled, Ashen One, Champion of Ash; the titles continue. However, she did remember it and she ever told it to one person who asked. She wondered if the painting named after her still existed.

She let out a heavy sigh, shaking her head. "Please, call me Leo." The woman stood up, finally regaining her composure. Perhaps what she did truly was for the best, despite the suffering she initially experienced. What was the old saying? After a storm comes the calm. She couldn't remember where she heard that.

"Oh, uh, s-sure thing." Jaune suddenly became sheepish, looking away as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink. He stole a few glances back at her, each time quickly looking away. His red-haired partner did not appear pleased, but remained calm, Jaune oblivious to her feelings as usual.

The behavior confused Leo until she took a look at herself, the broken armor revealing much of her figure underneath. "Oh…Pardon me." She began taking off he"r armor, starting with her gauntlets, tossing them to the side. Pyrrha pulled Jaune away and spun him around to give the woman some privacy.

How considerate. Not like it really mattered, Leo commented internally as she removed the hood before carefully raising the cuirass off of her, also tossing it aside, her chest bare to the world. As soon as it hit the ground, the chest piece collapsed on itself. She removed the armor from her legs as she stretched out her naked body, being able to feel the sun on her skin for the first time.

It had been some time, so Nora thought she was done and turned her head only to see the woman going commando. The orange-haired girl quickly turned around again, shaking her head to her teammates. "Don't look!" She whispered.

Of course, Leo noticed all of this. What am I doing. This wasn't acceptable then, of course it wouldn't be now, she scolded herself before looking to the cloak that was riveted into the chest piece of her armor. She bent down and tore the cloak from the armor and wrapped herself in it, wearing the hood again, the veil falling over her eyes. "I'm decent...enough."

Team JNPR all turned around to see the young woman wearing the makeshift robe. "So," Nora began, her team feeling that she was going to say something unhelpful. They were correct. "You're not some kind of zombie are you?" This earned an elbow from Ren.

"What is a zombie?"

"Y'know, like undead and all, 'eat brains; that kind of thing."

"Nora," Ren said sternly. He had the most patience with her antics, but this was extremely rude, even coming from her.

Leo reached over her shoulder and felt around for the Dark Sigil, a black gaping hole in the flesh that resembled the brand of an Undead. The darkness of humanity seeped from this bottomless pitch-back hole, the gap filled by the accumulation of the curse. This Dark Sigil was never supposed to heal, but there was a tale told of a Fire Keeper who returned from the Abyss, and brought great comfort to a bearer of the curse. Yet she did not feel the Sigil and there was no Fire Keeper who helped her.

Velka.

Leo shook her head. "I'm very much alive." She decided to keep the rest of the information to herself. She has already experienced enough discrimination as unkindled. If she could avoid it for now, then she will. Suddenly, all Leo could feel was a strong discomfort within herself. She grabbed at the sensation in her abdomen, grimacing. Team JNPR watched the spectacle in silent confusion until they heard her stomach growl loudly.

"Hungry?" Jaune asked with a laugh.

Right. This is hunger. The recently resurrected human thought to herself. It had been so long since last felt this pain that she had all but forgotten. She still could have eaten if she chose to while she completed her quest, but it would have only tasted like ash to her unkindled tastebuds anyway. The young woman nodded to her company.

"You can eat pancakes with us!" Nora shouted enthusiastically, earning a collective sigh from her teammates yet again.

"As ridiculous as Nora is, she's right. Come back with us to Beacon. Right, leader?" Ren looked back to Jaune, who quickly nodded his head in agreement, but still wanted Pyrrha's opinion.

The red-headed warrior offered a warm smile and nodded her head, always trusting Jaune's judgement. She won't let her mild jealousy get in the way of saving a practically naked woman in the Forever Fall amongst Grimm.

Leo seemed to have been frozen for awhile. They stared at the only visible part of her face, her lips slowly curling into a bright smile. "Thank you." She did not understand some of the terms they used, but she understood what they were offering. She looked at her surroundings, long knowing that this place was not on any map she remembered.

However, this did not startle her. Time was such a convoluted concept in Lothric and she has seen many different ages because of it. Her eyes landed on the long stone handle that peeked out tall behind the tombstone. So, you have been by my side all this time? She offered a mental prayer for Eygon, who she knew left these for her, deciding that she was a better guardian to Irina than himself. You should have stayed, she thought, but doing so would do no good now. The young woman reached out and gripped the handle with a single hand before casually releasing it from the ground, turning it right-side-up and allowing the weapon to rest on her shoulder. Team JNPR had differing reactions from each other, but they all conveyed 'surprise.'

Leo stared at them in return before letting out a small sigh. "Excuse me, but about your offer…"

"Right, right, right." Jaune quickly composed himself before leading them towards the bullhead waiting for them. He got on with his team following behind him as well as a stranger to the pilot.

"Whoa, wait, who is this?" The pilot asked apprehensively. "Kids, you can't do this."

"She's a huntress with a broken scroll and lost contact with her team. We thought we'd take her to the Headmaster." Pyrrha half lied. There was no way this woman was a huntress, but they will talk to Ozpin as soon as they can.

There was a long pause before finally, "Alright, I'll give her clearance. Everyone strap in."

A/N: Wow, my main concern when I began writing was that it would not be long enough and suddenly I have over 8K in the very first chapter. Anyway, I hope that this chapter was okay and if anyone is interested in me continuing, please say so :) This was pretty fun and I have a lot of time on hand, so if this picks up, it'll be a blast.