December finds herself being escorted onto a bullhead bound for Beacon.

Yes, finally, sky again!

A plane? So strange.

They must be sending her on a special mission. She salutes to the corporal on duty and dismisses him. She can take it from here. 

He doesn't go? She outranks him but sure fine whatever.

She drums on her lap, bup bup bah, bu bup bup bah, bup bah buh bah...

She is being taken to a castle in the sky to fight the storm giants. It's going to be a hard fight but she can do it.

She is so going to die fighting the storm giants. It's okay though, she was destined to this ever since she was four years old.

Very distantly, a part of her watches and waits.

It's so hard to focus. Her body and mouth have minds of their own. But she thinks this is important, right now. She has to be friendly and careful and safe. 

There's going to be a very good thing. Maybe her being released? It's all so muddy. 

For now she just has to do what she's told.

They walk her through wood-paneled halls, into a medical wing, and guide her into a bed. There's more tech there than she's used to, more machines connecting to her and analyzing her in more ways than the old hospital could manage. A nurse updates her chart with the new data.

A medium-tall fox faunus with purple-violet hair, ears, and tail steps into the room, plucks the chart from the foot of her bed, and reviews it, along with the readouts from the machines. Blood pressure is fine, heart rate high, Aura status listed as unawakened civilian, levels are oddly a bit high for that but not at awakened levels. Signs of civilian-grade gender-affirming care, but minor and intermittent. Chart notes preference for she/her but no hormone prescription. DIY? Likely. Foster care, runaway, probably unsupportive home environment. Working from teen years, flagged on the combat school interest trackers but never applied. Some mention of "identity confusion" above and beyond the delusional state itself.

Current tentative diagnosis on file: soulstress-induced psychosis and identity shear.

She looks up from the chart. She's December's age, it looks like. She smiles warmly.

"Hello, Miss Morning-Glory. I'm Sable Orchid, a Huntress in training and a specialist in Aura-based medicine. Do you mind if I use my Semblance to take a look at your soul, in hopes of seeing how to best help you?"

Ooh, a cute Huntress that's her age! She must be here for the mission!

"Yeah, I guess I gotta be in tip-top shape," she says.

"Just so," she says with a smile and a nod. She sits down, takes December's hand, takes a slow breath, and reaches her soul out across the gap.

She finds a storm. Multiple souls blaze and roil through and around each other, sparking and twisting and blurring and stealing actions from each other. On top of that, burdens weigh upon these souls. She can see the wear and fatigue and lost hope, the oppression of hiding themselves, the hurts of not being supported, and so many other things. They're breaking down, crumbling into each other under all the assaults on their identities while they haven't even made space for each other yet.

She reels back into her seat, back in the external world, a tear running down her cheek.

"We'll get you sorted out, get you back in shape," she reassures the girl(s). Or is she reassuring herself?

She stands, excuses herself, and steps out of the room, barging into the Headmaster's office without an appointment.

The many gears in the ceiling and walls tick away. The man himself sits at his desk, and sets aside a report he'd been reviewing.

He inclines his head respectfully to the girl. "Good afternoon, Miss Orchid. How fare your patients?"

She sucks in a sharp breath, her train of thought derailed. "You knew, Headmaster? That there were three of them?"

He tilts his head just a bit and gives Sable a Look over his spectacles. "I suspected. I have seen peculiar Aura test results similar to these girls before, though their situation is quite rare, and I was not sure it would be another case like the ones I've seen. How are the Misses Morning-Glory?"

She shakes her head. "Soulstress. They're drowning under soulstress. Awakening their Auras will bolster them, and the procedure you've shown me will repair the mess that's become of their minds as long as I manage to teach their souls how to hold borders between each other in the same instant, but if we don't give them something egosyntonic* soon, they'll just be back here in a month or three."

She looks down at her hands, a low growl spilling out of her throat. "We can't send them back to their old life. I don't see a single mark of egosyntonic experience on their souls. Best guess, literally nothing they've lived has resonated with them in at least a decade.

"They need to come to Beacon, somehow. They're flagged on all the combat school interest trackers, but they never applied, and any application sent to them went unopened. I suspect interference from the foster parents. So get them auditing here or something. Making that happen is your job. And I have an idea for an immediate patch on their dystonia. What's the fastest gender-affirming care option you've got, one that never gets used because it costs far too much Aura for anyone but a bunker**?"

*The common Remnan language in modern use has a two-syllable word for "ego syntonic".

**The word "bunker" refers to someone with an exceptionally deep Aura pool. Sable is a bunker, which is common for those with Aura transfer Semblances.

The professor steeples his fingers, and looks away for a long moment. When he looks, back, his words are grave. "There is a treatment that will do the job, Miss Orchid. It will use Aura's natural tendency to make the body more syntonic, but dramatically accelerated. It has a truly astronomical Aura cost, however, from the process itself, along with preventing the damage the process would cause and keeping the changes on track in a syntonic direction. It will likely cost more than your entire reservoir. If you run out before completing the process, then you and your patients will die."

There's a pause, silent except for the gears.

"I can assign the off-duty nurse trainees to keep you topped off, allow you to take up to half from each. Between them, you will hopefully have enough to keep this process stabilized."

He locks eyes with her. "Are you quite certain this is the route you wish to take?"

"It's this or risk my work being undone." She nods firmly.

"Then return to your patients. The nurses will have the machine ready when you arrive."

She nods firmly and departs.

When she reaches the medical wing again, the nurses are just finishing coaxing December into a specialized, tight-fitting, knit cap, festooned with Aura conductors.

She smiles gently and sits down next to December. "We're going to do a hard procedure now, Miss Morning-Glory. It'll be very tiring, but I'm quite sure you'll feel an awful lot better by the time it's complete. Are you ready to try?"

She has no idea what's going on, but if she doesn't cooperate she'll undoubtably be punished. 

"Of course."

Sable takes December's hand, and gently wraps her own soul around the tangled, tired, strained souls before her. She gradually pulls the three souls up to the surface, stretching them out to where they'll need to stand on their own, and starts infusing her own Aura into them to ignite and awaken them.

She speaks solemnly, every word carrying a resonant gravity. "For it is through Love that we achieve immortality, embracing and connecting with the wonder of each other. Infinite in kindness and unbound by enmity, I release your soul, and by my heart, uplift thee."

Something