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Wiki created for my World/Story, tentatively referred to as Wellspring

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"Please lay back, and count backwards from 10," said the nurse, looking down at her scroll.  "The anesthesia will kick in, and we'll begin the procedure."

Yang complied, letting her head down to rest on the operating table's firm cushioning.


She hadn't asked for this.  In fact, she'd tried to stop it, but it was the idea of her father, and if Taiyang Xiao Long was anything, he was persistent.


Every day he would be in her room, bringing food, conversation, and his never-ending suggestions to replace her arm.  Always smiling, always gentle, offerring to change her sheets or feed her or take her somewhere outside the house.


It was insufferable.  In the end, she took him up on his offer of a new limb just to get away from him for a while.


Qrow had pulled some strings to get her here, apparently.  Talked to [ironsides] himself about it, and got in her pushed to next in line for a military-spec arm, same type as the [general] himself.


She didn't want it.  She didn't want a replacement.  She wanted her real arm back, her friends back, her *life* back.


But that was impossible, and it was all her fault.  She couldn't protect Beacon, she couldn't protect, Pyrrah, she couldn't protect Blake, hell, she couldn't even protect herself.


She was a failure of a Huntress, a failure of a friend, and a failure to her family.  This arm was wasted on her, just like the kindness of her father, and Ruby.


Ruby... Weiss... Blake... they were all gone now.


She wanted to see them, to talk with them, laugh with them.


But that would never happen again.


Yang woke to find herself on a strange bed in a strange room.  Everything was neat, orderly, and an almost sterile white.  Normally she would have found the decor mind-numbingly boring, but today she felt as empty as the room's lack of color.

She struggled to sit up, managing to finally press her back against the bed's headrest after minutes of effort.

Mere moments after finally uprighting herself, the door opened, and in walked a nurse, striding briskly across the floor with the speed and purpose of a professional.

"M-Miss Xiao Long!" she exclaimed upon noticing her recently awoken patient.  "You're awake!  You should have been under for at least another day, given the strength of the anae[whatever]--"  She paused, and cleared her throat.  "Never mind that.  How are you doing?" She asked with a weak smile.

"Fine, I suppose."

"And how is your prosthetic[?]?"

Yang looked down at her right arm.  There it was, a gray and black limb, attached at her bicep.  It looked cold and unnatural to her, a mockery of the flesh and blood it had replaced.

"Ah, just one moment," said the nurse, looking down at the large scroll in her hands, "I'll fetch the doctor for you."

As the nurse hurried out of the room, Yang examined the arm more closely, curious despite her immediate dislike of thing.  She tried moving its fingers as an experiment, just to see what would happen.  After a few seconds, the metal digits twitched slightly.

Intrigued, Yang experimented further, pushing her new fingers and thumb more and more to move, and was rewarded by slow, but clear responses to her commands.

"I see you're already getting the hang of things," said a voice.

Yang looked up.  It was the doctor the nurse had went to get, judging by the man's clean labcoat and professional air.

"If you're already making progress like this," continued the man, "Then there's not much more I can do for you."

"What do you mean?" asked Yang.

"Well," said the man, chuckling, "I don't mean to brag, but we've gotten quite good at this whole prosthesis business.  Once the new limb has been accepted by the owner's body, which yours clearly has, then becoming proficient in its usage is merely a matter of practice.  It will even accept your Aura in time, so even a Huntress like yourself should be able to use it without problems.

"I'm not a Huntress, I'm just... a kid."

The man looked at her curiously.  "Well, if that's what you say."  He tapped at his scroll a few times before looking up.  "I've scheduled you for rehabilitation tomorrow.  A nurse will arrive in the morning to guide you, so don't worry about getting there.  Until then, continue practicing at moving that arm, okay?"

"W-Wait!" Exclaimed Yang, but the man had already left.  She sighed, defeated, and turned to stare out the window beside her.

"Why won't anyone just leave me alone?"  


"Miss Xiao Long?  Excuse me, Miss Xiao Long?"

Yang grumbled in response, pulling her covers over her eyes.

"Miss Xiao Long?  It's time for your rehabilitation session."

"Go 'way."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Miss Xiao Long."

"Urrg... It's way to early in the morning for that."

"It's currently Ten in the morning, ma'am."

Yang sighed and sat up, looking blearily toward the voice's source.  "Fine, fine, I'll get up.  Just... stop with the 'Miss Xiao Long' and 'ma'am', alright?  Just call me Yang."

"Right this way, Miss Yang."

Yang rose from her bed groggily, and followed the nurse out of the room and into the hospital's unfamiliar hallways.  After walking down what felt like countless hallways and up a number of staircases, Yang found herself in front of large metal doors.

"The rehabilitation room in just inside," said the Nurse, gesturing at the doors.  "Please head straight ahead." As she spoke, the Nurse tapped her scroll against a small box set in the wall, causing the doors to slide open with a gentle whir.

The room behind the doors was not what Yang had imagined.  She was expecting a room of exercise equipment,  treadmills, weights, pull-up bars, stuff like that.  Instead, the room contained only a circular platform hovering above a depression in the floor.

"Hey," she said, turning toward the nurse, "What kind of rehab is thi--"  The doors behind her closed as she spoke, leaving her alone in the dimly lit room.

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