Salem, Cinder, Summer, Kali (Alternate Start)

My eyes flutter open to the gentle hum of Bullhead engines and the morning light streaming through reinforced windows. The cabin around me is filled with other students—some sleeping, others chatting nervously, a few pressing their faces against the glass to catch glimpses of Beacon Academy in the distance.

I shift in my seat, adjusting my gothic lolita outfit—the purple and black fabric settling comfortably around my form. My glasses slip slightly down my nose, and I push them back up. The memories of my past life wash over me like a familiar tide.

The old assassin who raised me. The loneliness that became my constant companion. The **** hunger for connection that drove me forward. And then... the choice. The god or entity or whatever it was that plucked me from my world and dropped me here, in Remnant, with a purpose I’m still trying to fully understand.

My hand instinctively moves to my hip, feeling the reassuring weight of Shadow and Requiem in their holsters beneath my coat. The weapons that whatever brought me here made me design before sending me. The twin pistols that will become extensions of me. I gain memories of forging them, studying their mechanisms, perfecting the silence of Shadow and the draining capabilities of Requiem. These memories make them more than weapons— they're promises of my survival.

A flicker catches my attention. My purple eyes widen slightly as a translucent blue screen materializes in the air before me, hovering at eye level. Black text scrolls across it in neat, professional lettering. I glance around quickly— the blonde girl a few rows up is gesturing wildly as she talks to a younger girl with a red hood, completely oblivious. A blonde boy nearby looks like he might be sick. Nobody sees the screen but me.

The text reads clearly: "WELCOME TO REMNANT, SYNN JORDAN. TO BEGIN YOUR JOURNEY, SELECT FOUR WOMEN WITH WHOM YOU HAVE PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIPS. YOUR CHOICES WILL DETERMINE YOUR INITIAL POWERS."

Below the text, a list begins to scroll— names I recognize from the knowledge of this world that’s been shoved in my head by whatever brought me. Ruby Rose. Weiss Schnee. Blake Belladonna. Yang Xiao Long. Pyrrha Nikos. Nora Valkyrie. The list continues, each name accompanied by a small portrait and basic information. Summer Rose. Raven Branwen. Glynda Goodwitch. Even more dangerous names appear—Cinder Fall. Emerald Sustrai. Neopolitan. Salem.

My heart pounds as I read through the options. Four women. Four relationships that somehow already exist in this world's history, waiting for me to define them. Four sets of abilities that will shape how I navigate the challenges ahead.

The screen waits patiently, cursor blinking. Behind it, through the window, I can see Beacon Academy growing larger— the grand clock tower reaching toward the sky, the sprawling campus dotted with students. My new home. My new hunting ground. My new chance at the companionship I've always craved, and perhaps something more.

The prompt appears again: "PLEASE SELECT YOUR FIRST CHOICE."

I take a deep breath, my mind racing through possibilities. Each choice will define not just my abilities, but the web of relationships I'll navigate from the moment I step off this airship.

My finger reaches out— though nobody else would see the gesture as anything more than me adjusting your glasses— and taps the name that makes my heart race with equal parts excitement and trepidation. Salem.

The screen flickers, and the list of names fades away. For a moment, there's nothing but the translucent blue glow, and then new text materializes: "FIRST SELECTION: SALEM. PROCESSING..."

A portrait appears— pale skin, long white hair streaked with black, red eyes with black sclera that seem to pierce through the screen itself. Even as a static image, there's something ancient and powerful about her presence. Something that whispers of danger and possibility in equal measure.

The text updates: "SALEM - IMMORTAL QUEEN OF THE GRIMM. WARNING: ADVANCED DIFFICULTY SELECTION. THIS CHOICE WILL SIGNIFICANTLY ALTER YOUR STARTING CIRCUMSTANCES."

I swallow hard, but I don't pull back. If I’m going to do this— if I’m going to survive in this world and achieve my objectives— I’ll need power. I need advantages. And Salem... Salem is perhaps the most powerful being on Remnant.

The screen shifts again, and new information scrolls past:

"SELECTION CONFIRMED. SALEM WILL INFILTRATE BEACON ACADEMY DISGUISED AS A STUDENT AND WILL ATTEMPT TO BE ON YOUR TEAM DURING INITIATION. SHE WILL CONTINUE HER PLANS UNLESS YOU CAN CONVINCE HER OTHERWISE."

"POWER UNLOCKED: Corruption- With each thrust in a girl, you can feel her morals decay and her morals erode. She will become a pawn that you may use as you please. It's a slow process she won't realize. After your first few sessions, she will begin to do small things for you at the cost of her friends, her studies, and her hobbies. You are the only thing she cares for. Your happiness is the most important thing in the world. She would do to make you smile, and her world will come crumbling down if you break things off. This power is more effective on those already with decayed morals and ethics."

My breath catches. The implications are staggering. Salem—the immortal mastermind behind countless atrocities— will be at Beacon. As a student. Possibly on my team. And I have a pre-established relationship with her.

The screen prompts: "PLEASE DESCRIBE YOUR PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP WITH SALEM. BE SPECIFIC ABOUT HOW YOU MET, THE NATURE OF YOUR RELATIONSHIP, AND HER CURRENT DISPOSITION TOWARD YOU."

I glance around the cabin again. Ruby is still excitedly pointing out landmarks to Yang. Jaune looks like he might lose his breakfast at any moment. Blake has turned another page in her book. None of them have any idea that somewhere—perhaps on another airship, perhaps already at Beacon— the greatest threat to humanity is preparing to play the role of a naive student.

And that threat has some kind of history with me.

My mind races as I consider how to define this relationship. Salem is dangerous, manipulative, and has lived for countless centuries. Whatever connection I establish needs to be believable enough to survive her scrutiny, significant enough to matter, but not so constraining that it limits my options going forward.

The cursor blinks patiently, waiting for my input. Outside the window, Beacon's clocktower looms larger, its shadow stretching across the approach. I have perhaps ten minutes before landing. Ten minutes to define a relationship that could determine whether I become Salem's pawn, her partner, or something else entirely.

The blue screen hovers before me, expectant and implacable. The other three selections can wait— right now, I need to decide who I am to the Queen of the Grimm, and who she is to me.

My fingers hover over the ethereal keyboard that only I can see, and I begin typing my history with Salem into the glowing interface. The words flow from memory— not fabricated, but recalled. Real. Manifesting as I type.

It was three months ago. I’d awakened in a forest clearing, disoriented and alone, the transition from my world to Remnant leaving me gasping and confused. The old assassin's training had kicked in immediately— assess threats, find shelter, survive. But before I could move, she'd appeared.

Salem had stood at the edge of the clearing like a pale ghost, her white hair streaked with black, those crimson eyes with their unnatural black sclera studying me with ancient curiosity. "Interesting," she'd said, her voice like silk over steel. "You're not from here, are you?"

I type steadily, establishing the parameters: She'd sensed my arrival somehow—a disturbance in whatever cosmic forces govern Remnant. Rather than kill or ignore me, she'd been... intrigued. Here was something new in a world that had grown stale over her centuries of existence. Someone who didn't belong to the cycles she'd witnessed again and again.

The relationship that developed had been complicated from the start. Salem had taken me under her wing— not out of kindness, but out of curiosity and perhaps loneliness. She'd taught me about Remnant, about Grimm, about the politics and powers at play. In return, I provided something she hadn't had in ages: genuine conversation with someone who wasn't terrified of her, wasn't subservient, wasn't part of her plans.

Sexual tension had crackled between us from the beginning. My hunger for companionship and my desire to dominate had met her ancient appetites and need for someone who could match her intensity. The first time I'd kissed her had been in her domain— a gothic fortress hidden from the world. She'd been surprised. No one had dared touch her in centuries. But I did, and she'd responded with passion that bordered on ****.

I establish the details carefully: Multiple encounters over those three months. Learning each other's bodies. Testing boundaries. Salem maintained emotional distance even as she allowed physical intimacy. I pushed for more, always seeking to deepen the connection. The sex had been intense— power plays and dominance struggles, neither of us willing to fully submit, both of us craving the release that came from someone who could actually handle you.

But trust? That remained fragile. Salem trusted no one fully— her history had taught her that. And I knew she had plans, schemes that stretched across years and involved the destruction of everything I now found myself part of. She'd told me she was sending me to Beacon for my own development, to learn combat properly, to become stronger. She hadn't told me she'd be there too, disguised, continuing her machinations.

Or had she? I add that detail— a conversation two weeks ago where she'd smiled cryptically and said, "Perhaps we'll see each other sooner than you think."

The screen processes my input, text scrolling past as it incorporates my history. Then new information appears:

"PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP CONFIRMED. SALEM VIEWS YOU AS: Fascinating anomaly, sexual partner, potential pawn or ally depending on your choices. CURRENT DISPOSITION: Curious, possessive in her way, willing to let you develop at Beacon while she advances her plans. She expects you to either join her cause or stay out of her way. Direct opposition will be met with ****. Your relationship gives you unique access but not immunity."

The screen flickers again. "PLEASE SELECT YOUR SECOND CHOICE."

The list of names reappears, minus Salem. Ruby Rose, Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladonna, Yang Xiao Long, and all the others scroll past. Outside the window, Beacon looms larger. I have perhaps six or seven minutes before landing. Three more selections to make. Three more relationships to define.

My heart still races from defining my connection to the immortal queen of the Grimm. Now I need to decide who else in this world has a claim on my history.