"Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent."

― Victor Hugo

Heart racing. Palms sweating. Short breaths.

The show was about to begin.

"Ma, ma, ma, blah, blah, blah," the singer flexed her lips in the mirror. She tucked a hand under her chin and stretched her jaw, "Hey guys! Heard that you all- no, that's not it," she licked her lips, "You guys ready to get this party start- no, that's not it either…"

"I'll just wing it," she told herself. Winging it was her specialty, so it wasn't like she was willing to just let that talent go for the final show. Telling herself that helped ignore the terror boiling in her mind. When she got up to finish preparing for the show. When she turned to go speak with the stage manager, she found her father walking towards her from the backstage exit door.

"Dad. What is it? I have to be out on the stage in five minutes!" Maybe if she could stall him long enough to be forced onto the stage, then she might not have had to endure the coming pleas from her father.

He didn't say a word while he handed her a bottle of water. A few moments of silence came and went while he waited for her to guzzle it all down. He took a deep breath once she was finished, "Timbre, this doesn't have to be your last show. You can keep doing this. I'm just… I'm afraid you're going to end up thinking you've made the wrong choice if you go through with this," he kept his gaze down towards the ground, "I'm worried about you."

"Can't blame you there," Timbre really did not want to have this conversation. Unfortunately, she was about five minutes away from being pushed onto the stage. There was no way out of this, "But I've made up my mind."

Fans whistled and hollered to the stage. Maybe that would bring their idol out faster. Those chants and cheers always gave Timbre a bubbly feeling in the pit of her stomach. It reminded her that there were expectations in the crowd that only she could live up to.

Still, she had another talent that could better the world in a way that was needed. There was a role that few could fill, and she was one of those few, "I am going to Beacon and I am picking up my training where I left off," she put down the water bottle on a nearby table with a loud thud, "and you're not going to stop me."

"I know, but your mother wo-"

"My mother would have supported me in whatever I chose to do," she held up her balled up hands. "She's the one who inspired me to start fighting in the first place. She even let me use her weapon to get through preparatory school when I had trouble making my own."

Her father sighed. "Yes, but… look at what you've built up. All of this work-"

"All of this really doesn't mean that much to me. What about combat training? What about all of that work?" She fought harder than anyone else in combat school. She took pride in her prowess as a warrior, "This isn't what I want to do for the rest of my life!"

"You can't keep following in her footsteps Timbre! Just look at where that got her!" he snapped. Did he honestly think that her mother became a Huntress with the notion that her life would be perfectly peaceful and safe? He couldn't have been that naive.

Timbre sat and stared at him, her eyes widening from the sudden outburst. She decided that she wasn't going to listen to someone who apparently did not have the faintest clue about the duty of a Huntress, and stomped down towards the stage.

"Timbre! Timbre!" he called after her, "I didn't mean it like that! I just don't want you to end up like her!" He ran after her and grabbed her shoulders, turning her around to look at him, "I can't lose you too."

She turned her head away, unable to face him as tears welled up in her eyes. Silence surrounded them in a small bubble as the nearby cheers continued. "I'm not going anywhere unless it means that I can make a difference. Singing won't let me do that, at least, not in the way she would have wanted me to." She turned back to look at him, tears streaming down her face, "My music may make people feel better and entertain them, but it's not going to help when the Creatures of Grimm start ripping them to shreds," she broke his grasp, "I've made up my mind," she sighed, "I've already been working with my new weapons."

"Timbre… you… what…?"

"Yes dad! I did! I finally made my own weapons! That's how serious I am about this! Because Mom would've wanted me to! I can't rely on her weapon forever!" She turned back to him. While keeping their eye contact locked, she whipped her arms downwards. A few feet of thick cable came out of her wrists from under her sleeves. She grabbed them and held them up. Her sleeves fell to reveal black and red gloves with tubes connected to what looked like large reels wrapped around her upper arms. "I was going to show them off at the end of the show."

Her father was dumbfounded. "When did you...?"

She shook her head. "You really don't understand," The wires retracted with a crack. The star turned around and continued her trek to the stage, but stopped when she felt her dad's hand on her arm.

"Timbre… please. Listen to me."

She turned her head and glared at him coldly, "Let. Go."

Slowly, her father removed his hand from her shoulder. He stepped away silently. The sorrow on his face reminded Timbre of the day that he lost the love of his life. She was young, but she remembered.

In that moment, he felt that he had lost their daughter to the same fate. The fear of that had weighed down on his heart for all of his daughter's days. Seeing it come to fruition was devastating.

Timbre didn't look back. When she disappeared through the curtains, the cheers intensified.

Thousands of faces looked back at her in the venue's massive stadium. Screams and cheers echoed out as she looked over the smiling fans waving at her. Out of all of the places she'd performed, Koruss Stadium at the edge of Vale had always been her favorite. It was where she held her first big show and it was also the closest to home. She found it fitting that her last performance would be here. As she stepped up to the microphone, her nervousness faded.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the announcer boomed through the stadium, "back home in Vale for her last and final show, please welcome, Timbre Forté!"

Timbre grabbed the mic and the band behind her began to play. Drums beat loudly and guitars blared through the large amps as brightly colored lights turned and flickered in the darkness of the vast room.

"Hello-o-o-o Vale! How are you guys doing tonight!?" The smile on her face grew as she pushed the conversation with her father to the back of her mind. After a few seconds of cheering, she began to sing along with the music.

Almost two full hours later, Timbre returned to the backstage area. She was laughing and smiling as she pushed her bangs out of her eyes. Her fans were still yelling loudly, demanding an encore. She looked around for her dad, whom she found sitting in a chair not too far away near some of the control panels. The smile on her face faded a bit as she walked over to him.

"Timbre!" he stood up and gave a weak smile, "You were fantastic out there!"

"Dad, I'm sorry about earlier," she cut in.

He looked down to her and nodded. He put a hand on her shoulder, "Timbre, I may not like your decision, but… after giving it some thought, maybe you're right. Your mother would be proud knowing that you want to go to Beacon," he looked her in the eyes, "if it will make you happy, I'll support it. Just know that I'll be worried about you every second you are not within my sight."

A tear rolled down her cheek, "Thanks dad," she placed her hand over his, "Hey, maybe in four years, I could do a return show when I'm a Huntress," she giggled.

He laughed along with her, "You know, I'd like that very much, Timbre."

The tender moment was suddenly cut off when a one of the stagehands came from around the corner saying Timbre had to go back out onstage for the encore.

I don't even get a break on my last show? she thought. It seemed strange that she was being asked to go back out onstage for the finale already, but it seemed to make sense since it was her final show. She nodded to the worker before turning back to her father.

"Go on, honey. Go give them a finale they'll never forget," he kissed her forehead, "Knock 'em dead."

She smiled and bounced her way back to the stage. The cheers once again intensified, but before she could say anything into the mic, the excited cheers were replaced with terrified screams as an explosion rang out. The shockwave sent her tumbling back against the drumset. The world around her jerked when her head bounced off of the bass drum.

Timbre watched as figures in dark hoods and shiny metallic helmets descended from the fresh hole near the base of the dome. Luckily, the seating up there was undergoing renovations. The fans began to run to the exits, trampling over one another and screaming the entire time. She could only sit there, numb with horror as she saw large black shapes moving through the hole with them: Grimm.

"Timbre!" Her dad ran out onto the stage and yanked her to her feet, "You have to get out of here!"

She fumbled backward, "Who… who are these people?... Why do they have Grimm with them?" She clenched her fists, drawing her gloves down her arm and around her fingers. Anger slowly replaced her numbness. She spun around, "Dad, get out of here."

"But Timbre! You-"

"Go!" she commanded.

The man before her shuddered a bit, looking back and forth between her and the various dark figures nearing them as she drew lengths of wire from under her wrists. He looked to her and nodded. Following a moment of stunned silence, he mouthed 'okay,' before running backstage.

Timbre looked into the seating, determined to put an end to this chaos. No fans were left, and there seemed to be no injured or dead among them. Of course, she couldn't be completely certain, but she pushed that possibility out of her mind. Her eyes followed the hooded figures as they walked down the aisles towards the stage. Her anxiety from before the show had returned. She felt her hands slip against the thick woven cables. She waited, but quickly found that standing her ground wouldn't help much when she saw the metallic glint of guns. All of them were aimed at her.

Gunshots rang across the stadium. She ducked to the side as a hail of bullets scattered around her. The thought of her mother's life. The danger that she faced. The bravery she had. She could be that too.

She retracted the long wire from her right glove and pointed her fist at the ceiling above her. Thinner wires from the knuckles of each of her fingers launched upwards, trailing off towards the darkness above. When she felt them snap taut, she began reeling them back in.

The hooded soldiers and creatures watched Timbre fly high into the air above them. When they saw her beginning to fall towards them, they began shooting again.

Timbre could feel bullets whizzing past her, but she deflected what she could with the thicker cables. She reeled her arms back above her head, and then crashed the braided cables into the ground between two of the shooters. A flick of the wrist caused the cables whip sideways, knocking both of the shooters off of their feet before arcing them back and delivering a pair of knockout blows.

Fear sunk into her chest. Two of the opponents were down, but there were a dozen more running towards her. She launched wires forward. They wrapped around two more soldiers, effectively tying them up. She whipped them towards each other, incapacitating them. With them wrapped up, she clipped the wires, leaving the bindings to do their job.

Before she could find her next threat, her breath was knocked clean out of her as something heavy slammed into her back. She landed on the ground on her stomach. The beast on top of her was breathing heavily, the heat from its face blowing against her neck. Its weight shifted onto her spine. It was rearing back to give her a killing blow.

"STOOOOOOP!" she yelled.

The weight was suddenly gone. She pushed herself up, shaking from the near death experience. Timbre scanned the area around her to try to find the Grimm that had tried to kill her, but only found the body of a Beowolf lying a few feet away, a hole blown through its bone-plated head. It slowly vanished into nothingness.

"Tsk tsk tsk. Bad puppy. We need this one alive," a mechanically distorted voice echoed from the aisle in front of her.

Timbre looked back to see one of the hooded figures walking towards her. Due to their slightly bulkier and unique appearance compared to the others, she figured that they were the boss. The black cloak was fractured with red fissures, similar to a Grimm's mask, and the metallic helmet was much more ornate with detailed curves and points. This was their undoubtedly the leader.

"Who are you!?" she demanded with as much courage as she could muster and held lengths of wire out. Four of the shooters were down because of her actions, and she would take down a fifth if it meant putting an end to this madness.

The rest of the soldiers pointed their guns at her. The last of the Grimm were killed off. Obviously, they had served their purpose.

The leader lowered their hand, ordering the others to hold their fire. "Come now, cut that out. You're all scaring her," that same metallic voice echoed from inside the helmet. The leader stepped closer to Timbre, "Why don't you make this easy for us, and come along quietly Ms. Forté?" They held out a hand, beckoning her forward.

She shook her head. "You never answered my question. Who are you?"

The leader shook their head, "That is no concern of yours at the moment. All you need to know is," in a blink of an eye, the leader was behind Timbre with their gun held against her temple, "very bad things will happen if you don't come with us."

Timbre wanted to scream, but nothing came out. She was staring down the barrel of a black and red carbine. The gun reminded her of the black hide of a Grimm. She knew that her aura would help lessen the damage, but she was much too frightened to think about that at the moment. At this range, her aura could break as easily as it could protect her.

The lackies stepped closer, ready to take her to wherever for whatever reason. She had had some weird and obsessive fans before, but these people obviously weren't doing this because of her music. She knew she didn't have much time.

"Get… off… of me!" she slammed her elbows backwards into the sides of the leader. They stumbled backwards as Timbre repelled herself up to the walkways above. She thought she'd made it out, but when she looked down, she saw the barrel of the leader's gun pointed right at her. She launched wires to the side, out of the leader's shot. She began swinging, circling the stadium well above their heads.

The leader stomped their foot. "Don't just sit there, get her down from there!" they demanded.

Timbre continued her path around the room, repeatedly launching and retracting wires from her fingers. If she couldn't fight all of them at once, she'd just stay out of their reach. One thing that she knew how to do well was stall.

As the wind whipped past her, she saw the hole her attackers had made to get in. Her escape.

"Stop moving!" The leader shot a few shots at her, but she had already clipped the wires that held her and launched herself towards the opening.

Timbre landed hard on the curved dome roof outside. She tumbled over herself, rolling away from the hole before finally coming to a stop only a few inches from a twenty-story fall to the lake below. The night sky twinkled above her, the broken moon taunting her. In the distance, the spires of Beacon Academy glowed.

Would I be dealing with this right now if I were already there? She thought to herself.

"How dare you..."

Timbre turned back towards the hole she'd flown through. Slowly stepping towards her was the group's leader. They had their gun pointed at her, not wavering even a fragment of an inch away from her face. "Now, stop being so much trouble and come along. I can't promise I won't hurt you anymore because you've really, really made me," they lifted their gun to slam it against Timbre's head, "ANGRY!"

She watched as the butt of the rifle came fly towards her. She shut her eyes and reached her arm up to shield her face. The world was about to go dark for a little while, or it might have, at least.

Before the gun could meet Timbre's face, a flash of white slammed into the leader's side.

A woman dressed in a long white coat slammed the leader against the dome. While they were down, she drove her foot into their chest.

"A Huntress?! Seriously?!" the leader shouted. They grabbed the woman's ankle and threw her off. Before she had a chance to recover, they dug their heels into the ground and tackled her at the waist.

They both went flying, tumbling down the curved dome until they eventually slid off of the roof. Seconds felt like days as Timbre waited for any sign of life from either of them, then she heard a splash.

A few more moments of silence passed, "Why must you ruin a perfectly good show?" the woman broke the silence. She poked her head up from the edge of the roof, but the mass of orange curls on her head obscured her face. Thankfully, she had caught herself and dumped the attacker in the lake below.

She pulled herself the rest of the way up, her shoulders sagging in disappointment. Her fingers ran through her hair, straightening it enough for Timbre to see the face of her heroine, "How are you doing, Timbre? Rough night?" she held her hand out to help her up.

The woman who stood before the singer was familiar. Timbre knew her well. Very well. "Carmen?!" she took her hand. She wrapped her arms around the Huntress, hugging her tightly.

"What are you doing here?! Is dad okay?" she stuttered. The mayhem in the parking lot below brought back the sinking feeling in her chest. Ambulances and policemen had arrived to help deal with the panicked masses. Her knees began to buckle when she saw what looked like black body bags.

Carmen quickly grabbed her and spun her around "He's fine, and I couldn't not be here for your last performance," she smirked, "Your mother would've never let me live it down if I did, you know?" she began tapping her toes on the tiles, "I guess the more appropriate answer would be… 'I'm a Huntress, it's my duty to protect people. I'm a teacher, and I have to protect my students."

Timbre pushed the image out of her mind and gave a weak smile, "Yeah… that makes sense… I guess," she looked to the dark expanse of sky above them, "Um… can we get down from here, now?"

Carmen blinked a few times. She looked down for the lake before returning to Timbre. "Oh… right. Yeah, we can do that. Those goons vanished when the cops showed up, so we shouldn't have to worry about… them coming back…"

Timbre hooked a wire to a nearby air conditioning unit, "who?"

Carmen shook her head, "One thing at a time. Let's 'get down from here', okay? We can go out and grab some coffee after I fill out the reports. Or burgers. Maybe some ice cream."

Timbre rolled her eyes as they rappelled down. Carmen had always been scatterbrained, but she usually forced herself to focus during serious events. What is going on here?... She thought to herself. As soon as her feet touched the ground, her father ran up to her and hugged her closely. His cheeks were wet with worried tears.

"Don't worry, dad," Timbre hugged her father back, "You're not losing me that easily…" but she didn't know that for sure. If those goons ever decided to show their faces again, she would be ready. She would be on her way to becoming a full-fledged Huntress.