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Cruel Consequence, Collateral Damage


"Burn, Ozpin. Do you fear the flames? How violently they will tear away at you? All your failed ambitions coming home to roost?"

Salem would have enjoyed her diatribe that much more if she got a reaction out of the headmaster, who stood calmly in her presence, making absolutely no motion to resist or protest. Their verbal spars often resulted in this horrendous, boring stalemate, and Salem had grown tired of it long, long ago.

"What sort of resistance is this, Ozpin? This is the best you can do? Do you think that being quiet will somehow deliver humanity from me?"

The man adjusted his bent and broken spectacles a dull and subdued response to her aggression and spite.

"No, I wouldn't say that."

"Well then let me know, dear headmaster. How is it like to see the end play out in front of you? What will it take for you to come to terms with your defeat?"

The man just stood there, defiant and not answering. So the witch elaborated.

"When Mistral falls? When sweet, white Atlas blackens in smoke and fire? When the people of Vacuo are driven into the sea? Tell me Ozpin, must I snuff out every single spark of hope to make it clear that your plans are finished?"

"There is much more than just kingdoms left in play, Salem. There are-"

She laughed now, and the dust-scarred landscape seemed to titter along with her, as charcoal Grimm gazed upon the exchange between the two players.

"Oh gods, yes, your inner circle, how could I forget? Sweet Glynda, the Qrow kid, stubborn Sir Ironwood. Ah... and your newest batch of martyrs, along with your very own silver-eyed warrior. How could I forget..."

She waved her hand around her head, feigning confusion and disbelief.

"How deep does your denial go? Can't you see that they are doomed?"

She took a couple steps down towards the man, her calm frustration not drawing out a reaction.

"How many times have we gone through this, Ozpin dear... After Team STRQ's absolutely stupendous collapse, I thought you would have learned..."

That dragged out a frown from the man and Salem smiled at the negative emotion.

"Oh, but now we're onto JNPR... Oh, no, not them anymore... RWBY... Oh yes, they'll surely get it right. This time for sure! Not like all of those other countless... failures...Ozpin, Ozpin, Ozpin! You can't possibly believe this."

No response yet again from the defiant hunter.

"You keep pining for that one 'simple soul', don't you? That one sweet creature that will prove you convictions right, grant you victory?"

They were almost standing on the same level, but Salem wouldn't give him the decency.

"You were wrong every single time. Latest failures include... Summer Rose. Raven Brawen. Sweet Maiden Amber... Young Pyrrha Nikos. You have wronged, again and again. But I think I understand now."

Those black eyes seemed to glow with a shadow, flickering with a perverse sense of vindication and enlightenment.

"You think you will be saved: That someone else's triumph somewhere far, far along the road will free you. Free you from guilt, from responsibility, from consequence. That fever dream of victory, far off in the future, will somehow make all of your sacrifices, all of the grief, worth it. Necessary. Just."

Ozpin stared right back into her cold, blackened eyes, shaking his head. He spoke back.

"I'm not quite sure you understand: I have long accepted my past and future failures, Salem. I do not run from them."

"That's exactly it!" Triumph blossomed in Salem's face, as she drew forth her aura, letting the dark energy reach out, dragging at something from beyond, "Selfish, selfish child, that is and always will be what you are, Ozpin."

Fractals of orange light winked into existence, dragged forth by turbulent winds and dark forces and Salem's outstretched, grasping hand.

"You think that you will be the one to suffer. The only one: That your culpability condemns you, and you alone."

Ozpin sighed as the orange freckles linked and lined up, falling into place, tiny puzzle pieces comprising a whole.

"Thank you, Cinder Fall. You've given me a most excellent example." Salem reflected happily as the figure neared dust lost its luster and faded into darkness and flesh, leaving behind the form of a fallen. Salem held the limp figure by the neck, shaking it like a rag doll to accentuate it's fate. She questioned him, incredulous and cynical, a dark snicker on her face.

"Dead as a doornail, you see? What… what the hell were you thinking?"

Ozpin didn't even address the corpse in front of him, continuing to hold Salem's gaze with determined resistance. Salem grinned even wider, and she her mockery continued to wear down the headmaster.

"But don't worry, Oz dear. She will decay, her body to ash and food for the soil. The slate will be wiped clean… Forgotten so that you can continue to go about, picking and choosing people's destinies without fear. That's the sort of ending you cling to."

Salem grasped the arrow lodged in the dead thing's chest, making it burn red and black with dark aura, tearing it out all in one piece and in one smooth motion, before brandishing it to the world. In the center of Cinder's arrowhead, a red, gelatinous bulb glowed drearily within the confines of its cage, weeping red and orange aura that lazily fluttered down and out of existence. The dead remains of Pyrrha Nikos collapsed to the floor in a motionless form as Salem released her grip and instead fixated on the dust arrow, turning it over and toying with the imprisoned. The soul held on like dew to a thread, a bead that followed gravity, but unable to escape its bond to the projectile.

Ozpin's eyes darkened, and for the first time the headmaster was in motion as he grimaced in sickening revelation.

"Let her pass, Salem. She is dead. She has no part left to play."

"No part left to play? Now you see... You have the gall to implore me to let her spirit pass on, after what you wanted to do to her? To Amber? Hypocrite."

The blackness already started to leak out from Pyrrha's wound, staining and exuding from her body. Ozpin saw the darkness begin to seep through her pale white skin as darkness began to infect her veins, possess her body.

"No worries. Ozpin: Pyrrha Nikos is most certainly dead and gone..." the witch laughed, watching the darkness rise up from the huntress, a bone-white carapace emerging from the black monstrosity.

"But your failure, it will live on. Collateral damage for all of your other immoral little dreams and hopes, hmm?"

The being stirred at Salem's command, a freshly created Grimm forming, planting its legs beneath itself as it began to rise and take a more corporeal form. Fingers drowned into the tar, sharpened into vicious claws, her face drenched with blackness, as a white mask emerged from it, obscuring her identity. Her hair was preserved in the ooze as it sharpened into some black-red mane, a powerful mass of muscle and shadow expanding outward...

It's gaping jaw opened and roared in fury, soul-less and empty, an echoing scream longing for completion, before it shuddering to the side, bent to Salem's hostage soul. The Dragons nestling at the side of Salem's staircase stirred, and a number of contorted, corrupted abominations shuddered at the new twisted addition to their ranks.

Ozpin looked straight at Salem in disappointed, disgusted look, as Salem looked down gleefully.

"Look, Ozpin! Gaze upon your creation. As we know, Grimm require time to mature, to grow wise and effective warrior-killers. But this specimen..."

The Grimm had continued to metastasize, a twisted, the pale white chitinous plating forming around its matter, growing segmented and compact, a twisted imitation of a Mistralian war armor to house its dark form.

"It has at least seventeen years of experience and knowledge at its inception! All of those memories, Ozpin! It knows how your little students think, how they fight, how they fear... I can't think of a better way to douse those bright little sparks of yours."

The monster loosed another grievous screech, as if in some mortal torment, some tragic awareness and consciousness, lacking a single drop of soul to resist Salem's control. Ozpin averted his gaze as it howled before dashing off through the dust-riddled landscape, frenzied and jealous and desperate to draw blood, to consume life. Salem and the dark entourage watched it disappear into the horizon, spectators awaiting the show. Ozpin glared straight ahead at Salem, spiteful of her cruelty, yet powerless to do anything.

"At last, you have your just deserts, Ozpin. Finally, I can be the one to mete out justice. You used her, just like everyone else, and now you suffer the consequences. Now..."

Salem laughed as she began to walk up the ascent once more, back up towards the broken moon.

"Where were we?"


Fin