History and Powers

My finger hovers over Cinder Fall's name, and memories flood back as I tap the selection. The screen flickers, processing, and I’m already typing before it prompts me.

Two months ago. Salem had given me my first real test—not combat, not survival, but observation. "There's someone I need watched," she'd said, running a pale finger along your jawline. "Cinder Fall. She's useful to me, but I want to know if she's loyal. Follow her. Learn her patterns. Report back."

I tracked Cinder through Vale for three weeks. Shadow and Requiem weren't even fully forged yet— I relied on stealth, on the assassin training that had been beaten into me in my old life. Cinder never detected me. She was good—dangerously good—but I was better at remaining unseen.

The surveillance had been clinical at first. I witnessed her manipulation of Roman Torchwick, observed her training sessions where fire danced at her fingertips. Cinder Fall was ambitious, ruthless, calculating. Everything Salem had said she was.

But then my Semblance activated.

It had happened during one of Cinder's private moments in a rented room in Vale's industrial district. I'd been perched on an adjacent rooftop, watching through the window as she paced, and suddenly— thoughts hit me. Not words exactly, but impressions, feelings, needs that crashed into my consciousness like a tidal wave.

The need to submit. To let go of control. To be dominated so completely that the constant scheming and manipulation could stop, just for a moment. Cinder's surface thoughts were all ambition and planning, but underneath? She was exhausted by her own drive, **** for someone strong enough to make her surrender.

I'd almost fallen off the roof from the shock of it.

The next night, I stopped hiding. I walked right into her room— Emerald and Mercury weren't there— and Cinder had spun, fire erupting in her palms, amber eyes blazing with fury at the intrusion.

"Who the hell—"

"You want to kneel," I said, my voice steady despite my racing heart. My newly awakened Semblance let me feel the truth of it, let me pull the thought directly from her mind. "You're tired of being in control. You want someone to take it from you."

The fire had guttered out. Cinder's eyes had widened—shock, then fury, then something else entirely. Fear? No. Recognition.

"How did you—"

I closed the distance between us, grabbed her wrist, and she could have burned me to ash but she didn't. "I know," I said simply. "And I can give you what you need."

What followed had been intense. Cinder fought it at first— verbally, physically— but my Semblance let me know exactly what she wanted, let me push past her protests to the need underneath. When she finally surrendered, when she'd knelt and looked up at me with something like relief in those amber eyes, it had been intoxicating.

The sex had been rough. Dominant. Everything she craved but would never admit to wanting. Afterwards, she'd tried to reassert control, to pretend it hadn't happened, but we both knew the truth. It happened again. And again. Always in secret. Always with the understanding that she would never acknowledge it openly.

I type the details carefully: Multiple encounters over two months. A sexual relationship based on dominance and submission. Cinder views me as someone who knows her deepest secret and can provide what she needs. She's simultaneously drawn to me and resentful of the power I hold over her. I reported back to Salem that Cinder is loyal to her plans, omitting the personal relationship that developed.

The screen processes my input: "PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP CONFIRMED. CINDER FALL VIEWS YOU AS: Secret dominant partner, someone who sees through her masks, threat to her carefully controlled image. CURRENT DISPOSITION: Conflicted—craves your dominance but resents vulnerability, will maintain public distance while seeking private encounters."

"POWER UNLOCKED: In Control- Just from looking at you, people innately feel like you're the leader in a given situation. Some will want to get on your good side, while others will go through great lengths to show you how useful they can be. When you're flirting with someone, their inhibitions are lowered and it gets harder for them to say no to your advances. Even the devout lesbians will break. Once you're in the bedroom, they're ready to follow orders and will carry them out obediently."

The screen flickers. "PLEASE SELECT YOUR THIRD CHOICE."

The list reappears, minus Salem and Cinder. Outside, Beacon's landing pads are visible now, other airships already touching down. I have maybe five minutes. Two more selections to make.

My finger moves to Summer Rose's name, and something shifts in my chest as I tap it. Not the calculated interest I felt selecting Salem, not the predatory satisfaction of choosing Cinder. This is different.

The screen flickers, and Summer's portrait appears—silver eyes that match Ruby's, shoulder-length black hair, a warm smile that somehow translates even through the static image. Those eyes. I remember the first time I saw them in person, how they'd seemed to look straight through me.

It was seven weeks ago. I ventured outside Vale's walls, testing Shadow and Requiem against live targets. The Grimm had come— Beowolves first, then an Ursa Major that had nearly caught me off-guard.

I'd been so focused on the technical aspects, on whether the dust crystals were cycling properly in Shadow's chamber, on whether Requiem's draining effect was working as designed, that I hadn't noticed the woman watching from the treeline.

"Nice form," she'd called out, and I spun around, both pistols raised. "Easy there. I'm friendly."

Summer Rose had stepped into the clearing, and I recognized her immediately from Salem's files— one of the most famous Huntresses of her generation, supposedly killed on a mission years ago. But here she was, very much alive, her weapon Crimson Arch slung across her back in its axe form.

"You're dead," I said stupidly.

Her smile had been sad. "It's complicated. But you—you're new. I can tell. The way you move, it's... different. Not from around here, are you?"

I nearly lied, but something in those silver eyes had made me want to tell the truth. "No. I'm not."

What followed had been unexpected. Summer hadn't pried, hadn't demanded explanations. She'd simply sat with me on a fallen log and talked. About Remnant, about being a Huntress, about the weight of fighting a war that never seemed to end. I found myself opening up in ways I never had with Salem or Cinder— telling her about the loneliness of my old life, about the assassin who'd raised me, about the hunger for genuine connection that had driven me even before arriving here.

Summer had understood. She'd had her own secrets, her own reasons for letting the world think she was dead. She hadn't shared all of them, not at first, but over the following weeks as we met again and again, trust had built.

The sex had started after our third meeting. We'd been sparring—she'd offered to help me refine my combat style—and the physical intensity had sparked something else. Unlike with Cinder where dominance was the core need, with Summer it had been... connection. Yes, I’d taken the lead, yes my need to dominate had colored the encounters, but there had been something more. Laughter. Actual conversation afterwards. Falling asleep next to someone who knew me and accepted me anyway.

Summer became my closest relationship. Friend and lover both. She'd been the one I told about my Semblance activating first. The one who'd listened when I struggled with the manipulation I’d done to Cinder. She hadn't judged—just listened and offered perspective.

I type it all out carefully: The meetings outside Vale over seven weeks. The friendship that developed into a sexual relationship. The emotional intimacy alongside the physical. Summer's secret survival and her trust in sharing that with me. My genuine care for her beyond just dominance and sex.

The screen processes: "PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP CONFIRMED. SUMMER ROSE VIEWS YOU AS: Trusted friend, lover, confidant who knows her secret. CURRENT DISPOSITION: Warm, protective, genuine affection."

"POWER UNLOCKED: Impregnation- To be a good mother, you must first have children. You're now able to impregnate women so long as your cum is inside of them. It doesn't matter if you splatter her mouth or fill her ass, she just has to have your cum inside her for several hours. Your cum is even so powerful that it can impregnate a woman that isn't even ovulating. It even works on infertile women. As a nice bonus, carrying your child is a mild aphrodisiac: The closer they are to giving birth, the hornier they get around you."

My breath catches. That's... significant. And slightly terrifying.

The screen shifts again: "PLEASE SELECT YOUR FOURTH AND FINAL CHOICE."

The list reappears, now missing Salem, Cinder, and Summer. Outside the window, the landing pads are rushing up to meet you. I have maybe four minutes before touchdown. One more selection. One more relationship to define before my new life at Beacon truly begins.

My finger taps Kali Belladonna's name, and the warmth that spreads through my chest catches me off-guard. It's different from the calculated interest I felt selecting Salem, distinct from the predatory satisfaction of choosing Cinder, even separate from the deep contentment Summer brings. This is gentler. Fresher. Still finding its shape.

The screen flickers, replacing the list with Kali's portrait. Warm amber eyes that crinkle when she smiles. Long black hair that cascades past her shoulders in soft waves. Those expressive cat ears that twitch when she's thinking through a problem. The Faunus features that make some people treat her as less somehow only draw me in deeper.

Two weeks ago. I’d been in Vale's marketplace, practicing my ability to disappear into crowds, when I overheard her— a woman with a **** edge to her voice asking merchants if they'd seen a young Faunus girl with black hair and cat ears hidden under a bow.

"Excuse me," she'd said, catching me watching. "I'm searching for my daughter. Blake. She's around your age, black hair, uses a bow to hide her—" She'd gestured to her own ears, the movement uncertain. "Have you seen anyone matching that description?"

I could have walked away. Should have, probably. But something in those amber eyes had stopped me cold. Loneliness recognizing its mirror. "I haven't seen her," I admitted. "But I'm starting at Beacon Academy in a couple weeks. If she's enrolled there, I could keep an eye out."

The relief that had washed over Kali's face had been profound. "Would you? Please, I just—I need to know she's safe. She left the White Fang months ago and vanished. I think she came to Vale, maybe to attend Beacon, but I can't be certain."

Coffee had been my suggestion. She'd accepted immediately. The conversation had flowed like water finding its level— Kali sharing her fears about Blake, about Menagerie, about watching her daughter get pulled deeper into Adam Taurus's increasingly violent faction before finally breaking away. I listened, asked the right questions, found myself genuinely invested in this woman's pain.

The second meeting had been dinner, ostensibly to strategize about locating Blake. Somewhere between the main course and dessert, the topic had shifted from Blake to ourselves. Kali's marriage to Ghira— loving but strained under the weight of his responsibilities as Chieftain. My own isolation in this strange new world. The spark had been inevitable.

By the fourth meeting, I kissed her in my rented room. She'd frozen for a heartbeat before responding, then pulled back. "I shouldn't," she'd whispered, guilt and want warring in her voice. "I'm married. This is wrong."

"It's complicated," I agreed, not letting go.

But it had happened anyway. Three more times over the following week and a half. Secret encounters in my room where Kali could let herself be someone other than the Chieftain's wife or Blake's mother. She'd been torn between guilt over Ghira and her **** need for connection, for being seen as herself. I hadn't mentioned Salem, or Cinder, or Summer—those relationships belonged to entirely separate worlds.

I type the details into the glowing interface: The chance encounter in the marketplace two weeks ago. Kali's frantic search for her missing daughter. The friendship that evolved into romance. The sexual relationship built on mutual loneliness and genuine connection despite her marriage. My promise to help find Blake at Beacon. The careful compartmentalization kept my other relationships hidden from her.

The screen processes your input: "PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP CONFIRMED. KALI BELLADONNA VIEWS YOU AS: Unexpected romantic partner who sees her as more than her roles, confidant who understands loneliness, hope for finding Blake. CURRENT DISPOSITION: Conflicted between guilt over infidelity and desire for your company, grateful for your help, anxious this might be goodbye."

"POWER UNLOCKED: Milfs- Any mother you meet will have the desire to set you up with their daughter. Of course, the mothers will keep delaying asking you from going on a date with their daughter for... reasons. It would be a shame to let their inexperienced daughter be with you, right? You need someone who knows what she's doing, and besides, a good mother would test her daughter's future lover, right? No mother wants their daughter to date someone who can't fuck her brains out and make her forget her own name."

The screen flashes one final time: "ALL FOUR SELECTIONS COMPLETE. YOUR POWERS HAVE BEEN INITIALIZED. ACCESS YOUR STATUS SCREEN AT ANY TIME BY SAYING 'STATUS'. GOOD LUCK, SYNN JORDAN."

The blue interface dissolves as the airship's landing gear deploys with a heavy metallic thunk. Through the window, Beacon's landing pads rush up to meet the ship, faculty members already gathering below. The cabin erupts in excited chatter as students grab their bags and crowd toward the exits.

My four relationships are locked in. Salem somewhere at Beacon wearing a disguise. Cinder continues her conspiracy from the shadows. Summer is alive and hidden. Kali is waiting in Vale for news about Blake.

The airship settles with barely a tremor, and the cabin doors hiss open to reveal Beacon Academy in all its glory.