Shadows of Beacon

by Morodens

Summary:

Ruby now a team RWBY leader meets a strange grimm outside, it doesn't seem aggressive though and follows her around, however situation slowly escalates.

Notes:

This is my first fanfic and english isn't my main language. Hope you like it!

(The whole work was written in one sitting, so chapter distribution is for convenience.)

Chapter 1: Knight

The courtyard of Beacon was alive with chatter as the newly formed teams returned from their initiation. Ruby Rose could hardly keep the grin off her face. She had a team, she had a partner, and—well, she was the leader of Team RWBY.

Yang gave her an affectionate noogie. “Not bad, sis. Not bad at all!”

Blake smirked softly from the sidelines while Weiss crossed her arms, looking angry.

Yang and Blake quickly walked away into Beacon. Ruby was left alone with her partener Weiss.

Weiss looked Ruby in the eyes. Even if Ruby was socially awkward she could still see that she wasn't happy with Ruby's new position.

As Weiss looked at her turned away and walk into Beacon, Ruby slipped away from her partner for a moment, her silver eyes drawn toward the forest beyond. The Emerald Forest was quiet now, eerily so. She needed to think, she was now a leader, she has her own team to worry about, Weiss hates her and she is only fifteen. What will she do now?

A movement caught her attention. Her eyes quickly moved. A figure was standing near the tree on the edge of the cliff.

A Grimm.

At least, that was her first thought. It was small, no taller than her waist, its body cloaked in a cloath that seemed like it seen greater times. But its face—if one could call it that—was smooth, a pale mask with two dark, empty sockets inside was inky blackness that seemed to drink in the fading light. It's legs looked just like eyes purely black and they didn't have strict form. Not snarling, not howling, not charging at her with claws and teeth like Beowolves usually did.

It just…stood there.

Ruby blinked, Crescent Rose was already in her arms. “Uhm… hi?”

The creature tilted its head. Its small horn-like protrusions now looked at her, and it gave the faintest shuffle of steps forward.

Ruby tensed. But instead of attacking, the little Grimm-like being stopped a few feet away and simply…waited.

“...You’re not gonna try to eat me?” she asked nervously. Creature rose his head now once again looking at her.

Silence. The Grimm only stared, without any movement at all.

Something about its presence made Ruby’s instincts scream danger—yet, oddly, she felt no real fear. Her silver eyes shimmered faintly as they met the creature’s void-like gaze. For a moment, she thought she saw something inside: a flicker of will, almost like… curiosity.

And then, without warning, the thing began to follow her.

“Wait—no, no, no, you can’t come with me! Weiss will freak out and she already doesn't like me! And Yang—well, she’d probably think you’re cute, but still!” Ruby flailed her arms.

The creature gave no reply. Step for step, it trailed behind her, silent as shadow.

Ruby sighed, slumping her shoulders. “...Great. I’ve adopted a Grimm. Weiss is gonna kill me.”

Chapter 2: An Unusual Roommate

Ruby pushed the door to their new dorm open, trying to be as quiet as possible. Weiss was organizing her things, Blake was already reading, and Yang was sprawled across a bed, like she owned the place.

Ruby shuffled inside, holding Crescent Rose in front of her like a makeshift shield. Her whole pose was tense. Yang looked at her from the bed.

“Ruby…” Weiss said without even looking up. “You’re late. Don’t tell me you got lost on the way back.”

“Heh… no, not lost,” Ruby mumbled, glancing behind her.

"Something isn't right?" Yang asked, noticing her tense position.

Step. Step.

The Creature entered the room without hesitation, its tiny frame slipping through the door like a shadow. Its pale mask reflected the light of Beacon’s lamps, making the sockets look even darker.

Yang blinked. “Uh, Rubes? You… brought something back from the forest.” her arms quickly reached Ember Celica that was laying beside her.

Ruby winced. “Okay, don’t freak out! He’s—um—looks like a Grimm. Buuuut! He’s not like the others! He’s… Uh…nice?…”

Weiss spun around, eyes wide. “You brought a Grimm into our dormitory?!” Ruby took a step back. "What a good leader I got."

The Creature ignored her shriek completely and, with deliberate calm, hopped onto the nearest unclaimed bed—Ruby’s—and sat perfectly still, legs dangling slightly off the edge. Like a silent guardian waiting for orders.

Weiss's rapier quickly got in hand she attacked Grimm that was sitting. However Ruby got there faster using her semblance and blocked the attack.

"What are you doing?! It isn't dangerous, can't you see?" Ruby shouted.

Blake set her book down, her amber eyes narrowing. “It doesn’t feel the same as other Grimm…” she admitted softly. “There’s no malice. No bloodlust. Just… emptiness.”

"It's Grimm maybe it will attack later, can't you see how dangerous it is to leave this thing alone?" Weiss voice felt as cold as ice.

Yang tilted her head, studying the odd little figure. “I mean, for a Grimm, it’s kinda adorable. Like a weird little… plushie.”

The Creature turned its head at Yang’s words it's eyes looked straight into her face, unblinking, unflinching.

Weiss pressed a hand to her forehead. “This is absurd. Headmaster Ozpin will never allow this! Grimm are dangerous, destructive—”

“—but he’s not!” Ruby protested, rushing to sit beside the Knight. She put her hand near it nervously, half-expecting attack. Instead, the Knight simply turned its masked face toward her and remained still, as if acknowledging her presence. “See? He doesn’t attack people. He just… follows me. Like he wants to be here.”

Silence filled the room. Even Weiss didn’t have a retort ready. However she still looked at her leader angry.

Finally, Blake spoke again, voice low. “Maybe it’s worth seeing what it does. If it’s truly different from the Grimm… that’s something Ozpin should know about.”

Ruby hugged her knees on the bed, glancing at the Knight, who remained utterly motionless. Despite its alien stillness, she felt comforted by it—like it was a shadow that chose to stay by her side.

Yang grinned and leaned back on her pillow. “Well, sis, looks like you’ve got yourself a pet Grimm. Just don’t let it drool on my stuff.”

Ruby puffed her cheeks. “He’s not a pet! He’s…" Ruby nervously looked at figure trying to notice some odd details, her eyes stumbled upon a sword hilt "the Knight.”

The Knight gave no reaction, save for the faintest tilt of its head, as though accepting the name.

Ruby looked Scroll it was already time to sleep if she didn't want to be late on first lesson on first day.

Team RWBY finished their routine and quickly got to beds, knight still sitting on Ruby's bed.

Ruby took the Knight in her arms and moved him to the corner, however when she turned Weiss gave her a look of such hatred that she quickly moved little figure out of the room.

Chapter 3: An Audience with Ozpin

The next morning, Ruby shuffled nervously down the long Beacon halls with her team behind her. Weiss couldn't stop speaking of a bad discipline and leader's mistake with Yang trying to defend her sister. The Knight padded silently at Ruby's side, each step as soundless as a shadow.

Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose. “I still think this is insane. Bringing a Grimm directly to the Headmaster? What if it decides to attack him?”

Yang grinned. “Relax, Ice Queen. If it did, I’m pretty sure Ozpin could flick it out the window before finishing his coffee.”

Blake glanced down at the little figure. Its pale mask gave away nothing, but its stillness was eerie, it didn’t even breathe. “It hasn’t shown hostility. We should let Ozpin decide.”

The elevator chimed, opening to reveal Ozpin’s office at the top of the tower. The large clock face filled the room with golden light, casting long shadows across the floor. Glynda Goodwitch stood nearby, arms crossed, eyes narrowing the instant she spotted the Knight.

“Headmaster,” Weiss began sharply, “I tried to explain to my team, my leader that this was dangerous, but they insisted—”

Ozpin raised a hand, silencing her. His calm green eyes drifted down to the Knight, who had simply walked to the center of the room and stood there as if awaiting judgment.

Ruby fidgeted. “Um… s-so, this is what I wanted to show you. I found him—well, it—after initiation. He’s like a Grimm, but… not. He hasn’t attacked anyone. He just follows me around. I named him the Knight.”

Silence.

Ozpin sipped his coffee. Slowly. Deliberately. Then he lowered the mug and leaned slightly on his cane then took a step forward.

“How very curious,” he said softly. “A Grimm that chooses not to fight… but to follow.” he looked straight at the Knight.

Glynda’s eyes flashed. “Headmaster, this is reckless. A Grimm within Beacon walls—”

“And yet,” Ozpin interrupted, “it has walked past countless students and staff without raising fang nor claw. Has it not?”

Ruby nodded quickly. “Exactly! He’s not dangerous. I can feel it.”

Ozpin studied Ruby, his gaze flickering with something unreadable. “Interesting… Silver eyes, and now a companion such as this.”

The Knight shifted slightly, head tilting upward as if recognizing Ozpin’s attention. For the briefest moment, the shadows around Ozpin thickened.

Ozpin and the Knight simply stared at one another.

Finally, Ozpin set his cane aside. “Miss Rose… I will permit this Knight to remain at Beacon—for now. But understand this: Grimm are not… meant to behave this way. Its presence is an anomaly, and anomalies often carry… consequences.”

Ruby brightened. “So he can stay?!”

Weiss's eyes opened in shock "What?" she mumbled.

Ozpin smiled faintly. “For now. But keep him close.”

The Knight gave no response, but when Ruby turned to leave, it followed obediently, silent as always.

"Oh, and Miss Schnee, could you stay?" Ozpin said while Weiss.

"Yes, headmaster, I would have done it anyway, I have a question to ask" Weiss looked directly at the Ozpin while her team walked away.

"My leader is a child who couldn't even make informed decisions, I think I would be a better leader" Weiss said looking straight into Ozpin eyes.

"Hm, you really think so" Ozpin voice suddenly interrupted clock ticking. "Always gotten what you whant, didn't you?"

"Ah" Weiss took a step back and looked away from the headmaster.

"Miss Schnee you couldn't even be a good partner now and you think you fit for a leader place?" Goodwitch spoke calmly yet her voice seemed very loud to Weiss. "Try at least to be a good teammate."

Weiss turned around and quickly run off from Ozpin office.

As the elevator doors closed behind Team Weiss, Glynda turned sharply toward Ozpin. “You’re allowing this? A Grimm inside Beacon?”

Ozpin swirled his coffee, eyes on the clock’s steady ticking. “Tell me, Glynda… when have Grimm ever chosen something else over destruction? No… this one is different. Very different. I suspect this is not Grimm at all.”

His gaze lingered where the Knight had stood. For the first time in a long while, Ozpin looked… unsettled.

***

Ruby sat at her bed first lesson is soon to start, the Knight sat beside her, the door suddenly opened and Weiss entered the room looking very sad. Her eyes quickly scanned the room until stumbling upon Ruby. Her expression altered now looking thoughtful.

"I am sorry." Weiss voice interrupted the silence.

"What?" Ruby answered shoked. "For what?"

"For thinking that I will fit leader role better." Ruby's eyes widen.

"Weiss it's not that big of a deal, you are over it now, that what matters" Ruby tried to hug Weiss, she however doged.

Weiss quickly looked at her scroll she grabbed Ruby's hand "We are almost late!" and run from the dorm with Knight silently following them.

Chapter 4: Knight in the land of hunters

Word traveled fast at Beacon Academy. By the end of the day, everyone knew that Team RWBY’s leader had, somehow, adopted a Grimm.

And not just any Grimm—a tiny, silent, creature that trailed after Ruby like a lost puppy.

The cafeteria buzzed with whispers the next morning. Students craned their necks as Ruby and the Knight walked past, trays in hand (well, tray in Ruby’s hand).

“Is that… really a Grimm?” a student muttered.

“It’s so small…”

“Don’t get too close, what if it explodes or something?”

Ruby plopped down at her team’s table, trying to ignore the stares. The Knight hopped onto the bench beside her, legs dangling like a child who didn’t quite reach the floor.

Yang grinned, tossing a fry into her mouth. “I think they’re jealous. Not everyone gets their own personal Grimm bodyguard.”

Weiss groaned, stabbing her food with unnecessary force. “Or perhaps they’re sane enough to understand the danger of keeping such a thing around!”

Blake, quietly eating, kept stealing glances at the Knight. “It doesn’t feel… wrong,” she said finally. “But it doesn’t feel right either.”

Across the cafeteria, Team JNPR approached cautiously.

“Whoa!” Nora leaned forward, eyes sparkling. “Ruby, you got a pet Grimm?! That’s so cool! Can I hug it? Please tell me I can hug it!”

Ren placed a calm hand on her shoulder. “Nora. Perhaps not.”

Jaune scratched the back of his head, staring at the Knight. “I don’t get it. Grimm usually, you know, attack people from my experience. Why’s this one just… sitting there?”

Ruby smiled awkwardly. “That’s what makes him special! He’s not like the others. He’s—” she gestured proudly “—the Knight!”

The Knight tilted its head ever so slightly, as if acknowledging the title.

Nora couldn't contain herself anymore hugged little Knight, who didn't even move a bit. "Oh, he is so cute! Can we get one? Ren, I want one, please!"

Pyrrha studied it carefully, her warrior’s instinct conflicted. “It certainly doesn’t give off the same presence as other Grimm. If anything… it feels hollow.”

The cafeteria fell into an awkward silence at that word. Except Nora who just couldn't stop speaking.

Ruby glanced at the Knight beside her. Silent. Motionless.

***

That night, when the dorm was quiet and her teammates fast asleep, Ruby sat up in bed. The Knight sat at the edge , still as stone.

She smiled softly, whispering, “I don’t care what anyone says. You’re not a monster. You’re… something more.”

The Knight didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t react.

And deep within the silence of its being, something stirred—
not thought, not feeling, not will.
Only echo.
Only void.

No mind to think.
No will to break.
No voice to cry suffering.
Born of God and Void.

The Knight sat. Silent. Eternal. Empty.

But echo is always formed from something.

Ruby slept peacefully behind it.

Chapter 5: Ruby's Research Notes

The Knight sat motionless in the center of Team RWBY’s dorm, illuminated by lamplight. Ruby bounced excitedly with a notebook in hand, while Weiss stood stiffly with her arms crossed, clearly reluctant but unable to resist her leader’s enthusiasm.

“Okay, team!” Ruby declared. “Operation: Learn About the Knight begins!”

Yang smirked from her bed. “So basically… bug dissection, but alive?”

“Not dissection!” Ruby flailed. “Research! There’s a difference!”

"That's not a bad idea actually." Weiss said and pulled out a notebook. "People couldn't study Grimm closely we will be the first"

The Knight didn’t move, didn’t speak, simply tilted its pale mask toward her as if granting permission.

***

Test #1: What is it made of?

Ruby poked the Knight’s cloak with her scythe’s handle. The cloak shifted like fabric, but beneath it… the texture was wrong. Not flesh, not bone. Something darker. More like compact shadow given form.

Ruby touched the Knight torso with her hand "Fells like liquid!"

Blake crouched, her amber eyes narrowing. “It feels… insubstantial. Almost like smoke, but denser. There’s nothing human about this.”

Weiss scribbled something into her scroll. “Grimm essence, clearly. Nothing surprising there.”

Yet when she touched its mask—smooth, pale, cold like polished stone—she drew back, unsettled.

“This is no bone I’ve ever seen,” she murmured.

***

Test #2: Can he understand us clearly?

"Alright we know he could react to some of our words, but maybe it's an instinct or something" Ruby said.

Ruby leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands. “Knight? Can you… understand me?”

The Knight tilted its head slightly.

Yang laughed. “That’s a yes.”

“Or coincidence,” Weiss argued.

Ruby tried again. “If you understand me, raise your hand.”

The Knight stared at her. Then, deliberately, slowly, it raised one small hand.

Ruby gasped. “See! He understands!”

Weiss muttered, “This is insane.” But her pen didn’t stop writing. "And strange no Grimm can do so."

***

Test #3: Can he take off the mask?

Ruby circled the Knight like an archaeologist studying a relic. “Sooo… is that a helmet? Or a face? Or both?”

She reached out hesitantly. “Mind if I just—”

The instant her fingers brushed the edge of the mask, a ripple of pressure pulsed through the room. Not violent—just… wrong. Like the air had turned heavy, reality itself pushing her hand away.

Ruby yanked back, eyes wide. “O-okay! Mask stays on!”

The Knight didn’t move. Didn’t protest. Just sat in silence.

Blake frowned. “That mask isn’t decoration. It is not his form. It is him”

***

Test #4: Aura or… something?

Weiss was the first to try. She extended her aura toward the Knight, searching for the familiar resonance that all Hunters carried. She found nothing.

“No aura. As expected.”

But Ruby stepped forward, closing her eyes. She focused… and felt it. Not aura. Something else. A well of glowing energy deep inside the Knight, like liquid fire behind a sealed door.

She gasped. “It’s not aura. But… there’s something similar. Something bright. Alive.”

Blake’s bow twitched. “Not aura… Not Grimm... Something similar to aura, like soul.”

The Knight tilted its head at that word. Soul.

Weiss stiffened. “Grimm don’t have souls.”

Ruby hugged her notebook to her chest. “Then he’s not a Grimm.”

***

Test #5: Getting a sample

Weiss's hand quickly moved and a niddle is injected into a pitch black body. She gets an ampule of dark liquid.

"That's greate now we can analize th-" As Weiss finishes the sentence liquid evaporates leaving nothing behind.

Yang bursts out laughing.

"It's not that funny Yang." Ruby says with an offended face. "We could've known so much."

***

That night, when the others drifted off to sleep, Ruby sat up, unable to stop staring at the little figure sitting silently at the edge of her bed.

Her thoughts spun. A Grimm with a soul? A mask that can’t be removed? He understands us… but never speaks. What are you?

The Knight remained still.

And within its silence… echoes stirred. Faint fragments, like whispers carried on cold wind.

Gift of the Wyrm.
Soul bound to vessel.
Born of God and Void.

The Knight did not think, did not feel, did not will. It only existed, a hollow shell with a fragment of something caged within.

Ruby smiled sleepily at it, unaware of the truth, and whispered, “Goodnight, Knight.”

The vessel sat. Silent. Watching. Eternal.

Chapter 6: Duel

Professor Goodwitch’s heels clicked sharply across the sparring floor as she surveyed the eager first-years. “Today,” she announced, “you will spar against each other to gauge skill levels. Remember: control, discipline, and restraint.”

Ruby shifted nervously, Crescent Rose folded neatly against her back. Beside her, the Knight stood perfectly still, cloak fluttering faintly as if stirred by unseen wind.

“Can’t believe Ozpin’s letting that thing fight,” Weiss muttered.

Ruby whispered back, “He’s not dangerous! Well… I don’t think he is…”

Across the room, Nora Valkyrie shot up her hand. “Ooo! Ooo! Professor! I wanna fight the Knight!”

The entire class froze.

Jaune paled. “Nora, maybe pick literally anyone else.”

But Glynda, after a moment’s consideration, nodded. “Very well. Miss Valkyrie versus… the Knight.”

Cheers erupted from the students, already buzzing with curiosity.

***

The duel began.

Nora twirled Magnhild onto her shoulder, grin wide. “Okay, knight-boy, show me what you got!”

The Knight, silent as ever, simply drew its weapon: a slender, needle-like nail that gleamed like polished steel.

Ruby whispered, “He… really shouldn’t…”

Yang elbowed her. “Relax. Nora’ll be fine. Probably.”

Nail caught Ruby's attention. A perfectly polished blade with a complex pattern. "Yang - Yang look at that." and Ruby started mumbling.

***

Nora charged first, hammer swinging down in an arc. The Knight moved. Not with flashy acrobatics or aura flares, but with sharp, efficient bursts. Dashmaster and Sprintmaster carried him into sudden bursts of speed—low, quick dashes that slipped neatly past Nora’s wild swings.

“Whoa!” Nora laughed, turning on her heel. “You’re fast!”

The Knight didn’t reply, only countered with a swift strike. The Nail hit Magnhild’s haft with a ringing clang. Despite the small size of the blade, Nora actually staggered back a step from the sheer precision behind the blow.

He pressed again. Strike, dash, strike. Every motion deliberate, unshakable. Steady Body made each attack flow forward, chaining without hesitation.

Weiss found herself leaning forward. “That’s… not random flailing. That’s refined technique. He is certainly not a Grimm.”

Ruby’s eyes sparkled. “He’s amazing!”

Blake whispered to Yang "Is she talking about the Knight or his weapon

"No idea." Yang chuckled. “Nora’s loving this.”

Indeed, Nora was grinning wider, sweat on her brow as she blocked another nail strike. “Finally! Someone who doesn’t break in two hits!”

She flipped Magnhild into grenade-launcher mode and fired a blast. The Knight dashed low beneath it, cloak flaring, then rebounded forward with a blur of shadow. His nail connected with Nora’s shoulder guard—crack! Sparks flew.

For the first time, Nora’s aura flickered.

The crowd gasped.

Glynda narrowed her eyes. That… was a strike of an expiranced warrior not a Grimm.

***

Nora quickly swinged hammer finally hitting a knight for the first time and exploded Magnhild to get away.

Knight mask had a crack, he didn't continue attack however, he stood there looking concentrated and then crack disappeared.

Then Knight dashed at Nora quickly attacking her three time from different directions using his advantage in speed so she couldn't block a strike despite her best efforts.

Finally, Nora planted her hammer in the ground, panting but still grinning. “Okay! Okay! You win, little guy. But next time, I’m bringing pancakes first!”

The Knight stood still, nail lowered, mask unchanging. No victory pose. No gloating. Just silence.

Glynda lifted her riding crop. “Match concluded. Winner: the Knight.”

The room erupted in murmurs.

Jaune whispered, “That thing just beat Nora…”

Weiss muttered, “Without aura.”

Ruby, practically bouncing, cheered. “I knew he was special!”

The Knight returned to Ruby’s side, motionless, as if nothing had happened.

Chapter 7: Shadows in the Tower

The tower office was dim that evening. The great clock ticked steadily behind Ozpin’s desk, its mechanical rhythm filling the silence as Glynda Goodwitch stood with her arms folded tightly.

“He fought like no creature I’ve ever seen,” she said firmly. “No wasted movement. No hesitation. Precision bordering on… unnatural. A Grimm should not fight that way.”

Ozpin swirled the contents of his mug. “No, they should not.”

Glynda’s eyes narrowed. “He had no aura. Yet his blows carried force enough to stagger Miss Valkyrie. What's more he healed himself in the middle of th fight. And when Miss Rose touched him, she felt… something. She described it as bright, alive. Almost like a soul.”

Ozpin set his mug down and leaned forward on his cane. “That is because it was a soul.”

The words hung heavy in the air.

“Impossible,” Glynda whispered. “Grimm do not possess souls.”

“No,” Ozpin said softly. “They do not. And yet… that vessel does. Not the crude mimicry of life, but true essence. Something… given. Not born.”

Glynda paced, clearly unsettled. “Given? By whom?”

Ozpin’s eyes drifted toward the window, gaze lost in centuries past. For a moment, his calm façade cracked, and there was something almost haunted in his expression.

“I have seen that light before,” he murmured. “Not in men. Not in Grimm. Only in gods.”

Glynda stopped cold. “…Gods?”

Ozpin nodded faintly. “Once, long ago, there were beings whose strength bent the world itself. Their souls blazed so fiercely that even destruction could not wholly consume them. To see that same spark… in a silent vessel of shadow…”

He trailed off, eyes narrowing.

Glynda’s grip on her riding crop tightened. “Then it’s not a Grimm. What is it, Ozpin?”

He did not answer immediately. The clock ticked. The night wind howled faintly through the glass.

Finally, Ozpin said, “A child of divinity. A vessel… forged for battle against god itself. I believe what we witnessed today was only a fragment of its strength. It hides the rest, whether by choice or by wound. Perhaps both.”

Glynda swallowed. “If you are correct… what does that mean for Beacon?”

Ozpin closed his eyes. He saw flashes in his mind—an endless battlefield, a tiny figure standing against impossible brilliance, a shattered god, a throne nearly claimed.

And now, weakened, stripped, yet here. On Remnant.

“It means,” Ozpin said quietly, “that Beacon harbors not a monster… but a god in chains.”

The clock chimed.

And far below, in the dormitory, the Knight sat unmoving at Ruby’s bedside, silent as always. No will. No mind. No voice.

But deep inside, beneath layers of void, the spark still pulsed. Waiting.

Chapter 8: Edge of the Pure Nail

The dorm was quiet again. Blake read on her bunk, Weiss polished Myrtenaster, and Yang sprawled lazily across her sheets. Ruby, however, sat cross-legged on the floor, notebook open, eyes glued to the Knight.

"Ca-can I have your weapon?" Ruby leaned forward.

Ruby’s silver eyes caught it—shadows curling, faint glimmers of white light threading through them. The Knight seemed to rearrange. Invisible trinkets, charms that weren’t there yet somehow were, settling into place.

When the distortion ended, Ruby noticed his weapon.

The once-simplistic nail now gleamed brilliantly, sharper than steel, longer than before. Its edge reflected the dorm’s lamplight like liquid silver. Something about it sang in Ruby’s soul—an artistry that even the best weaponsmiths in Vale could never replicate.

Ruby scrambled closer, eyes wide as saucers. “Ohmygoshohmygosh—is that it?! Is that your weapon? Wait—was that always your weapon?!”

The Knight sat silently, lifting the Pure Nail with careful, reverent steadiness.

Ruby squealed, Crescent Rose forgotten beside her. “That’s amazing! Look at the craftsmanship—the edge, the symmetry, it’s like a spear and a sword had a beautiful baby!”

Yang snorted. “Only you would call a knife a beautiful baby, sis.”

Weiss, however, eyed the blade carefully. “That is no ordinary weapon. I don’t recognize the metal… and the way it refracts light—almost like it doesn’t belong in this world.”

Ruby leaned even closer, practically vibrating with excitement. “Can I—uh—maybe—touch it? Just for a second?”

The Knight tilted its mask toward her. For a heartbeat, the air grew heavy again—like the moment Ruby had tried to touch his mask. But then, after a pause, he lowered the Pure Nail across his tiny palms, presenting it.

Ruby gasped. “He’s letting me!”

She reached out carefully, fingertips brushing the flat of the blade. It was impossibly smooth, and yet, beneath the polish, she could feel… something. A hum, faint but undeniable, like the heartbeat of a star buried deep inside the metal.

Ruby’s breath caught. “This isn’t just a weapon… it’s alive.”

The Knight remained silent, watching her.

Blake finally set down her book, her amber eyes narrowing. “No… not alive. It’s carrying something. Energy. Maybe the same thing you felt in him before.”

Ruby nodded slowly, still transfixed. “Soul.”

Weiss frowned. “Weapons don’t have souls.”

Ruby hugged the Pure Nail closer to her, awe in her expression. “This one does. At least remnants of it.”

For a moment, she could almost see it—shadows curling around the blade, an unseen history etched into its edge. The echoes of Nailmasters who had taught the vessel, the countless battles fought, the gods it had struck down. The weight of an entire forgotten world, condensed into steel.

Her silver eyes shimmered faintly. The Knight reclaimed the weapon gently, returning it to his side. He stood then, mask tilted slightly toward Ruby—as though acknowledging her wonder, but never speaking.

Yang chuckled, breaking the tension. “Great. As if you weren’t obsessed enough with Crescent Rose, now you’re cheating on her with Bugsy’s nail.”

Ruby blushed furiously. “I’m not cheating! Crescent Rose will always be my baby! This is just—this is like—like meeting a celebrity weapon!”

Weiss muttered, “You’re insufferable.”

But Ruby didn’t hear her. She was still staring at the Pure Nail, and the silent figure who wielded it. Something deep in her gut told her this wasn’t just another weapon… it was a key.

***

And far within the vessel’s hollow being, charms hummed.

Void Heart. Unbreakable Strength. Quick Slash. Mark of Pride. Steady Body. Nailmaster’s Glory.

They whispered in silence, a build honed not for survival, but for mastery. For the cutting of gods.

The vessel did not think. Did not speak. Did not will.

It simply prepared.

Chapter 9: The Dance of the Nail

Combat class had barely begun before students started whispering.

The Knight’s last duel had already become legend. The “little Grimm” that beat Nora Valkyrie? Everyone wanted to see it again.

Professor Goodwitch silenced the murmurs with a sharp tap of her riding crop. “Today’s sparring matches will continue. Our next bout will be… the Knight.”

The students buzzed instantly, heads turning toward the small, silent figure standing near Ruby.

Ruby whispered eagerly, “You’ve got this! Show them your new build!” She wasn’t sure he understood, but when the Knight stepped forward, cloak fluttering faintly, she swore he moved differently—lighter, sharper, with a strange assurance.

Glynda’s eyes narrowed. He feels stronger than before…

The opponent chosen this time was a second-year volunteer, cocky and eager to prove himself. He swung a long glaive across his shoulders, grinning. “Guess I’m about to squash a bug.”

The duel began.

***

The second-year lunged first, glaive whistling through the air. The Knight dashed forward—faster than before, his movements a blur. Quick Slash turned his strikes into a storm, each one ringing against the glaive with unnerving precision.

The student staggered back, surprised. “What the—?!”

Then the Knight leapt, cloak flaring, and with both hands on the Pure Nail, executed his first Nail Art. Nailmaster's Glory shined with power of nail that slained the strongest.

Great Slash.

The blade howled through the air, an arc of raw force that sent the student sliding across the floor, aura flickering. Gasps erupted from the watching students.

Yang sat forward, eyes wide. “Whoa. Did he just… throw a slash?!”

Ruby’s eyes sparkled. “That was amazing!!”

Weiss furiously typed into her scroll, muttering, “That was… just pure mastery, techinque executed perfectly.”

The second-year roared, regaining his footing, and spun his glaive with aura-powered momentum. He swung in wide sweeps, trying to catch the tiny opponent.

But the Knight had no wasted movement. Mark of Pride extended his reach, Steady Body held his strikes firm, and Unbreakable Strength turned each blow into a hammer of precision.

Then, as the glaive came down, the Knight dropped into a low crouch. Strength pulsating in his dark body—

Dash Slash.

He blurred forward, nail glowing with condensed power, and struck with terrifying force. The glaive spun from the student’s hands, clattering to the floor.

The crowd gasped again.

Before the boy could recover, the Knight raised the Pure Nail, charging with unearthly calm. His body stilled for an instant, then surged.

Cyclone Slash.

The Pure Nail spun in a whirlwind, each strike blinding-fast, battering the second-year’s aura shield until it shattered with a sharp crack. He collapsed to the floor, breathless, utterly defeated.

Silence filled the room.

The Knight lowered his weapon. No victory pose. No celebration. Just quiet, stillness.

Glynda raised her hand sharply. “Match concluded. Winner: the Knight.”

The silence shattered into excited shouts, the students buzzing in disbelief.

“Did you see that slash?!”
“What was that spin move?!”
“That wasn’t aura, that was—what even was that?!”

Ruby ran up, bouncing on her heels. “That was incredible!! You were so fast, and the techniques—they were so clean, so smooth—where did you even learn that?!”

The Knight tilted its mask toward her, silent as ever.

Ruby’s smile softened. She knew he wouldn’t answer. But the way he stood, cloak still fluttering faintly around him, she couldn’t help but feel… proud.

***

The charms pulsed. Void Heart. Unbreakable Strength. Quick Slash. Mark of Pride. Steady Body. Nailmaster’s Glory.

Each one resonated, harmonizing with the vessel’s silence, sharpening his mastery. The arts of Nailmasters long dead echoed in his form, unbroken, eternal.

He had once slain gods. He had once nearly ascended to Shadow’s throne.

Now, weakened, chained, he danced again.

And all of Beacon could only stare.

Chapter 10: Students of the Nail

Word spread like wildfire after the Knight’s last sparring match. By the next morning, Beacon students weren’t whispering about him anymore—they were imitating him.

***

In the training yard, a crowd had gathered. Jaune stood in the center, gripping his sword in both hands.

“Okay, so it’s like this, right? You crouch down, charge up, and then—” He swung wildly, putting all his weight behind it. The blade slipped from his sweaty hands and went clattering across the ground.

Nora burst out laughing. “Pffft—Jauney-boy! That’s not a Great Slash, that’s a Great Drop!”

Ruby zipped around excitedly with her notebook, scribbling furiously. “No, no, no—you have to hold the stance first, really focus your energy! It’s like… it’s like the weapon breathes before it strikes!”

Weiss groaned from the sidelines. “You sound insane. Weapons don’t breathe.”

Ruby turned on her heel. “HIS does!” She pointed dramatically at the Knight, who was sitting cross-legged on the grass, Pure Nail balanced perfectly in his tiny hands.

The Knight made no move to teach, no gesture to demonstrate. He simply… existed. Watching.

***

Nora, of course, was the next to try. She planted Magnhild into the ground, crouched low, and screamed, “DAAAASH SLAAAASH!” before blasting herself forward with a grenade jump.

The explosion launched her halfway across the field, landing her in a crater of dirt and smoke. She popped up seconds later, grinning ear to ear. Yang shouted “You really nailed it!”

Ren sighed. “That was not the technique.”

Yang leaned against a tree, snickering. “I dunno, looked pretty effective to me.”

***

Even Blake had been tempted. She stood off to the side, Myrtenaster borrowed from Weiss for balance exercises. She tried the controlled sweep of the Great Slash, her motions calm, precise… but when she released the strike, it was simply a sharp cut through the air. Nothing more.

She lowered the blade, frowning. “There’s something missing.”

Ruby leaned in. "You need to give your whole soul to the strike." she whispered reverently.

Blake gave her a look. “…You’re getting weird, Ruby.”

***

Velvet was never good at anything really except from coping that is. Even her semblance allowed her to copy someone moves. She thought she was pretty good at it until she tried to copy moves of tiny creature, being teased by her team leader.

She completed the stance hardlight weapon in her hands.

Quick flash.

Still not it, strike with no power behind it.

"Hmm, hmm looks like a fail to me." Coco eyes glew with sparks of fun.

"You are not helping" Velvet answered. "I don't even know why doesn't it work"

***

By afternoon, half the class was trying it. Students shouted “Cyclone Slash!” while spinning clumsily, tripping over themselves in dizzy piles. Yang filmed it all on her scroll, cackling the entire time.

Ruby crouched down and quetly said. "Can you do it again please?"

The Knight finally stood. Silent. Still. Then, without ceremony, he lifted the Pure Nail.

The air shifted.

In a single fluid motion, he executed Great Slash, the arc of his strike humming through the training yard with unnatural resonance. The grass bent under the unseen force. Silence fell over the students.

Then, just as smoothly, he dashed low and unleashed Dash Slash, the ground carving faint lines in his wake. Before anyone could blink, the Pure Nail spun in a Cyclone Slash, strikes blurring so fast they sounded like one continuous note.

When the vessel stopped, lowering his weapon, the students could only stare.

Ruby’s notebook slipped from her hands. “…I’ll never be that cool.”

Yang elbowed her. “Not with that attitude.”

Weiss muttered under her breath. “Impossible. No one could replicate that.”

But in her heart, Ruby didn’t feel discouraged. She felt inspired. And she swore she saw the Knight tilt his head—just slightly—toward her, as though to say… try anyway.

Chapter 11: Master arts

Ozpin’s office was quiet again. The only sound was the steady ticking of the great clock, the faint hum of Vale’s lights through the window. Glynda stood at his side, arms folded, gaze sharp as always.

“You saw it too,” she said finally. “Those… techniques. They weren’t aura projections. They weren’t semblance-based. And yet they struck like Dust-infused weapons.”

Ozpin sipped his coffee, eyes thoughtful. “Yes. I saw.”

Ozpin set the mug aside and rested both hands on his cane. His gaze lingered on the memory of the Knight standing in silence after the duel, Pure Nail lowered without pride or fury. "Arts."

Glynda blinked. “…Arts?”

The echo of laughter from the training yard still lingered in Glynda’s mind as she stood in Ozpin’s office.

She set her riding crop on the desk with a sharp tap. “They’ve all tried, Ozpin. Dozens of them. None could replicate it. Not even Pyrrha Nikos.”

Ozpin’s green eyes lifted from his mug, quiet but focused. “Ah."

“Not even her.” Glynda’s voice was clipped, decisive. “That alone should tell us much.”

Ozpin swirled his coffee slowly, gaze distant. “It tells me… that these techniques are not tricks, nor improvisations to be mimicked."

Ozpin rose from his chair, cane tapping softly against the stone floor. He paced toward the great clock, watching its hands crawl steadily across the face.

“Every culture,” he said slowly, “has its warriors. Some train their bodies to perfection. Others hone their aura to unnatural precision." He paused, his eyes narrowing. "Some hold sword in thier hands from the moment their born giving every bit of their soul to it, they give their whole life to this and nothing else."

He turned, meeting Glynda’s gaze. “Do you understand what that means?”

She nodded grimly. "Not one student in Beacon could imitate them. Not even with aura, semblance, or Dust.”

Ozpin leaned on his cane. “Exactly. They require more than strength. More than discipline. They require something else. Something most of us cannot grasp.”

Glynda’s lips thinned. “And yet he wields not one… but all three.”

Ozpin’s eyes darkened. He said nothing for a long time, his thoughts lost in the ticking of the clock. Finally, he spoke, voice low: "Most who devoted their whole life to one single craft. A single technique. Still rarely achieve mastery." He tapped his cane once against the stone. “Yet the Knight… carries all three."

The weight of the words hung heavy.

Glynda clenched her jaw. “Then what you’re saying is—”

“I am saying,” Ozpin interrupted gently, “that these Nail Arts are far too difficult. Far too… pure. Even if a human could spend a lifetime attempting them, they might learn one. Perhaps. But all three?” He shook his head slowly. “No. I don't belive that."

He turned back to the window, his reflection cast faintly in the glass. “The Knight is more than a curiosity. More than a pet that follows Miss Rose. He is a bearer of impossible legacies. And I fear such creature.”

***

Ruby sat cross-legged on her bed, Crescent Rose beside her, watching the Knight polish his Pure Nail in silence.

She grinned. “You know… I think you’re the coolest teammate ever. Weiss gets all grumpy about it, but… I think you’re amazing. You make impossible stuff look so… easy.”

The Knight did not answer. He did not think, did not will.

But deep within memories of masters who teached him this techniques.

Great Slash.
Dash Slash.
Cyclone Slash.

He bore them all. Because he was hollow. Because he was void.

Because he was the Knight.

Chapter 12: Remebrence

It began during a routine combat exercise. Professor Goodwitch had set up a simulation with Grimm constructs, their forms conjured from her glyphs. The students were used to it — a chance to sharpen their skills in a safe, controlled environment.

Ruby’s team spread out across the arena, Crescent Rose gleaming in her hands. Yang cracked her knuckles, Weiss stood poised with her rapier, and Blake had already vanished into the shadows.

And the Knight… simply waited.

The Grimm illusions charged.

Weiss unleashed a line of glyphs, Yang barreled forward, Ruby dashed and spun. The Knight, silent and still, finally moved — Pure Nail flashing as he cleaved through an Ursa’s mask in a single strike.

But then Glynda altered the simulation, a Beowolf lunging from behind toward Ruby.

“Ruby!” Weiss shouted.

Ruby whirled too late. The Grimm’s claws came down —

—And in that moment, the Knight shifted.

For the first time since arriving in Remnant, the void stirred. The black cloak at his shoulders rippled, warping with a soundless pulse of shadow. His form blurred — half-there, half-gone — as the Beowolf’s claws passed directly through him.

Ruby’s silver eyes widened as the Knight reappeared behind the Grimm, whole and unharmed. In the same motion, he brought the Pure Nail down, severing the construct cleanly in two.

The shadows folded back into him. Silence returned.

The room froze.

Ruby blinked. “D-Did you guys just see that?!”

Yang pointed, slack-jawed. “He just—he just went ghost mode!”

Blake’s ears twitched, her amber eyes narrowing. “No… it wasn’t speed. It wasn’t invisibility. He… phased.”

The Knight said nothing. He only stood still, his cloak faintly trailing with blackened wisps before settling back normal.

***

Ozpin’s cane tapped against the floor as Glynda paced beside him.

“Did you see it, Ozpin?” she demanded. "He doesn't have aura. Then it wasn't a semblance. He let an attack pass through his body.”

Ozpin’s expression was unreadable as he looked out over Vale’s glittering lights. “…Yes.”

He sipped his coffee, slow and steady, though his hand trembled slightly as he set the mug back down. “That was no mortal defense. It was not aura’s shield, nor semblance’s trick. That was… something else.”

“Else?” Glynda echoed.

Ozpin’s eyes narrowed. “A cloak born from shadow itself. A power that rejects form, rejects substance. To move not through space, but through it absence.” He paused, gripping his cane tighter. “A technique that should not exist."

Glynda’s lips pressed into a line. “Then what does it mean?”

Ozpin looked to the window, his voice low. “It means that piece by piece, god is destroying it's chains."

***

Ruby sat at the edge of her bed, eyes shining as she leaned toward the Knight.

“You were amazing today. You—you saved me! You turned into, like… shadow stuff! Can you teach me how to do that?!”

The Knight tilted his head.

Ruby pouted. “…Right. No talking.” She brightened anyway, bouncing slightly. “But still! That was so cool! You’ve got secrets, huh?”

The Knight didn’t move. Didn’t answer. But inside, the Void pulsed.

A piece of it lost power restored.
A step closer to what it had once been.
A step closer… to what it might become again.

***

The training grounds were quiet, the air heavy after another long day. Team RWBY lingered after class, Ruby eager to squeeze in just a little more practice.

“Okay, one more time!” Ruby shouted, vaulting high with Crescent Rose’s recoil. She landed on her feet but stumbled forward with a laugh. “See? I’m getting better at landing!”

Yang clapped slowly. “You didn’t eat dirt. I’ll count it.”

Weiss sighed and checked the time. “If you break your legs again, don’t expect me to haul you back to the infirmary.”

Ruby stuck her tongue out. “You’re no fun.”

The Knight, as always, stood silently on the far end of the arena. His mask tilted upward toward the tall training pillars. His cloak shifted faintly, as though stirred by a breeze no one else could feel.

Ruby noticed first. “Oh? You wanna try too?”

The Knight moved. He stepped forward, bent his knees… and leapt.

For a heartbeat it was ordinary. A single bound, his tiny form rising into the air.

But then—

Shhhhhhhh.

From his back unfurled a sudden shimmer. Ethereal wings of translucent matter, like glass catching moonlight. They flashed once, impossibly bright, and with a second beat he soared higher — higher than any human should.

Ruby’s mouth fell open. “H-He—he double-jumped!”

Yang barked a laugh. “No way. That’s cheating! You can't just keep getting abilities from thin air!”

Blake’s eyes narrowed. Her voice was quiet. “They looked… alive. And not like his last power.”

The Knight landed soundlessly, wings gone as if they had never been. He stood in silence again, mask blank, cloak pooling around him.

Ruby practically bounced with excitement. “Ohmygosh! That was AMAZING! You have—have wings! Real wings! Do it again!”

The Knight didn’t move.

***

Ruby sat cross-legged on her bed, staring dreamily at the Knight perched on the windowsill.

“You know,” she said softly, “when you flew… for a second, it felt like you weren’t from this world at all. Like you came from someplace really, really far away.”

The Knight tilted his head toward her. Silent.

Ruby smiled. “Doesn’t matter. You’re here now. And that’s what counts.”

The vessel gave no reply. But within the void, the echo of wings shimmered faintly, a memory of light intertwined with darkness.

Born of Void and Wyrm.
Carrying legacies not meant for this world.

Chapter 13: Dreams

The night was calm.
Moonlight spilled through the tall windows of Beacon Academy, painting the dormitories in pale silver. Team RWBY slept soundly: Ruby curled against Crescent Rose, Yang snoring softly, Weiss perfectly composed even in rest, and Blake’s ears twitching as she dreamed.

But one bed was empty.

The Knight stood at the center of the room, cloak stirring faintly. His Pure Nail pulsed with pale glow, the faint hum of the Dream Nail echoing like a heartbeat. The dorm was silent. He raised the Dream Nail, the shimmer spilling across his mask—

Shhhhhhhhhh.

And then he was gone.

***

The world warped. No longer stone walls and wooden beds, but endless fields of fog and whispers. Remnant’s dream-realm stretched before him, strange and uncharted. Unlike Hallownest’s dreamers, this place was… restless. Flickering with images and emotions that did not belong to him.

He drifted soundlessly across shifting shadows, each step rippling the ground like water. The air was thick with voices, fragments of countless minds all sleeping beneath Beacon’s roof.

—Not strong enough, I’ll never lead—
—He’ll be proud of me this time, I know it—
—Don’t look at me, don’t see the Faunus—
—I’ll protect them all, no matter what it takes—

Familiar voices. His team. Their hearts laid bare.

But the Knight did not linger. He moved deeper, searching. Hunting.

***

The first presence he found was not like the others.

It stood in the mist: a figure clad in training armor, faceless, wavering, but burning with stubborn determination. It was no true Dream Warrior… yet something in this world had forged echoes that fought even in sleep.

The Knight raised the Dream Nail. The figure turned, head tilting toward him—then rushed forward, striking with illusory sword.

Clash!

The Knight met it, Pure Nail against dreamsteel. Sparks of light scattered across the fog. The echo pressed hard, a fragment of ambition unwilling to fade. But the Knight’s blade was honed by Void itself. He slashed, and the dream warrior shattered into motes of fading light.

The mist grew still again.

The Knight lowered his blade. His cloak rippled. This world had warriors, yes… but they were only shadows of themselves. No true Dream Warriors yet.

***

Morning sunlight streamed into the dorm. Ruby rubbed her eyes and yawned, stretching.

“Mmmnn… morning guys…”

She sat up, blinking groggily at her teammates. Yang still asleep. Weiss already awake and brushing her hair. Blake half-hidden in her book. Knight sitting at the edge of her bed like he didn't move a bit.

***

The headmaster stirred suddenly in his sleep, green eyes snapping open behind his glasses. He sat up at his desk, sweat beading at his temple.

He had dreamed.

No — he had been watched.

And deep inside, fear twisted in his chest once again.

***

The Knight wandered deeper through the dream-mist.
Beacon’s students’ echoes faded behind him, their thoughts dissolving into distant whispers. Ahead, the fog grew denser, heavy with power not of ordinary soul.

Something pulled him.

A soft, golden shimmer pierced the gloom. Unlike the fleeting fragments of students’ ambition, this presence was vast—yet broken. Fading. He followed without hesitation, each step soundless upon the shifting dreamfloor.

And then he saw her.

She floated above the ground, not truly standing, not truly sleeping. Her body lay encased in pale light, hair flowing as if underwater. The flame of the Maiden flickered faintly around her, licking out in broken bursts gold and orange, but she was fractured, incomplete.

The Knight tilted his mask. Landscape around him suddenly switched.

The fog shattered into fire. The Knight found himself standing in a vast field, flames dancing across the horizon. But half of it was dark—ashen, cold, eaten away by shadow.

Woman stood in the center, her figure flickering like a candle about to die. She clutched her chest, breathing hard, one eye bright gold, the other dull.

She looked up at the Knight as though she could truly see him. “…Who… are you?”

The vessel remained silent.

Her expression wavered between relief and despair. “Another dream…? No. You’re… real. You shouldn’t be here.”

The ground split, and from the ashen half surged a jagged shape—burning like fire but blackened, twisted. A shadow, its eyes sharp and cruel. It lashed toward woman.

She cried out. “Not again!”

The Knight leapt forward. His Pure Nail flashed with white arc. The dream-shadow recoiled, shrieking, then lunged again. The vessel struck once more, steady and unyielding. Each clash pushed the corruption back.

Woman’s eyes widened as she watched the small figure fight without hesitation. “…You’re protecting me…”

The shadow shattered at last, dissolving into smoke. The dreamfire steadied—still broken, but no longer under attack.

Woman fell to her knees, trembling. “…She stole half of it. Half of me. I… can’t hold on much longer.”

The Knight stood before her. Silent. Waiting.

Woman reached a hand toward him, her fingers shaking. “Please… whoever you are… if you can reach me in this prison of sleep… protect them. Them all."

Her voice cracked, fading into embers. Her figure disappeared.

Knight raised Dream nail and striked

***

The Knight snapped back into existence in a darkened chamber, not the dorm. Machines hummed softly. Curtains shut out the moonlight. And there—lying motionless on the bed—was woman.

Her chest rose and fell shallowly. Her body matched what he had seen in the dream.

The Knight tilted his head.

The door creaked faintly outside. Footsteps. Ozpin’s voice, quiet but heavy: “…Check her vitals, Glynda. I've gotten signaled that they are unstable.”

The Knight melted into shadow, cloak pulling him into silence.

***

Ozpin and Glynda entered.
Amber lay as she always had, unconscious, her flame weak.

Glynda adjusted the monitors with clinical precision. “Stable. No change.”

Ozpin gazed at her long, expression unreadable. Yet inside, his heart was unsettled. He had felt it—that ripple in the dream. A disturbance. A presence that was not his own.

***

Cinder raised from her bed covered in sweat.

Pain pulsated through her head. A nightmare like none other.

Chapter 14: Dead dreamer

Ruby lay in bed, eyes shut, pretending to sleep.

She wasn’t.

For nights now, she’d felt it — the faint stir, the hush of fabric, the strange glow that made her eyelids twitch. The Knight would rise when everyone else slumbered. And when morning came, he was always back in his spot, silent as ever.

But Ruby wasn’t a child anymore. She was a Huntress-in-training. And Huntresses follow leads.

So tonight, she waited.

At last, she heard it: the almost inaudible scrape as the Knight slipped off his bed. The faint hum of energy, like glass against steel, as he raised that strange, glowing nail.

Ruby sat up instantly, heart pounding. “Not this time,” she whispered, slipping Crescent Rose onto her back.

Ruby cracked an eye. Her breath caught. The world rippled, shadows pulling into him she quickly placed her hand on him—

—and then they were gone.

***

New landscape caught her eye. Many levitating islands over golden clouds, strange, round patterns was scattered around, even the grass looked different.

"Where- Where are we? What is this place?" Ruby's eyes drifted towards little finger near her.

Knight looked at her and tilted his head like inviting her to investigate.

Ruby runned to the center of the island they were standing on. Three figueres were floating there.

Yang, Weiss and Blake. Ruby quickly noticed that Blake's bow wasn't on her instead she had two cat ears.

"No, no-no-no, this is bad Blake defenetly has a reason to hide it, I wasn't supposed to know this." Ruby mumbled quickly getting to the Knight who was still standing in a distance.

"We need to get out of there fast, this has some private information." Ruby said pointing at figures of her team members.

Knight looked at her then turned around and walked away then turned his head now inviting her to follow him.

***

Ruby followed her little guide. It seemed that they treaveled through this place for so long. Until he finally stopped.

Landscape around her feeled unfamiliar it didn't look like any other place here.

Woman was at the centre of huge dark island, she was bleeding, covered in wounds the shadowy figure, it's outlines seemed familiar to Ruby however she still didn't know who is that, one other thing she noticed is that woman felt too real not like other people she had seen there.

A blade appeared in the hand of shadow it was trying to cut off woman's head, Ruby's first reflex was to unleash her weapon and take a shot at shadow. It turned around facing her.

Shadow dashed at her quickly closing distance, when she almost landed her strike Knight's nail parried it, getting her out of balance. Ruby used her semblance to gain her sniper advantage back.

Knight fought the shadow in the duel while Ruby tried to see when and where she sould land her shot. The battlefield looked like hell itself the fire covered everything around but Knight still dodged and even landed some strikes on shadow.

Shadow looked completely raged, she had forgotten about Ruby's existence.

Now. It's time to strike.

Bullet flew piercing the air. A disgusting sound. Shadow's torso was pierced through. It started evaporating.

Ruby got the woman.

"I am sorry..." Woman's head fell down as the spark of life disappered from her eyes.

The dreamscape around Ruby and Knight strated to shake, little dark arm touched her back while her face full of tears raised, a moment after light covered everything around her.

***

Now they were at some laboratory, Knight's nail still glowing pink, door opend into Ruby's face, causing her to fall.

Ozpin rashed towards strange mechanism, compleatly ignoring Ruby on the floor and Knight standing beside her. "Glynda she is dying, we can't allow this, not the full maiden power." A long peep froze Ozpin at place his, expression darkend.

Woman's body burned until only ashes of it remained.

Ozpin finally turned to Ruby still laying on the ground. "Miss Rose, what happened there? Could you please explain?"

Ruby crawled away a little. "Knight showed me place not like any other, this woman-", "Please call her Amber." "Amber was there, shadow attacked her, when we met her, she already was bleeding out, we killed shadow, then she died, as landscape around us destabilized Knight teleported us here."

Ozpin turned to Knight. “…So. You’ve found her.” His face showed anger.

The Knight stood unmoving, mask reflecting the dim light of the machines.

Ruby shot to her feet. “Wait! Don’t hurt him! He only tried to help her!”

Ozpin tilted his eyes to her, his exprassion calmed. "...Sigh. This is very bad situation miss Rose, you don't even understand what you did there, you didn't know what you were getting involved into, be more careful next time, now get to your team, you don't have much time until sunrise, Glynda help them find a way out."

Glynda quickly followed two figures, as door shut behind them.

Ruby was back at her teams dorm in no time, Knight stood beside her.

***

Glynda entered Ozpin office slamming the door. Her rage exprassion met the Ozpin's back. "How could you allow this, maiden is dead, and all it's power is now in Salem's hands!"

Ozpin took a sip from his mug. "I no longer fear opponent's queen, when the new piece entered the board, Knight is far more powerful than I ever imagined and I have no strategy for him, that what we should be worried of."

Ozpin took one more sip in complete silence of the room.

Chapter 15: Runes in the Dark

Ruby lay awake in the dorm, Crescent Rose leaning against her bed.
Her team slept peacefully — Weiss buried under blankets, Blake reading until her candle burned out, Yang sprawled across her bed, snoring like thunder.

But Ruby’s eyes kept drifting to the Knight, sitting perfectly still atop his sheets.
Unmoving. Silent. Watching.

Her chest tightened. She couldn’t stop thinking about Amber, and about how the Knight had stood there.

And she needed to know why.

She sat up, tugged on her cloak, and padded over.

“Hey,” Ruby whispered.

The Knight tilted his mask slightly toward her.

She hesitated, then held out a notebook and pen. “If you… can’t talk… maybe you can write? Please? I just… I want to understand you better.”

The Knight took the notebook without hesitation. His small claw held the pen awkwardly — but steadily.

Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

He handed it back.

Ruby blinked down at the page.

Strange, curling symbols sprawled across the paper. Shapes that almost resembled letters, but not in any language she knew. They shimmered faintly.

“Uh…” Ruby tilted her head, squinting. “Is this… uh… bug-ese?”

The Knight sat, silent.

Ruby pouted, tapping the page. “I don’t get it! You understand me — I know you do! You follow orders, you react when I talk… but when you write…”

She sighed, hugging the notebook to her chest. “You’re trying, right? That’s what matters.”

***

The Knight tilted his head again. For the smallest moment, the void inside him stirred. He wrote again, slower this time.

One line.

The runes pulsed. Faded. And then, for a split second, Ruby’s silver eyes caught something different. The runes shifted, becoming words she could almost read.

Born of God and Void.

Ruby gasped softly. Her eyes flicked to the Knight, who had already turned the page back, the symbols settling once more into incomprehensible script.

“…Okay,” Ruby whispered, clutching the notebook tight. “It's… way more complicated than I thought.”

She smiled softly. “But that’s okay. I’ll figure it out. Even if your words look like scribbles to me… I’ll learn.”

The Knight sat still, his mask reflecting her smile back in silence.

***

Ruby tucked the notebook under her pillow before curling back up in bed. She whispered to herself as her eyes grew heavy:

"Uhhh, this is nonsense." Her eyes closed on their own as she did everything to not fall asleep. " I can't understand a word."

***

Ruby sat cross-legged on her bed, notebook open, tongue poking out in concentration. Pages upon pages of curling runes sprawled across it. Every night, the Knight had humored her, scratching down strange shapes with patient silence.

Every night, she tried to puzzle them out.

And every night, she failed.

So, finally, she snapped. “Okay, Weiss! I give up!”

Weiss Schnee looked up from her pristine stack of homework. “You what?”

Ruby shoved the notebook at her. “You’re good with languages, right? Like, all of them? I need help. This is Knight-speak, and it’s not making sense!”

Weiss rolled her eyes, but curiosity got the better of her. She plucked the notebook delicately from Ruby’s hands. Her gaze scanned the runes once… twice… and then narrowed.

“…This isn’t any language spoken in Remnant.”

Ruby pouted. “Yeah, I figured. But you’re Weiss! You’re supposed to be smart!”

“I am smart,” Weiss huffed, “but being smart doesn’t mean I can just magically decipher chicken-scratch from another dimension!” She flipped a page anyway, frowning. “…Though, I will admit… this patterning is strangely consistent. These are structured symbols, not gibberish.”

The Knight sat motionless on his bed, watching them with unreadable patience.

Ruby leaned closer, wide-eyed. “So… you think it’s a real language?”

Weiss sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “…Yes. Which means if I can’t figure it out, we’ll need a specialist.”

***

“THIS IS EXTRAORDINARY!!”

Doctor Oobleck’s voice rang through the library like a gunshot.

Ruby shushed frantically. “Professor! Keep it down!”

“DOWN?!” Oobleck waved the notebook wildly, nearly spilling his thermos. “Miss Rose, Miss Schnee, what you’ve brought me is a linguistic anomaly! An entire system of runes, elegant in their structure yet utterly alien to Remnant’s documented tongues! I must cross-reference this with my archives immediately! AH, what joy, what discovery!”

Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose. “I regret this already.”

Ruby grinned sheepishly. “But you’re interested, right?”

“INTERESTED?!” Oobleck slammed the notebook down on a table already covered in open books. “I am thrilled! Look at this! Curved strokes reminiscent of ancient Mistrali glyphs, yet constructed with the repetition of Valean battle-cant! And this—this one!” He jabbed at a rune Knight had written the night before. “It appears to SHIFT if you look at it too long! Fascinating! Simply fascinating!”

Ruby and Weiss leaned in. Sure enough, the symbol seemed to shimmer faintly, as though alive.

Ruby whispered, “Knight… is it supposed to do that?”

The Knight tilted his mask slightly, but gave no reply.

Oobleck scribbled furiously. “The very essence of these runes may not be merely linguistic, but metaphysical! They may bridge soul, will, and the very nature of communication itself!”

Ruby whispered to Weiss. “Translation: he has no clue either.”

Weiss smirked despite herself. “For once, I agree with you.”

But Ruby couldn’t help smiling as she peeked at the Knight. Even if nobody else understood his words yet… she’d figure it out. One way or another.

The Knight, for his part, wrote one more rune in the notebook before setting the pen down. The faint glow of the Dream Nail pulsed as if in rhythm.

The symbol shimmered for just a moment… then rearranged itself into something Ruby did recognize.

One word.

“King.”

Ruby’s breath caught. She grinned, eyes bright. “…We’re getting there.”

***

Professor Oobleck practically exploded into Ozpin’s office, thermos in one hand, Ruby’s notebook clutched in the other.

“Headmaster! Glynda! You must hear this! You must!”

Ozpin looked up calmly from behind his desk, fingers folded neatly over his cane. “Ah. Bartholomew. You seem rather more… animated than usual.”

“If you had seen what I have seen, you would be animated as well!” Oobleck snapped, slamming the notebook onto the desk. “A student—Miss Rose, to be precise—has presented me with evidence of an entirely undocumented language system! Elegant, consistent, and wholly alien to our archives!”

Glynda arched a brow, glancing at the notebook. “Another student doodle?”

“DOODLE?!” Oobleck looked scandalized. “This, Glynda, is no doodle. Observe these curves! These repetitions! Each symbol appears to shimmer with meaning, refusing to sit still under the eye, and yet—yet!—when cross-referenced with our oldest surviving linguistic codices, there is nothing! No root, no precedent! This is beyond Remnant’s recorded tongues!”

Ozpin’s expression did not change, but his eyes lingered on the notebook for a fraction longer than usual. “…And who, precisely, wrote this?”

“Ah!” Oobleck spun dramatically. “That would be Miss Rose’s… peculiar companion. The so-called ‘Knight.’”

Glynda’s lips pressed thin. “Of course.”

***

Ozpin opened the notebook, scanning the runes. For an instant, his silver-green eyes shimmered faintly behind his glasses. To him, the symbols almost seemed to shift.

“…Curious,” he murmured.

“Curious?!” Oobleck barked. “Ozpin, this represents an unprecedented discovery! A new linguistic branch, untouched by history! A cipher, perhaps even a metaphysical script tied to aura itself! Why, some of these markings seem to resist translation! I dare say they may not be words in the strictest sense, but conduits of—”

“—Soul,” Ozpin finished quietly.

Oobleck froze. “...Pardon?”

Ozpin’s gaze lingered on one rune in particular, one that seemed to shimmer faintly even beneath his steady eyes. He touched it lightly with a gloved finger. The page rippled, as though reality itself flinched from the contact.

He closed the notebook gently, sliding it back across the desk. “Thank you, Bartholomew. That will be all.”

“All?” Oobleck sputtered. “But Headmaster, this warrants deeper study—”

“It does,” Ozpin interrupted, still calm, “but not by you.”

The silence was sharp. Glynda’s eyes flicked between them, uneasy.

Finally, Oobleck huffed, adjusting his glasses. “…Very well. But mark my words, Ozpin. Whatever hand has penned these runes… it is not human.”

He left in a whirl of green.

***

When the door closed, Glynda crossed her arms. “You’re worried.”

Ozpin’s fingers tapped once against his cane. "... This runes I saw something like them before. Long time ago, when gods still walked Remnant."

His eyes drifted toward the tower window, to the distant moon.

Glynda’s voice was low, taut. “What are you saying?”

Ozpin leaned back, glasses flashing. “I am saying… that we must be very careful.”

Chapter 16: Scribbles and Shadows

Ruby bounded across the dorm, nearly tripping over Yang’s discarded boots. “Yang! Blake! Look, look, look!”

Yang stretched, half awake, her hair in a tangled mess. “What’s got you bouncing, Rubes? Did you and Weiss finally invent bug-Sudoku?”

Ruby puffed her cheeks. “It’s not Sudoku! It’s Knight-speak!” She thrust the notebook into Yang’s face.

Yang blinked at the twisting symbols, one eye squinting. “Uh… sweetie? This looks like my handwriting during finals week.”

Ruby groaned, pulling it back. “You’re not supposed to get it! But look, they’re all consistent! And last night—” she flipped to the page with the faintly shimmering rune “—he actually wrote something I could understand! It said king!"

Yang’s smirk softened just a little. She ruffled Ruby’s hood. “Aww, so your creepy little shadow-bug is officially your buddy now. Cute.”

Ruby batted her hand away. “I’m serious, Yang!”

Blake, who had been reading quietly in the corner, set her book down. “Let me see.”

Ruby eagerly passed the notebook over.

Blake studied the runes, her golden eyes narrowing. “...This isn’t anything I’ve seen before. Not in Menagerie, not in Mistral. And trust me—Menagerie collects languages like treasure.”

She flipped another page, her ears twitching. “…It doesn’t feel like language. It feels… heavier. Almost like staring at a Grimm. Except it’s not hostile.”

Ruby leaned forward. “Right? Right?! It’s like… it’s more than words. Like he’s writing part of himself down.”

Yang whistled. “Well, if he starts writing my diary entries, we’ve got a problem.”

Ruby ignored her, eyes shining with excitement. “Don’t you guys get it? He wants to communicate. We just… have to keep trying!”

The Knight, perched quietly at the edge of his bed, tilted his mask toward them. He offered no comment, no sign of approval or denial.

But when Blake’s eyes lingered too long on one rune, she thought—just for a moment—that it shimmered back at her.

And in the silence between heartbeats, she swore she heard a whisper.

A vessel does not speak. But even silence can write.

She blinked, shaken. The runes returned to stillness.

“…Strange,” Blake murmured, closing the notebook. She handed it back carefully. “Ruby, just… don’t show this to anyone else.”

Ruby frowned. “Why not?”

“Because.” Blake glanced at the Knight, then away. “…Some things are harder to explain than they look.”

***

Yang smirked again, trying to lighten the tension. “So, what—you’re saying Ruby’s pet bug writes spooky poetry in his sleep?”

Blake didn’t answer.

Ruby hugged the notebook to her chest, looking at her tiny companion. “…It’s okay, Knight. I’ll figure you out. I promise.”

The Knight tilted his head, cloak rippling faintly like a sigh.

***

The Beacon tower was quiet.
Too quiet.

Ozpin dismissed his cane onto the desk and sat with the notebook Ruby had delivered into Oobleck’s hands. It waited in front of him like a coiled serpent — harmless on the surface, but ancient in a way that made his aura prickle.

He opened it.

Pages of curling runes stared back. They seemed innocent, almost playful in their arrangement, but the longer he looked, the more they shifted. Like mist moving through cracks. Like a memory refusing to stay buried.

He reached out, letting aura coil around his fingertips, and touched one of the runes.

For a heartbeat, nothing.

Then—

A ripple of force pushed through him, as though something had answered. His aura sparked against the paper like oil on water. His soul vibrated with a low hum, not painful, but heavy — so heavy.

Images flashed behind his eyes: a hollow city buried deep in stone, towers shaped like insect shells, a great throne carved for a king of nothing. And chains. Heavy, endless chains.

Ozpin gasped and pulled back, but the vision faded only reluctantly. His hand trembled.

“…Seals,” he whispered. “These aren’t merely words. They bind. They contain. Words, soul, creatures.”

He turned another page. More symbols, sharper this time. His aura brushed against them and recoiled instantly, as though some great will had pushed him away.

No mind to think. No will to break. No voice to cry suffering.

The words bled faintly into his mind.

Ozpin’s breath hitched. He slammed the book shut.

***

Moments later, Glynda’s heels clicked against the stone floor as she entered. “You called for me?”

Ozpin adjusted his glasses, hand still tight on the notebook. His usual calm was present, but thinner, stretched over unease. “…Glynda. This script. It is unlike anything I’ve encountered in this lifetime, or any before it.”

Her gaze flicked to the book. “You believe it dangerous.”

“I know it is,” Ozpin replied quietly. He looked toward the window, toward the fractured moon. “But its nature is… incomplete to me. I can sense restraint within it. Locks upon locks. Whoever — or whatever — forged this language, they did so not merely to speak, but to seal. To protect. Or perhaps to imprison.”

Glynda’s eyes narrowed. “And you think this… Knight… is tied to it.”

Ozpin did not answer at once. His hand tightened on the notebook, knuckles pale.

“…Yes. And if I am correct, Glynda… that small creature carries something within it far older than our world’s gods.”

***

The dorm was quiet after lights-out. Yang was snoring lightly, Blake was curled up with her book facedown on her chest, and Weiss had turned away with her usual stiff “I’m not asleep, I’m meditating” posture.

Ruby sat cross-legged on her bed, notebook in hand, staring at the Knight.

“Okay, buddy,” she whispered. “Tonight… we’re getting answers.”

The Knight tilted his head.

Ruby scooted closer, putting the notebook between them. “So, uhm… you’ve been hanging around me for weeks now, and I realized… I don’t even know your name. Everyone calls you Knight, but that’s not really a name, is it?”

The Knight was silent.

Ruby twirled her pen nervously. “So… what is your name?”

The Knight reached for the pen. He scratched slowly, each stroke deliberate, the faintest shimmer clinging to the page as though the Dream Nail’s essence followed the ink.

The rune resolved into three words.

I have none.

Ruby frowned. “…None? Like… you forgot it? Or you just don’t wanna tell me?”

More scratching.

No mind to think. No need of name.

Ruby’s smile faltered. That was… weird. She tapped the pen against her cheek. “But everyone has a name. Even Grimm get called something. Beowolf, Nevermore, Creepery-Creepy-Thing—” she waved vaguely. “So you must have one. What do I call you?”

The Knight paused, then wrote again. The rune felt heavier, darker than before.

Lord of Shades.

Ruby blinked. “Uh… wow. Okay. That’s… dramatic.” She tried to laugh it off, but the words scratched at her ears like whispers. “Lord of Shadows? You’re that?!”

The Knight sat motionless.

Ruby leaned in, eyes wide. “What does that even mean? Why would you call yourself that?”

Scratch. Scratch.

Not I. The void within.

Ruby’s stomach knotted. “The… void?”

The Knight continued, strokes sharper, almost trembling.

Born of God and Void. Made to contain. Made to end.

Ruby’s pen slipped from her fingers. “…Contain? End… what?”

The Knight did not answer at once. His mask tilted slightly toward her, the hollowness of his sockets catching the dim light. When he finally wrote, the runes pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat.

A Radiance that should not be.

Ruby’s throat went dry. Her hand shook as she reached for the notebook. “Radiance…? Is that… a person? A Grimm? A—”

But the Knight was already turning away, cloak curling around him like a drawn curtain.

There was no answer. Knight sat even not reacting to anything.

Chapter 17: The Weight of a Name

Ruby sat at the little desk in their dorm, notebook clutched to her chest. Her teammates were awake — Weiss meticulously polishing Myrtenaster, Blake with her nose buried in yet another book, and Yang absentmindedly tightening Ember Celica.

Ruby chewed her lip. She hadn’t planned on saying anything. But the words Lord of Shadows wouldn’t leave her alone. They pressed against her ribs like thorns.

Finally, she blurted out: “Guys… I think the Knight told me his real name.”

That got everyone’s attention.

Yang raised a brow, smirking. “Oh yeah? What is it? Sir Bugs-a-Lot?”

Ruby shook her head, her voice unusually serious. “…Lord of Shades.”

The dorm went silent. Even Blake lowered her book.

Weiss blinked. “…Excuse me?”

Ruby flipped the notebook open and pushed it toward them. The runes shimmered faintly on the page, still legible if you squinted, though none of them could quite hold the symbols in focus for long.

Yang frowned. “That’s not a name, Rubes. That’s, like… a Saturday morning cartoon villain.”

“It’s what he wrote!” Ruby insisted, her voice pitching higher. “And it wasn’t just that. He… he said he doesn’t have a name. That he doesn’t need one. He said he’s a… vessel.”

Weiss’s posture stiffened. “A vessel? For what, precisely?”

Ruby hesitated, then lowered her voice. “…He said he was made to contain something. Something called… Radiance.”

Weiss’s face went pale, her hand tightening on Myrtenaster. “Containment. Binding. That kind of language doesn’t describe something safe, Ruby. It describes a prison.”

Blake’s golden eyes narrowed. “…Radiance. That doesn’t sound like a Grimm. It sounds older. Dangerous.”

Yang, uncharacteristically serious, leaned forward. “And this… void he kept mentioning? What’s that supposed to be?”

Ruby looked down at the notebook, words scratching across her memory. Born of God and Void.

“I… I don’t know,” she admitted softly. “But he said it wasn’t really him. It’s something inside him. Something big. And I think… It's trying to break out.”

Her teammates exchanged uneasy glances.

Weiss finally spoke, her voice clipped. “Ruby. You must tell Professor Ozpin about this. Immediately.”

“No!” Ruby hugged the notebook to her chest. “If I do that, they’ll lock him up, or worse! He’s not bad! He saved Amber—he helped her, I know it! He’s not dangerous… not to us.”

Yang put a hand on Ruby’s shoulder, gentle but firm. “Ruby… if what he said is true, then something inside him is. And that means if it ever gets out, we’ll have a lot more to worry about than detention.”

Ruby’s eyes burned, but she held her ground. “I believe in him. Even if he doesn’t have a name, even if he’s… whatever he is… he’s still my teammate.”

The Knight, sitting quietly on his bed, tilted his head at her words. His mask reflected her determination back at her in silence.

Blake shivered faintly, ears twitching. She thought she heard something again, faint as a whisper at the edge of hearing.

A vessel does not choose. But it listens.

She did not say it aloud.

***

Within the Knight’s silent frame, the world shifted.

The dorm faded, the walls bleeding away into endless black. A dreamscape of void.

The Knight stood alone — mask gleaming faintly, cloak stirring in a wind that wasn’t there.

Then, the air trembled. A voice rose, not spoken but felt, reverberating through the emptiness as eight eyed figure raised for the depths:

You scratch at words for them. You pretend at names. Yet you know what you are.

The Knight’s mask tilted upward. From the darkness, a figure unfolded — taller, broader, its body a mass of void crowned with tendrils of shadow. Its eyes looked straight at him.

We are one. Vessel and Shadow. Cage and Lord.

The Knight stood, silent, unmoving.

They call you Knight. You answer as such. Yet you carry more. You carry us.

The void around them rippled, the faint impression of chains sinking into the abyss. For a moment, silence stretched — but the Lord of Shades leaned closer, voice lowering to a whisper that cracked through eternity:

Do not forget, little one. You were born not to live. You were born to end.

He leaned the Knight's tiny arm could almost touch it.

Even if you somehow restored the remnants. Old god is long dead. Remains of his power can't get to this lands. Nor flower, nor anything.

The Knight’s cloak rippled faintly — neither acceptance, nor denial.

And then the void collapsed, the dream unraveling.

The Knight awoke in his bed at Beacon, Ruby asleep across from him, clutching the notebook against her chest.

He sat motionless. But the shadows in his cloak stirred restlessly.

Chapter 18: The Shape of the Void

Combat class had started like any other. Students sparring in pairs, Professor Goodwitch watching with sharp eyes, clipboard in hand.

But all eyes soon turned to the smallest figure on the field.

The Knight.

Ruby had whispered encouragement as she nudged him toward the center ring. “Just… show them what you can do, okay?”

The Knight stood still, cloak swaying. His opponent — a third-year huntsman-in-training — smirked. “What’s this, Goodwitch? You want me to spar with a mascot?”

“Begin,” Glynda ordered curtly.

The upperclassman lunged. Fast. Aura flashing.

The Knight moved faster.

He slid beneath the strike, cloak fluttering — and then shadows rippled outward from his body. The air warped.

A sphere of writhing void blossomed around him.

The students gasped.

Ruby’s breath hitched. She had seen Crescent Rose’s strongest Dust rounds, Weiss’s glyphs, Yang’s full gauntlet barrage… but this was different. The void pulsed like it was alive, hungry.

The Knight thrust it forward.

A wave of black energy roared across the arena, searing against the floor in jagged streaks. The upperclassman’s Aura shattered instantly as he was hurled against the barrier wall, coughing in shock.

The void-ball dissolved into nothing. The Knight stood quietly, mask blank, as though nothing had happened.

The room was dead silent.

“Fascinating…” Glynda murmured under her breath, her grip tightening on her riding crop.

Ruby’s team rushed to her side, their faces reflecting the same unease.

Yang muttered, “Then what the hell was it?”

The Knight’s mask tilted toward Ruby. She shivered.

***

That night, far beyond Beacon, far beyond the mortal world, two beings stirred.

In a realm of endless white and endless black, they watched.

“Do you feel it, brother?” spoke a voice of radiant brilliance. The God of Light shifted, golden form gleaming. “A shadow not of our making now walks Remnant.”

“Yes.” The God of Darkness answered, his form a flowing abyss. His voice was low, almost amused. “A child of void. Not Grimm. Not Man. Something… else.”

“It bears power akin to divinity. Yet alien. Unnatural.”

“No,” Darkness corrected, his grin sharp in the dark. “It is natural… to another world. Not ours.”

The God of Light’s form pulsed uneasily. “It wields a void strong enough to rival our own balance. Such a vessel should not exist here. What has been brought into our cycle?”

The God of Darkness chuckled softly. “Perhaps… a mistake. Or perhaps… a key. We should let him live maybe he could fix our mistakes.”

The two gods fell silent, gazes fixed on Remnant.

And on the little vessel who walked among mortals, carrying a void that was never meant for this world.

Chapter 19: A Crow Meets a Shadow

Beacon’s staffroom was heavy with silence. The sparring arena footage flickered across the holo-screen, replaying the moment the Knight unleashed his void spell. The crackling surge of black energy looked more like a wound tearing reality than any recognizable use of Aura or Dust.

The silence broke with a single word.

“…What the hell was that?” Qrow muttered, flask hanging forgotten at his side.

Ozpin didn’t answer immediately. He leaned forward in his chair, fingers steepled, his expression unreadable. “It is unlike any semblance I have ever documented. Nor Dust manipulation. Nor Aura technique.”

Glynda, arms folded tight, nodded sharply. “No student—no human—should be capable of producing that sort of energy. It wasn’t a weapon, it wasn’t external Dust. That… thing created the force from itself.”

She tapped her riding crop against the desk, jaw tight. “And you’ve allowed it to live in a dormitory with children.”

Qrow’s eyes narrowed. “Careful, Glynda. The ‘thing’ you’re talking about has been following Ruby around without a single hostile move. If it wanted to kill her, or anyone, it’s had plenty of chances.”

Ozpin replayed the footage again, eyes narrowing behind his glasses. The void burst slowed, frame by frame, revealing the strange distortion in the air. A pulling force, a consuming pressure.

“…It doesn’t fight like a Grimm,” Ozpin said softly. “Its precision, its restraint… this was a controlled strike, not mindless aggression.”

Qrow leaned back, arms crossed. “Yeah, but controlled by what? That ain’t Aura, Oz. That was something else."

Glynda’s voice dropped, cold. “And you think it’s safe to let this… ‘Knight’ continue living among the students?”

Ozpin closed his eyes for a long moment. When he opened them, the weight in his gaze deepened. “…Safe? No. Necessary? Perhaps.”

Qrow’s flask clicked against the table as he set it down hard. “You’re not seriously suggesting we keep it around without answers.”

“I am suggesting,” Ozpin said evenly, “that if something with that much power has chosen—of its own will—to walk among our students rather than destroy them, then we must learn from it. We must understand what it is before we decide how to act.”

The room went tense.

Ozpin turned to Qrow. “You will return to Beacon at once.”

Qrow blinked. “What? I’m in the middle of—”

“This takes precedence,” Ozpin cut him off, voice firm. “Whatever else you are handling can wait. I need your eyes on this. If the Knight is truly what it appears to be, then we are not simply dealing with an anomaly. We are dealing with a being of… divine proportion.”

Glynda stiffened. “Divine…?”

Ozpin didn’t elaborate. His eyes were still on the screen, on the tiny figure unleashing a storm of void with inhuman precision.

“…I have seen power akin to this only once before,” he whispered, almost to himself. “And it belonged to gods.”

Qrow shifted uncomfortably, tugging at his scarf. “…Well, ain’t that comforting.”

The holo-screen flickered, replaying the moment again. The room was silent but for the hum of the projector.

***

The airship ride back to Beacon was quiet. Too quiet. Qrow leaned against the railing, flask dangling loosely from his hand. His scroll pinged every few minutes with updates from missions he’d abandoned, but he ignored them.

His thoughts circled like vultures.

Ozpin’s words replayed in his head. Divine proportion.

He’d seen plenty of strange things in his years — relics, Grimm that should never have existed, even the Maiden’s fire. But gods? Those were supposed to be long gone. Or at least… not walking around in the form of a bug-eyed mascot Ruby had apparently adopted as a pet.

When the ship landed, the autumn wind bit sharp. Qrow tugged his scarf tighter and made his way into Beacon. Ozpin hadn’t given him much detail — just “see it with your own eyes.”

And so he did.

***

Qrow found them in the courtyard: Ruby and her team chatting, the Knight sitting silently on the stone bench beside them.

Ruby perked up immediately. “Uncle Qrow!” She bounded over, cape fluttering.

“Hey, Pipsqueak.” He gave her a half-smile before his eyes flicked to the Knight. “So… this is your new ‘friend.’”

The Knight looked up at him, mask blank, cloak shifting faintly as though stirred by a breeze that wasn’t there.

Something in Qrow’s stomach twisted. His instincts, honed over years of fighting Grimm, screamed at him that this wasn’t right. Not evil, not Grimm, not even human… just wrong. Like staring at an open door to somewhere you weren’t meant to see.

Ruby tugged his sleeve. “Don’t worry, he’s harmless! Really! He’s been helping us in class and—”

“Harmless, huh?” Qrow muttered. He crouched slightly, bringing himself closer to the Knight’s height. “…You understand me, don’t you?”

The Knight tilted its head. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, it nodded.

Qrow’s frown deepened. “…Cute. So you do know what we’re saying. Then tell me this—” He tapped a finger against the Pure Nail resting across the Knight’s lap. “Where’d you get a weapon like that?”

No answer. Just silence.

Ruby stepped between them quickly. “Uncle Qrow, stop it! He doesn’t… he doesn’t talk.”

Qrow straightened, scratching at his scruffy beard. “Doesn’t talk, huh? Figures.” He reached for his flask but didn’t drink. Not this time.

He studied the Knight again. That stillness. That patience. Not like a Huntsman-in-training. Not like a kid. More like… a statue that had chosen to move.

Oz, he thought grimly, what the hell did you drop me into?

Ruby beamed at him, trying to break the tension. “See? He’s not scary. He’s just… quiet.”

Qrow met the mask’s unblinking gaze one last time. For a split second, he thought he saw something stir in the black behind it. Not eyes. Not Aura. Just… void. Endless and deep.

He forced a crooked smile. “Yeah, kiddo. Quiet. Real quiet.”

But inside, every instinct told him: this thing isn’t here by accident. And one day, quiet or not, it’s gonna shake the whole damn world.

***

The Vytal Festival had transformed Vale into a sea of color and sound. Banners snapped in the wind, crowds roared from the stadium, and students from every kingdom paraded through the streets.

To most, it was a celebration. To Qrow, it was a headache.

He leaned against the shade of a column, flask unopened, eyes sharp on the small figure sitting quietly near Team RWBY’s waiting area. The Knight, still as stone, mask tilted slightly toward the sky as if listening to something no one else could hear.

Ruby darted past, excitement bubbling. “Uncle Qrow! We’re up next!” She waved Crescent Rose before racing back to join her team. Yang grinned, Weiss rolled her eyes, Blake offered her usual quiet encouragement.

Qrow only nodded, but his gaze never left the Knight.

Ozpin wanted me to watch you, he thought. I don’t like playing babysitter, but hell if I’m letting you out of my sight in front of a whole damn stadium.

The matches began. Ruby and her team fought brilliantly, earning cheers from the crowd. Qrow should have been proud — and he was, a little — but the Knight distracted him.

Because something was wrong.

At first it was subtle. The cloak stirred when there was no wind. The shadows beneath the Knight seemed darker than those of the benches and trees. Qrow’s hunter instincts bristled — he recognized the feeling, the same one he got before the biggest Grimm appeared. The air thickened.

Then, for the briefest second, Qrow thought he saw it: a silhouette rising behind the Knight, vast and formless, a crown of writhing tendrils. Not the vessel — something inside, or perhaps beyond, pressing against this world.

Qrow’s hand drifted to Harbinger’s hilt. His knuckles whitened.

The shadow vanished. The Knight hadn’t moved.

Qrow exhaled slowly, forcing his grip to relax. Not yet. Not in front of them. Not here.

But his unease only grew.

***

Inside the Knight, the dream stirred again.

A voice whispered, soft as falling ash:

The walls thin. The void spreads.

The Knight stood in a sea of black. Before him, the Lord of Shades leaned forward, vast and terrible, a god unshaped.

This world is not ours. Yet still we bleed into it.

Lord of Shades look straight to the little figure.

You feel it, don’t you? This urge.

The Knight’s mask remained still.

We are close to manifesting. Close to breaking free of the shell.

The darkness surged like a tide, licking at the edges of reality.

And when we do… their gods will see us. And they will fear.

Chapter 20: Eyes of Mortals, Eyes of Gods

The night after RWBY’s match, Beacon Tower stood quiet above Vale, its glass dome lit only by the pale glow of the moon.

Ozpin sat alone in his office, a cooling cup of cocoa forgotten at his side. His cane leaned against the desk, his scroll showing still frames of the Knight from the day’s combat feeds.

He replayed the moments again and again. The silence, the precision, the shadowed ripple in the air.

Ozpin had seen power before. Maidens. Relics. The gods. But this…

This was something else.

When the Knight’s void burst had torn across the sparring ring, Ozpin had felt it in his bones. Not Aura. Not Grimm. A weight pressing on the soul, demanding recognition. As though the world itself shuddered at its presence.

Now, as the wind howled faintly against the windows, he closed his eyes.

And he felt it again.

A presence. Far below Beacon. Far beyond it.

A stirring in the fabric of Remnant.

It whispered like oil sliding across water. Cold. Endless. Hungering.

Ozpin’s hand tightened on his cane.

***

Far away, in a realm beyond mortal sight, the two Brothers stirred.

The God of Light’s form blazed across the void, his voice sharp. “It grows stronger. The fracture between worlds widens.”

The God of Darkness coiled, his shape a flowing abyss. “Indeed. This vessel is not simply carrying its power. It is… a doorway.”

“A doorway we did not create.” Light’s tone brimmed with anger. “Our balance is threatened. Another god encroaches.”

Darkness chuckled low, amused. “Not a god as we know them. A shadow. A remnant of another cycle. Yet even fragments can topple towers.”

Light’s radiance pulsed. “Then we must decide. Will we cut this shadow from the world, or allow it to remain?”

Darkness’s grin widened. “Allow it. Watch it. Our creation has grown predictable. This… intrusion may reveal what even we do not see.”

“You gamble with fire.”

“And you always smother it too soon.”

Their voices faded, but their eyes remained fixed on Remnant. On Beacon. On the Knight.

***

The Lord of Shades was waking.

And if it manifested fully… not even the Brothers themselves might control what came next.

Chapter 21: The World Breathes Black

The shadows moved strangely that night.

Every torchlight guttered, every lamplight dimmed, every alley in Vale seemed to yawn wider, darker. Hunters across the city whispered uneasily. Some swore the walls themselves were breathing.

At Beacon, Ruby woke to find the Knight gone. His bed sat empty, sheets undisturbed. No sound of his tiny feet clicking across the dorm floor. Just silence.

She hurried to the window—and froze.

The courtyard’s shadows weren’t behaving. They stretched unnaturally long, swaying though no wind blew. For a heartbeat, Ruby thought she saw something massive move within them, a crown of tendrils flickering against the moonlight before vanishing again.

Her breath caught. “…Knight?”

No answer.

***

Across the world, farmers looked up from their fields as twilight deepened, though the sun had not set. Children cried at unseen shapes flickering on their bedroom walls. Huntsmen in the wild found themselves surrounded by silent, watching dark.

The world itself seemed to shudder. Not violently—just… a breath. A vast, slow inhale.

A new god was being born.

***

And in Vale, another shadow stirred.

Cinder Fall stood at the city’s edge, her amber eye reflecting the dimming lights. Around her, Emerald and Mercury waited, blades and nerves sharp.

The chaos of the Vytal Festival had been the perfect cover. But now? The very air felt charged. Something was happening that even she hadn’t planned.

Cinder smiled, cold and sure. “No matter. Tonight, Vale burns. Beacon falls.”

Her hands ignited with Maiden fire. Power was whole. Hers. Nothing can stop her now.

***

Ozpin felt it first. The pulse. The void’s slow exhalation. His cane clattered against the floor as he braced himself against the desk.

The tower’s glass trembled.

“Ozpin?” Glynda’s voice called from the hall. “What’s happening?”

He whispered under his breath, voice hoarse with dread.

“…The world is breathing.”

***

In the courtyard, students gathered in panic as shadows slithered across the ground like living things. Some tried to cut them, blast them with Dust. Nothing worked.

Then came the first explosion—Cinder’s forces striking Vale’s defenses. Screams echoed across the city as Grimm, drawn by the chaos and the unnatural darkness, poured in.

But this time, it was more than Cinder’s plan.

The birth of the Lord of Shades was entwined with it, reshaping the battlefield.

For every light Cinder’s fire destroyed, the shadows only grew deeper.

***

And far beyond, in a dreamscape where no human should walk, the Knight stood motionless in the abyss.

The Lord of Shadows loomed behind him, vast and unbound, its presence pressing against reality like a tide against glass.

“The moment is here,” it whispered. “This world cracks. Through you, we shall enter. Through you, we shall reign.”

***

The air was fire and shadow.

Ruby’s scythe spun, carving Grimm from the smoke-choked courtyard. Yang’s fists blazed, Blake moved like a phantom through the dark, Weiss wove glyphs to hold their lines together.

But every moment, Ruby’s eyes darted. Searching.

“Where is he?!” she shouted over the roar of combat.

“We’ve got bigger problems right now, sis!” Yang blasted a Beowolf backward with a fiery strike.

Weiss snarled as her rapier skewered a Nevermore feather mid-flight. “Your… bug friend is not our priority while Vale burns!”

Ruby gritted her teeth, scythe snapping open to send a Deathstalker sprawling. “He’s part of this! I know it!”

And she was right. The shadows weren’t just random. They crawled thicker where the Knight should have been, bending, growing. As though the world itself was bleeding from the absence of that tiny figure.

***

Somewhere deeper, unseen by mortal eyes, the Knight stood alone in the abyss.

The Lord of Shadows enveloped him, tendrils stretching into infinity. And then—light. A piercing, ancient light, cracking like molten gold through the darkness.

The Wyrm. The fragments of Pale King that still clung to the vessel, buried deep. They surfaced now, drawn by the void’s ascension.

Two forces clashed within the shell.

The endless hunger of the Void.
The blinding dominion of the Wyrm.

***

Back at Beacon, Team RWBY felt it.

The shadows surged like waves, spilling across the courtyard. Ruby stumbled as Crescent Rose’s blade vibrated in her grip. Weiss’s glyphs faltered. Blake gasped as her shadow clone flickered unnaturally.

Yang swore. “What the hell is happening?!”

Ruby’s eyes widened as she spotted it: at the center of the writhing dark, a small silhouette was emerging. Masked. Cloaked. But… changed.

Her breath caught. “…Knight?”

The air bent around him, like the world itself was warping to make room. The Grimm shrieked and faltered, some retreating outright.

***

Far above, Cinder stood on a broken parapet, amber eye narrowing as she watched the impossible. “What… are you?”

She clenched her burning hand. Whatever it was, it wasn’t hers. And that enraged her more than anything.

***

Ruby took a half-step forward. “Knight!”

The figure turned. His mask blank. His silence unbroken. But the air around him trembled with the weight of something far beyond a Huntsman or Grimm.

It looked at her with no sign of recognition pure void below the shape.

"No! No this can't be happening!" Ruby rushed towards the figure.

***

An ocean of abyss flooded everything, still little Knight was standing in the epicenter, soul spells destroyed what they could reach, seals kept him save, his nail flew around him, attacking tentacles of void. Last power of Wyrm stood there not giving up for as long as he could.

***

Ruby's tearing eyes glew silver, brighter and brighter until nothing could be visible through the light.

***

The sun of pure pale silver started blazing over the ocean of the abyss, Soul filled the place, nothing except two identical creatures left, one glew white with black eyes as deep as the abyss, the other pitch black with eyes radiating silver light all over the place.

"You've won." the Void said.

No response was given, it was not needed.

Two figures approached each other until merging into one single thing.

Chapter 22: The God Who Named Himself

The world had split.

Beacon’s stone courtyards cracked, black veins spiderwebbing outward where the Knight stood. The shadows pulsed in rhythm, like the heartbeat of some colossal beast. Grimm howled, but they did not advance. They circled, restless, as if unsure whether to flee or worship.

Ruby's body fell. She was unconscious.

"Ruby!" Yang rushed body of her sister.

Blake’s golden eyes flicked toward the shifting silhouette. The Knight’s body was no longer still—his cloak peeled upward as though alive, his form stretching taller for a heartbeat, then shrinking, then sprouting wings of black-and-pale light that burned away into smoke.

"...That’s not just Knight anymore," Blake muttered.

The Knight was changing. His mask cracked faintly, fissures glowing with pale wyrm-light that bled into the abyssal black of his cloak. His small stature trembled, stretching unnaturally before snapping back. Each breath he took warped the shadows across the battlefield, as though the whole world inhaled and exhaled with him.

Then, with a sound like bone splintering, the second arm—formed of shimmering void—unfurled before collapsing back into his shell.

The air thickened, a crushing pressure bearing down on Blake shoulders. Shadows stretched toward her hand, curling like tendrils of smoke, almost brushing her fingertips.

And then the Knight’s mask pulsed with both black void and burning pale light.

Then the mask broke.

It didn’t shatter. It unfolded.

Petals of pale bone spiraled outward, and beneath them was not flesh, nor machine, but an infinite glow and shadow coiled together. Void poured upward in a crown of writhing tendrils, golden wyrm-light searing through them like veins of fire. Wings flickered, sometimes insectile, sometimes like ribbons of darkness, sometimes skeletal and vast before collapsing inward.

Ruby held in Yang hands woke up, looking at new creature.

“…Knight…?”

The figure turned. It was a pretty big in stature, and vast in presence. The shadows bent toward him, the light obeyed his steps. No words came, yet the world itself seemed to whisper.

Not void. Not wyrm. Something else. Something new.

Ruby’s eyes widened. “What… are you?”

And the answer, though never spoken aloud, carved itself into her very soul.

Nyx.

Then fire split the sky.

A golden spear of searing flame struck the ground between Ruby and the Knight, exploding stone and shadow outward. Ruby shielded her eyes, staggering back.

When the smoke cleared, she saw her.

Cinder Fall.

But not the woman Ruby remembered. Her form blazed with power, fire dancing over every movement, her one amber eyes burning like a sun and unnatural fury. The air warped with heat around her.

The Fall Maiden, complete.

Cinder smirked, her voice dripping venom. “How perfect. You will be the test of my power. Squirm, worm!”

She raised her hand, flame swirling into a storm that blotted out even the moonlight.

***

Ruby cried out. “Wait—no!”

But the Knight (or is it even him?) did not flinch. He simply turned toward the storm of fire. The shadows around him tightened like a coiled muscle. The wyrm’s light burned brighter in his chest.

Cinder released the storm.

And the Nyx moved to meet her.

***

The Headmaster’s hands trembled on his cane.

Ozpin had seen the Fall coming. He had prepared for Cinder, her pawns, her schemes. He had braced himself for the collapse of his school, his kingdom, even his very life.

But he had not prepared for this.

He gazed across the battlefield — at the shadows bending like tides, at firestorms collapsing into silence, at a figure burning with light and void in equal measure.

And in that moment, Ozpin realized:

This was not his war anymore.

***

Far above even him, in the unseen planes of existence, two voices stirred.

The God of Light.
The God of Darkness.

They had watched silently, smugly, as their balance teetered and broke. But now? For the first time in eons, they hesitated.

"It is not like us."

"No, this is not, not a thing we expected."

They looked down upon the Nyx. A vessel of void, a spark of wyrm, a paradox born from a world beyond their reach.

“Impossible. Nothing may exist without imitating us.”

“And yet, brother… it exists.”

***

On the battlefield, Cinder screamed as she hurled her full might — firestorms, molten lances, blades of burning air — all the Maiden’s stolen power unleashed at once.

The Nyx did not dodge. Did not raise a hand.

He absorbed.

Flames bent into shadow, light sank into void, the wyrm’s glow flickered brighter with every strike. Each spell she cast only fed him, each blast devoured in silence.

Cinder’s fury broke into panic. “What—what are you?!”

The Nyx’s, void and light coiling in perfect fusion.

He moved once. Just once.

A single slash of the Pure Nail.

The world fell silent.

Cinder’s scream was cut short as her body fractured — fire exploding outward, then swallowed whole by writhing shadow. In less than a heartbeat, the Fall Maiden was unmade.

All that remained was a fading echo of flame… devoured into the void.

***

Ozpin’s cane fell from his hand. His heart thundered.

“Dear gods… what have we brought into this world?”

The answer came not from his lips, but from above, where the gods themselves whispered in unease.

“This is not ours.”

“No… this is intrusion.”

And both, in unison:

“…This is wrong.”

***

Ruby fell to her knees in the courtyard, tears streaming down her face. Not from fear, but from the crushing pressure of divinity that radiated from the small figure standing amid the ash of Cinder’s destruction.

The Knight — her Knight — was gone.

In his place stood the Nyx.

***

Nyx stared at the silver eyed person, one he mistaken for Wyrm. A moment passed. His nail moved fracturing the reality.

***

The void between worlds.

The Brothers spoke in low tones, their forms vast silhouettes of blinding brilliance and endless shadow. Their words bent reality, and yet, they spoke with unease.

“It is beyond us. A fracture, a mistake.”

“An error born of a foreign flame. We need to remove it."

Silence.

Then the air shuddered.

From the deepest abyss rose a third voice, low and resonant — not echoing, not whispering, but demanding.

“Not error. Not mistake. Choice.”

The void boiled. A figure emerged, masked, cloaked, wings of light and shadow unfurled. The Brothers recoiled, for never in all of creation had anything trespassed upon their sacred realm.

“You dare step into the seat of gods."

The figure turned toward them void tendrils writhing, wyrm-light burning like a star, his presence dwarfed theirs, infinite and absolute.

Once, hollow. Once, vessel. No voice, no will. Born of God and Void.

The abyss surged, splitting the endless space with black flame.

Now… I am more. I choose. I claim.

The Brothers’ light flickered. For the first time, gods knew fear.

“What are you?”

The figure straightened, the void and soul around him coalescing into a shape not of silence but of intent. Glowing runes spiraling across his whole body like fire branded into stone.

His voice cut through existence itself:

I am Nyx, God of Abyss and Soul.

The name thundered across the void, shaking every corner of Remnant. Mortals did not hear, but their souls trembled in answer.

A new god stood in the world.

***

The Brothers rose, their forms stretching vast across eternity.

“Blasphemy.”

“Intruder.”

Their power surged in unison, forming beams of creation and destruction, intent to erase the anomaly.

But Nyx raised the Pure Nail, now transformed into a weapon of impossible scale — a blade that cut not flesh, but the fabric of reality.

You forged a world only to chain it. I will break your chains. I will claim your creations… and forge the dying world anew.

And with the first clash of divine forces, the void shook.

***

On Remnant below, the skies fractured, light and shadow colliding in storms above Beacon. The Grimm shrieked. Aura faltered. The air itself screamed.

Ruby fell, clutching Crescent Rose, staring up at the sky tearing open. Tears blurred her vision, but through them she whispered:

“…Knight…?”

But the Knight was gone.

Only Nyx remained.

***

And lo, the heavens split.

The God of Light raised his burning hand, and the stars themselves trembled, for he was the first spark, the dawn of all beginnings. His radiance poured like oceans of fire, each drop enough to ignite a thousand suns.

The God of Darkness unfurled his wings vast and endless, and the void beneath creation screamed, for he was the last shadow, the silence of all endings. His abyss stretched like an infinite tide, ready to drown eternity.

Together they rose, as they had since the world’s first breath — twin pillars, balance unbroken.

Until now.

For between them stood Nyx, the God of Abyss and Soul. Born of neither, bound by none. A vessel who once carried silence, now carrying will. A hollow shell that dared to name itself.

The Pure Nail, no longer mere steel, no longer bound to Hallownest, blazed in his grasp. A blade woven from light, void, and soul — a weapon to carve new truths into the bones of reality.

***

“Return to nothing, shadow-born! You are not written in the design!”

“You are intrusion. You are lie. You are wrong.”

And Nyx spoke, his voice thunder across existence:

I am not error. I am choice.

***

Light’s spear fell, a lance that could pierce galaxies. Darkness’ shroud descended, a storm that could swallow time. Between them, Nyx rose, and his void-wings unfolded, not to flee but to embrace. Shadows wrapped around pale radiance, soul sang through silence, and the nail cut the twin forces in two.

The sky wept black and white fire. The seas turned to glass. The earth split, and mountains bowed their heads before gods.

Every mortal soul felt it: the beating heart of a war that was not theirs. Grimm fell still, hunters faltered, Aura cracked like fragile glass. All of Remnant gasped under the weight of divinity.

The battle raged eternal in moments.

Nyx struck, and the darkness screamed as his void severed its endless tide.
Nyx struck, and the light faltered as his soul devoured its fire.

For every wound they gave him, he bled shadows that reformed into stars. For every wound he gave them, the heavens themselves bent.

The Brothers howled as one:

“This is our world! Ours to shape! Ours to rule!”

And Nyx answered:

No longer. You chained a world into Remnants. I will make it whole.

***

The Pure Nail rose for the final time, eclipsed in void, burning with wyrm-light, resonant with soul. A blade not of war, but of will.

And with one stroke, Nyx cut through both gods.

Light shattered into a billion sparks.
Darkness dissolved into an ocean of silence.
Twin screams filled creation — not of rage, but of ending.

The Brothers were no more.

***

And as their dying echoes faded, the world itself began to unmake.

The continents of Remnant cracked. The skies broke. Grimm dissolved into ash. Aura flared, then burst apart like a thousand candles in a storm.

And in the ruins, Nyx spread his wings.

From void he drew shape.
From soul he gave breath.
From light he painted dawn.
From shadow he wrote night.

He stitched them together into one.

Not fragments. Not pieces. Not Remnants.

But something whole.

A world reborn, seamless and unbroken, its skies and seas untouched by fracture, its heart beating not with balance but with choice.

***

And so ended the age of the Brothers.
And so began the age of Wholeness.

Where gods could fall.
Where vessels could choose.
Where the hollow may yet speak.

Chapter 23: The First Dawn of Wholeness

The air was still.

No fire. No ash. No Grimm.

The ruins of Beacon Tower were gone — not crumbled, not shattered, simply gone, as if they had never been. In its place, grass whispered in a breeze that carried no fear, no stench of death. Above, the moon hung whole, unmarred, its silver face a calm witness to the reborn sky.

Ruby Rose opened her blue eyes.

For a moment she thought she was still dreaming. The earth beneath her was soft with untouched soil, no scars of battle. The horizon stretched vast, painted with colors she had no name for. Mountains she did not know stood proud in the distance, rivers ran clear where no maps had placed them.

Her teammates stirred nearby. Yang groaned and sat up, blinking in confusion at her unbroken arm. Weiss gasped when she realized Myrtenaster was gone, not broken, not stolen — simply erased. Blake touched her chest, and for the first time, felt her soul as something she could not summon outward. No Aura. No shield. Only the quiet pulse of life within her.

“…What happened?” Blake whispered.

Ruby looked at her hands. They shook, though not from fear. Her scythe was gone too. All weapons were gone. Dust no longer shimmered in the air, no crystals glowed in their belts.

This was a world without Grimm. Without Aura. Without Dust.

But alive. Whole.

Yang exhaled, shoulders sagging as if a great weight had lifted. “We… we survived.”

Weiss stared at the horizon, voice hushed. “No. More than that… everything’s changed.”

***

Elsewhere — in no throne, no castle, no hidden lair — Ozpin did not stir. Salem did not rise. Their war, their cycle, their endless grief had ended with the Brothers’ fall. Their echoes were gone.

The world had no masters left.

***

Ruby stood slowly, brushing petals from her cloak. She felt the strangeness of her body — lighter without Aura, heavier with only her soul within her. The air itself tasted new. She turned toward the hills, her silver eyes scanning the horizon.

And for just a moment… she thought she saw him.

A small silhouette, pale mask, a torn cloak looking at her. Watching.

Her breath caught.

“…Knight?” she whispered.

The wind stirred. Grass bent.

When she blinked, the figure was gone.

But Ruby smiled, just a little.

Because somewhere, in this whole new world, she knew he was still there. No longer hollow. No longer unnamed.

But Nyx.

***

The first dawn rose, not over Remnant — but over a world that was no longer fragments. A world born not of balance, but of choice.

Notes:

Sorry for mistakes and very varying chapter length.

Feel free to comment and criticize.

Hope you liked my work!