PA18

The red alarm clock on his bedside flashed 00:57, and it took him a few drunken moments to figure out what zero o'clock actually was.

[...]

Neo let out a long breath as the last Ursa fell, tripping over the body of one of its dissolving brethren as it too started to slowly break apart. With a tired sigh she flopped onto the cool grass, laying back and staring up at the sky – the early tendrils of dawn light slowly creeping across the darkness like… like… she wasn't sure. Like a tentacle monster made of light violating the chastity of the starry sky?

She'd never had much use for metaphors.

How long had they been at this? At least five or six hours… not to mention the two hundred or so Grimm she'd had to slaughter her way through. Roman owed her for this. No, Jaune owed her for this – everyone owed her…