The world itself was heaving. Her vision was clouded with black that rose from nothing. Everything around her was swimming, dancing, and twirling in one massive and sickening display of dizziness. Every color was twenty-times more vibrant than it had any right to be, and each one burrowed through her eyes and into her brain like drills in a dust mine.

She crumpled, her rapier's tip pricking the ground behind her as the swirling earth rushed to meet her face. Their meeting was delayed however, delayed by the leather clad hands that somehow were stationary and solid on the mass of writhing green below her.

Her head was pounding like the drums that used to accompany her voice so long ago, each beat shattering her thoughts with a pain and sickness that resonated through her body. Her stomach had had enough.

Bile and acid ate away at her throat in an instant, her lunch rocketing up and out in a flurry of green much too dark to be the earth. Her arms shook, and the taste wouldn't leave her mouth. Bile and field jerky. The world kept spinning, more bile rose, and her body shook for the second time, but this time nothing but acid came up. She would gag if she wasn't vomiting.

Her arms were trembling, her eyes were screwed shut, and her face was twisted into a grimace that dripped bile.

Funnily enough, the grass - tinged as it was with vomit that slid between her fingers - was stationary. The earth it grew on not spinning even slightly.

Breathe. Deep breaths. Get your heart rate down, reign in your emotions.

Her eyes cracked open, and the world did not swirl.

She leaned back on her haunches, head pounding and hand slipping instinctively to the comforting steel of Myrtenaster. Fifteen meters to woods, no signs of Grimm, no attackers. Lucky. Would be dead otherwise.

It was stupid of her, getting caught in the open like this, vomitting like her air sick ass of a partner - wait. Where is he?

Yet another scan proved that she was alone, every other patch of grass upright and undisturbed, that infuriating dunce nowhere to be found. There were no boots, no burns, no evidence of anyone being here for years. Except her.

"Jaune?" she rose to one knee, eyes swinging across the clearing as she did. "Jaune?" Her voice reverberated off the leaves, an endless chorus of his name through the rustle of green.

"Jaune?!" Her voice cracked ever so slightly, hand tightening on Myrtenaster as she whirled around on her feet. You're panicking. "Jaune?!" Myrtenaster hissed against its sheath as she brought it to bear. Calm. You need to be calm. How was she supposed to be calm?! That-that idiot was right behind her not five seconds ago, trudging through the wasteland of - she staggered, the air torn from her lungs - Vacuo.

Since when did Vacuo have-have-have forests?!

Her mouth moved dumbly, but no noise came.

Where was she?

Dilated eyes scanned the forest a third time, willing it to twist back into soot stained sandstone and a sea of pollution, but the leaves just rustled, the birds just chirped, and the squirrels just tittered in defiance.

Eyes of ice chips slammed shut as grass crunched beneath her, Myrtenaster digging into the ground as she leant on it for support. The last thing she remembered was escorting a group of scientists and archaeologists to some Vacuan ruins with Jaune. She'd been ranting at him about how just because his new hoodie breathed didn't make it suitable desert clothing. He'd just smiled that maddeningly disarming smile, and retorted that her attitude or her ice Dust would have to keep him cool. Then...then...there was nothing. It was simply the smile, then the sick, and now she was here.

How? Why? Where? The same questions shot through her mind in a flurry of disbelief, befuddlement, and sheer panic. She was at a loss.

This does not befit you, her mind chided. You are better than this, deep breaths. Reign yourself in.

One breath and closed eyes, exhale, second breath, exhale. Back straight and eyes opening she took another, deeper breath, let it fill her, and exhaled as slowly as possible.

You are a Schnee.

A steely calm crushed the panic she had felt underfoot, and, without its cloud, her options became much clearer, strategies more apparent. As they always did when panic was removed.

A hand engulfed in wintery blue combat gloves slid into her right pocket, struggling for half a second to get a proper grip on the slick, weathered steel of her scroll. She extended it with a click, noting all the nicks and scratches with a frown. 19. Precisely the amount as last time. She nodded to herself, at least something was as it should be.

White digits glowed steadily in the glass of the screen: 6:48pm. Glacial eyes flicked up to the Sun, noting its position before concluding that the time was in fact likely for...well, wherever it is she was.

It was also the beginning of the weekend (though she had no way of verifying that) in the year - huh. Odd. She checked the scroll for scratches and nicks again, coming back with the same 19 imperfections. But, well, none of them had caused any performance issues before, and she didn't get any stomach fluid on the device, so why was it acting up now?

Attempting to decipher inconsequential technical glitches in potentially hostile territory. She huffed at herself, what am I? An amateur?

She straightened her back and sighed, shoving the immense anxiety over her partner's absence to the recesses of her mind. Jaune was a perfectly capable Huntsman, one of the best alive, she knew that. Still manages to hurt himself getting out of bed though, she thought, a fond smile growing on her face. He'd be alright.

If he wasn't, she'd flay him.

"No way to go but forward," she muttered to the crinkling leaves before her. The beating sun fading to a sprinkled caress as the leaves swallowed her. The forest was much like any other, and yet she still found it beautiful, if a little chaotic. Birds and leaves tussled above her, while animals on the floor kicked and dashed through the brush, each blissfully unperturbed by the possibility of getting disemboweled by the creatures of Grimm.

Though, she supposed, practically everything else will kill them, so maybe that's only fair.

Schnee minds do not wander, they are better than that, but they do analyze, assess, and act. One of the few sayings Father had that was appropriate. Yang, and later Nora, had always teased her about it, but that didn't make it any less true. She shook her head, scolding herself inwardly for letting her thoughts slip away from the situation at hand.

It was...an interesting one, that was for sure. She didn't have much experience with waking up and not knowing how she had gotten there - that had been Yang's area of expertise - though she did have some. An image of Ren and Nora's wedding leapt to mind, and her escapade at the Drunken Noodle, as everyone had come to call it, much to her annoyance. Though, waking up in a strange noodle shop after a wedding, and waking up in the middle of a forest after a mission in Vacuo were somewhat different. Jaune would've given her hell for that understatement.

Try as she might, though, she could still remember nothing more about how she came to be here, and, while her head hurt, it wasn't the pounding of a hangover.

The more she walked and thought the more her brain slammed against a brick wall again and again. Her steps became stomps, and the green around her seemed to flinch every time her footfalls sounded.

It just didn't make sense. What happened in Vacuo? How did she get here? Where even was here? A frown of worry split her face and wormed its way into her gut. Where was Jaune? Was he back in Vacuo? Did he know what happened? Was he hurt? Was he ali-no. She stopped dead, eyes screwed shut. He must be alive. I will not consider otherwise.

He was her partner, and she his. Each were all the other had left.

He won't die on me. Not while I still breathe.

That didn't mean she wouldn't give him the verbal thrashing of a lifetime should he be hurt, and wouldn't that be just like him? "Caught in a strange new place?" she mocked, her voice dropping several octaves to imitate his, "I should go out and find new Grimm all on my own! Maybe find out how expansive the medicaid here is!"

He could be so frustrating.

But, as he never failed to remind to her, frustrating was better than dead.

'Usually,' she'd respond.

It made her smile, and the forest seemed that much less confining.

Something squelched beneath her boot, and her good mood shattered. Another one-hundred paces had her aching for a Grimm, any Grimm, to leap at her from the brush, just so she could have something to vent her frustration upon. It was far too long before the sun began to set, dousing the green and brown of the woods in viciously beautiful orange. Every leaf was alight, every stream was a line of glimmering crystal. It really was quite beautiful, even if the area did its best to confound her.

With every step the brilliant orange of the sky dulled to an ever richer purple, and with every step the world around her began to quiet. The birds ceased their songs, and the squirrels and rabbits scuttled to a halt. Her hand tightened around the rapier at her waist as two chips of glacier swiveled and scanned the boughs above her for an adequate place to rest.

It didn't take long to find one to her liking, the trees here were old hardwoods, their roots and trunks as gnarled as they were thick, but the branches were sturdy, dense, and high up. So there's that.

Bark cracked and snapped as sharpened steel dug into it. Splinters and flecks of moss sprinkled onto milk-white skin as she shook them loose in her quest to get higher. Camping alone in Grimm infested territory was always an interesting endeavor. Being on the ground was by far the worst option for reasons only a moron couldn't understand, but being in the tallest bough of a tree was only slightly less dangerous. Especially in an area with unknown Grimm.

It left one too open to the sky.

'The sky is the realm of birds and Grimm,' Winter would say, 'we made it ours as well through science and willpower, but we were never meant to be there.' Ruby's uncle Qrow - only ten feet to go - had seemed to be the only one who ever felt at home there. Though more at home at the bottom of his flask, a grunt as she hefted herself onto the branch she'd been eyeing, till the very end.

Flashes of a Reaper with salt rivers flowing from her eyes while an ocean of flaming gold roared beside her leapt unbidden to her mind. She did her best to shove them down. There is a time and a place.

Platinum hair brushed against chittering leaves in a chorus of rustles. The reinforced steel-dust alloy of Myrtenaster and her scattered bits of plate thunked against the tree, its dull protests silenced by the cloth of her coat. Her eyes traced the sky above her, roaming through each constellation she'd ever learned. Roain the Soldier was always Winter's favorite, and The Twin Hunters had always been Whitley's. A small smile played on her lips, somehow he had never noticed that he, the only non-Hunter member of the family, loved the Hunter Memorial constellation the most.

Her eyelids began to droop as the white noise of nature lured her to sleep, but still one hand remained on the hilt of her rapier. Just in case.

It was still night when she woke. The shattered moon and scattered stars twinkled distractedly above, but her mind was focused on the world around her.

She was stock still, and something was wrong.

It (probably) wasn't anything deadly, but if she was awake, then it wasn't included in normal woodland sounds for...wherever she was. The breeze tickled her face and taunted the hair she had so tightly bound, cicadas droned their endless song, and an owl wouldn't cease its hoot- crunch clank.

She smiled and readied Myrtenaster, the sheath hardly making a noise as it shifted.

Crunch clank - one foot forward towards the edge of the branch - crunch clank - the groan of wood as the branch complained - crunch clank.

It was right below her.

With nothing more than a thought a glyph appeared below and in front of her target. Light as brief and bright as lightning consumed everything in pure, unadulterated whiteness. She was used to it by now, comfortable with it, so it didn't hurt her. The same couldn't be said for the man below as he cursed and froze at the sight before him.

A Beowulf Alpha stood at 8"4' before him, it's coat a perfect, snowy white dotted with specks of winter-morning blue. It did not move.

She landed with a thud, Myrtenaster's steel slicing into the earth like it wasn't even there. "I'm sorry, sir," her voice drawled as she rose, head tilted to inspect the scarred steel of her gauntlet as casually as possible, "I'm afraid this area is off limits to civilians like yourself. Please turn around and head back -" her words were cut by a grunt, but she wasn't sure whose it was. A wall of steel, flesh, and soul barreled into her, arms as strong as an Ursa wrapping her in a vice of a hug.

He didn't say anything, and she was too shocked and strangled to reply.

His arms were strong, the little cloth that wasn't beneath armor was coarse and speckled with pinpricks of wetness indicating mud or rainwater. The familiar scent of juniper, sweat, weapon lubricant, and field clothes filled her mind, contested only by the chirping of the cicadas. She let it overwhelm her, the mountain of anxiety over her partner's safety melting in the warmth of the contact.

It was nice. It was quiet. She liked it.

He pulled away too soon, sapphire blue eyes meeting the glacial ice of her own; they were overflowing with relief, and just a tad misty. A smile, one tinted with concern worked its way onto her face. "You okay?" It might've been an unnecessary question, might've been obvious, but she wanted to let him speak for himself.

"Yeah," Jaune replied, sparing a glance for the forest around them, "just worried about you was all." His hand drifted from the pommel of Crocea Mors to the red, pink, and green cloth wrapped around his waist.

She had been worried about him too of course, much more than I thought I was, but she knew he'd worry about her worrying about him, and Dust knows that wasn't a cycle she wanted to start again. Still hate to make him worry though, hypocrite or not. "Unnecessary," she stated, it was very unlikely anything in this forest - or beyond - could kill them, and anyone that could was a friend, "but appreciated."

Green, black, and brown danced to the steady tune of the night sky behind him (She'd given up on actually trying to see over him years ago, and around worked just as well.), the leaves and bugs whispering their chorus. "I don't suppose you ran into anyone else on the way?"

"Not a one, unless you count trees as people. You?"

She sighed, "the same. My scroll has been acting up as well, which means -"

"We've got a long walk," he finished, grass and twigs cracking underfoot as he moved down the path.

The ground slipped by beneath her, the decay of the forest floor muffling each step. Jaune carried on a scant five feet ahead in his patchwork armor, dodging branches a foot and a half above her head. They didn't talk, and she didn't mind. Were it not for the void in her mind and her malfunctioning scroll, it would've been just another kill-mission.

But it wasn't.

Her left hand tightened around the hilt of Myrtenaster, head snapping from shadow to shadow in the brush, waiting for any of them to sprout crimson eyes. We don't know how we got here. We don't know where here is. Fingers brushed against the pocket that held her scroll, no contact with anyone, no location, malfunctioning electronics -

"Weiss," he whispered, and she started internally "c'mere."

He was only a few feet down the trail, standing so obviously in a glow that any sniper worth their salt could've easily blown his head clean off. She frowned as she walked, "what is - " oh.

There was a gap in the trees, entirely natural, and through it stretched the endless and perfectly clear night sky. Stars twinkled like gemstones against a burst of pink and purple dust that slashed across the void. The broken moon spilled milky yellow light across the treetops and riverbanks of a massive, emerald valley, that eagerly reflected it back in kind. Every now and then a flare of white would trace its way across the tapestry, leaving behind a brilliant trail of stardust.

"Wow," she whispered, "it's breathtaking."

"Yeah," she turned to face him as he spoke, their faces bathed in starlight. "It is."

Her grip on Myrtenaster relaxed to nothing.

"So you don't remember anything either then?"

Weiss Schnee shook her head, the firelight dancing rabidly across her face at the movement. "I remember your horribly inappropriate choice of desert clothing," she glared at him, and he had the courtesy to blush ever so slightly, "but nothing else, no." She sighed into her field rations, "I opened my eyes and was simply...here."

Her spoon scraped idly against the tin of the can, scrounging for any remnants of protein left, "Any different from your story?"

"No," he frowned, "pretty much the exact same really, though I threw up when I...landed, I guess?"

She smirked, "you did? How very typical that your motion sickness holds up through teleportation." She'd vomited too of course, but he doesn't need to know that.

Jaune blushed and laughed, orange light glinting off his teeth as one hand rose to scratch his head in a tick she knew by heart. "My dad would say it's all about consistency, so at least there's that?"

Giggles burst from her lips, something about that meek on him look always made her giggle, Winter would call it ill suited for a Huntsman. She couldn't disagree more. "What?" His cheeks were bright red now, "What'd I do?"

That only made her giggles devolve into laughter. A small part of her noted how at odds the sound was with the forest around them. She ignored it. "Nothing," she replied through a storm of snorts, "nothing at all."

Crimson remained splashed on his cheeks, but the orange of the fire camouflaged it quite well, and so did the MRE that his face was currently buried in. Her hips shifted to find comfortable purchase one this damnable log, though knots and bark still pricked through her dress. It's not that she wasn't used to 'roughing it,' as it were, it's just that, well, the past two days had been long to say the least. Gargantuan didn't seem to do the forest justice. It was interminable. For four and a half whole days they'd hiked and slashed their way through unknown territory, and the only other humans they'd encountered had been centuries old skeletons in equally ancient ruins. They had about four more days of MREs left, but after that it was time to hunt. Weiss snorted before common sense crushed it. Xiao-Long what did you do to me?

A quick shake of her head followed by a slow exhale. Hunting will not be an issue, and neither shall water with my ice dust and the environment. The place certainly wasn't the endless wastes of Vacuo that was for sure. It's rather lush all things considered, no Mistrali rainforest, but it beats the taiga of home.

It had been a while since she'd thought of home. Not years, but easily months. I wonder if Whitley has people searching for us...if only her gods-damned scroll could get a call through. She hmm'ed to herself, before glancing up, "Jaune, do you th-" the man across from her almost jumped, head snapping to her with slightly-wider-than-normal eyes. "Lost in thought?" She questioned. He had been, obviously, but better to let him tell her about it than to pry.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess. It's just that...well…" She waited, but nothing more came, his sapphire eyes picking apart every shrub and oak around them.

"Just that…?"

His eyes remained locked on the woods. "This place, these woods. They feel, I dunno, familiar somehow."

One or two rogue strands of hair shifted into view as she cocked her head. "You mean to say you've been here before?"

"Maybe. I just…," Jaune shook his head almost imperceptibly, "I don't know. It'll be easier to tell when the sun rises."

A smile creeped onto her face, "Like the past four days perhaps?"

Chuckles bubbled from his lips like spring water, cool and refreshing against her mind. "Yeah, like the past four days. No one's ever called me observant."

Her legs hissed and whined as she rose, each footfall around their petite campfire deliberate and calculated. "Maybe not to matters of the heart," she spoke, one hand reaching to Myrtenaster to stoke the fire with as she crouched. "Or anything social really…"

"Gee thanks, Weiss."

Embers and smoke curled its way into the sky, the fire cackling at each poke. "But, when it comes to other subjects - battle, strategy, analysis - you can be surprisingly sharp."

"'Surprisingly?'" Crocea Mors scraped against the bark of a log as the man behind her shifted and mumbled.

"Yes, surprisingly." Her smile grew wider. "To those who knew you before, and during, Beacon that is. You have to admit, you didn't make the best of impressions."

Weiss could see the tiny cringe on the man's face, but she didn't blame him. Her own behavior at the start of Beacon had been equally unacceptable. "Putting it mildly," he said, eyes lost in the fire. Lost in the past.

"I wasn't any better," she stated. He nodded, but said nothing.

A sigh slipped from her lips, "your behavior is nothing to be ashamed of, Jaune. We were all teenagers at some point, and none of us were graceful about it." He nodded again, eyes locked on the fire, and Weiss moved to sit beside him on that weathered stone.

His left hand was white, drained of blood with knuckles ready to breach the skin. Her own hand fell across his, firelight dancing off her complexion. "They would be proud of us," her voice was soft, but insistent. "Happy for us. All of them."

The tendons in his hand relaxed slowly, his eyes sparkling with firelight and wetness. "I know," he said, the patchwork quilt of his armor shifting under the desperate stroke of his right hand. Gold, green, pink, and white steel sparkled with orange light. His hair bounced as he turned to her, a small, sad smile on his face. "I really do. Sometimes it hits harder than others though." She nodded gently, knowing exactly what he meant.

"You see something they'd enjoy, that they'd love," she said, eyes drifting up to the night sky sparkling with light. "Like that valley, like the sky," she smiled, "somehow even the MRE, and you can't help but think about what they'd say, about what you'd share together." She sighed again. "I know it's so easy to get lost in that, but it only makes the past hurt more. Nothing can be changed except the future. We're partners, Jaune, no matter what, and -"

"We'll help guide each other out," they spoke, the hand under hers flipping up to return her grip.

Weiss Schnee smiled. "Yes," glacier blue and sapphire met, twinkling in the firelight. "Yes we will."

"That...that can't be right." Impossible. Simply impossible. "That can't be there, we can't be here."

"I know," the man beside her said.

"It doesn't make sense! We would remember!" Her left hand fiddled with Myrtenaster's hilt. A tick she'd had for as long as she'd had the rapier.

"I know." He merely stared at it, its emerald tower lights unmissable against the purple of the evening sky.

"How," she whispered, "how did this happen?"

"I don't know."

Hair white as snow whipped in the cool breeze as she rounded on him, mouth open and ready to shout. She stopped herself before she could though. He knows as much as you. Stay calm. Control yourself. One deep breath, she held it and let it fill her. Exhale.

She opened her eyes to see Jaune trying to smother laughter. I take it back. Who needs calm? Stab him.

"What," she practically spat.

The blonde tried to quietly bite his lip, but Jaune, even after her telling him a thousand times, was about as subtle as a drunken ox. He chuckled again, smile wide, and she growled. About as smart too.

"Nothing, nothing at all."

Glacier eyes narrowed.

"You're just…" sapphire eyes flitted back to the familiar tower in the distance.

"Just what?"

Steel clanked as his shoulders rose and fell, and that infuriating smile was still in place. "You're just so tiny."

Cicadas sang their songs, the leaves whispered, and Weiss' eyebrow twitched, her shoulders stock still. He doesn't need to live. "My size allows for greater maneuverability during combat and provides for a smaller target, and has caused many a fatal underestimation of my abilities. But a lumbering brute like yourself wouldn't understand anything about grace or fluidity now would they?"

He chuckled again. Again. "No, I guess I wouldn't."

"I'm glad you recognize your shortcomings -" her eyes widened ever so slightly at the word and intake of breath from her partner. "Say it and you'll and I'll freeze you solid," she growled.

Laughter burst out from beside her, cracking through the birdsongs and leaves, sending the fauna scuttling for cover. Leather found her face and gripped the bridge of her nose, "can we please get back to the currently impossible situation?"

"Right," another laugh. Her grip tightened, "Beacon," he stated.

"Yes. Beacon."

"They must've finished the renovations early," one of his palms scraped its way to his belt, "a shame Cardin and Velvet didn't invite us for the ceremony, but I guess we aren't often, y'know, reachable."

She didn't know whether to nod or sigh. On the one hand, yes, everything he said was correct, especially the unreachable part. The CCT signal often didn't reach to whatever frontier town or Grimm nest that they'd trudged out to, and Cardin and Velvet wouldn't be able to hold up such a vital ceremony for two Hunters, no matter their names. They would, and did, understand. On the other hand, that hadn't been what she was referring to at all, but he has to know that.

"You know what I meant," she said, head lolling back against her shoulders as she closed her eyes and stared at what she hoped was the sky.

"How'd we get here?"

A nod, though with how her head was positioned it looked more like a spasm. She could hear his hand reach up to scratch the top of his head, a tick he'd had since she'd first met him at Beacon. "I don't really know -"

"Who could've guessed," she drawled.

"- but someone there will definitely be able to help us, been too long since we've seen Velv anyway hasn't it?"

It would be nice to see them, yes. A sigh. "Let our arrival remain a mystery for now then, I suppose?"

Another scratch while the other hand hooked inside his belt. "Yeah. For now. We can ask Velvet and Cardin if Vale's sensors detected anything wonky out where we were, and, if that doesn't work, then we can scour the library."

White eyebrows peaked at that, and not just because it was Jaune of all people suggesting they head back there. The man had feared that place like it was Hell itself. "It would be nice to go back to the library," a small smile grew on her lips at the thought of those halls and the memories they held, "I like it."

Steel clanked and grass crunched as the two started down the hill.

According to her scroll it was well past midnight; 2:03am, to be precise. Jaune had still wanted to drop by Beacon, maybe wake up Velvet and Cardin.

'Over my dead body,' had been her response.

Velvet worked day in and day out to keep that school running, and she wouldn't allow her partner's rudeness to get in the way of the sleep that made it possible. So instead, they had wandered down into Vale itself.

The rolling hills, open pastures, endless fields of crops, and the occasional guard dog had been their only opponents on the stroll through the Agri District. It was quite remarkable honestly, and still, after all these years, she couldn't get over the surprise. When people (her included) thought of Vale, they thought of a city overflowing with people all packed like sardines. Every nook and cranny was filled with buildings, roads, and garbage, and the only trees were far outside the walls. Imagine their surprise when they found out they were wrong, that almost 3/4ths of the walled territory of Vale was farmland and forest.

She had thought she was being made a fool of back when Ruby had told her, but the girl's eyes hadn't held an ounce of mischievous glint. It took a whole outing - forced by Ruby and Yang - for that to really be hammered home.

And it still felt off.

How could anyone justify so much empty space? Maybe her perspective had been warped by Atlas' obsession with using every square foot possible, but it just didn't seem worth it to have so many empty acres when you could produce the same amount of food with 1/7th of the land in an Agriculture Tower.

Ruby and Yang had been, well, quite opposed to that idea. They treasured their green spaces though. Loved them. How many Valean citizens actually make use of this area though?

Before she even realized it, the silence of her footfalls ceased, replaced by the crack of stone. The rolling hills were gone, and the towering, grey confines of Vale proper replaced the green. Her left hand fell to Myrtenaster's hilt, and she noticed Jaune do the same with Crocea Mors in the corner of her vision. Her head snapped from alley to window and back again, prowling for any sign of movement or ambush.

It was far too easy to hide one in a city like this, and being on the open sidewalk was...unnerving.

Weiss' teeth ground together as a child dashed out of an alley with a ball and a friend. Myrtenaster's chamber whirled and cocked, half out of its sheath before she caught herself. "I don't like this," she and her sheath hissed.

The blond on her front right nodded, a curt, jerky thing with his posture being as locked as it was. "On the bright side it looks...well, really nice. Incredibly nice."

An agreeable hum played on her lips as she took in the architecture. Relax. You must look like a strung-out addict. "True, an incredible job by the council, I've yet to see a single scar from the Fall." A frown, "Velvet probably had to strongarm them into it though."

"You think so?"

She nodded, those damn rogue strands itching across her face, "I do. They were never ones to part easily with money."

The man beside her thought that over, one hand scratching the beard on his face while the other remained locked on his weapon. "I guess so," his armor clanked as he shrugged, "but you'd think they'd be just as eager to rebuild their home as anyone else, right?"

"Maybe," her eyes flitted to the holo-lights around them, towering, sky-blue poles that served as streetlights throughout the city. When was the last time she saw one of those? "I suppose I might be biased, never been their biggest fan."

"I get that, especially when coming from Atlas like you did. Everyone does politics diff-"

The ground beneath them shook, a hungry fireball ripping through the nighttime tranquility a scant half-mile away.

Hydraulics whirred and compressed beneath her as she launched into a run, the man beside her keeping pace on her front right, shield out. Their go-to formation. They barrelled past a teenage couple locked together, then an open-all-night convenience store's shopkeep that had poked out to see what the ruckus was about. There was group of ganger kids that retreated into an alley when they saw them, an old couple, and a woman with a dog that was losing its mind at the light. All of them at least had the presence of mind to hear the pair coming and dodge so as not to get bowled over. Admittedly however, one would have to be very out of it to not hear their commotion, so that wasn't saying much.

The fire grew ever larger as they approached, two more, smaller explosions feeding its glare and roar. The closer they got, the fewer houses and shops there were, and the more warehouses, offices, industrial docking sites, and construction equipment there was. Rust coated most every surface they passed like scabs on a wound, and the scent of dead fish, sea salt, and fumes combined with the ozone of burning Dust slammed against her senses. Exactly how it used to be.

Dilapidated walls stained red and orange by the raging fire crept ever closer to them on either side, moaning like wounded beasts. Rancid puddles with boats of trash splashed up her legs as she shattered their stagnancy, the moon rippling in shock. The walls creaked as a shockwave rolled down their alleyway and sent Jaune's hair writhing. Her own did not budge.

A cry ping-ponged off the corrugated metal, warping with every bounce. The voice was familiar, but she could not pin down just who it was. Unimportant. Keep your guard up. Fire roared at the mouth of the black, a light of chaos in the night that they leapt through. Weiss Schnee and Jaune Arc sprinted out of the alleyway and stopped dead in their tracks, the cloth wrapped around them whiplashing back into place.

Two pairs of eyes, one icy and the other ocean blue went wide for, framed in the firelight before them, was Penny Polendina, her swords whirling in a wiry dance. Alive.

She was alive.

A/N: Hello and welcome to For Those We Are Yet to Lose! I've had this idea dwelling in the back of my mind for a very long time now, planning and replanning its story. The plot has gone through so many revisions in my head that it's almost unrecognizable, and this chapter has gotten just as many rewrites. But goddamn has it been fun. The pairing for this story is WhiteKnight (Weiss and Jaune, shocker right?), but the two aren't together at the moment, just very, very close. This story will center around Weiss and Jaune's experiences and emotions after having accidentally gotten time warped. I think it'll be a lot of fun, and I can't wait to write something that will actually have planned and focused romance! I really am a sucker for the stuff, and I hope I do it justice.

Anyway, enough about my ramblings, this chapter was mostly setup and character windows. Give us a good idea of how the two interact, of what they feel, of how things are, or were before everything went all sci-fi.

Tell me anything and everything that y'all would/wouldn't like to see via reviews or PM! We can have a chat about interactions, characterization, or even future plot points if you're willing to help me iron out some of the more meticulous details! In general, just tell me what you think, it always makes my day to hear from y'all!

Older Jaune was probably the hardest part of this chapter to write. Trying to make him seem more somber and mature, but still trying to fit in the inherent social clumsiness that makes Jaune who he is was very difficult, and I'm still not really sure how I did on that front. Just a heads up, this story will switch back and forth between Jaune and Weiss PoV, but I don't think it'll be like a "one chapter is Weiss then the next is Jaune, etc" sort of deal, it'll be more inconsistent. Some chapters may even have both PoVs in one, but that should be kinda rare.

Have a good day out there, and stay safe y'all!