Enslaved To A Flame

Chapter One

Short Leash

The cold bit at his shoulders, and burned against his lungs, like ice growing inside of his ribcage. He ignored it though, knowing that he simply should have taken the time to steal a thicker jacket or coat. He shifted his feet, widening his stance so his toes hung off the edge of the three story building he'd chosen as his watch point. He squatted down, not unlike a baseball catcher, a radio on his thigh and binoculars around his neck.

He pulled the binoculars, pilfered from some sports shop, to his eyes. He peered over the wrought iron fence surrounding the mansion in front of him, his seagreen eyes focusing on the lit bedroom window of the Carmine house. He had been surveying the place for a week now, learning their habits, their routines. Every guard placement, every member of the family's schedule, all for tonight's mission.

"In position." He whispered softly into the radio.

"The girl?" The man on the other line replied.

The boy ground his teeth, and took a moment to pull the annoyance out of his voice before he replied. "Yes. Third floor. The lit window. She'll be alone for another hour before anyone checks on her. Guard rotation will change out in ten minutes. That's your window." He whispered as evenly as he could into the radio.

His eyes pulled away from the binoculars, peering down into the street below. Years of working in the dark, and hours of painful training letting him pick out the vague shapes of the hit team. Roman Torchwick's personal gang of thugs, from his specialized unit, burst from the shadows.

They climbed over the vaulted fence, and under William's directions, avoided the guard team. Two of them were Faunus, and their night vision gave them an edge as they moved into position under the window. They were a distance away, and William couldn't pick them out perfectly in the night.

"You're clear." He spoke into the radio.

"Roger. Clear out. We'll handle extraction." They reported back.

The crunch of gravel was all he needed to know that someone was behind him. He dropped the radio, and his Aura uncoiled off his body in a split second. A wire flicked off his hand, wrapped around the radio as it fell, and caught it before it fell too far. His hands dropped to the silver hilt at his hip as he turned to face the noise.

His hand grasped the hilt, and he drew it quickly. It sliced through the belt loop he had dropped it in, but that didn't matter. His sword clashed harshly with a heavy cane. Steel against steel, the grating sound breaking the soft silence of the night. He ground his teeth as his attacker bore down on him, the shaft of a cane with a red accent at the end identified who it was.

"Roman." He snarled, just before the cane shifted, the barrel pointed in his face.

The explosion rocked his head back, but the dust round didn't kill him. It wasn't designed to, and he knew that. Instead he felt the drugs in it start to take effect, sapping his consciousness from him. He grimaced, knowing what waited for him when he woke up.

"William."

He woke with a start, his head snapping up, his limbs aching dully. He shifted, feeling the firm clasp of steel keeping him secured. His Aura pulsed brightly, and he let it uncoil off his body as he activated his semblance.

"Ah ah ah."

He looked up, barely picking up the silhouette of Roman Torchwick in the near dark room. The only light came from a weak light bulb in the far corner, doing its best to fill the room with light. Shadows remained despite its efforts, but Roman's white trench coat still let him pick him out from the darkness.

A moment later Torchwick helped him a bit more. He drew his lighter out while easing a cigar out of his pocket, and illuminated the space with a brilliant flame. Roman lit his cigar slowly, his emerald green eyes regarded him for a time before he snapped the lighter closed again. He took a puff on it, the smoldering end brightening his face for a fraction of a second.

Slender blue wires coiled around William's hands, twisting as he sent them around the cuffs that held him in place. This time he was ready as Roman's cane flicked up. His fingers worked rapidly, casting his wires out, weaving them together faster than any seamstress alive, his mind and fingers putting them in place as Roman squeezed the trigger.

The Dust round, an explosive one this time, exploded just out of the barrel. Roman staggered back, giving William a sneer as he adjusted and fired again.

The woven shield caught the first round, and then shifted, blocking each round before it could come close to him. William smirked and smoke clouded the room for a moment. Roman swiped at it impatiently, stalking forward until he was right in front of William.

This wasn't a torture session. Not this time. William smiled at him, his seagreen eyes lit up in amusement at Roman's disgruntled expression. A moment later it intensified as the steel restraints that kept him bolted to the wall fragmented, sliced into shards by the Aura Wires.

William stepped out of them, meeting Roman's gaze with one of his own as the crime lord regarded him. He was slightly taller than the crime lord, but that did little in the area of combat or intimidation. Roman could beat him in both of those categories. All he had to do was threaten to inject one thing into him and William would obey.

It didn't stop William from taking a swing at the man.

A right hook, aimed at Roman's jaw. He missed though, the crime lord knocking his fist aside with the butt of his cane. William turned with his punch and lashed out with his other arm. His forearm connected and the cigar spilled into the floor, burning brightly as it started to die. Roman's head recoiled, but William wasn't done yet. He kicked, his leg arching up even as Roman's cane swept around and hooked his planted foot.

Roman ducked under his kick, and in hindsight William realized he shouldn't ever aim higher than the chest. A moment later he was on the floor, and Roman was shaking his head at him.

"Persistent." Roman mused. "But you won't get me with that." He unhooked his cane from William's arm, turning away while pulling a new cigar out of his pocket. He always carried two when William was involved.

"I'll kill you yet." William hissed, his sea green eyes dark with hate.

Roman turned on him. "Don't test me boy." He spat. Even in the dim light William could see the threat on Roman's features.

Back to the table. Injections. Or worse, the lab. There could be more, William didn't want to know. He didn't want to let Roman know it terrified him either. That Roman had managed to break him long ago. That the rebellion was just a mask to hide his thoughts from the man. That every ruse he used, every time he attacked, he was terrified he'd end up back on that table, or back in that pit.

So William met his gaze with a fiery one as he got to his feet. Dusting his ratty clothes off as he glared at the man. Roman didn't react , but instead turned away having grown bored of the exchange and walked to the other end of the room.

The lights came on, giving William an excuse to blink and turn away, and allowing him to inspect the room. A basement, or a utility room, judging by the electrical panel on the wall. A collection of pipes ran up and down the opposite wall, and the steel door next to Roman seemed to be the only way out.

"You're almost out of debt." Roman remarked while lighting his new cigar, taking a slow puff before turning back to him. "And I have a job for you that'll knock the rest out."

For a moment he was terrified. What job? Where? What else did he have to do? Then he let the next mask slide over, smothering whatever morals his previous thoughts had held. A mission was a mission, no matter what it was. Roman didn't tolerate failure and William didn't like the consequences of it.

"What's the job?" William asked, preoccupying the rest of his thoughts with the door. His hand dropped to his belt, only to find his sword missing.

Fear ripped through his mind. Had Roman tossed it? No. He'd forged it himself, and Roman hadn't taken it from him before. Roman would return it. William knew he would. Roman was many things, but he didn't deprive his tools of their weapons. William included.

William reached the door, trying the knob. It stuck firmly, and William glanced back at Roman who seemed amused. Of course he locked it. He always locked it.

"Infiltration." Roman replied vaguely. "It'll be a dangerous one, unlike this past assignment."

"I was shot this past assignment." William reminded him pointedly while his Aura uncoiled off his body. Two wires appeared, one on each of his index fingers. He slipped them into the lock, concentrating as he played with the tumblers inside.

"That was your fault." Roman replied just as easily. It wasn't. Roman hadn't told him there was a man on the roof, and his first infiltration of the mansion had left him with a bullet wound in his leg, and another stain of red on his ledger.

"Did you get the girl?" William replied instead, changing the topic as the tumblers fell into place. He twisted the knob sharply and pulled the door open.

A warehouse interior layed beyond. Industrial lights cast out the shadows of the building in all but the corners. It was barren except for three crates left in the center of the room. Likely whatever equipment Roman deemed necessary for him during the mission. The wasn't a single soul in the room, just him and Roman.

No secondary sounds alerted him to anyone else. All he could hear was Roman calmly walking by, heading towards the crates. No guards except for Roman himself, and no one to witness the exchange. That's how Roman liked it. No witnesses to ever connect William to him.

As far as the Underground was concerned, William was a street thug for hire. just another blight of existence in the world. Something else that could be manipulated, used and cast aside. To Roman; however, he was a linchpin. William was his enforcer, his assassin, his thief, and his scout.

William surveyed the area one more time before joining Roman by the crates. He looked at the man, who nodded at the crates before he continued explaining William's mission.

"So…" Roman was stalling, leading up to something dramatic. William could hear it in his voice. "You'll be infiltrating Beacon Academy." William's head whipped around, his hands still on the clasps holding the first crate closed. Roman didn't seem to notice as he continued. "You'll fit right in, you're about that age anyway." He glanced at William, who looked like a common street urchin at this point.

His pitch black hair was matted with grime, maybe blood. Roman wasn't sure and wasn't about to ask. His face was unwashed and dirty as well. His shirt, a black V-neck, was torn and tattered. Dragging William to the warehouse probably hadn't helped, but Roman didn't care His jeans were in no better condition, and he stunk. In fact, he reeked of unwashed flesh, dirt, and oil.

"After a shower." Roman added, "So wait before you change."

William opened the first truck, and couldn't hold back the relief that washed over his features. His sword lay on top in a hard black wooden sheath. He picked it up and inspected the leather holster Roman had constructed for it. He drew the sword, tossing the sheath aside as he slipped the holster around his waist, and inspected the blade carefully.

There was neither a nick, or a blemish on the silver katana blade. He flipped it around, triggering its transformation. The weapon split vertically right up the edge of the blade. It spun in his hands, the hilt becoming the mid point as the limbs turned, leaving him with a slightly curved staff. the edges of the blades pointed out, creating a gentle curve towards the tips. He hummed softly, satisfied with its condition, and flipped it around again, and collapsed it back to its sword form before sliding it into the leather holster.

The next tools in the crate were a common thing for Roman to give him. A lockpick set, despite William being able to fashion it out of his Aura anytime he truly needed it. Plus using his Aura let him tease the tumblers better. The next was a scroll with black and red accents. Roman's color scheme.

Just another way for Roman to remind him that he owned him. In more ways than one.

The next item was a mystery to him. William picked both of them up, two identical daggers. They were metal with a light feel and heft to them, but lacked edges. Were they weapons?

"Aura Blades." Roman supplied, reaching out for one. "They're programmed to take whatever Aura you channel into it and turn it into a dagger." He explained.

William tossed him one, and as soon as he caught it the edge came to life with a buzzing red blade. William regarded the one in his hand, and with a subtle thought, the blade came to life just as Roman's did.

"They go hand in hand with your semblance." Roman explained. "I figured that once you got the hang of it, you could override the programming and use them for other purposes. A weapon of circumstance, if you will."

William took the other back from Roman, sliding both into his pocket for now. He'd play with them later, figure out how to adjust their usage later. He opened the next chest and found clothes inside. A welcome change, since he so desperately needed new clothes.

A long sleeved gray shirt, made out of a heavier fabric, but William could feel the subtle stretch and the way the material felt cool to his touch. It wouldn't be hot, but a regulating effect. keeping his temperature moderate unless it was extremely cold or hot. Next was a pair of black pants, looking similar to cargo pants with the assorted pockets on the sides. They were heavy as well. a dense material that William knew Roman made most of his clothes out of. It wasn't bulletproof, but it had some resistant to most types of Dust, and mitigated some damage without getting too bulky or weighty.

A coat accompanied all of this. a full length duster with three buttons on the chest, easily undone if it needed to be shed in a hurry. The hem was curious, bulkier than the rest of the coak, but William didn't stop to play with it. He set it aside, leaning over and peering into the crate.

"Boots?" William asked, reaching down into the bottom for the last object.

He picked them up, and smiled. Roman rarely gave him clothes, but he would provide boots whenever William needed them. Boots were more important to William than the rest of his clothing. There was just so much more possible with the right set of boots.

These were modeled after combat boots, a tough exterior, with a soft leather shell that would let Willaim bend and flex his toes. The toe treads were grooveless, a smooth rubber that helped William wedge them in little grooves in brick or cinder block. The middle was standard, but the back heel was special. It was a solid steel plate, that encompassed the entire back heel of the boot. Perfect for delivering brutal kicks, or a skid plate if need be.

"I know you love your boots kiddo." Roman smiled. "And if you pull this job off well, the whole job, then you're free to go."

William turned to him, setting the boots down by the new clothes, a combat uniform if he had to guess. He took a seat on the lip of the crate and met Romans gaze. "What's the job?"

Silence was his reply. Roman was examining him, seeing if anything was shaking him or gnawing at his bones. A minute passed and Roman's gaze held firm. It wasn't one of aggression, but an analytical one, as Roman gauged William's capabilities.

"It's a two parter really." Roman finally spoke. "But only the main part is important. the other is just a side job." Roman hesitated, as if contemplating it. "It comes second either way, so I don't care if you do that." He got up, strolling around him as he talked. "But first things first with it, I need you to infiltrate Beacon Academy. From there, we can work. But if you can't even get enrolled, then we'll have to work something else out. It would work best from inside." Roman explained.

"An extended infiltration." William broached the topic slowly while narrowing his eyes.

"You'll be formally enrolled in the school. For a few months." Roman explained, "enough to get the other pieces of this plan together, nothing more. I need you to simply… watch, and be ready. You'll have little things to do once you get settled in. One part of this is I need info. On every student, every team, at Beacon. Weapons, styles, semblances. My side job plays into that. You remember Little Red?"

William paused, familiar with the reference. Roman had come in a week or two ago ranting about some little girl in a red cape. He'd ignored him at the time, since he was on another mission for Roman at the time that involved stealing a difficult crystal from a rival crime lord.

"Yes. I am familiar."

"Her team is getting increasingly annoying. I need you to poke around, and if you can, recruit her. It's unlikely, but see if you can make it happen. She's meddled in my affairs more than once and I'm fed up with it. If you can't, kill her." Roman gave him a stern look.

"Typically you don't like me killing innocent schoolgirls." William pointed out, earning him a sharp glare, Roman's hand dipping into his pocket.

It was highly unlikely Roman would bother carrying around the drug. Highly unlikely that he even felt inclined to ever carry it around when it was so dangerous, leaving its victim incapacitated in a nightmare for so long. However, That didn't stop William from easing back and biting off another sly comment.

He'd tested Roman a bit too much. Roman liked a bit of play in their conversations, it kept him lively, But he didn't like a direct jab. That was crude, and Roman hated crude.

"Watch it." Roman warned, his hand drawing away from the pocket. "This mission can be postponed a week, it won't matter."

A vision of the week William spent strapped to the chair came to mind. He never screamed. Not because Roman told him to keep quiet, but because it was one of the few things he had managed to keep from Roman. He growled and snarled and spit cursed at him. But he didn't beg. He didn't scream. No matter how bad it hurt. Usually he'd just wish for death because that would be better than half of the things he'd done.

"Sorry." William whispered breathlessly, feeling every muscle in his body snap tight like a rope.

Roman kept his gaze level, then turned away. "Just keep that in mind. No matter what you do. I still own you. You're mine. Your father sold you to me. You are my property until you pay that back, and if you don't…" Roman trailed back purposefully. "I'll find you, And you'll pay it back in blood."

William simply nodded, gathering up what Roman had given him into a tight bundle. Roman headed out of the warehouse where a white sedan with tinted windows waited on them. Roman climbed into the back, and William followed him, glancing at the driver.

Neo sat at the wheel. a few books under her gave her the boost she needed to see over the steering wheel. William resisted the urge to point that out as she put the car into gear.

Few people in Roman's organization knew about him. They knew of him. that Roman had an ace up his sleeve. someone like Neo, but Roman made a point to keep his assets hidden. As far as most people were concerned, William didn't exist, and his accomplishments passed on easily to Neo. Not even Cinder Fall knew that William existed, and William had half the mind that Roman was sending him to keep tabs on her as well.

Neo dropped them off at the safehouse, and Roman let him in. Next came a shower, and when he got out, Roman had a pair of clippers in his hand, the guard already set. William sighed, putting his head over the trashcan provided as Roman set to work.

Roman made short work of his hair, buzzing it down to the inch and a half the guard was set to. He examined it for a moment, then combed it back and forth to get the hair clippings out. He had William rinse it out in the sink again and opened a can of gel.

"No no no." William muttered, backing away as Roman advanced. "I am not letting you gel my hair. Not after that."

"That was once." Roman protested as he trapped the man in a corner.

William started to thrash, but thought better of it as Roman set to work texturing his hair with the skill of a professional hair stylist. William never questioned why Roman knew how to style hair so well, nor did he really want to. He did know the skill extended to female hair as well, since he'd reported back once to see Roman giving Neo a trim.

When Roman pulled away William's hair was textured, giving him a punk look, complimented by his clothes. His black hair was spiked a little and angled to the left. Roman smiled, washing his hands in the sink as he sauntered away.

"You look fabulous." Roman stated, "Like a boy going for his first interview."

William simply shot him a glare, and pulled on the coat. It was warm, despite it lacking a lining, and William appreciated it. It would disrupt his form in the night, and the duster kept his blade hidden. Both were welcome in the line of work he was accustom to.

"Or his first day of school." Roman admitted after he didn't get a rise out of him.

William glanced at him, but didn't reply as he headed out. Neo pulled up, and Roman caught up to him, getting in beside him. Neo glanced back at them and pointedly stuck her tongue out at William.

"Midget." William snapped at her, which shut her up quite quickly.

"Behave children." Roman teased gently, a pristine smile on his face as Neo made her way to the airstop.

William would enter Beacon just like any other student. The airship to it was literally the only way. Not even Roman could circumvent that without being too obvious. But then again, being overt somehow managed to be covert for him as well.

They dropped him off, along with a duffle bag William wasn't really sure what was in, at the bench for it. William picked it up, and Roman eased the window down.

"Buh bye!" He called, "Have a good time! Write to your loving uncle sometime sweetie!" He blew William a kiss.

William was half tempted to respond. He was half tempted to throw his sword at him. Instead he gave Roman a halfhearted wave. the wave of an annoyed teenager to his annoying parents, or in this case, 'uncle.'

He picked up the bag, unzipping it slightly to check the contents. He didn't think Roman was going to send him in with explosives of anything, but it never hurt to check. From a casual check, they just looked like spare clothes and school supplies. An assortment of notebooks and binders, a few textbooks on one end made it heavier. William took the liberty to unzip it all the way and carefully sort through it, under the guise of a student checking his supplies for the coming classes.

His search let him take a seat on a nearby bench, and he enjoyed the momentary solitude. It didn't last long though, not as long as he would like anyhow. It ended the moment a girl with garnet hair dropped down next to him.

He paused, glancing at her slowly before zipping up his bag, hauling it to the opposite side she sat. The girl noticed, appearing embarrassed, and a little put off.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." She

He was a bit surprised at her bluntness. Typically most people took it in stride. He met her gaze, and found himself amused to see her silver eyes filled with concern, and a little hurt. She was honest, her emotions like an open book.

"No harm done." He replied gently, pushing a soothing tone into his words, like a parent consoling a child. He hadn't learned the tone from his personal experience, but rather listening to hundreds of conversations on assorted jobs. People had different tones for different emotions, different accents that came from where they lived and worked. where they were born and raised. William could imitate some of it. Not all of it, But he had enough to know where to throw in a little emotion and tone to influence a conversation to achieve a better outcome.

She relaxed at his words and gave him a smile. "Well I'm glad. My name is Ruby!" She greeted him, holding out her hand. "Nice to meet you!"

Ruby. She looked familiar. William took her hand and squeezed it. He was unsurprised to feel the rough calluses on her palm, formed from years of working with a hunter's weapon. She was a huntress alright.

Little Red.

She clicked in his head and he smiled, keeping the menace out of it as he realized he already met one of Roman's marks. She seemed nice. Innocent even, never realizing that one of her enemies had just dropped an assassin off to kill her, and she was currently talking to him.

Her eyes flicked down to his bag, and her face scrunched up for a fraction of a second before she smiled, her eyes lighting up. "Are you a new transfer student? And I'm the first to meet you! Oh that's wonderful! Welcome to Beacon!"

Cheery. William gave her another sweet smile, "I appreciate that Ruby." He replied, just as someone with a noble air about her, stalked up.

She was dressed in prim, formal attire. a neat white skirt and top with heels. She looked suited to do battle against a mound of paperwork, or maybe give a speech. She had that feel about her. Everyone was a peasant when it came to her. whether she was aware of her mannerisms or not.

She regarded him with a glance before ignoring him and addressing Ruby. "I told you not to run off." She snapped, her tone and expression relaying a measure of dislike. She regarded Ruby as one would a baby or a child. It occurred to him then how young Ruby was.

He didn't doubt there was a file on her in the duffel bag, along with the rest of her team. Yet, he was learning quickly just how… naive she was. How oblivious she was to the dangers of the world. of the possibility of harm coming to her, or anything around them.

"Wiesssss." She whined as her companion pulled her off in the direction of the landing airship.

He watched them a moment longer. Observing how Ruby complained to the white haired girl while dragging her feet, which he noted were clad in combat boots. He bent down, picking up his duffel bag, and heading to the transport. The flight wouldn't be too long, a fifteen minute inconvenience. He'd soak in the dialogue, learn what words to say, what phrases they used, and do his best to filter whatever street slang out of his language before he spoke.

By the time he made it to the school, he'd quickly learned that there was no student on board who came close to swearing as badly as Roman did in the mornings. Particularly when one of his numerous plans went wrong. Or he stubbed a toe. Even now William wasn't completely sure he knew all the curses Roman seemed to have at the ready in the back of his mind.

He picked up his bag, falling behind the rest of the crowd. letting his pace set him apart as he slowed. He hated crowds. hated being a part of them. the unsure feeling of who was near you. who could touch you. It sent shivers up his spine and made him want to draw his sword to fend them all away.

But he wasn't a savage. He knew how to keep his cool. keep the emotions off his face. To hide his fears, his trauma, and appear just as normal as everyone else. Part of it Roman had taught him. another part his father, but for the most part, he simply learned to mask everything, and put on another mask when one couldn't take it.

He exited the plane alone, one of the last few stragglers getting off. He stood still for a moment, looking up at the Beacon Tower. The highest structure in Vale. An assortment of crystals hanging in it, shining a bright green. Windows dotted the structure in a neat, orderly fashion, and William took the time to admire it, even as he noticed an older woman with blonde hair approaching from the side.

He recognized her from Roman's mission reports and details. Glynda Goodwitch. SHe used telekinesis. A dangerous power, and one that he wasn't quite sure he had a chance against. Surely she couldn't control his semblance, his Aura, But a woman of her skill and experience could certainly deal with him quite quickly if given a reason to.

"Mr. Lance." She greeted him coldly.

He openly grimaced at his surname, no mask could take that away from him. "William, if you please." He replied. "I don't like my surname."

She regarded him as a cat would a mouse. an insignificant nuisance that occupied her ever so precious time. She ignored him, turning on her heels and heading back towards the tower. William followed her, pulling his bag up onto his shoulder, annoyed that it wasn't balanced.

She lead him into the building and down a hall to an elevator. They stepped in, she pressed a button ,and it rose. there wasn't any discussion, not when it stopped, nor when they got off and entered a large office.

Across from the elevator was a large window, looking out over the city of Vale. A desk, glass top, was the barrier, without a single chair in the room beyond the one a gray haired man sat in.

William knew this man as well, it was hard not to. Professor Ozpin, the headmaster of the school, and according to Roman, a man of power. A dangerous one at that. He was dressed formally. The casual way the man rose from his chair, coupled with the ease of his movements as he walked around the desk, told him that he wore the clothing often.

"William Faolan Lance." Professor Ozpin greeted, his voice calm, even. The tone almost sounded friendly, but his expression was neutral, as were his words and posture.

William glanced at him, measuring the weight in the Ozpin's stare. He came off similar to Roman, but the opposite. He came off as a man with a mystery, with a plan so extensive no creature on earth could understand even half of it but him. There was wisdom in his eyes, and a cold glaze over it. Revealing nothing, reflecting whatever looked in.

"Please. Call me William." He requested.

Glynda made a slight noise, like a snort or a sigh. Ozpin simply cocked his head up, as if surprised. "You don't like your surname." Professor Ozpin noted.

He was suspicious. That or he was like this with all his students. William didn't know. Roman did his best to never interact with Glynda, or Ozpin. He'd have to play it safe.

"No sir." William replied. "Personal matters, if you please. I'd prefer not to discuss it."

There was a fraction of a pause, as if Ozpin was picking apart the statement, and digging into it to define every secret or tone it may have or ever hold. Then he turned on his heels, heading back to his desk with the same smooth gait he'd walked up in.

"Glynda, I believe I can handle Mr. William. I believe you have other matters to attend to today." He said as he took a seat, leaving William standing in front of him.

She seemed to consider the statement before turning on her heels, the sharp punctual sound of them hitting the floor marking her exit. The elevator opened and shut. Leaving William alone with Ozpin.

There was silence again, as Ozpin leaned over the desk and adopted a position of intrigue. William felt a tingle go up his spine. He hated the feeling of being watched, and Ozpin seemed like a man who was peering into his soul. Roman had warned him numerous times what Ozpin was like. He wasn't sure why Roman knew how Ozpin was, or even when that interaction had happened, just that it had.

"You wish to join my school."

A statement, but also a goad. Trying to find why William wanted to come here. Roman had told him that he was being sent here by his uncle. A fitting reason, seeing as his mom was dead and his father was in pieces. A wealthy uncle funding his beloved nephews education.

"Yes sir." And that was William's answer. Flat, clear cut. He didn't want to give this man anything more than he required.

Ozpin pursed his lips, a moment of annoyance. So he expanded his question. "And what has drawn you to my school? Your uncle works in Vacuo, correct? So there should be no reason to send you so far, and yet he has. I can only imagine why that is, by either your motivations or his. Perhaps you could enlighten me." He explained, leaning back in his chair. His tone was again even, devoid of most emotion, a mirror of his own.

So William pushed emotion into his voice. Vacuo had a casual feel about it, a rough edge in the dialogue. It came from the place being a breeding ground for crime and bad habits. Not the place for a child, but a wonderful place to get into underage drinking, or bar fights.

"I figured Beacon would have more discipline." William replied. "My uncle's business doesn't need to be inherited by a kid who is more concerned with playing with secretaries than getting the job done." He put innocence in the tone, a void emotion that kept his face straight, and his words light.

"Atlas has a more strict society, if that is what you're looking for." Ozpin countered. "Was my school simply a closer option? If he can afford to send you overseas, why not send you all the way to Atlas, the airfare is only a piece more."

"Atlas seemed too strict." William replied. "I felt that if I went from the casual society that Vacuo fosters to one of military level discipline then I would only shy away from it more. Beacon holds a level of individuality and ease, while still encouraging discipline and self motivation."

There was a pause, and Ozpin had to shift to the next topic. William had given him an unquestionable answer, and one that might as well have been taken out of a book. It covered what was needed, and even gave hint about what William was used to. Which let William adopt a bad boy feel, a character that would give him solitary, and allow him to be a bit of a recluse, as well as aggressive in nature.

"Very well…" Ozpin hummed, then got up, heading to the elevator. "Come with me." He stated. William followed him into the elevator, finding it waiting on them.

Ozpin hit a button, and the doors closed, descending the tower. "Since you're a late entry, we had to devise a secondary method to prove your combat prowess. My school is not for the weak, and at the beginning of the year, we have a more formal test which also assigns partners through a random method." William noticed his lips quirk slightly into what might have been a smile.

"Yes sir." William responded. "So what will my combat test be?"

The doors opened, and Ozpin strolled out into the hallway. It was wide, easily eight feet across, with doors on either side. Perhaps classrooms? Ozpin picked the first on the right, opening the door and stepping in, forcing William to follow.

"Indeed. You will have to retrieve something for me. A relic of sorts. As the normal entrance exam has concluded, this will be your test. It's in the cafeteria, and I've given special orders to a specific team. They will be your opposition. Your only objective is to get the relic, and get back here." Ozpin explained, heading to the desk at the front of the class.

A map of the school had been laid out on it, along with a cup of coffee. Ozpin picked up the cup, tapping the map and gesturing towards him as he took a sip of the drink. It seemed to please him, since he took another sip.

William watched him carefully as he stepped down, examining the map. He located the cafeteria, sorting through the map and checking what he would need. This floor was the nineteenth. The plaque on the door said so, classroom 1902. Which meant he had to get down nineteen floors, to the cafeteria, and back. All while avoiding a four person team, which he assumed he couldn't kill.

"Any other regulations?" William asked, already slipping on a difference mental mask. He had an objective. He could not kill. It was a basic hit and run. His target was the relic, and everything else was just an obstacle.

Ozpin shook his head, and William turned, heading up to the doors. Ozpin paused, glancing at the map, then him.

"Do you have it memorized?" He asked, folding it up and extending it out to him.

William shook his head. "No need." He assured the headmaster, stopping at the door. "I'll get it."

"The moment you step out that door. The exam begins." Ozpin warned, his voice with just a hint of danger to it. The team was already in place. He'd assigned them this in advance, and they were ready.

William twisted the doorknob and took a step out, throwing the door wide.

Alright. So this is the first chapter I'm rewriting. And I hope it's been improved. It's a bit lengthier, which I guess is a good thing. I hope I expanded on William's character here, and made him a bit more of a person, and less of an edgeman so to speak. Feedback is always nice, and I hope you enjoy reading, or rereading in most cases.