The corridors of the LUCID base was a little quiet that morning, humming with energy and the distant rhythm of ventilation systems which echoed like the heartbeat of a great, unseen machine. Pyrrha Nikos walked them with steady strides, her crimson-lined armor whispering quietly against itself as she moved, each step confident.
Across her back was her spear, hung in a magnetic clasp. It gleamed faintly under the lights, the polished edges reflecting streaks of gold.
Milo.
That was what she'd started calling it.
The habit had sort of begun as a joke, or perhaps a small rebellion against the base's formal cataloging system. Every operative's gear had a code: serial number, model production batch and function category. But in the field, names had started to mean something more. They carried a sense of familiarity, personality and identity.
Pyrrha had heard from Ruby and Jaune that they had named their weapons.
Jaune named his blades—Lux Aeterna and Crocea Mors. Poetic in a sense, but fitting for him. She'd seen how he fought with Lux Aeterna and how he'd changed in such a short time. The names suited the person he was becoming.
Then there was Ruby, ever the enthusiast, who had proudly christened her scythe as Crescent Rose. That one had made Pyrrha smile. It had a certain charm—romantic, even.
And of course, there was Mocha.
Pyrrha exhaled through her nose, the faintest trace of a smirk touching her lips. Mocha's naming sense, as always, walked the line between absurd and endearing. The girl had recently commissioned a standard issue compound bow that could convert aura into pure kinetic projectiles. When asked what she planned to name it, Mocha had declared—without a hint of irony—Aimbot.
Pyrrha still wasn't sure whether to laugh or sigh.
Still, the idea had stuck with her. Naming weapons gave them meaning. A kind of bond between wielder and tool, a reminder that even in the cold sterility of technology, there was room for human sentiment.
Which was why her spear had become Milo.
Her sidearm rifle—sleek, efficient and nameless—had yet to earn one. Maybe, when it proved itself in battle.
She was just approaching the Simulation Room wing when the echo of voices reached her. She slowed instinctively, footsteps softening against the steel floor. Around the corner, through the open door of the vending alcove, two familiar figures stood—one dressed in the sharp, ceremonial whites of the Atlas military, the other in standard issue customized LUCID rune frame, trimmed with light-blue.
Winter and Weiss Schnee.
The resemblance was unmistakable—both carried themselves with discipline and refinement. But Pyrrha had met Weiss often enough to tell the difference in presence. Where Weiss still carried a sense of hesitant youth beneath her composed exterior, Winter was pure control. Every gesture deliberate and every word measured.
Pyrrha hadn't meant to overhear, but their voices carried in the echoing corridor.
"—your defense of him... is admirable, Weiss," Winter was saying, her tone gentle but firm. "However, what he's doing now… it's not for our good. It's for control."
"I know," Weiss replied quietly. "But he's still our father."
Winter sighed. The sound was soft, restrained, yet somehow heavy. "Being family doesn't excuse his actions. He's crossed lines in his research that... I'm surprised LUCID would even condone. You've seen the reports."
Weiss didn't respond immediately. Her fingers traced the edge of the vending machine's glass absentmindedly.
"Then what would you have me do?" she asked after a moment, her voice carrying that brittle edge Pyrrha recognized all too well—the sound of someone fighting to keep composure.
"Just… focus on your work," Winter said after a pause. "You're doing well here. Better than a lot of recruits. Father has no hold over here, so... don't let him in your head."
Pyrrha caught the faintest tremor in Weiss's nod.
Winter's tone softened. "I'll contact you once I'm back in Atlas. There's another operation in Vale here tonight that I need to oversee."
With that, she placed a gloved hand briefly on Weiss's shoulder—a rare gesture of tenderness—then turned on her heel and strode away down the corridor, shoes clicking in perfect rhythm.
Weiss lingered behind, staring blankly at the drink selections in the machine, though Pyrrha doubted she was seeing any of them.
For a moment, Pyrrha hesitated. This was private. Family business. She could just keep walking, pretend she hadn't seen anything. But something about Weiss's stillness—the quiet slump of her shoulders—made that impossible.
She approached quietly, feet barely making a sound.
"Hey," Pyrrha said softly.
Weiss startled just slightly, then composed herself, blinking quickly as if to erase any trace of emotion. "Oh—Pyrrha. I didn't see you there."
"I didn't mean to eavesdrop," Pyrrha said. "I was just heading to the sim rooms."
"It's fine," Weiss said quickly, almost too quickly. "I was just… talking with my sister."
Pyrrha nodded gently. "I gathered that."
Weiss sighed, a small exhale that deflated her perfect posture for half a second. "She worries too much."
"Maybe..." Pyrrha commented. "Or maybe she just cares."
Weiss didn't answer right away. Her gaze lingered on the glass of the vending machine. She pressed a button absentmindedly, and a bottle of chilled electrolyte water dropped with a soft clunk.
"Family is complicated," Weiss murmured.
Pyrrha smiled faintly. "Always."
For a moment, the silence stretched. Then Pyrrha shifted the spear on her back, tapping the edge of the weapon lightly. "You were heading to the sim rooms too?"
Weiss looked up, blinking. "Hmm? Oh. I was considering it, yes. Needed to clear my head, I suppose."
"Then we might as well train together," Pyrrha said, tone light but inviting. "Mocha's not here yet, and I could use a sparring partner who could... give me a bit of a challenge."
That earned her a small, reluctant laugh from Weiss. "You think I could give you a challenge? I'm flattered you think so."
"Don't put yourself down. I've seen you in the field," Pyrrha said, smiling. "You're quite strong. I'd be happy to train with you."
Weiss's gaze softened a little. "Thanks... I think. But, you're sort of sounding like my sister now."
"I'll take that as a compliment," Pyrrha replied, motioning toward the sim room doors. "Come on. Let's warm up. A bit of training will help get your mind off things."
Weiss hesitated—then nodded. "Alright."
As the two stepped inside, the doors hissed closed behind them, sealing away the hum of the corridor. The training chamber lit up—an empty metallic field that shimmered as the simulation grid powered on, ready to conjure any battlefield they desired.
Weiss rolled her shoulders, grabbing a training rapier with a flick of her hand from the weapons rack. Pyrrha did the same and spun her new spear once to get a feel of the weight, tip humming with faint energy.
No words were needed after that.
Sometimes, Pyrrha thought as she set her stance, the best way to steady the mind was through motion. Through rhythm and focus.
.
.
The simulation chamber shimmered to life, with its metallic walls fading into the illusion of a wide, open arena. The hexagonal steel plates beneath their feet, glowed softly at the edges with humming energy lines. The sky above became an artificial dusk, gradiented from gold to gray, designed to test visibility and reflection under variable light.
"Ready?" Pyrrha asked.
Weiss's gaze was steady. "Always."
A countdown on the simulation HUD ticked down to zero.
They moved.
Weiss darted forward first, gliding over the metallic floor with short, calculated bursts. She slashed her rapier and traced a line through the air— her Elementrune flared to life in an elegant blossom of blue. A sharp trail of frost exploded outward, racing toward Pyrrha like a wave of crystalline glass.
Pyrrha sidestepped — or rather, flowed aside — her movement almost liquid-like and efficient. Her spear flicked up, and the metal beneath her feet rippled, creating a small ridge that diverted the ice blast harmlessly to her left. The frozen shards shattered against the wall, scattering into harmless light fragments.
Her Ferrousrune pulsed faintly around her body, gold glowing energy flowing like embers beneath her armor.
The floor beneath her responded to her thought. Threads of conjured liquid metal snaked outward in thin lines, rippling along the arena surface, spreading like veins. Through them, Pyrrha could feel everything — the density of the metallic floor, the resonance of Weiss's heels striking down, even the faint magnetic tug of the rapier's alloy blade.
She saw Weiss move — not just through sight, but through sense.
Her opponent slashed again, this time launching a thin lance of fire that spiraled through the air like a whip. The heat shimmered, distorting the light between them. Pyrrha spun her spear in a tight arc, catching the flame midair — and the weapon's tip twisted, its shape morphing, hardening into a broad metallic plate that caught and dispersed the energy in a shower of sparks.
'Rune Comprehension,' Pyrrha thought with a quiet satisfaction. It wasn't just simple control. It was understanding. The metal obeyed her not as a tool, but as an extension of herself.
Weiss pressed on. A circle of fire appeared under her feet — bright cyan. With a burst of force, she propelled herself upward, using the flames to accelerate her jump. Mid-air, she flicked her wrist, sending shards of ice raining down like a miniature storm. Pyrrha extended a hand — and the scattered pieces of her own earlier barrier lifted, magnetically drawn into a swirling shield that hovered above her head, deflecting the shards with soft metallic chimes.
When Weiss landed, the floor cracked under the heat of her propulsion. Steam rose around her as she circled, rapier glowing with dual elements — frost along the edge, fire in the core.
Pyrrha lunged forward, spear thrust low.
Weiss parried — barely. The force sent her sliding backward across the ground, shoes skidding against steel. Pyrrha's spear elongated suddenly, its haft stretching like a coiled spring as Ferrous rippled through it. The weapon shot forward, nearly striking Weiss off guard. She spun aside and retaliated instantly — drawing another circular burst of flame that transformed into a flaming serpent which arced toward Pyrrha.
Pyrrha raised a hand and metal coalesced in mid-air, trapping the serpent in a ball of liquid metal. It froze mid-lunge, suspended in midair as the metal that covered it brought it to heel. With a twist of her wrist, she shattered it into a thousand glowing fragments.
Weiss landed lightly on her feet, panting but smiling. "Show-off."
Pyrrha laughed. "Just trying to keep up."
Weiss pressed forward again, this time layering her energy. A shimmering Rune flared behind her — the manifestation of her second rune, Spirit. Four miniature elementals — each a glowing mote shaped vaguely like a chibi elemental fairies — blinked into existence, orbiting her with gleeful energy.
One swept its tiny arms and sent a slicing gust forward. Another followed with a spiral of flame. The third launched a pressurized stream of water, while the last cast a fan of frost across the ground, locking the field beneath Pyrrha in a slick sheen of ice.
Pyrrha pivoted lightly and dodged the attacks. The ones that she couldn't, she simply manifested a barrier of metal to tank the hits.
"Adorable," she giggled.
Suddenly, she stepped forward into a blur.
Weiss barely had time to react. Pyrrha closed the gap in an instant, her spear slicing through the air with a low hum. Weiss ducked beneath the first strike, deflecting the second with a rapier parry, sparks flashing as steel met steel. The sound was pure, yet ringing.
Weiss retaliated, sliding low and slicing with ice-augmented precision, shards scattering along the floor. Pyrrha leapt — twisting midair — her body spinning in a half-rotation before landing behind Weiss with perfect balance. She thrust backward, the spearhead retracting into a bladed short form mid-swing.
Weiss caught it with her rapier.
Pyrrha felt the pressure in the metal. Weiss's rapier was crafted specially with LUCID alloys, refined and laced with with a runic forging process. She could sense its inner structure — every line that went into its creation and ever bolt that made its form.
In one motion, she commanded it.
The rapier vibrated in Weiss's hand, tugging violently. Weiss gasped, tightening her grip just as Pyrrha's spear swept upward, disarming her.
The rapier clattered to the floor. Weiss's boots ignited in twin bursts of flame as she backflipped away, summoning a platform of ice in midair. The weapon flew back to her hand, reclaimed by her wind Spirit rune's pull.
Clever. Quick recovery.
But Weiss was breathing harder now. Pyrrha's stance in conjunction was more relaxed. Calm. Almost serene.
Weiss charged once more, combining thrusts of fire and ice, her rapier alternating elements mid-combo. The Spirit elementals darted around her like colorful satellites, peppering Pyrrha with wind blades and water bursts that refracted into steam clouds.
Pyrrha deflected, turned and spun — her movements efficient to the millimeter. Her spear shortened, split into twin half-length blades, each one gleaming with crimson aura. The fight turned close-quarters — rhythmic and intimate. Sparks, steam, and flashes of light filled the arena.
Weiss pushed forward with a fierce cry, aura flaring. She dashed through her own fog of steam, rapier blazing with flame, and aimed directly for Pyrrha's Rune Frame — a precise thrust for the chest plate.
But Pyrrha only smiled.
Weiss froze midair.
Literally froze — not by her own element, but by Pyrrha's will.
Her limbs locked in place, muscles refusing to respond. Her rapier halted centimeters from Pyrrha's armor, trembling faintly.
"What—?" Weiss's breath caught. "I—can't—move—"
Pyrrha's aura glowed, lines of light rippling through her armor and down the spear. The air hummed with magnetic tension.
"The iron in your blood," Pyrrha said softly. "And in your frame. I'm not hurting you — just holding you still."
Weiss's eyes widened as understanding dawned.
This was the difference between mastery and comprehension. Between control and command.
Pyrrha exhaled, releasing her energy. Weiss floated down gently, her feet touching the floor once more.
Pyrrha patted her shoulder with a grin. "Good fight."
Weiss straightened, brushing off her shoulder, cheeks faintly flushed. "You win."
"Of course," Pyrrha said lightly. "But you're getting really good. Those elementals were so cute, too."
Weiss pouted before rolling her eyes. "You sound like Ruby."
Pyrrha chuckled. "I'll take that as a compliment."
The simulation faded, and the arena dissolved back into cold metal walls and humming lights.
.
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AN: Pyrrha rune is over powered.
Advanced chapters are available on patreon.