Chapter 3

Pyrrha's fist hurt. She held it against her target, relishing the feeling of pain running up her arm. Eyes shut, she threw another punch and felt the same pain, smiling as she imagined her true opponent before her. Cinder Fall. Another punch struck, then another, and another. One by one she threw each blow with determination into her imagined enemy before she finally relented and opened her eyes to see the damage.

The concrete pillar was cracking. Not broken, not about to fall, and not nearly good enough. Her eyes narrowed as she threw another punch into the pillar, seeing small chips come free from the same spot she'd been hitting again and again. Many years ago when Pyrrha had begun her Huntress training, they had needed a space for her to practice, and had converted their at the time garage into her gym. At first they had begun with small and simple workout machines and open space for her to move, and added on more items each year. With a Huntress level of strength however, training dummies and the like were unable to last long periods before they broke, and using steel reinforced concrete pillars covered with foam padding was common for practicing moves against.

When Pyrrha had decided she'd wanted to train however, she'd removed all padding. Her aura gave her all the protection she needed, and she would happily burn through cash as required to repair her targets, though sadly that would take her longer than expected. Pyrrha may have ranked firmly at the top of her year at Beacon, but that hadn't meant she hadn't been training hard and improving to maintain her position, and now back in her younger body she had underestimated just how much weaker she was. She was still a champion fighter, and the strongest who would be arriving at Beacon, but her strengths laid in agility and flexibility, not… strength.

With another punch she hit harder, throwing her all behind the blow and seeing marginal improvements. Her fists continued to beat down against the pillar, and she wished she'd spent more time training with Yang to learn her training regime, not fully appreciating how satisfying it must have been to be able to smash things with her hands all the time.

Her punches transitioned into a kick and her results improved. She was fast, and could twist her body at a moments notice, so spinning to put all of her body's power behind a roundhouse kick felt far more satisfying. But satisfaction wasn't what she was after, this wasn't about soothing her bruised ego, this was about being better. She couldn't settle for just being the best at Beacon, she needed to hit a higher level than she could imagine, higher even than Cinder, her very life depended on it.

So she returned to her blows, hitting again and again before she finally started making progress through the pillar. Her fist came crashing through the side, a chunk of concrete flying off just as an alarm buzzed, her aura in the red and warning her to stop. On the other side of the hole, was another sign to stop.

Her mother looked at her with near tears in her eyes.

"Pyrrha, what are you doing?" She wasn't trying to shame her, but still Pyrrha looked away, inspecting her undamaged fist instead. "You're meant to be on bed rest, taking it easy, not… this."

"I'm sorry mom." It was instinctual, but not untrue, and she felt immediate shame for worrying her mother so.

"But why are you doing this? This isn't like you, this isn't how you train."

"I-…" Words failed her, and she bit back to reveal only partial truth. "I needed to hit something, to feel strong again."

Her mother's body language shifted, and she wrapped up her daughter in a hug full of warmth before Pyrrha could react. "Oh sweetie, I'm so sorry. This is all because of that dream isn't it?"

Pyrrha nodded numbly as she gently reached out to embrace her mother in kind. "I was too weak there and it cost me everything. I can't go through that again. I need to be strong enough."

"You are strong Pyrrha," her mother was quick to reassure, "but… I know you might not feel that way. Listen, if you really feel like need to do something, then that's okay. If you want to change your training, we'll be there for you. But you did this without telling us, and this isn't safe, you've destroyed the pillar!"

Pyrrha thought it an overreaction on her mother's side. The pillar wasn't structural, and she remembered how much damage her team and RWBY had caused in the food fight alone. But she wouldn't argue. If her mother wanted her to only be honest and warn them about what she was going to do, then she could at least do that much. There would be arguments to come, requests that she take it easy and rest… those she would need to argue against. But later.

"Sorry mom, I'll let you know when I'm going to do something."

Her mothers face lit up at the promise, and she gave her daughter another squeeze before letting her go.

"Okay then, thank you. I actually came to get you because Azuli is here. She's speaking to your dad at the moment but of course she wanted to see you."

Right, her modelling career. Pyrrha almost waved it off immediately, telling her mother to let the woman go, none of it would matter any more with what she now knew. But Azuli had never been terrible to her, and any issues she had with her career were in a sense of Pyrrha's own doing. They had hired Azuli to do the job they asked her to, and Azuli had done it tremendously. So, if Pyrrha was going to end things then the least she deserved was to hear it face to face.

"Right, we should talk."

Perhaps Azuli deserved more respect than Pyrrha sitting down to fire her dressed in sweaty training clothes, but Pyrrha had no intention of being finished for the day. Besides, Azuli had seen her in all manner of sweat and grime before, always greeting her after matches to congratulate her, this was nothing new.

When Pyrrha entered the living room where her father and agent were speaking, it was obvious there was some degree of tension between them. Her father cared only for his daughter's well-being, and Azuli did as well, though she did so by trying to be the best agent she could, and that had clearly been rubbing her dad the wrong way.

Still, when the two noticed her arrival, both were all smiles and up on their feet to see her.

"Pyrrha, my darling, I'm so happy to see you up and about, you look much better than before." Azuli didn't fully embrace her on account of her sweating, but did enough for a quick and casual hug. "I'm so terribly sorry to hear about everything that happened. I'd have sent flowers to your room but look at you, bouncing back stronger than ever."

She was all smiles and compliments the same way Pyrrha was whenever she'd had to do her media appearances, which was of course no surprise. Pyrrha had learned from her after all.

"Thank you Azuli, I know you must have been frustrated about the Pumpkin Pete's job."

"Oh, pish posh." She waved it off theatrically as they all took their seats, her parents together on the sofa while Azuli and Pyrrha took a chair each. "It's their loss really, and there are always new opportunities around the door. Now I know you've been through a lot of course, so I went ahead and looked through a few options over the next few weeks." She was already handing a prepared file over to Pyrrha before she could say anything. "Just let me know how long you need off, and we'll put a plan together."

"I actually wasn't planning to do any more modelling." Pyrrha said, putting the file away without looking at it. "I think with what happened, and my going to Beacon soon, I just need to focus on my training. Only on my training."

"I see." For a moment, Azuli let the mask drop, the real disappointment on her face palpable. Azuli didn't hold herself as strictly around Pyrrha as she did with others, always being relatively honest with her about her emotions. "Well, I can't say that's good to hear. I understand where you are coming from, but I had prepared based on the full Beacon timeline."

Guilt gnawed at her, but Pyrrha smothered it within herself. This was about people's lives, Azuli could afford a few missed pay checks in comparison.

"Sorry, but my training is too important, and I can't be limiting myself for the sake of my model appearance."

"I understand." Azuli didn't look deflated, not fully, but there were signs of acceptance of Pyrrha's decision. "Well, I hadn't just organised photo shoots. If appearance is an issue, we can skip those, there are plenty of other options; guest appearances at schools, interviews with Atlas News Network or Mistral Local News, the Schnee gala-"

Azuli continued speaking but Pyrrha zoned out. Prepared to cut her off and reaffirm her stance, Pyrrha instead found herself considering the gala. She had never gone before since such a public appearance would have been very uncomfortable for her. Being complimented relentlessly for her talents, having to put up fake smiles and polite responses to adoring fans, those just being polite, or the creeps who desired her for other purposes. She had dealt with such a situation before at a much smaller event, and it had been so terrible she'd vowed never to do another, and had rejected every such offer citing scheduling conflicts, including many previous invites from the Schnee's themselves.

But Weiss would be there, and knowing the girl as she did now she found herself desiring the opportunity to meet with her. She didn't know exactly what she would do, give Weiss advice to train harder? It seemed redundant, but perhaps she could warn her to focus more on fighting a human opponent, rather than being so experienced towards Grimm, except even that didn't help. Weiss had been trained as a fencer, and Pyrrha had sparred against her more than enough to know she held great potential. But remembering how Weiss had fared against opponents like on the Mountain Glenn train, there was something that needed to change.

Attitude.

Weiss had the same issue that frankly all of them had, they just weren't ready to face the type of people who were out there. The Grimm were monsters, easy to fight with no hesitation, but people? They needed a mindset change, to accept what those monsters would do to them if given the chance. Cinder had been given the chance, and she hadn't hesitated for a second. What if it was Weiss who had ended up in that tower? Or if the fight on the train had gone a little differently?

Mentally, Pyrrha shook her head and pushed the thought away. She wouldn't imagine such terrible possibilities. Instead, she would come up with a plan for Weiss.

When Pyrrha mentally returned to the living room, Azuli was busy discussing the benefits of such job opportunities with her parents, both of whom were sticking by their daughter in arguing against any such action.

"I'll do the gala, the Schnee gala."

Surprise came over them all, but as was expected Azuli was the first to recover. "Excellent. The gala is in a weeks' time, I'll book the flight tonight, standard seating as we always do, I'll get you the details when it's booked. Do you need your one of your parents coming?"

"Wait, hang on." Her mother cut in before she could answer. "Pyrrha, are you sure about this? I thought you wanted to focus on your training?"

Pyrrha formulated an excuse in her mind. "I heard that Weiss Schnee is considering going to Beacon. If it's true, then it would help with my training to meet her."

"You heard about that? I'm surprised, Jacques Schnee has apparently been trying to keep it quiet, I don't think he's too pleased."

"Azuli, please." Her mother cut off Azuli with a side eye as she focused on her daughter. "Pyrrha, are you sure about this? This is a sudden change from what you were saying a moment ago, and before then you were training much harder than you're supposed to. This is a lot of quick changes for you, are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine mom." She reached out to put a comforting hand on her mothers' knee, though from the grimace in response she clearly didn't fully believe it. "Don't worry. This is just a simple visit. Eat some food, shake some hands, that's it."

"I believe Mr Schnee may want for you to give a brief demonstration." Azuli cut in, making Pyrrha roll her eyes at the addition.

"Okay so I do a few flips as well, it's nothing I can't handle."

Her mother bit her lip in consideration, flicking her eyes to her husband as they shared a silent conversation with each other. Pyrrha knew she had won when she saw the sag in her mothers' shoulders, even before she sighed and agreed to allow it.

"But I don't want you travelling alone."

"I won't be alone, Azuli will be by my side the whole way." Typically Pyrrha travelled with at least one of her parents for her work trips, especially if it was out of town work, but in the lead up to Beacon she had managed to get them to agree to more independent travel and freedom for her. If she was going to be on her own, relatively speaking, better she get some experience first. "It's not a long flight away, and it's Atlas, they wouldn't let anything go wrong. You can reach me from any of the terminals at the CCT, they'll reach directly to the Schnee manor. I mean, I'm sure they would."

She only actually knew that was the case because Weiss had told her so, but it would have been a safe assumption anyway, so her parents believed her last-minute addition. The grumbling from her parents wasn't surprising, but they remained accepting of their daughters wishes.

"Ok. But you have to call us each night, or at least have some kind of message sent. And do the same when you reach the hotel."

"Don't worry mom, I've done this plenty of times remember?"

"Unfortunately so, but I hate it every time." Her mother turned back to Azuli. "Fine, you know what to do, we'll let you sort out the arrangements. But no other trips."

Pyrrha's agent held up her hands in surrender, knowing not to push her luck. "Don't worry, last one, I promise." She stood up, collecting her things. "I'll send you the details by Scroll by tonight Pyrrha, but until then I'll get out of your hair and let you rest." She hesitated as Pyrrha stood to see her out, before pulling Pyrrha in for an embrace. "It really is good to see you looking better. You had me worried for a minute there kiddo, don't do it again alright?"

It was a moment of tenderness that took her by surprise, and before she knew it she'd given polite farewells and was out of the door.

Her parents said goodbye to her before turning back to Pyrrha, giving her the same talk they always did before she travelled. Make sure she had everything she needed, that she didn't speak to anyone she shouldn't, that she was always careful to act like she was on camera, since she may very well have been. Their concern was appreciated even if her reputation meant much less to her now than before, but she made a show of considering it anyway.

A quick retirement to shower and change had her back in her room and collecting her weapons and armour. She didn't put them on, but she did inspect herself in the mirror and considered. There was something she needed from her armour, but she couldn't place her finger on what. It fit her perfectly, both physically and for her fighting style, but that wasn't enough. If she was going to adjust, then the first thing that needed to happen was to leverage the assets she had.

Her semblance was strong, and a key factor in making her so formidable in the ring. But subtlety didn't matter much to her anymore, so it was time to use it more proactively. She made a few mental ideas before heading to her gym and towards one piece of equipment in particular.

Part of typical Huntsman training when they went to training academies was crafting one's own weapon, which required a forge held at the school. But Pyrrha, being the champion fighter that she was had spent many years adjusting her equipment through many fine details until it was perfect, it was part of why she had been able to create a weapon so versatile and still use all aspects with such versatility. Of course, even Pyrrha's money couldn't afford to fit an entire Huntsman forge into their house, but she did have a decent halfway method.

The 3D printer was an advanced model brought direct from Atlas, and able to craft items based on any design and forge them from almost any material. This included various metals, and could theoretically be used to near instantly forge herself anything she desired so long as she designed it correctly, it couldn't hold quite up to the level of Huntsman equipment produced properly through a forge. However for modifications and testing, it would do just fine.

She started up the computer sat next to it and set to work, opening up the design specs of her current armour profile. An aspect of her modelling she'd never really appreciated was that it forced her to hold the same physical shape, making equipment management very easy. That was all about to go out the window, but she had accepted that.

On the computer screen there was an overlay of her armour on a wireframe version of her body that they had scanned into the system. It had options to show flesh as well, useful for seeing specific coverage, but not currently necessary. She had several pre-built designs from over the years that she cycled through looking over her options. Not yet eager to create new designs, she grabbed what she could and began to drag and drop sections into place.

There would be a simple set of connecting cloths, nothing strong enough for battle, and she would only do the one side, but she sent it to the printer anyway. Despite having queued up several items in advance, it still took a fair while for the whole set to be produced, and she'd killed time by continuing her workout, albeit with much less intensity.

Fresh from the printer, she took the items and began assembling them along her arm. Her lack of practice at Beacon instantly reared its head as she fumbled through several small mistakes and had to re-print a few different models when she realised she hadn't fully considered her ways to tie to all together.

The final product looked quite frankly, an embarrassment. Random bits of string tying plates in place with dangling threads she hadn't cut to tidy up, and a rub against her flesh that would become quickly annoying without some sort of padding or adjustment, but it was a start. All along her arm was a mix of plates and chain mail that would give her flexibility with more protection, albeit the weight difference was already stark.

She gave a few test flexes, ensuring that her movement was all that she wanted. There was a couple spots where the plates pressed against each other, and for a highly flexible fighting style like hers that would cause serious problems, but she was confident that she could fix that with iterations. At the end of her arm was her new gauntlet. New was relative, since it was actually a very old design from before she had settled on her weapon and found it far too limiting. So this time when printing it, she had stripped off sections of the fingers to save time while she reviewed the rest of it.

A few shadow jabs and one against a dummy suggested it worked as intended, but now she really needed to test it. Holding her arm flat and level in front of her, she squinted at the metal and concentrated, the familiar black aura shimmering around the metal. Her expertise with aura had been designed to allow her to make small adjustments instinctually, whether that be the movements of her own weapon or an opponents. For anything stronger, she normally had to mimic the movements herself. Trying to combine the two methods, she moved her arm slightly, but put most of her focus through her semblance to move the metal.

It was awkward and uncomfortable, but after a while she had enough of a groove in place to practice. Turning to her damaged concrete pillar from earlier, she looked over the damage she'd managed to cause with her bare hands, and raised the gauntleted fist. One punch, with perfect form and accelerated by her semblance smashed into the pillar and crunched through the concrete.

Shrapnel slid across the floor as she held her arm in place, looking at the damage. Not only to the pillar, but also to her gauntlet. The protective metal over her fists had completely dented inwards and was digging against her knuckles. The metal from her printer was weaker, but not by this much, she would need to work on the design for some time before she sent it off to be built proper. But…

Looking over the concrete pillar, now missing another solid chunk from its side, she imagined Cinder Fall's face in it's place, and threw another punch.