Author's Note:

You know the drill. Do all the stuff. Tell me how that emotion thing at the end went.

Ruby was vaguely aware that Naze had left, but she wasn't too broken up about that. In fact, she was rather glad that he was gone. His presence had a way of ruining the mood of what was going on.

She tried to embrace her mother, but her hands simply went right through her. She was still slightly translucent, and was not solid, as Ruby had hoped. As a consequence, Ruby fell straight through her, and hit the floor, her eyes starting to water with happiness. She scraped her arms of the ground as she fell, but she didn't care, because she was going to get to peak with her mother, just like she always wanted.

She picked herself up off the ground, too fast for Yang or her father to help, and immediately went back to her mother, her hands near her chest, hardly able to contain her herself. She made a high pith squealing sound. She had thought about what she would say for hours upon hours, but none of the thoughts came to her now. All she could really do was simply look up at her, and try desperately to think of something.

Summer reached out a nearly gaseous hand, and put it as close as she could to Ruby's cheek without letting it pass through her, fixing her with a warm look. "Ruby, it's so good to see you again." She looked up to Yang, saying, "And you, Yang. You've both grown so much! You both have, and it makes me the happiest person in the world to see!"

She looked over to the side, and let her arms go out invitingly. "Tai, you look the same as the last time I saw you. You never told me how you do that, you know."

The two girls looked from their mother to their father, and saw that his eyes were watering again, and his entire body was shaking. He looked like he was about to have a breakdown of some kind. Yang remembered when he had simply shut down after Summer died, and wondered if her return was going to have some reverse, energizing effect.

Her father responded after trying and failing to compose himself, saying, "I'm sorry, my dear. Had I have known…" his voice trailed off as he started to weep, and all three of the women watching him felt their hearts, either physical or metaphorical, ache for him. His voice returned to him, wavering and unsteady, and he said "I wish I could touch you, my dear. I've longed to kiss you for so long, and you were never there…" his voice started to trail off again, and he stopped, trying to gather himself again.

Summer smiled, and said in as comforting a voice as she could manage, "Don't worry about it, Tai. I understand. You don't need to apologize for anything. Let's just focus on the fact that we'll be together again, shall we?" Taiyang smiled and nodded, agreeing with her.

Yang didn't want to ruin the moment, but she felt the urge to correct her mother about one thing. She wouldn't be able to simply stay around, she would have to work for Naze to stay. She didn't say this, though. She knew better than to kill the tenderness in the moment like that. It was a sad truth, though, that Summer had probably just given her father some false hope about her being able to stick around. She didn't want him to suffer again when Summer left, but if she stopped working for Naze, there would be no other choice.

She knew that she wouldn't be able to expect any kind of compassion from the lich. She wasn't angry with him or anything, but she just wished that he could show a little humanity that wasn't mind-arresting terror for once. Maybe if her mother was allowed to stay, a lot of good would come out of it. But she knew that he wouldn't agree. No matter how good for his image it would be, he wouldn't do it.

It was a shame, though. Yang knew that she herself was under the same constraint as her mother, but she didn't have much of an issue serving like she did. As long as she got to see the crazy things that seemed to keep happening she would be happy. Her mother, though, was a lot more heroic, something that Ruby probably got from her. Both only sought the betterment of the world around them, and not really much else. She admired both of them for that, and even felt a little inferior by comparison.

She drew her attention back to the scene at hand, and smiled broadly again. Summer was speaking with Ruby now, who seemed to have wrapped her head around the situation enough to be able to communicate. The two were discussing madly what Ruby had decided to do with her life, and how she had been inspired to follow in her mother's footsteps.

Perhaps it was Yang's undead side starting to emerge, but she thought that Summer looked troubled somehow. She smiled and nodded, giving praise to all of Ruby's actions, but there was something about them that seemed insincere. Not that she doubted her mother was proud, of course. It was clear that she really did care about what Ruby had been doing, but there was also just a hint that it made her sad, too.

Yang didn't say anything about this, either. She wondered why her mother would be feeling like that, then pushed the thoughts from her mind entirely. If there was a problem, she was sure that her mother would tell them. It wasn't long before she was motioned to not only by Ruby, but by her mother as well to go and join them. She did so, and walking forwards filled her with a warm feeling that she never wanted to go away. It felt like heaven to be reunited with her family, whole, even if two were dead. The doubts and wonderings faded from her mind, and she started to talk, telling her mother about her own experiences of late.

As much as she didn't wasn't to break the rough news, she did eventually tell her mother that she had died as well. She had tried to dance around the topic at first, but her mother started to get suspicious about it, and soon was asking her directly about her health. There was nothing that she could do to avoid the question. She had to flat out tell her mother that she was dead, and this was a much more difficult thing to do than she had expected. She couldn't help but feel almost ashamed by the fact that she had died.

Her mother was overcome with grief, her father started to quiet down, and Ruby started to become visibly uncomfortable talking about it, but she tried to assure all of them that it wasn't a sore subject. It was simply something that had happened, and there was no need to treat it with any special care.

She then proceeded to tell the story of how she had died, and of the mutated undead Grimm that had ended her life. At first Summer thought that Naze had meant for her to die, like had had planned it, but she was quick to explain that that was not how it had gone, and that it had all happened by total accident. Happy accident, in a way. Yang suspected that things would not have gone very well recently if she had not been involved.

They talked for hours, but when Summer said that she could feel Naze calling her for something more important, all of them understood. She wasn't able to just hand around like this, she had duties to perform, just like she had in life. Not much had changed, really, as she said. The job might have changed, but it was still interrupting her parenting.

Solace's eyes burned with a fiery passion when he heard the news of what was happening. He had expected some time between the announcement and the undead actually going about defiling the heroes that were respected. But no, instead they had gone out in numbers too great to protest, all over the world at once. The Order of the Holy Light had grown, but there was nothing they could do against something like this. They had tried everything at their disposal within the first few hours, riling up crowds, drawing attention to what was going on, preaching about how wrong it was, but all of this had only stopped a few resurrections, and those were sure to be continued at a later date.

It infuriated him that there was nothing they could do on a larger scale, even after doing everything to amass more numbers. But those that he had gathered were powerful, rivaling even the Hunters and Huntresses now, he was sure of it. Each among his ranks possessed such a strong, unbreakable soul, capable of channeling huge amounts of pure holy power. They were unbreakable, just like him. The first batch of recruits had, receiving a rather truncated education, had ascended to the full rank of Paladin, in spite of the meager assistance Solace could give them. Mighty warriors, every one of them. Perfectly capable of doing whatever it took to uphold human purity.

But now the undead had somehow managed to convince people that they should be allowed to corrupt the souls of their ancestors. Solace didn't know how they could agree to that, but it was obviously too late to do anything about it.

He bowed his head, feeling the dark tendrils of hopelessness start to drill their way into his chest. He had given hope to many this generation, even teaching them how to do the same in case he were to fall, but now he was losing it. No matter what he did, he could not feel the light inside him. When he needed it most, it was gone. His faith had never wavered before, and his strength had never buckled. But now, in the face of something like this, he was for the first time about to lose himself.

The door to the small room that he occupied opened, and a figure walked in. He could recognize the pearl white robes before he saw the face, and said "Ah, hello, Amber."

The Priestess closed the door behind her, then turned back to face him again. He could see the soft, concerned look in her eyes, and knew that she could see he was aching from the recent events. He remembered all of the things that he had told her about re-inspiring faith in those who had lost it, and readied himself to have those tactics repeated to him. That was one bad thing about being the architect of the new Order. He knew everything that everyone else did. When Amber had come to him, she had been a frail young girl, not just physically, but spiritually as well. She had been broken by everything that she had been through before, and had no reason to go on. Solace had given her that without hesitation, and she had blossomed like a flower with her new purpose. In a way, it was the opposite of the terrible withering that Solace experienced now. He wished that he could be as invigorated as she was.

Amber pulled the chair out from the other end of the table he sat at, and asked "May I sit down?" Solace nodded mutely, and she sat down gently. Solace then expected her to say something about his faith, or to complement him in some way, but she did not. Instead, she asked in a small, unobtrusive voice, "How is Reisha these days? Does she still plan to visit our monastery?"

This took him off guard. It was not the technique that she had been taught to use when dealing with things like this. Solace suspected that she knew he would pick up on this, so he didn't say anything about it, instead simply answering her question. "Yes, she does. She would have come in a few weeks, were it not for…"

He didn't finish the sentence, but he didn't have to. Everyone knew at least a little about the threat the world was facing from the demons, as well as that of the undead. Unfortunately, there was nothing that they could do about either one. He continued to talk about the only woman who had ever touched his heart, telling Amber about it, hoping that she wasn't getting more than she had bargained for. "She still hopes to when she had planned, but I think she's being a little too optimistic about it. She's worried about me, and how I'm dealing with things these days. Wishes she could console me, I suppose." He sighed, and leaned back in his chair, letting the sorrow drive a little deeper into his heart. "Maybe I should go and visit her. That would be nice."

Amber looked him over, up and down, doing her best to gauge him, before saying, "But you're needed here. You couldn't just call an end to the proceedings here, because we need you to guide us!"

Solace waved a hand, and gave a short, insincere laugh. "You don't need me. At least, not as much as you think. If I were to disappear, no one would be too sad by my going. I'm sure that all of you would rise to the occasion anyways, and fill my place."

He said this all looking down at his feet, and when he looked up, he found Amber giving him a horrified look. "We would never! We care immensely about you, Sir, and we would find you! We couldn't just let you disappear! You mean too much to each and every one of us! I know that, to me at least, you're a father."

He smiled at the girl. She wasn't much younger than him, biologically, so being called a father was quite strange. He had lived in a different time, however, so perhaps that explained it. He waved his hand again and said "Well, you would find a way to continue on, I'm sure. Perhaps it would be better that way. Maybe the Order should not be shaped the way it was, because times are not what they were."

When he finished that sentence, Amber did something very out of the ordinary for her. She cut him off. "Stop talking like that right now! You know that we would be devastated if you left! I know that everyone is feeling down about recent events, but we need to keep our spirits up. We have to keep the walls of our own making strong!"

The saying she used was not the most fluent, nor the most sensical, but it served its purpose. The small light seemed to stir in his chest, and he felt some dormant part of himself reawaken. If the undead scored such a huge victory, they would have to come up with one equally as massive. There was simply no other way.

He felt an immense gratitude in his heart towards the girl, but there was nothing that he could say to express this. Instead, he simply smiled at his disciple, and nodded. "Thank you, Amber. You never fail to inspire."

Amber smiled, and stood from her seat. "I'm glad that I could help. If you ever start to feel bad again, I'm always willing to talk about it."

Solace nodded again, and said, "Thank you." With that, Amber turned to leave the room. She felt good, having served Solace well. But as she left the room, she couldn't keep the smile. She was feeling the same degradation that Solace was, and countless other members of her Order. They just seemed so small in comparison to what was happening, how could they be expected to do anything?

She took a deep breath, and sighed. She needed a walk, that would clear her head. She would go for a walk, then she would be in a much better mood. She walked to the door of the building, nodding to the construction workers who had been hired to repair the wall that had been destroyed, and exited out into the fresh air. The sun was starting to sink in the sky, and it would be evening soon.

As she walked, she looked around at the people she passed. Not many were out walking the streets of the district, but those who were didn't give her any second looks because of her robes. They had grown used to the Order's presence in the area.

The whole while, though, she felt like she was being watched. It was a presence that she couldn't quite place, but she thought that she had felt it before. Eventually, she felt the need to turn and look for whoever it was that was stalking her. She did so, and was surprised to find the almost translucent form of one of Naze's ghosts. It was nearly formless, and had few defining features, but its burning eyes were all that Amber needed to know what it was. The two stared at one another for a moment, then the thing said "He's sad, isn't he?"

Amber was somewhat taken aback by this, and pulled her holy book from her side, ready to raise it and protect herself as soon as the need arose. "Why are you here? What do you want with me?" The fact that one of these things was with her was not good, and the fact that it presented itself could be even worse. It meant that it wanted something.

The thing stared at her again for a few seconds before responding "To deal, and negotiate. There are important things happening, and minor annoyances must not be allowed to ruin other's plans. My Master wishes to negotiate a truce between our peoples, at least so long as the demons have open rifts."

Amber looked at the creature, a twisted version of what a human soul was supposed to be. It was a foul corruption of an innocent soul, serving its wicked master without a second thought. Yet, there was something off about it. It seemed to have some degree of its own free will. Amber was reminded of her meeting with Yang in the hospital. It had been awkward at the time, but now she looked back and saw it as an important event. If there was any among Naze's fold that she could count on truly being as they were when they were alive, it was probably her.

She made these thoughts and feelings known to the shade before her, saying, "I don't want to discuss this with anyone but your ambassador, Yang. If you wish to deal, you do it through her. Otherwise, I won't trust anything you have to say."

The shade kept staring at her for a few seconds before nodding its head in a large motion, saying in its wispy voice, "Very well. Yang is preoccupied at the moment, and will not be able to make deals for an indeterminate amount of time. If this is your desire, please keep your master from making any more rash actions that impede our progress. It would be greatly appreciated."

Amber wasn't quite sure what to make of this. She didn't know if waiting was the right thing to do or not, but she hardly wanted to risk being manipulated by a faceless shade. She would rather have a conversation face to face with someone. Now that she thought about it, Yang had been rather personable when they had met. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she kind of liked the girl. They had only met briefly, of course, but still, she had seemed very friendly at the time. Very grateful for what Amber had done for her friends.

Amber shook her head. Maybe Naze was trying to confuse her, and make her think that his people were all the same way that she was. They could have been, she supposed, but they might also not have been. It was a delicate balance, she knew, and the thing was asking her to keep Solace from making any more radical moves against Naze. It wasn't quite her place, but she would do what she could, at least until getting an audience with Yang.

She looked up from her thought, and the shade was gone without a trace as to where it had gone. She no longer felt that she was being watched, or that there was anything nearby. Her fingers loosened around the spine of her holy book, and she tucked it carefully back into its pocket. Maybe Naze was telling the truth, maybe he wasn't. Either way, Amber only wanted to talk with someone she had met before. She wondered if she should tell Solace about the little meeting or not. She felt like she needed to, but she also knew that it wouldn't sit well with him, and he would probably deny it outright. Maybe it would be best if she kept this dealing in the shadow.

General Ironwood sat practically on the edge of his seat, watching the screens in front of him with as much attention as he could muster. His airship had gone dark, and was now moving without orders to do so. It pained him to say it, but the only probable option was that they had been captured. It made his heart ache, the people on that ship had been some of the most strong and dedicated soldiers he had ever trained, but it seemed that whatever they had faced was simply too much for them.

Onboard security cameras transmitting a live feed directly to his small private command post told as much of the story as he needed to know, and provided him imagery that would no doubt haunt his dreams for nights to come. To think that people so proud, and so disciplined, could give in to such carnal things did certainly not bode well. If these demons were really as persuasive as they appeared, then it would be a major problem if they were to get anywhere with a large number of people. He had to do everything in his power to stop something like that from happening.

It wasn't a minute after the ship started to fly without official orders that interceptors were scrambled and sent off, intent on destroying the traitor ship. There was nothing else that could be done in this situation.

It wouldn't be long before they would be able to take an offensive against the demons, though. Without the forces that Naze would use of resurrected heroes, they could not dispatch any Huntsmen or Huntresses to battle these foes without opening themselves wide to Grimm attacks. He was sure that in real one on one battles, Hunters were the only soldiers that they had who could stand against them.

The demon infested ship came into view of one of the interceptors, and he shook himself out of his pondering, bringing himself back to the battle.

Issuing direct commands to the interceptors directly would be difficult, but he had taken on responsibility himself. He took a deep breath, then spoke into the small microphone coming off of the side of his head. "Target in sight. Remember, this is a destruction mission. No prisoners, and no survivors. We can't let anyone affected by the taint get away."

A series of static clicks and a variety of voices saying, "Roger that." Came through his earpiece, and he gave an uncomfortable sigh, flicking his mic off again. He'd never thought he would have to order the deaths of his own people, but desperate times called for desperate measures. The whole situation left a bitter taste in his mouth, but there was nothing else that could be done.

Some part of him wished that he had switched positions with Ozpin. He had a much better, more pleasant job. He was managing the distribution of the Divinity generators to all the cities that would be receiving them. It was a much better job than being forced to kill one's own men, but Ozpin could feel a similar pain soon.

He had run some brief calculations, and found that with the number of Hunters that were currently issued, they would probably not have sufficient forces to defeat the demons. A scary reality, but the use of trainees in actual battles may have been a possibility. He despised the thought, exposing children to something like the things he saw was something that no child should ever have to go through, but if it turned out to be the only way to muster up the forces needed…

He hadn't told Ozpin about this yet. He didn't want to. He needed to check his calculations, and re-check them.

A burst of light from a screen brought his attention snapping back to the battle at hand, and he saw as a missile exploded against the hull of the commandeered airship, rending metal and wiring apart. It was good to see that the hull breaching weaponry was doing its job well enough.

The sudden rupture caused a quick change of pressure, and several bodies were blown out, tumbling towards the earth. They fell from the view of the camera mounter on the interceptor, and Ironwood knew that there was no chance that they had survived.

Another few missiles hammered into the white armor plating, and another few holes were blown through it. Normally interceptors didn't carry such powerful weaponry as this, but the situation warranted the approval of special dust charges. They were barely out of the prototyping stage, and this was the first real use on the field. He couldn't say that he was disappointed. The areas of the attacks made it clear what the interceptors were trying to do. They were aiming primarily for weapons systems, and not for the engines. They would keep the thing in the air as long as possible, and continue to blow the hell out of it until there was nothing left. Then, when it hit the ground, they would continue to barrage it with whatever they needed to. Gunships were standing by to clean up the rest of the survivors, if there were any.

It wasn't going to be clean, but it would get the job done. He had seen the kinds of things those demons could do now, and heard from Ozpin what they had done to one of his students. There was no room for mercy, no margin for error. All of those from the crash had to die, there was nothing else for them.

The weapons systems of the airship started to blaze into life, and gun turrets swiveled in the direction of the closest interceptors. They were designed to outmaneuver things like this, though, and wove their way through the bright tracer shots that streaked through the air. The addition of bullets flying through the air only slowed the damage to the airship slightly, as they were some of the most elite piolets that Ironwood had. Barely anything could touch them, and he knew that if the battle continued like this, they would all be home safe. He also knew that the battle wouldn't continue like this, though. They never did.

As if to prove his point, figures started to drop from the ship, and at first he thought that they were simply people. As they rocketed towards the ground, though, large wings unfurled from their backs, and they soared back up, pursuing the interceptors with all their might. He should have expected something like this, he supposed. Each interceptor did have a small machine gun mounted to its front, but they severely lacked maneuverability. Interceptors were not designed for prolonged dogfights, they were for quick and devastating hit-and-run.

One of them managed to place themselves directly in the path of one of the smooth jet crafts, causing the pilot to try and pull out of the way. He failed, though, and the two collided in midair. Ironwood watched through the cockpit camera as the front of the craft folded slightly under the force of the impact, but the demon stayed in one piece. It started to claw its way across the front of the craft towards the pilot, who was starting to panic. He shouted frantically to his fellows for help, and reached for the sidearm strapped to his leg. The glass of the cockpit was strong, but that demon would be able to pry it off without much issue.

Before the demon got within arm's reach of the glass, another interceptor made a pass at the two, machine gun spewing hot metal at the intruder. The craft shuddered as its armor strained to protect the innards of the machine, but the bullets also raked across the demon as well, ripping through its fleshy exterior without problem. Its strong ligaments and muscles did nothing to hold its body together against such high-powered projectiles.

Its body was torn apart, and its blood spattered the glass that it had sought to open. A few cracks in that glass appeared as bullets hit it and ricocheted off of its curvature, but the structure stayed strong.

The pilot jerked the craft upwards, and set about clearing the blood, activating wipers across the necessary parts of the screen and leaving the others bloodied.

Other demons were trying the same tactics, but the pilots learned from what they saw, and were careful to keep the winged fiends at a distance. Ironwood sent for the gunships so that they would be ready at the drop of a hat. Another barrage of explosions shook the airship, and fire started to belch from several of the holes. Several turrets stopped firing, and bore bodies tumbled out.

That was when something happened that caught Ironwood, and the pilots, totally off guard. A beam of black light blasted out from the command of the ship, and struck one of the interceptors, emitting a huge roar as the air within was superheated. After just the blink of an eye, like a lightning strike, it was gone. The interceptor that had been caught inside was gone with it, a few fragments that had been outside of the radius catching fire and falling.

For a brief moment, everyone was stunned. The pilots didn't knew what to do, Ironwood didn't know what to do, and the demons didn't know what to do.

One of the pilots spoke, voice shocked, saying, "Um, sir?" The voice on the other line swallowed a large lump in its throat before continuing, "Maybe you should see this." Ironwood obliged, looking towards the screen that correlated with that pilot's craft, and beholding what he was looking at.

A person, red clad and brazenly standing in the hole where the beam had originated from, was staring back at them. Ironwood didn't need a good quality video to see who it was, he was able to gather enough. "Cinder Fall." If she was involved, then she was at the head of this thing. He immediately started to issue orders in hopes of killing her and ending the whole conflict now. Maybe if she died, the demons wouldn't have anyone to lead them in the real world.

His orders brought his pilots back to focus, and they started to respond as he shouted, "All units, regroup! Primary target had changed! New primary goal: termination of Cinder Fall! Repeat, take out Cinder Fall, acknowledge!" He got the acknowledgements he sought, and the crafts started to change their patterns. Instead of swirling around the airship as a whole, blowing whatever they could out of it, they made tighter passes around the front, looking for an opportunity to deliver an explosive payload directly to the woman. Of course she was involved. When had anything bad ever happened when she wasn't?

None of them were able to get a clear enough shot, though. They continued to search for a good enough opening, but none presented itself. While Cinder was often out of the view of the cameras as this was going on, the pilots relayed the information to each other, as well as to Ironwood, as they say it. Most was simply saying, "She's just standing there." Or, "I think she might have moved!" but it all seemed to be of fairly low consequence. At least, up until one said, "She's bringing her hand up! There's light, or something. I, uh-"

The man's voice was cut off as another blast of noise covered it up, and his craft disappeared in the same flash that the other had. All the pilots fell silent at this, and their efforts redoubled to take Cinder down. As if to make the task harder, the demons started to close in on them as well.

Ironwood watched the screens, knowing that he had to make a choice. Two was a significant loss, and the way that the conflict was going, they were going to lose more before it was over. But still, if they could succeed, that would mean Cinder's death, no small thing indeed. He couldn't simply throw lives away, though, in hopes of attaining an unlikely goal. Even if they scored a direct hit, there was no guarantee that she would die. No, he had to wait, and pick his battles carefully. Her airship was already damaged in massive, almost crippling ways. It was spewing black smoke and fire out of most of its holes, and large pieces were starting to fall off. The thing didn't have more than a few miles left in it.

He sighed, and flicked his mic on again. "Pull back. Repeat, pull back. She's not getting far in that thing." He was bitter about it, but he knew that he had to let that go. He could move in with ground troops once the ship crashed, and then take out Cinder himself, if he decided to show up. That would be a pleasant thing to do, but the logical part of his brain reminded him that the risk would be too great. He couldn't risk exposing himself to whatever it was that had turned the crew of the ship to her side, perverting their minds into servants.

He hissed through his teeth as the interceptors moved away, speeding their way back to the nearest airfield where they could resupply and refuel. They had done a good job, but they couldn't do anything more. Now it was up to whatever forces he would be able to scrounge up to fight them on the ground. He had access to Hunters, as well as army forces, but he didn't know which would be effective against foes with powers like what he had just witnessed. With reticence, he removed the microphone and earpiece from his head, and stood, stretching his limbs. His arm gave a painful spasm, as it usually did when he found himself troubled, and he held it close, waiting for the fire to subside.

It did, slowly, and he started to cast around the room for something that might bring a little lift to his mood. His mind was heavy, and the load was starting to strain his shoulders.

When Jaune felt something stir on top of his chest, his eyes opened slowly, and he looked up. His eyes shot wide when he found Pyrrha's head as the disturbance. He didn't quite recall falling asleep in this position, but that was alright.

A sound from somewhere else in the room attracted his attention, and he looked up to find its source. When he did find it, his body jolted up, knocking Pyrrha awake rather unceremoniously. She made a startled noise and said, "Jaune, what are you-" she didn't finish her sentence, though, as Jaune put a hand over her mouth.

A noise of indignation managed to slip through his fingers, but Pyrrha didn't struggle. Instead, she just fixed Jaune with a questioning gaze, and tried to see what was going on around the room without pushing Jaune off. Jaune let her head raise slightly, and her gaze went to Nora. They widened, and Jaune felt her whole body tense up. Jaune wrapped his arms around her a little tighter, and whispered, "I think she's fixed, but I don't know. What should we do?"

He slid his hand off of Pyrrha's face, and let her sit up as well. She moved slowly, careful not to make too much noise, and let her feet brush against the ground. Jaune did the same, following her lead, mentally readying himself to deal with Nora again.

Pyrrha got to her feet, and Jaune did the same, eyes locked on Nora. He didn't know what they would do if it turned out that she wasn't fixed. She had been unbeatable in combat, at least against Jaune and Pyrrha, so he hoped that she was, in fact, free of the demon.

Her body was still draped over Ren in the bed, shaking and crying in a muted kind of way, as if she had reached the ends of her ability to feel sorrow. The very sight made Jaune start to feel bad. He felt like he had to help her, because she was suffering too much. He didn't want to speak out, though, because that would be dangerous. Pyrrha, however, didn't seem to feel the same trepidation. Or, if she did, she didn't show it. She said, "Nora, are you alright?"

Nora's crying stopped, and she became still. Both Pyrrha and Jaune stopped, and waited anxiously for her response. Nora slowly looked back at them, and both were taken aback by the expression on her face, so full of pain and regret. Tears were dripping down her face, and she looked like her spirit had been totally destroyed. It seemed that there was nothing left of the once cheerful and loving girl that had existed a few weeks ago. Now she was broken, it was clear to see.

Pyrrha reached out first, rushing to her friend's side and putting her hands on her shoulders, speaking softly in her ear, trying to make her feel better. Jaune wanted to help, but there was nothing that he could really do. He didn't know what he could possibly say to ease the weight of what Nora had done.

Pyrrha didn't have this problem, and immediately started to use her best charm and personable efforts to make Nora feel better. Jaune caught a few words of this, and what he heard made his heart feel a little heavier. "Nora, it's alright. It's all over now, you don't have to do anything anymore."

Nora made a few pathetic whimpering noises, the words, "eye", "Ren", and, "hurt", all with significant amounts of incomprehensible garble between them. Pyrrha seemed to get the general idea, though, and pulled Nora into a hug. The girl didn't have the strength to react. As this was going on, Jaune gave Ren a sad look. His eyes were still closed, and he breathed slowly. The tubes going into his arm slowly dripped fluid into his veins, keeping his body nourished in his comatose state.

As Jaune looked at him, he thought that he saw something different than before he had gone to sleep. Underneath Ren's eyelids, his eyes were darting around rapidly. His breathing was slightly rushed, and, now that he looked closely, he could see a thin layer of sweat that had formed across his skin. This wasn't how he had been before.

He reached out, and gave Ren's shoulder an experimental shake. Ren didn't wake up, but there was definitely some reaction. He gave a small moan, and seemed to roll slightly in his bed. Jaune's eyes widened, and he looked back up to the two girls with a shocked expression. Pyrrha was still in the process of consoling Nora, who was now staring at Pyrrha's eye patch, starting to cry harder.

Jaune knew that if Ren woke up, it would do a lot for Nora's psyche. He didn't know if Ren would be in a good condition when he woke up, though. If Ren was happier asleep, he wanted to keep him that way. Nora obviously needed him, though. He didn't have much of a choice in the matter, really.

He shook Ren's shoulder harder, and leaned down to his ear, whispering, "Hey, Ren, can you hear me?" There was another small groan, and Jaune took that as at least confirmation that he could be awoken. He continued, hoping that his efforts would work. "Listen, I know that you're feeling sleepy, but you've really got to get up. See, Nora is doing really bad right now, and you need to wake up to make her feel better, alright?"

Ren again gave a small moan, but his eyes still remained closed. Jaune started to feel unnerved, thinking that Ren might never wake up again. He started to sweat himself, his concern growing. "Ren, I know you can hear me, so you really have to wake up!" By this time both of the girls had moved away from the bed, Pyrrha practically dragging Nora away, and Nora not having the strength to resist. Jaune made use of this by starting to talk a little louder. "If you don't wake up, I think Nora is going to get worse. You don't want that, do you?"

Again Ren stirred just barely, but didn't wake up. Jaune sighed, and sat back up. Ren was better, somehow, but still not right. But any improvement was good, and he tried to comfort himself with that thought. He stood again, and walked over to where Nora and Pyrrha were seated. He resigned to the fact that Ren would have to wake up on his own, even though this was a difficult thing to do. It hurt, but Ren would just have to be left to his own devices. It wasn't too bad, Jaune supposed. He was going to have his hands full with Nora, he could tell.

Her body was still in the shape that it had when the demon was inside of her, and Jaune felt guilty about the thoughts going through his head. He had hoped that she would revert back to her original body, but instead Jaune found himself sickened by the impure things that his mind jumped to, especially considering the distress she was in.

He set about trying to help Pyrrha in any way that he could, doing his best to raise the girl's spirits. It didn't seem to make much of a difference, though. The best that they could do was to make her crying a little lighter.

The light of the sunset shone through the window, and offered a small degree of comfort to the three. No matter how bad things got, there was always tomorrow.

Eventually, they were able to get Nora to fall asleep. She looked like, in her dreams at least, things were going much better for her. A smile cracked across her face, and her body relaxed. Neither Jaune nor Pyrrha wanted to clean her, and risk waking her up. So instead, they left her to dream, and returned to where they had fallen asleep before. They were hungry, but there would be food in the morning. They drifted off into sleep again, slowly, and enjoyed the quiet as much as they could.