Disclaimer: RWBY is not owned by me. It is owned by Rooster Teeth. This fan-fiction is not for profit.

Warnings: This fiction will be rated T for bad language, fantasy violence, and dark themes.

Author's Note: Everything has a breaking point where it simply cannot function any further. Everything has a limit, a boiling point, a brink past which there is no return. Nothing is indestructible. Not even bonds between friends.

Requiem for Remnant

Chapter 25: From the Brink

Yang was currently picking fights with gangs.

Her boot slammed into the teeth of another gangbanger and sent him tumbling. The sound of a gun cocking came from behind. Spinning around, Yang swung Zhīshì into the gunman's stomach. He folded like a sheet of tinfoil and flew backwards with enough force to break through two weak walls in a row.

CRACK! SNAP!

Ducking down, the dragoness dodged a blade aimed at her exposed spine. Then she turned to face the latest assailant and punched his chin with a fierce uppercut. The swordsman slammed into the ceiling. His body fell to the floor along with a shower of broken debris.

The air was thick with the stench of crumbling plaster and poor life decisions. She could hear more gang members approaching. The sound of boots stomping came to a halt just outside of the door. Frantic whispers drifted through the thin wood. Yang counted five separate rifles locking and loading.

Heartbeat hastening, her veins flooded with ravenous flames. The golden strands that flowed from her crown began to glow with brighter intensity. Crimson eyes burned behind the furious Nevermore mask.

She was in no mood to wait for them to come to her.

Doubling over, Yang tackled straight through the door. It shattered into wooden fragments as though it had been hit with a breaching charge.

BANG!

Just beyond was a narrow hallway, scarcely wide enough for two people and just tall enough to let a seven-foot man hit his head on the ceiling. One of the hooligans was standing directly in her path. His open mouthed expression was priceless. She bodily slammed into the unfortunate ruffian and carried him to the opposite wall. He flattened against the wall hard enough to expel all the air from his lungs.

She grabbed his shoulders and spun around, maneuvering his body between her and the other thugs. Four guns pointed at her, but none of them fired in fear of hitting their accomplice.

Hesitation sealed their fates.

Kicking her body shield at two of the gunmen, the bruiser bum-rushed the other two. They didn't even shoot their guns before she grabbed their skulls in both of her hands and slammed them together with a sickening crack. They sank to the floor like puppets with their strings severed.

More and more enemies appeared at opposite ends hallway. They held up melee weapons and rushed both of Yang's sides. Zhīshì converted to a rocket launcher and fired a screaming missiles toward one of the inbound groups. Then she quickly turned and launched a second missile at the opposite horde. The warheads detonated on the floorboards, demolishing the rotten and aged wood below. She could feel the floor shaking beneath her boots as a domino effect of breaking support beams spelled the end of structural integrity.

Yang held Zhīshì above her head and it returned to its melee form. Fire rolled down her shoulders, igniting the very air around her. Roaring at the top of her lungs, she slammed the bludgeon onto the ground.

With a deafening splintering, the surface beneath Yang and the mooks caved in. Darkness swallowed her whole. She projected her Aura to shield her from the falling debris. Her boots hit the floor below and her knees pistoned into her chest.

"Oooof!" she expulsed as the air was knocked out of her lungs. Her diaphragm was paralyzed. Yang dropped to her knees. Her Nevermore mask slipped and clattered on the floor. For a moment, she simply focused on reflating her lungs. When she could finally inhale a breath, she picked up the monstrous visage and donned her face once more.

Ears were ringing painfully and everything in her vision swayed like a pendulum. Staggering to her feet, she shook her burning crown to clear her dazed mind. As the world gradually stabilized, she took in her immediate surroundings. When Yang dropped the floor above to the floor below, she had landed in another equally claustrophobic hallway.

Sparks of electricity showered from dangling severed wires. All of the lightbulbs in the hallway had ceased functioning. There was no illumination, except the golden radiance emanating from the luminescent dragoness herself. Choking clouds of crumbled plaster hung in the air, obstructing visibility. She could only see five feet in every direction, everything further was lost in shadows. Washed out paint and boarded up doors lined the hall. The ceiling above had completely collapsed, leaving hardwood beams and broken metal pipes scattered on the floor.

The sound of groans echoed from the darkened passage. Apparently, Yang wasn't the only one who remained conscious after falling a full floor straight down. Reaching behind her, she took out Zhīshì and prepared for the next wave of attackers.

A brilliant explosion of sparks lightened the hallway, briefly revealing an approaching group of gun-wielding thugs. Then the sparks died, leaving the hallway as black as night.

Stumbling over the debris, a gangster with a scimitar came charging into Yang's small circle of light. He brought the razor sharp edge down upon her crown, but she quickly backhanded the flat of the blade. The weapon embedded into the wall beside her. Zhīshì slammed into his stomach and sent him flying down the narrow hallway. His unconscious body careened into the inbound cluster of gunmen. They tumbled to the cheap carpet, a mass of tangled legs, arms, and firearms. Loud swears echoed off peeling wallpaper.

Someone slammed into her back and a pair of rough hands wrapped around her throat. Yang doubled over, hoisting the thug off his feet. Then she pivoted to the side and kicked off the wall in front of her. She hurtled in reverse and the thug's spine crashed through a boarded up door.

With an earsplitting CRACK, the door shattered into splinters and the two fighters fell backwards into the room beyond. Landing on top of her assailant and dropping her elbow into his stomach proved enough to loosen the stranglehold on her neck. She scrambled to her feet, then stomped the man's head into the floor for good measure.

A shabby window let moonlight in the room. Crimson eyes swept around, quickly taking inventory of its contents. No people. No furniture. Just weaponry. Racks of weapons lined the walls. Shotguns and rifles, blades and bludgeons, grenades and ammo crates.

"Finally found the weapons stash." Yang crowed internally.

Angry voices yelled from down the hall.

"She's in there!"

"The Grimm Fake fell in here!"

Yang swore that if she ever saw Rogue Froideur again, she was going to break his legs.

Sheathing the five-foot metal baseball bat, the blonde brawler prepared to end this fight. First she picked up the unconscious man on the floor by his jacket and casually tossed him through the door.

"If I were you guys, I'd pick up my beaten friends and start running away!" Yang shouted. "You made a mistake cramming so many weapons in one place!"

Anxious voices came from just outside the doorway.

"Shit, she's in the armory!"

"What's that fake think she's doing?"

"Help me pick up these guys! We can't leave them! This crazy bitch could do anything!"

She quickly reached the pile of grenades and picked up an incendiary bomb. Yang ripped off the top of a wooden crate, exposing boxes of bullets inside.

"In case you didn't know," the dragoness declared, "uncontrolled fire and ammo boxes really don't mix!"

Gripping the fire Dust grenade in one hand, Yang made sure to keep a firm grip on the safety lever. Then she hooked her finger in the pin ring and yanked.

Ping.

"And that was the sound of me pulling the pin on this fire Dust grenade."

She was met with silence. Then a chorus of vulgar exclamations,

"Oh shit!"

"That bitch!"

"Help me carry these guys! We gotta book!"

"Go, go, go!"

Yang heard noises like people picking up unconscious bodies. She started slowly counting down.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Fuck it.

Her hand relaxed and released the combustible explosive. Then she spun around and ran as fast as he could, straight toward the open window.

Blake stood beside Yang's bike, the Bumblebee, in a dirty street alleyway. A gentle breeze wafted past black locks, sifting through soft strands like velvety curtains. The air carried a familiar scent, that of her current prey. Her arms crossed and amber eyes closed, she weighed her options while muttering beneath her breath.

"Yang, where could you be?"

The feline faunus pondered on whether she should search for her hardheaded partner in the city block around, or stay by the motorcycle and wait for her to return. Yang had to be around here, but the trail was nearly cold and it was entirely possible that Blake could miss her when she returned. But there was no guarantee that Yang would be back anytime soon, and she had a promise to keep.

That's when she heard a tremendous explosion in the distance. The sound of gunfire filled the night, followed by angry shouting and wailing police sirens.

"Ah, there you are."

The blast wave struck Yang in the back just as she was diving through the window. It was like being slapped by a gigantic hand. She felt the wind get knocked out of her for the second time. Vision tunneled until there was only a pinprick of light remaining. Squeezing her eyes shut, she called upon what remained of her Aura to form a protective cocoon. Finally, she curled into a tight ball and prayed for a soft landing.

Heat and flames engulfed the dragoness. She had enough experience with both to know that she was not fireproof.

Somersaulting through the air like a blazing ragdoll, Yang couldn't tell up from down. Cracking her eyes open, she peered between her knees and arms. The world spun around her in a nauseating kaleidoscope of glowing orange and deep dark blue. Had she been wearing Ember Celica, she could have possibly fired a volley of rounds fast enough to stabilize her flight. Unfortunately, her shotgun-gauntlets were currently waiting for her back at Junior's nightclub.

Yang saw her landing zone an instant before she slammed into it. The impact jostled every joint in her body. Her teeth rattled together. It felt like electrified needles were drilling through her jaw. Without slowing, her body bounced and slid along rough brick. Her knees dragged across the abrasive surface until she tucked into a roll. Evenly distributing the damage was the best bet to coming out of this marginally unscathed.

Finally, the rollercoaster came to a halt and the blonde laid flat on her back. She reached up and tore the mask off, letting cool night air wash across her sweltering face. Every breath was like a scorching sword stabbing into her side. Her entire body was a roadmap of agony. Her knees were grated bloody, elbows were stinging sorely, ears were ringing excruciatingly, skull was pounding like a drum, and every solitary vertebra in her spine ached. Soaked bone deep in pain, Yang stared up at the moonlit sky and grinned.

"This is what it feels like to be fucking alive."

The distinct odor of burning fabric wafted into her nostrils. Springing to her feet, she quickly began to swat at the lingering flames that clung to her clothes. The raven feather garland was beyond saving, so it was ripped off and cast aside. The crimson skirt around her hips was left with black scorch marks.

Once her clothes were extinguished, she finally took a look around to see where she had landed. There was a noticeable depression surrounded by jagged cracks. Had she dropped much lower, Yang would have smashed against the side of the building instead of landing on the roof. Her bones would likely be paste. A streak of red leading from the crater reminded her of the pain in her knees. She could feel her Aura staunching the blood flow and mending her shredded skin.

That didn't stop it from hurting like a bitch.

She knelt down and picked the mask off the ground. Then she placed it on her face and stepped to the edge of the roof. As soon as Yang realized where she was, her mouth dropped open. The criminal hideout that she had just destroyed was on the other side of the road. The explosion had launched her so far through the air that she had flown clear over the street below.

Standing on the brink, Yang gazed at the den she had exited via defenestration. The entire floor was engulfed in enormous flames that erupted from the windows. Voracious tongues of fire licked up the sides of the building. Sparks jettisoned from the inferno, dancing in the air like glowing flower petals. Tar-black smoke clouds rolled upward, blotting out the cityscape. The whole structure would be devoured by flames before the firefighters could even arrive. Groups of thugs poured out of the burning building like rats from a sinking boat. Some of them were carrying unconscious bodies.

The heat from the fire swept past the Ancient Nevermore mask. Sun kissed tresses sailed on blistering winds as Yang stood on the edge of the roof. Radiant orange embers soared toward the starlit sky, forming fleeting constellations above her crown. The light from the firestorm was bright enough to throw her shadow far behind her back.

So engrossed was she, listening to the roaring flames, that Yang didn't hear someone join her on the roof.

Blake reached the rooftop and emerged behind a woman with familiar golden hair. Citrine eyes flitted between the blonde and the blazing inferno. She could feel the heat on her face, even at this distance. The fragrant smell of burning wood filled her sensitive nose.

The woman's frame was silhouetted against the flickering conflagration. Blake crept behind her, keeping within the deep shadow she cast. Her boots made no sound as she approached, a technique learned from a lifetime of concealing herself from detection. With a start, the faunus realized that this person was not dressed like Yang. Instead of the leather biker gear, the woman was adorned with a dark kimono with a scarlet sash. Furthermore, Ember Celica was not on her wrists. Instead, there was a metal tube strapped across her lower back.

Unease coiled in her stomach like a restless snake. Reflexively, her hand drifted toward Gambol Shroud.

She called out, "Yang? Is that you? What are you doing here?"

Yang heard a familiar voice behind her.

"Yang? Is that you? What are you doing here?"

Without thinking, she faced the speaker.

The blonde haired woman abruptly turned around.

A ghastly mask of Grimm obscured her face.

Crimson burned like fire behind the visage.

Every fiber of Blake's body froze like ice.

Feline ears flattened to her crown.

Her heart stopped beating.

Amber eyes grew wide.

She couldn't breathe.

Teeth clenched.

"White Fang."

Blake's body responded faster than her mind. In an instant, she gripped Gambol and drew the two-foot katana from Shroud. The stygian sword rasped as it was extracted. Shroud's razor edge hissed as she held the sharpened sheath like a cleaver. Wielding Gambol in one hand and Shroud in the other, Blake fell into a fighting stance.

Gambol collapsed upon itself and a gun muzzle emerged from beneath the blade. Then a recent upgrade revealed itself, a built-in silencer which extended from the barrel. Blake leveled the handgun at the White Fang. The woman was frozen completely still, making it shockingly easy to land a bead on her head.

She squeezed the trigger.

Gambol fired as silent as a murmur.

The White Fang dropped to her bloody knees and rolled beneath the path of the bullet. She reached behind her back and pulled out her weapon. It telescoped into the shape of a five-foot long baseball bat.

Blake leaped into the air toward her adversary.

She slashed Shroud at the masked terrorist's eyes.

People generally have a reaction to attacks directed at their eyeballs. A regular person who witnesses a fast-moving object heading for their face will flinch in surprise. Even battle-hardened Hunters may instinctively project their Aura around their skulls in a desperate attempt to protect the soft spherical organs. But by strengthening their Aura in one area, they simultaneously weaken their Aura around the rest of their body. Two-pronged attacks are effective against Huntsmen and Huntresses for this very reason. When they focus on the first attack they can see, then secondary strikes can slip beneath their Aura.

Even as Shroud slashed at the White Fang's mask, Gambol's blade unfolded and stabbed toward her exposed stomach.

The enemy held her baseball bat vertically in both hands.

Shroud glanced off the barrel of the bludgeon.

Gambol's blade was deflected by the handle.

Both attacks were repelled by a single defense.

"This woman is good!" Blake was loath to admit.

Slamming her feet into the club, the faunus kicked off her opponent's weapon and sent her stumbling back toward the edge of the roof. Blake flipped through the air gracefully and landed on all fours. The White Fang skidded in reverse until her heels were hanging off the brink. She flailed her hands wildly as she teetered back and forth, half on the roof and half over the street.

"Don't let up!"

Kicking off the ground, Blake closed the distance between them in an instant. Her katana plunged toward the helpless White Fang's throat.

A familiar voice screamed.

"Blake! Stop!"

Gambol halted in mid-attack, the razor tip directly beneath the White Fang's chin. From behind the mask, fearful lilac met angry amber. Blake sucked in a sharp breath as realization dawned upon her.

The blonde began to topple backwards. Blake seized the woman's collar with one hand and planted her feet wide apart. She grunted in exertion as she pulled her opponent back onto the roof. Without waiting a second, the other hand roughly grabbed the grim facade and ripped it away.

Yang stared back fearfully.

Blake's eyes traded between her partner and the mask in her hand. A pained expression passed over her face. She looked like she had just been punched in the stomach. Brunette eyebrows gathered into knots. Fingers balled into tight fists. Gritting her teeth, she flung the blonde and slammed her bodily on the rooftop.

"What," Blake seethed through clenched fangs, "the hell," eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, "are you doing, Yang?!" she shouted at the top of her lungs.

Groaning, Yang picked herself up and faced her livid partner.

"Blake," she wheezed, "this isn't what it looks like."

"Oh? It's not?" Blake growled, "Do you even know what it looks like?"

Her hand swept back toward the burning building behind her.

"Because, what it looks like is that my partner is committing acts of terrorism…"

She held the Grimm mask above her head and threw it at Yang's feet. It bounced off the floor with a sharp crack.

"…while wearing the mask of terrorists!"

Yang staggered back.

Horrified, "No! That's not what's happening at all! Those guys in the building weren't innocent civilians, but criminals! It was an illegal weapon stash. That's why I destroyed it! The reason it's burning so fast is because I set off an incendiary grenade, along with crates of Dust bullets!"

Blake stood in silent consideration. Then she spoke in a low voice, "Dust bullets? I guess that explains the gunfire I heard earlier."

"Right! I'm not doing the same thing as the White Fang!" Yang insisted.

"Well, then why are you wearing a mask of the White Fang?" The faunus shouted. "Why are you dressed like that? Tell me what's going on!"

Lilacs wilted and reduced to burning red carnations. Flickering flames flowed along her golden hair. Her voice was as hard as tempered steel, "This is something I need to do."

"What is it? What are you doing?!" Blake cried out frantically.

Yang jabbed her thumb into her chest. "I'm handling it by myself."

Yelling in frustration, "Are you?!" Blake thrust a finger at the mask on the ground, "Because that does not look like you're handling it!"

"It's part of the plan!" The dragoness growled.

Shaking her brunette crown, "Is that supposed to comfort me? Because it doesn't. You are getting worse! You are spiraling out of control!"

"I'm in complete control!" Yang thundered.

"Like hell you are!" Blake screamed. "You're rampaging around the city, getting into fights for no good reason, and coming home bruised and bloody! If that's part of your plan, then you're even worse than I ever thought possible! You're so far out of control that I can't even understand anything you say!"

Yang stomped on the roof hard enough to splinter the surface. A blistering gale swirled around, casting dust in the air. She stood in the center of a growing blaze and roared, "You don't need to understand me! You just need to trust me!"

"No! I don't!" Blake bellowed.

The scorching winds ceased in an instant. Yang stared at Blake with wide eyes.

"I don't trust you! I can't trust you! You've let anger take control of you! The last time I placed my trust someone who wore the mask of hatred, I lost myself to hatred too!"

Frozen, the golden Huntress could only stand still as Blake screamed.

"It's happening all over again, just the same as before! My partner is shutting me out, refusing to see reason, growing angrier all the time, and finally wearing that goddamn mask!"

Yang remained as motionless as a statue.

"I thought things would change with a different partner! I thought that you would be different! But you're not! You're so much like him! Hot tempered and bullheaded beyond belief! As soon as you set out on a path, absolutely nothing can change your mind!"

She pointed an accusing finger at Yang.

"Well I've already seen where this path goes. I've lived there for so much of my life!"

Blake shook her head. Dark locks swirled around her crown like an angry tornado. She stomped the ground, grinding the gravel beneath her heel.

crunch

"I can't…"

crunch

"I won't…"

CRUNCH

"I refuse to follow anyone down that path again! Walking that road nearly cost me my soul!"

Blake's chin fell to her chest. She gripped her shoulders tightly. Her words cracked.

"It was the most agonizing thing I've ever done, liberating myself from the toxic influences around me. But once I was finally free, I finally felt like myself for the first time in so long! It was like I could finally breathe again."

She sucked down a shaky lungful of air.

"It was then that I made a promise to myself, that I would never let anyone drag me down again. In the end, I decided that my biggest mistake was not leaving sooner."

Bitterness saturated her words.

"Now it's happening all over again, all the signs are there. You're turning out just like him. I can't bear the sight of watching another person I care about fall into darkness. I won't watch history repeat itself. I refuse to make the same mistake again."

Yang asked softly, "Blake… what are you saying?"

Blake chewed her lower lip in silence. She squeezed her shoulders until her knuckles blanched.

Voice quavering, "I—I have tried to help you. I have tri—tried to pull you off this path. But it hasn't worked, and you refuse to let anyone talk reason to you. It's clear now that there's nothing more I can do here. You aren't going back to the way you were, not even when your sister begs you."

She stepped backwards.

"Please, don't do this…" Yang sounded brittle.

Blake took another step back. Tears rolled down her face as she sobbed, "I—I wish I hadn't picked you to be my partner. Maybe you would have found someone stronger. M—maybe another person c—could have saved you. But I can't. I'm too—too much of a c—coward."

Another foot retreated. And then another.

"I'm sorry!" Yang blurted out desperately. "Please believe me! I'm sorry!"

The faunus didn't falter. "It's too late. He used to apologize too, for everything he said that he had to do. But he didn't stop. All he did was stop saying sorry."

Yang's feet remained fixed in place. Her hand reached toward her friend.

Blake turned away. "That's exactly same thing that I saw Adam do."

She reached the opposite side of the rooftop, the end of the line.

"Yang wasn't my first partner, but she will probably be my last."

Eyes gazed over the edge. There would be no coming back.

Desolation churned in her heart, dread of total isolation.

Closing amber eyes, she prepared to leave it all behind.

"I'm sorry, Ruby. I couldn't keep my promise to you."

For the second time, she would forsake her family.

Sighing solemnly, she whispered, "Goodbye."

Yang burst into hot tears and screamed,

"PLEASE DON'T ABANDON ME!"

Breath catching in her throat, Blake willed herself to leap off the brink. To run away, and keep running into an uncertain future. To disappear in the wind.

But she couldn't.

The weight in her chest kept her rooted to the ground. She simply couldn't bear the concept being all alone in the world once more. To lose everything all over again was a thought too terrible to endure. Her eyes filled with tears. She clenched a fist over her breast. Ruby, Weiss, and even Yang. The pain of never seeing them again was like ripping out her own heart.

Blake had a choice before her. She could either give into fear of watching Yang become another Adam, and run away from the friends who love her.

Or

she could try to save her partner

one last time.

Squeezing her hands together, Blake turned around. Yang was kneeling on the ground, hands over her eyes. Her shoulders quaked as she sobbed hysterically. Broken whispers of "please don't go" wafted into feline ears.

Adam never shed a tear for his sins.

Mind made up, the faunus marched back toward Yang. As she approached, she could feel the temperature rising radically around the dragoness. The air rippled like a mirage. Heat pricked at her forehead. Perspiration trickled down her face and neck.

"This is a fight that I will not run from!" she set her jaw resolutely.

Standing over Yang's boiling hot body, Blake opened her mouth and declared.

"Give me a reason!"

Bleary carnations rose up to meet determined ocher.

"Give me a reason." she repeated softer. "Tell me what has happened to make you this way."

"I—I'm so sorry!" Yang bawled miserably. She grabbed her head between both hands and squeezed, as if trying to crush her skull. The blonde lamented, "I'm just so—so goddamn angry all the time and I can't stop it! I've been trying to keep it stored in my oasis! But it keeps breaking out faster than I can bottle it in!"

"But why?" Blake dropped to her knees and grabbed Yang's hands. They felt hot, like a burning stove top. She could feel her skin baking. Grimacing in pain, "Why are you so angry?"

Face contorting in agony, "It—it's like s—s—she just poured hot lava in my belly… and it's burning through my stomach lining." Yang doubled over, "I'm just so angry and it hurts so much…"

Blake brought her face close to Yang's. It was like being directly in front of a blacksmith's forge.

Begging anxiously, "Who is she? Who did this to you?!"

Feline eyes searched draconian orbs. Once again, a war was being waged within Yang's mind.

Scarlet and lilacs clashed in her eyes. Every time the color red was about to overpower purple, Blake's heart leaped into her throat.

Squeezing Yang's calloused hands, she said one last heartfelt plea, "Please! I don't want to lose another friend!"

Yang froze. Every muscle in her body was tense as coiled steel. She sucked in a shuddering breath and held it. Blonde eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. Her chin fell to her chest. It was as though she had suddenly begun to meditate.

Neither girl breathed.

Golden flames burned out.

Cool nighttime air washed upon Blake's sweat-slicked brow.

Then,

the dragoness lifted her crown.

Amethysts met amber.

"I found her."

Yang whispered in a voice full of anguish.

"I found my mother."

End chapter 25: From the Brink

A girl with abandonment issues is partnered with another girl who runs away from all her problems. Those are the ingredients to a recipe for disaster. Thankfully, Blake's managed to fight her instincts and break through Yang's walls.

Now the question is, how will Blake react to Yang's story?