"I'm not dead!"

Yeah, this chapter took way longer than it had any right to, and I am so sorry for that. Admittedly part of is that when the state lockdown started I was expecting to have the time to crank out chapters like it was going out of style since I also took a Leave of absence from work to play it safe with this bug; having a history with lung illnesses means I'm in the danger zone, who would have guessed!

But, yeah, when the time came to start writing... I was a complete blank.

I hate myself for taking so long on this chapter, especially since I got a half-decent start in the first month and then petered off at 10k words and just stopped for the next two. Regardless, I've got my momentum going now and I'm hoping to get the next chapter out within the next month and I am holding myself to that...

As long as I don't get too wrapped up in summer courses and writing my short story again, that didn't help.

Anyways, enjoy!

Chapter 39: Cat's Out of the Bag

"Three things cannot long stay hidden: the sun, the moon and the truth." –Buddha

The sensation in his stomach at the moment was…well, 'unpleasant' was not enough of a description for what he was feeling at this moment. It was that gnawing terror he was all too familiar with when something went catastrophically awry in his plans, sending things spiraling into a mad-capped dash to reconstitute; that sensation that high school was encompassed by via blanket statement. It ate his stomach with nausea, curdled his blood and made his mind thunder at breakneck speeds. Chaos was a state he was familiar with, last-minute scrambles his byword for Tuesdays in those crazed halls of academia, training him with at least rudimentary skills in regards to recovery and completion of plans.

But today, those skills were faltering.

They had remained inside the infirmary for the last minute or two, the clock overhead ticking towards 3:00 with an agonizing slowness to it. Around him, a half-dozen Imperials sat arguing amongst each other in hushed tones as they seemed to bounce back and forth between English and the jumbled tones of what he presumed was true High Gothic. They paced back and forth, the words exchanged bitter and ebbing with the same panic he was feeling. Dante and Pandora stood to one side, with the Ultramars and Gabriel at their sides, while the Lysanders, Logan and Vulkan stood opposite, Penny sandwiched in the middle of the group. Right next to Jacob, though, on the perpendicular wall to the conversation, stood Sugodai, the White Scar watching them in stoic silence. He had taken the wall in silence after they had returned to the infirmary and shut the door behind them; fortunately, Vulkan had talked the medical staff into taking off for a late lunch while he watched over Asmodai, leaving the group the room to work with.

And across the way, watching them all with a clear look of existential terror in her eyes, was Blake Belladonna, backed up against the wall next to a gurney.

Blake Belladonna, the 3rd member of Team RWBY… and she now knew about them all.

She stared at them with a look of terror and confusion, her eyes darting around to each person in the room. Jacob could tell she was piecing things together, but even then, there was an air to her posture that screamed of fear that she was in a room full of lunatics.

THUD!

Jacob jumped at that. Across the way, Gabriel had slammed a fist on the gurney next to Blake, sending her a foot up in a panicked jump worthy of her feline side.

"Gabriel, enough," barked Logan.

Gabriel glowered at the Space Wolf. "Apologies," he said as he straightened himself. "To both you and to Miss Belladonna."

Blake looked up at him with a look of dread. "You… you haven't answered my question," she tried to say in a tone of force, only for it to come out as a timid and worried squeak. "Who… who are you people?"

Mira turned to her with that maternal smile he was starting to get used to seeing. "We're… we're the same people you've known the last few mo—"

"Don't lie to me," Blake retorted back. "You're… Everything you've said… that language you were speaking? That wasn't any language I've ever heard on Remnant, and I've traveled all over Remnant with my father. Tell me the truth!"

Mira winced and seemed to hesitate, even as Blake's glowering gaze turned to Jacob.

"Tell me."

"You are in no position to demand anything," added Sugodai, "though I commend your attempt to command the moment."

Jacob swallowed hard and looked around at the others. "Should I… be the one? Or does someone else want to give her the full details?"

"We do not need her to be entirely in the know," Gabriel began.

"And yet, you were the one advocating that Asmodai it's okay to let in on," Jacob replied dryly.

"He is Imperial! He is an Astartes of one of the First Founding Legions, of course we can trust him with secrets, especially considering the Dark Angels have been keeping secrets for so long anyway!"

"I trust Blake," Jacob said. "She knows how to keep a secret too… and she deserves to know this… and maybe she can help us stop it."

Silence hung over the room for a second as everyone processed his comment.

Jacob took that as their consent. "Alright," he said, walking closer to Blake. "Where do you want us to start?"

Blake shuffled uncomfortably against the wall. "Your names. Your real names."

Jacob nodded. "Jacob Muller."

Blake blinked with a look of annoyance.

He gave an annoyed look back, fishing out his wallet. "Says so right on my driver's license," he said, pulling out his state driver's license for her to read.

She took it and squinted at it silently, her eyes reading it quickly. "…'United States?' Where's that?"

Jacob grimaced. "Not on Remnant," he said.

She gave him a look like he said he was a Faunus. "Excuse me?"

He sighed. "I'm not from Remnant. I… I'm from Earth… or Holy Terra as they would call it."

She stared at him. "You're lying."

He shook his head. "Remnant… back home, Remnant is a fictional setting," he said with a shaky breath. "For the series… RWBY, created by the guys at Rooster Teeth."

Before she could reply, he pulled his phone out and quickly scrolled to the file with Volume 1 on it. He flipped it around and let the episode Black and White play.

Blake's eyes went wide as the title credits began to play. Her pallor turned slightly paler than normal. She took a step back as if being shown an eldritch tome.

Penny stepped into view. "Ms. Belladonna… are you… okay?"

Blake didn't respond as she watched on, hearing her own voice play back at her.

Jacob eyed her worriedly. "Blake… talk to me."

"You… R-Remnant's…. just fiction to you," she said as revelation flooded her mind. She was looking down at her hands.

Jacob could read her face and the existential crisis rising in her mind. He pocketed his phone and took her hands. "Blake, calm down," he said. "You're real, all of this is real."

Blake looked like she could pass out. "I… I don't—"

Jacob returned her hand squeeze in reassurance. "Blake," he said quietly. "Easy, easy… it's a lot to take in… how do you think I felt arriving here—a place I thought wasn't real? Same principle… I know how it feels. Just… take a few deep breaths."

She looked at him with a worried glance. "How do I know you're telling me the truth? Everything you've told me could be a lie…"

Jacob felt that sting hard. He waved it aside; of course, she would think that, he just revealed he's been lying about where he's from, why wouldn't her trust in him be gone now? "There's nothing I can say in one sentence that can make you think I'm any more trustworthy," he said in shame. He had expected to be able to compose his thoughts long before he would ever have to come clean. Now, he was laid bare before her, his words unorganized and his shame exposed like an open sore. "I can only give you my word, however flimsy that is to you."

Blake looked at him for a long time, her gaze slowly going from worried to hurt. Behind those amber eyes, something was waking up, and it made Jacob worry a bit.

Less than a minute passed. "Blake, I—"

SLAP!

He recoiled back at the sensation of pain in his cheek. Blake's hand was up, an insulted anger etched into her features.

"You said Pyrrha and Yang are in danger," she hissed. "And you have the gall to keep it a secret…"

Jacob's sentence died in his throat. "I… I wanted to avoid the possibility of putting anyone else in RWBY and JNPR on the chopping block. Control the flow of events—"

"And how are they in danger," she said, leaning in closer. "You said something about the city being invaded… Cinder is going to kill Pyrrha? Why? Why haven't you said something to Professor Ozpin!?"

"Tell Ozpin that he knows the future and that a student is the architect of the Invasion of Vale and that Remnant is a fictional world? Surely that will go over well, ending with a trip in a padded truck," Logan replied.

Jacob turned around and glared. "No sarcasm right now, please," he said. "

She looked up at him in uncertainty. "A-and what about them?! You couldn't tell Ozpin but you could tell them!?"

Jacob grimaced. "Not from Remnant either. But not from my world either."

She blanched.

"They're from another universe… one that supposed to be set thirty-eight thousand years in my future."

That got her attention. "The… future?"

He nodded. "It's called Warhammer 40,000. It's a… pretty big franchise, actually, started as a tabletop game… one we've tried before."

The gears in her mind spun fast. "The game… those… those models you have… are from them?"

He nodded.

"And… they're from that universe?"

"Yep."

She over his left shoulder, Jacob following as her realized she was staring at Titus and Mira.

Titus let out a tremendous sigh. "Captain Titus, Second Captain of the Ultramarines Chapter, formerly of Macragge."

Mira stepped up beside him. "Second Lieutenant Miranda Nero of the Cadian 203rd Infantry Regiment."

"Logan Grimnar, Great Wolf of the Vylka Fenryka."

"…Sugodai Tsagaan, Stormseer of the White Scars of Chogoris."

A pause. "…Vulkan He'Stan, Forgefather of the Salamanders."

One by one, each of the Imperials in the room gave Blake their name and rank, with Darnath and Gabriel giving a title each. Blake's eyes were wide as dinner plates as they went around, her hands gripping Jacob's like a pair of vices.

Finally, all eyes went to Dante and Pandora.

Blake's ears flattened against her head. "You… you're both…?"

Dante was slow to begin nodding, visibly gauging his answer. "Lord Commander Dante, Chapter Master of the Blood Angels," he muttered quietly, almost remorsefully.

Pandora turned to look at Blake. "Pandora Nikos… of Remnant," she said with a shrug of dismissal.

Blake let out a huff, sounding somewhere halfway between exhaustion, ire and something else Jacob couldn't read. On her face

Jacob grimaced. "Easy, Blake… don't rush through it, just take a second."

Blake was quiet for a good two minutes. "I… I've just had my world turned upside down," she said. "There's not enough time for something like that."

Jacob shrugged. "How do you think I felt coming here," he said. "My reaction to seeing you was just as stomach-upsetting."

"Be that as it may," said Gabriel, "We don't actually have the time for this. JNPR is about to begin their match in… five minutes. We stay any longer and we risk drawing even more eyes to us."

"Agreed," said Mira. "Blake's absence will especially get Yang's attention, and the cascading effect goes on from there."

Jacob sighed. "She's right. We can talk later this evening, Blake, okay? You and me only, all the rest of us, whatever."

She seemed to process that slowly. "…Okay. Yeah, we… should get back."

Jacob nodded. "Okay… let's just… calm our nerves down with some… good, old-fashioned gladiatorial combat."

There was a guffaw of laughter that sounded like Logan. "Well, when you phrase it like that, makes it sound barbaric," he said.

"Says the Space Wolf," replied Dante dryly.

Jacob sighed quietly as he helped Blake back to her feet. Slowly in the back of his mind, though, he was instead trying to process the mild panic that coursed through him as he assessed his situation. A new pothole in the road, a last-minute scramble; Jacob couldn't deny the dread that flowed through his mind now as he worried if she would keep the secret or spill it.

The ice was thinning, and he couldn't tell where it was weakest now. One false step…

His stomach churned as that terrifying anxiety began to coalesce.

Jaune clutched his stomach as it audibly protested. Lunch wasn't agreeing with him.

"Oh, come on, Jaune," said Nora, giving him her usual slug on his shoulder. "No need to be worried!"

"I'm just a little… you know, a little…"

"Scared of crowds," finished Ren in his usual deadpan.

"Well, I wouldn't say that," Jaune replied, "Just, uhm… afraid of not, well… pulling my weight in public?"

Across the way, Pyrrha giggled. "Relax, Jaune," she said as she walked up to him. "You'll be fine; we're all going do great here."

Hearing her say that was almost convincing enough for Jaune's worry to evaporate—key word there being 'almost'.

He sighed as he began to pace around the room. They had been stationed inside a small lobby for the last ten minutes as the crowds reentered the stadium. The slowly-building murmur of thousands of voices was starting to add up to Jaune; they were coming to watch Team JNPR and Team ABRN fight at their maximum potential.

Jaune was in the spotlight to be the better team leader than Arslan.

Or, in general, a really good team leader.

The groan of worry left without his consent. He clutched Crocea Mors' hilt with a tight grip. Before, he had the flexibility of privacy, within the confines of the school at least. If he made a mistake, it was okay, he could try again.

It was only now just occurring to him that said luxury was gone. He couldn't screw up here.

He felt a soft, gloved hand reach out over his sword-gripping hand. He turned and was met with Pyrrha's reassuring smile.

"Jaune," she said. "it will be alright. We can do this."

He let out a shaky breath. "I know we can," he said. "I just… I'm the team leader…"

She nodded, the smile never faltering. "And you are going to do great," she said. "We all are."

Jaune couldn't deny hearing her say that helped a little more. Still, a thought was rattling in the back of his mind. "I know Mom and Dad love watching the Tournaments every year," he said.

"And they will be proud of you no matter what," she said.

Jaune couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "Weird how much all of you guys are taking this, and I'm just… being Vomit-Boy."

Nora turned to beam at him. "Oh, please, we'll be fine! Just… don't focus on the tens of thousands of people cheering for us," she said. "Just focus on being… Jaune!"

Ren nodded. "Focus on the fight. If we let the crowds get to us our opponents will get the upper hand."

He let out a shaky breath at Ren's reply. "And then, well, Pyrrha's been doing the Tournament circuit for a while. Not surprised this comes naturally."

She shook her head. "I would say 'ask my father about my first tournament', but I don't plan on dying of embarrassment," she said with a tiny blush.

Nora walked up to them, pulling them both into a one-armed hug. "Come on," she said, pulling the arm she had around Jaune up and over to where it was out in front of her, "enough with the worry-warting! We got a fight to win! Team JNPR, bring it in!"

Silence as they stared at her. She looked around at them all. "Guys, come on, bring it in!"

Ren walked up beside them and put his hand atop hers. "Alright, Nora," he said with a smirk.

Pyrrha giggled and shook her head. "Never done this before," she said, taking her hand and putting it under Nora's hand. "Why not?"

Everyone turned to Jaune. He couldn't deny their smiles were infectious, especially Nora's. He looked down at the cheer then back to his free hand. In the back of his mind, he thought back to first arriving at Beacon with his forged papers and the family sword and shield. Almost six months, and yet it already felt a lot longer than that… almost died a couple times along the way… fell in love… it sounded like something out of a fairy tale or a comic book, and yet here he was living it.

He brought it down below Pyrrha's hand, returning the smile. "Alright, on three," he said.

Nora giggled. "One!"

"Two," said Ren.

"Three," Pyrrha answered.

"Go team JNPR!"

They broke the cheer, Jaune moving to stretch his shoulders out. He didn't know why, but the cheer did help in some miniscule way.

Outside, the mumbled sound of Port's voice over the loudspeakers began to whip the crowd into a frenzy. The match was about to begin.

He nodded to himself. In a few minutes, he was about to prove himself to everyone. It was still nerve-wracking, but a part of him started to think he was overreacting.

Pyrrha walked up beside him, taking both his hands in her own. "No matter what happens out there," she said, "I know everyone is proud of you."

Jaune let out a small chuckle. "You really think so?"

She smiled. "I know I am." She leaned in and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips. He didn't hesitate to return it, pulling in closer. It was funny how good it felt; not like the fireworks from the dance, but more like a warm fireplace, intimate and gentle.

They broke the kiss. "How did a dense idiot like me ever win a girl so amazing as you," he asked himself.

"By being you," she replied as a klaxon rang outside. "Now… let's go give them a show."

He smiled as the doors swung open, letting the sound of the outside tumble into the room.

"And now, our first matchup for the final sequence of the day!"

"That's us," said Nora, bouncing happily. "Let's go!"

Jaune found himself taking a deep breath. As the crowd began to grow louder.

She's right, he thought to himself. We can do this. I can do this.

Jaune walked forwards, seeing Ren and Nora falling in behind him and Pyrrha. He turned immediately to their left, the bright sunlight scorching his eyes as he was forced to squint.

"It is a battle of heavy hitters and Huntsmen celebrities, both battle-tested in the recent incident in Vale and masters of their respective style, starting off with the representative team from Beacon Academy…"

Jaune walked out, futilely trying to cover his eyes with his hand as his sight readjusted.

"Team JNPR!"

The thunder of the audience was deafening, enough to pull Jaune's attention away from his blinded eyes. He knew how many people were in the crowd, but only now was it hitting how many were in the crowd. Easily a good couple tens of thousands if not more, not counting everyone watching at home across the world.

And his team was at the center of their attention.

He swallowed hard in an attempt to steel himself.

"Led by Jaune Arc," began Oobleck, "JNPR has already shown their skill in a life-or-death situation, thought the arena is a lot different from the field!"

"Couldn't agree more, Barty, especially considering Jaune's partner and second-in-command of the team, Sanctum Academy's champion fighter, Pyrrha Nikos."

The crowd picked up on that quickly, the cheering growing louder, with some pockets of onlookers chanting her name.

Jaune turned his head to look at her as they walked out onto the center platform of the arena. He was met with the sight of her giving the crowd a smile that could fool most into being genuine as she waved back. Jaune, however, could tell in her eyes how much she wasn't enjoying being in the spotlight again. He knew he wasn't good at reading it, but there was just this air of discomfort about her that made him worry.

Instinctively, he took her hand.

"And with the powerful brawn and quiet cunning of Nora Valkyrie and Lie Ren respectively to draw from, JNPR is a force to be reckoned with," Oobleck added.

"Perhaps," replied Port, ""But can they compete with their opponents, Vacuo's mighty Grimm-slayers?"

A section of the crowd started to cheer louder and louder than before.

"Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the representative from Haven Academy, Team ABRN!"

They walked out from the opposite backstage tunnel, all of them giving off an air of bravado and confidence that was almost level with Cardin's arrogance. At the lead was the one Jaune presumed to be Arslan, a short girl of chocolate brown skin and pale blonde hair wrapped in what looked a lot like those martial art training outfits he saw in movies. On her left flank was a girl in a navy hoodie and nearly-nonexistent short-shorts, a few wild, spiky bangs jutting out from beneath the hood in a bright tone of turquoise, opposite of the black marker lines under her eyes. There was another martial artist by the look of things on the right flank, a tan boy with a chest sash and black wrappings on his hands, and to his right was a taller boy with bright pink hair and an open jacket.

Lead by the Golden Lion of Haven, Miss Arslan Altan of the Atlan Huntsman Family, Team ABRN has a history of work in the field as well, often taking high-risk missions for the Mistrali council," Oobleck added quickly. "With Mr. Shiko's local fame back home as a master marksman, Bolin Hori's experience as a member of the Winter Lotus and the fast-flying antics of Resse Chlori, it will be a difficult battle ahead for Team JNPR!"

Jaune turned to the others for any takes on that.

"Well," Ren said, "At least he's being up front about it."

"I thought I recognized that name…"

Jaune turned to Pyrrha. "You know something?"

"I've met the one in the hoodie before," Pyrrha said.

Jaune was surprised. "How?"

"Another Sanctum student. Uses a hoverboard that change into a pair of pistols," she said as the crowd's cheering died down and ARBN mounted the center platform.

Jaune nodded. "Anything else? About the others?"

Pyrrha shook her head as she stepped forwards, drawing Akoúo. "Never got the chance to duel her. And the others must have been from the other Primary Academies."

Crap, Jaune thought to himself.

"Well, at least we know one of them," Nora said, skipping forwards with Ren following her.

"I guess," Jaune said as he followed them. "Did the others make it back to their seats?"

Pyrrha seemed to hesitate, looking around. "I… don't see them ye—wait, there they are," she said, pointing to Jaune's right. He turned to see most of the adults just sitting down, with Jacob and Blake having already taken their spots.

That being said, Jaune noticed how the two looked… unnerved by something.

Overhead, the buzzer sounded for the terrain pieces to come in. The holo-projectors flashed to life and showed the terrain slots spin madly.

He looked across the way at the opponent team. He was met with a challenging smirk from Arslan, as if she was goading him to try and outdo her as a leader.

He swallowed hard. This was not going to be easy.

In quick succession, the four slots stopped on their terrains.

The platforms around them quickly descended, leaving them only the center for the moment. Then, the terrain platforms rose back up.

On the left behind ABRN came the first. Jaune was struck by the size of it, a jungle platform filled with dense foliage, several palm trees jutting high into the sky. The ground looked marshy and difficult to traverse; the fighting there would have to be in the trees or mostly stationary.

The next one counterclockwise rose to reveal a flat desert with cacti and craggy earth, even a fake steer's skull next to a cluster of cacti. It was wide open and didn't have many hazards at first glance. A good place for a last stand if things went south.

Next up arrived much sooner… mainly in part due to its height. A series of dark blue platforms mysteriously hung in the air by their own accord, the only clue to their properties being their faint purple glow.

Gravity Dust, he realized. All the platforms have their own gravity… including the sideways ones.

That could be troublesome. Through awe that such a platform could exist, he made a note to avoid that area.

The last one, however, made him tilt his head in confusion. A small alpine area, complete with a 'mountain' that measured maybe a dozen meters up, covered in snow and pine trees. A good place for Pyrrha to mount and shoot opponents from a vantage point.

He turned to the others. "Okay," he said, "Looks like we got some half-decent options."

Nora smiled giddily. "Do we wanna take each in one-one-one?"

Jaune shook his head. "I don't think it's a good idea. Something about them tells me they're a team in a loose sense. Stick to your partner and we'll work off each other from there."

Pyrrha and Ren nodded, though Nora seemed disappointed. Still, she nodded in agreement.

"With the terrain pieces set, it's time for the match to begin! Ten! Nine!"

The crowd joined in as Jaune turned and drew Crocea Mors from its scabbard. Pyrrha shored up next to him, her shield already up. Behind him, he heard Magnhilde change into its grenade form as Nora let out a dangerous-sounding giggle. Across the way ARBN was forming up, with the Reese girl pulling out her hoverboard. Their leader, Arslan took up a pose as if to brace against an impact, her eyes noticeably trained on Jaune. Her hand, outstretched and turned palm-in, flinched once, twice, three times, a coy and smug smile crossing her face; she was challenging him.

"Three! Two! One!"

The klaxon blared.

The pink-haired boy and Reese darted left, headed for the jungle quadrant. The boy in the martial arts robes, Bolin, dashed directly at them zipping to the right with speed Jaune thought only Ruby could match.

There was a harsh clang of metal and an audible shocked cry from Pyrrha that swiftly dropped away. He turned just in time to see her go flying into the air, clearly lifted by a strike from Bolin's staff. The boy in question dashed after her with that same terrifying speed.

"Pyrrha," Jaune called as he started to take off after her.

A blur of yellow dropped down ten feet in front of him. He flinched.

Something hit him in the chest with enough force that he felt his breath be yanked out of his chest. He flew backwards and landed on his back, rolling for a few feet. He groaned as he tried to right himself; even with his Aura at full power, whatever hit him made his chest ache as he tried to stand up.

"Impressive," a lady's voice—not a girl's voice, a sultry voice sounding like it belonged to a high-society type—called out. Jaune turned around to see Arslan standing where he had been headed, a palm outstretched and glowing with her yellow Aura. "That strong of a punch turned a wall of cinderblock into rubble. Team JNPR has a good leader to be both smart and strong."

Jaune pulled himself into the stance Pyrrha had taught him against stronger opponents, bringing his shield up to his chest and angling himself so his shoulder and chest would take most of the force. "Uhm, thanks, I guess," he said nervously.

She eyed him predatorily. "All the more reason to remove you from the field," she said, launching forwards with what looked like a coiled palm strike.

Jaune didn't have enough time to brace, his shield only just taking the full brunt of her charge as their fight began. He had no choice but to be on the defensive, her powerful blows reaching around or striking full-on into his shield. He couldn't brace up, he couldn't counter, all he could do was let her back him up towards the desert quadrant.

Over her shoulder, he saw Pyrrha and Bolin go at each other, Pyrrha forced on the backfoot.

He grimaced as he turned his attention back to Arslan. She went at him with a spin kick, her foot hooking behind his shield.

Instinctively, he tightened his grip on the shield, expecting her to yank it away.

She smirked and yanked her foot down hard, pulling his arm with her.

He didn't even register what was happening, only that he had been forced to bend forwards. He looked up to see her leap up and spin again.

Jaune saw her spin tilt sideways as her foot rose up. He rolled aside as her foot came down where his head had been. He used the momentum to right himself, stumbling back upright as he backed away in his defensive stance.

Watch her style, he thought. Pyrrha always studies her opponent first…

Arslan smirked as she began to predatorily circle him. "I see Nikos has trained her leader well," she said. "You're a rookie, it's clear as day."

Jaune swallowed hard at that.

"How did you get into the Academy," she asked, genuine curiosity in her tone. "You clearly didn't go through primaries!"

At the last word, she lunged forwards, crouching low and kicking out her foot. Jaune had just enough heads-up from his Aura that he jumped back and stabbed down, managing to get a solid stab into her outstretched cab thanks to Croceas' reach.

She recoiled back at that, dropping into a defensive. "Phalanx style. No mistaking that old northerner style," she said with a smirk. "Wonder what else she's been teaching you since the dance."

"I'm ready for anything you throw at me," he said.

She shook her head exasperatedly. "You can't be that dense…"

Jaune grimaced and decided to go on the offensive, lunging forwards. She met him with a series of palm-strike counterattacks, the two of them going back and forth. Jaune felt her fists strike home several times, landing in openings in strikes. He could feel it, his Aura was slowly whittling away, even as he got some good glancing slices in.

She shifted back and launched at him with a full body charge, bracing against his shield with her arm in what boiled down to a shoving match. Jaune couldn't move without giving her an opening.

He tried to glance at the others. He saw Nora and Ren bouncing off one another as they dueled Reese and the other boy, having now backtracked into the anti-gravity terrain. With how Nora was suppressing the two with grenades and Ren was getting in glancing shots, they looked to be doing well on their part. Pyrrha was also doing well, Milo's spear form meeting Bolin's staff in a whirling dervish.

Jaune glanced over as the crowds were going wild. For a brief moment, he saw Team RWBY cheering madly, Ruby and Yang on their feet and pointing to… Ren and Nora? No, he could see Ruby was looking directly at him. Several of the adults were also cheering and rooting loudly, Pyrrha's mother gesturing wildly as her husband sat quietly, watching their daughter. Professor Ultramar was also on his feet, and so was Mrs. Ultramar, both watching Pyrrha's fight. Jaune couldn't help but wonder how his own parents were taking how he was handling this fight.

The moment was gone and Arslan jumped back, wheeling her arms around as if she were redirecting something. Jaune backed off too, shield still raised for another blow.

Arslan's Aura shimmered around her, giving her a yellow glow like the corona around the sun. She brought her hands around and seemed to pose as if jealously holding something to her side, her legs visibly tense as if bracing for something. A glowing orb of light began to form in the space between her hands, growing surprisingly quickly.

Jaune swallowed hard. "Uh oh…"

She let out a grunt as she brought her hands forwards, the orb of light turning into a beam of what looked like fire. Jaune ducked out of the way just as her hands came up, rolling and pulling his shield up in case she course-corrected. Rather than stay, though, he made a mad dash for the mountains, where Pyrrha looked to be getting an upper hand on Bolin.

He felt heat scorch his back, though there was no sensation of an impact; a glancing blow on his Aura.

He took one glance up at the overhead monitors. Pyrrha was the only one with minimal Aura wear at the moment, while Nora and Ren were below 66%. His own Aura was taking a beating, having slipped to 70%. ABRN, however, was at the lowest somewhere around 80%.

They were losing.

Pyrrha seemed to notice him, having maneuvered around to be closer to Jaune.

Jaune turned as his Aura flared a warning to him, bringing his shield up as a blast struck the shield square on. He found himself sliding backwards in the dirt before feeling his back collide with Pyrrha's.

"How are we doing," she asked.

"Pretty bad," he admitted, looking over his shoulder. "You?"

"He's good," she said with a grunt as her spear collided with his staff in a lock. "He's gotten wise to all my opening attacks."

Overhead, Port was saying something, but over the din of the fight he couldn't make it out. Whatever it was, the crowd was becoming audible again.

"Ren and Nora are getting beat," he said as the flames stopped and Arslan threw a flurry of punches.

"Want to swap," she asked through tired panting. He could feel her hand on his wrist guard.

"No, we pair up here and go help Ren and Nora."

"How do you think we're going to get out," she asked through a strike.

Jaune wracked his brain for an answer. Arslan was fast struck hard, a perfect counter for both of them. Bolin had a longer reach, perfect for countering him but not for Pyrrha, since she could match and had a shield.

As he was thinking, Arslan dropped back and let something drop from her one billowy sleeve. A dagger attached to a rope that she quickly began to swing around, the blade becoming a blur like the blades of a fan.

"On my mark," he muttered just loud enough for her to hear, "Duck and roll, then swap."

Arslan swung the dagger around and above her, the slicing blade coming in at an angle to carve into his shoulder.

"Now!"

He rolled into the path of the knife, ducking under its arc. He stumbled upright and saw his gambit had worked; Arslan's rope dart had snagged Bolin's staff as the two made their attack.

He didn't hesitate, shield-charging Bolin away as Pyrrha darted to Arslan. The boy had no time to react as Jaune pulled him away from his staff and sent him tumbling into a fake pine tree. Jaune didn't hesitate to level a hacking blow into his side, Bolin's Aura sputtering angrily at the impact. Bolin, in reaction, kicked up his legs, catching Jaune in the chest and forcing him back.

Jaune didn't take his eyes off Bolin as the martial artist righted himself and tried to make for his staff. Jaune sidestepped in front of him and thrust his shield arm forwards. Bolin took the impact square in the chest and stumbled back.

A little part of Jaune's mind spotted the change. This was the moment he was looking for!

With a short, curt yell, Jaune laid into him with as many wild, reckless swings as he could. It left him open to attack unlike Pyrrha's controlled strikes, but the wild abandon he knew his strikes had could be overwhelming.

Bolin, however, didn't seem overwhelmed as he tried to repel the onslaught. If anything, it seemed no more worrying to him than before, even as Jaune's hits made contact with his arms and his sides.

Jaune pulled back for a big swing. This was the moment he turned the tide for his team, it was now or—

He was thrown wildly aside by something hitting him. He tasted dirt as he rolled hard, letting out a grunt of pain the whole way. He finally stopped, feeling the prickles of what he presumed to be a cactus against his back Someone was lying next to him, actually partly resting on top of him.

"Ow," he heard Nora say as he tried to get up.

"You okay," he asked, righting himself. Nora laid at his feet, her eyes unfocused as if she were dizzy.

"Yeah," she said with a weak, wobbly chuckle. "That Reese girl knows how to take someone for a spin…"

Jaune looked back up to see that Bolin had broken off his fight and went to join the other pair… who know had Ren pinned in a 3-way crossfire.

Jaune glanced up at the overhead. Ren's Aura was down to 20%—no, 18% now, it kept dropping as he took glancing hit after glancing hit.

Jaune rushed forwards. "Pyrrha, shield toss!"

Pyrrha, still in a duel with Arslan, only needed to glance aside at him and then to Ren as she spun around a rope dart strike. With another spin to disengage, her shield went flying at the trio with terrifying speed, her hand outstretched to it as her other hand held her sword in a defensive stance.

"Ren, duck!"

Ren was already a step ahead, having dodged a blow from Bolin's staff and Reese's board. Pyrrha's shield struck the pink-haired guy, Shiko, square in the chest, throwing his attack off. It started to ping back and forth between the trio like a magic pinball, catching them in jaws, shoulders, chests, one bounce even hitting Bolin in the groin. Jaune could just make out the faintest hair of her Aura around it, only noticeable if you were aware of it.

He couldn't help the grin on his face as he charged the trio.

Jaune closed the distance as fast as he could. Pyrrha's shield struck each one final time and flew towards him.

Jaune balked in confusion, letting his sword arm come up. The shield spun and locked onto his arm like it had been magnetically-locked in.

A second of confusion gave way to remembering her touch.

"Damn, that's clever," he said as he redoubled his charge. A second later, he slammed into all three dazed Huntsmen, his momentum sweeping them off their feet. He saw Ren duck out of the way as he did so, darting back behind him.

Jaune stopped, letting the three of them tumble away from him. He turned to look to his team; everyone was on their feet, Pyrrha and Ren were tying up Arslan's focus right now, and Nora…

A thought crossed Jaune's mind. "Nora! Grenades!"

Nora turned to him in confusion, only for revelation to turn her face into an evil grin. Magnhilde changed into its grenade launcher form as Nora shifted to judge her firing arc.

A second later, three loud 'Tha-thunks' sounded off, three pink grenades flying up into the air.

Jaune turned to watch and box them in, but it wasn't needed. Between the ricocheting shield and his charge, they were well and dazed.

The girl, Reese, had only enough time to clear her head before the three grenades landed down amidst them. She tried to shield herself with her hoverboard.

Jaune covered his eyes as the three grenades exploded, the shockwave stumbling him. He heard all three of them scream in surprise, their voices being carried away followed by groans and cries of pain.

A klaxon sounded, followed by another. Two ring outs. The crowd went nuts.

"Amazing! Two for the price of one courtesy of Ms. Valkyrie's propensity for pyrotechnics!"

Jaune looked up and righted himself. He looked around trying to see who else remained. He was quick to see the pink-haired boy standing up shakily, drawing his rifle. He was quickly dispatched, however, by Ren and a flurry of martial arts strikes that sent him tumbling over the side with a klaxon's call.

"Jaune, shield," he heard Pyrrha say.

He turned in confusion, seeing her on her back as Arslan was winding up her dagger like a propeller. Her sword was clattering and bouncing away, yanked from her hand.

Jaune rushed at her, grabbing her shield and yanking it loose of his guard. He wound up the toss; it was no different from a frisbee, right?

He threw hard.

The shield flew for 20 feet and clattered to the floor.

He looked up from it to see both of them looking at him.

Arslan turned to her. "Seriously, what do you see in him," she asked in bafflement, drawing her dagger around for a strike.

Pyrrha brought her legs up and pushed against Arslan's legs, throwing her back just enough that the dagger impacted the ground just beneath her skirt. Pyrrha didn't hesitate to kick off into a spin, grabbing the rope with her leg and twisting it around.

Arslan, not expecting it by all guesses, let out a yell of surprise as she was yanked down. Jaune watched as his partner course-corrected and kicked Arslan square in the nose, sending her reeling back. The crowd let out a collective "oof" at that.

He grimaced as he rushed her, ABRN's team leader only just bringing a strike around to meet his sword as he swung into her. Now he was on the offensive, jabbing and slicing at her Aura as she tried to break past his shield. Now, though, he had the advantage and he was not letting it go.

He landed a strong blow in her side, Arslan letting out a cry of pain as her Aura visibly wavered. She took a leap backwards towards the edge of the center ring, panting hard as she looked about ready to strike back with another energy blast.

Jaune saw a blur of red and yellow smack her square in the head. She flew backwards, rolling like a rock as she landed in the anti-grav quadrant, being suddenly lifted up so she was splayed out on a wall like a cartoon.

Jaune turned to look back at Pyrrha, visibly panting.

"Because he always looks out for me," she said with a smile.

He smiled back, the audience cheering loudly. He looked up at the scoreboard to confirm—no, Arslan still had 16% of her Aura.

"Allow me," he heard Nora say behind him as he heard the 'tha-thunk' of the grenade launcher.

A second of just the crowd cheering.

BOOM!

Arslan went screaming the whole way down to the ground as the anti-grav platforms gave out.

Her Aura flashed and shattered as she hit the ground. The overhead showed she was at 3%.

"Crap, that was high-yield, sorry," she called out.

The klaxon overhead buzzed.

"And with a final decisive blow, Team JNPR wins!"

The crowd went crazy. Jaune had to process it. "Wow…"

Nora was cheering. "Alright! First victory and certainly not the last!"

Jaune felt someone wrap their arms around him. He turned to see Pyrrha leaning into him, smiling.

"I knew we could do it," she said over Oobleck's commentary. "I knew you could."

He chuckled weakly back at her. "You had more faith in me than I did…"

She blushed as she seemed to shuffle a little. "And… I want to do this for my hero," she said, pulling him into a kiss. He smiled as he embraced it, the audience around them becoming a cacophony.

He felt something in his chest, some rising energy that made him puff his chest out and return the kiss in full. He dropped his sword, the clatter echoed by her shield.

"Well, seems we have a burgeoning romance on the arena floor," Port chuckled overhead. "Save that energy for the next fight, you two!"

Pyrrha broke away the kiss, her face as bright red as a tomato and a sheepish but bright smile across her face. "I-I'm sorry," she said, acting less like the mighty warrior Pyrrha and more like a meek wallflower.

Jaune blushed and couldn't help but scratch the back of his head. "Well, I mean, I can't say no to a kiss… and I think it got everyone to root for us," he said.

She looked around, embarrassment ebbing off of her. "Right," she said. "More fans…"

Jaune's smile dropped a hair in worry, only for him to bring it back up. "What matters is… we won," he said. "And we won together."

She looked up at him and nodded, her smile fading a hair but still warm. "Mmh… you're right."

"Hey, you two," called Nora, "Less lovemaking, more celebrating!"

Jaune reached down and took her hand, turning. "Come on… let's give the audience what they want," he said with a hair of a shake, blushing brightly as he turned to the crowd.

She nodded as they both turned, locking hands with Nora and Ren respectively. They threw their locked hands together up into the air.

The crowd was cheering like mad now. Cheering for them.

Jaune's team was being cheered for. His leadership, his partner, his team.

He didn't stop the colossal smile that spread across his face.

The evening sun hard turned the sky a deep shade of red. The shadows of Beacon Tower and the arena were already long though sunset was not for another hour, giving the city a look of gold in the evening sun. Contrary to the warm color palette of the sky, though, the air was already beginning to chill as the heat of September began to wane. Trees were already losing their leaves, though most had simply turned new shades of color. even the maple trees had mysteriously begun to shed their leaves earlier than normal for the season.

To the older, more superstitious generations, it was an omen of a harsh winter. To younger generations, some claimed it to be a result of Dust byproducts changing climate patterns, though the speculation and research on that subject had led to a dead end.

To Ozpin, it was an omen of death.

Ozpin sipped from his mug as he stared out over the city, far off into the ocean where the waters and the sky met the horizon. The tournament's first day had been quite pleasant so far, the students getting along quite well so far; only one team-on-team encounter had occurred outside the arena, and both teams had been issued enough of a warning to back off. Team CRDL was always causing problems these days… part of Ozpin wondered if Cardin was ever going to try to attempt to use that blackmail on Jaune, just to try and push his luck.

Speaking of Jaune, the Arc boy had done amazingly for himself today. Ozpin was glad to be continuously surprised by the novice Huntsman's growing skills, and today was no exception. He had shown good leadership in the face of a moment of crisis and had come out the victor. In fact, Beacon had been subject to a good day of battles for the Tournament; usually Atlas' freshmen teams would take the lead and never give it back if they went against Beacon teams—a trend that Ironwood was all too proud to maintain. But Jaune had led his team to victory over ABRN, with an even more secured victory than Team RWBY. And on top of that, that kiss with Ms. Nikos was now trending on the CCT network.

And then there was Ms. Nikos… her fighting prowess had left three members of the same team dazed enough to be removed from play outright before they were sent tumbling over the side of the arena. In the training arena, no one had beaten her in a fight, and here she continued to prove her prowess in a team. Some were calling her the pillar that kept JNPR up, the star of their show… something he knew she wanted to avoid ever since coming to Beacon.

His mind drifted back to his first meeting with her at her home in Argus. Dante had been away at the time, a lamentable complication, but Pandora had been excited when he began to talk with Pyrrha...

She was hesitant as she sat in the parlor on the red leather couch opposite of him. "Professor Ozpin… I wanted to ask—"

He raised his hand to stop her, offering her a smile. "If it is worrying about your status, don't worry. I've taken the liberty of leaving your name of the public roster of selected students. I've also taken precautions to prevent the paparazzi from trying anything within Beacon premises, though I cannot guarantee anything about the rest of Vale should you decide to leave for recreation."

An air of tension left her, letting her back relax as she leaned in. "…Thank you, Headmaster. You have no idea how much of a relief that is to hear."

"If I may ask, Ms. Nikos… you are an incredibly talented Huntress," he began, leaning forwards on his cane. "Your talents and feats in Sanctum alone have made you a rising star in the making. But I must wonder… what compelled you to want to come to Beacon? Haven Academy already has anti-paparazzi systems in place, and Leonardo has always strived to forge the strongest Huntsmen and Huntresses in the world—even if he will oft call himself a scaredy-cat. You could at a school closer to home, closer to friends… and yet, you want Beacon. Do you mind if I ask why that is?"

Pyrrha was hesitant at first, fidgeting a little. Her hands were clasped together as she seemed to compose herself. "I… I've wanted to be the best Huntress I could be for a very, very long time," she began. "There was… an incident when I was younger that… that set me on this path… and I've strived to be the best I can be. I want to protect people, to make sure that when I become a full-fledged Huntress, I can protect people from the same threats that took someone dear to me. But…"

Ozpin felt her hesitance. "In your trials to become the best you can be, you inadvertently found yourself alone," he finished. "And no one is an island…"

She nodded. "My fame is a double-edged sword it seems," she said with a weak chuckle of self-deprecation. "Others either wanted to be friends with me because I was famous, or they thought they couldn't be friends with me because I was famous."

Ozpin nodded. "And Beacon would give you some manner of a fresh start," he concluded. "Not a perfect one, knowing how far your fame has spread."

She smiled faintly. "It would be a start. Thank you, Professor," she said.

Ozpin returned the smile in earnest. "Of course, I'll have your transcripts sent to the Academy as soon as I return," he said. "Now then, I should probably let you two enjoy your winter festivities… Sanguinala, was it?"

She nodded earnestly. He chuckled at that. "I've heard of it in passing with some colleagues. As much as I would want to see it myself—"

"Oh, please, Professor Ozpin," Pandora said as she entered. "You're welcome to stay and join us! Dante should be along later this evening."

Ozpin remembered hearing the stories of Pandora's kindness. "Thank you, Mrs. Nikos," he began as he stood up, "but I have a feeling this is a more familial occasion; I wouldn't want to spoil it. Besides, I need to meet back up with Glynda to prep Pyrrha's transfer…"

Ozpin was once again overlooking Beacon Academy in the fading sunset. He sipped from his cocoa again as he reviewed the memory again.

Something about Pyrrha had grabbed his attention. On the surface, he knew what most would think, that it was a power play on his part to snag the best students from around the globe for Beacon. They weren't wrong in that assertion, though it was not as competitive an intent as the average citizen would expect. There was something about Pyrrha, how little she cared for fame and power, save that power be used to protect and serve. It was an older notion of nobility, something from the years when the Huntsman Corps was only a fledgling organization, and seen far less frequently in young Huntsmen these days.

It was that kind of nobility that got Ozpin thinking.

He heard the clacking of high heels. "Ozpin?"

He turned and was met with the sight of a very tired-looking Glynda. "Yes, Glynda?"

She walked closer to him. "Are you alright? You've been staring down at the city for quite a bit now."

"Just… considering things," he said quietly as he turned back and looked down where the Breach had been. Most of the damage at the epicenter had been cleaned, but many buildings had been destroyed by the Grimm rampages, and few had been reached by construction crews.

"It's amazing how so few lives were lost," she said quietly. "For her master plan, I'm surprised it was so… brutish."

Ozpin turned to look at her.

Glynda glanced over. "You don't think that's the case," she said quietly.

"…She's smarter than that," he said. "This was but one piece to the greater puzzle. She's been at this for millennia now, such a brazen attack would only be a catalyst."

Glynda folded her arms over themselves. "You think she has more planned?"

He nodded gently. "Can you feel the energy in the air? The sense of uneasy dread?"

Glynda furrowed her brow. "I'm not sure I follow."

"For as much as people are enjoying the Festival and the Tournament, surely you've also noticed how people seem continuously drawn to the flotilla in near-orbit over the city?"

"Can't say I haven't been watching it either."

He nodded. "The people of Remnant are not dumb like some would think. A lot of them are thinking the same thing, though not openly; it would cascade over the city like a tidal wave, and that kind of dread brings the worst Grimm in closer. And yet, there is that feeling of dread on the air about what Ironwood's fleet means."

"The idea of the self-fulfilling prophecy," she assumed.

"By bringing his fleet and army here he has given the people the fuel to be afraid, yes," he concluded. "And we both know what fear draws in."

"I think Qrow's report from the other day rattled him too," she said. "He's been increasing patrols around the perimeter of the city, and into the farming communities as well."

Ozpin hummed. "It doesn't help that the Council doesn't trust my judgement anymore," he said with a hint of exasperation. "I still don't see how they trust his overreaction…"

"It's the reaction they want," she said. 'They need someone who validates their own fears."

Another hum. "Indeed," he mused. "His heart has always been in the right place; it's simply his methods that worry me."

Silence seeped into their conversation as they turned to watch the sunset again.

"…She's not getting any better."

Ozpin didn't reply.

"Oz, we have to nominate a successor."

"…I know, Glynda…"

He felt her hand on his shoulder. "You have a person in mind?"

He took a deep breath as echoes of wisdom consulted his mind. "I do," he said. "And she has already proven herself enough."

The elevator door slid open behind them. "Sorry we're late," came the tired voice of Qrow.

"Breaking up a scuffle between some students from Vacuo and Atlas," finished Ironwood. "As well as this festival has started—"

"There's a growing tension running amok," Ozpin finished, turning around to greet them. "I've noticed, James."

"Regardless, the people seem in high spirits," Ironwood said, walking up with his arms behind his back.

"For now," Qrow said, taking a tiny sip from his flask. "I'm just worried about Amber right now."

"We all are, Qrow," said Ironwood.

"Well, I'm not seeing a lot of action," he retorted back as he put away his flask.

Ozpin put his hand up to stop the two of them. "I've already decided on a potential candidate," he said, "though, of course, I would rather run it by all of you."

Qrow let out a dry laugh. "Last I checked, you have seniority on us by a couple thousand years," he said. "You have probably better judgement than all of Remnant combined."

Ozpin felt that twinge in his stomach. He hated that feeling. "Better still to at least see if we agree," he answered.

"So, who is it," asked Glynda.

"I was actually about to propose to you that it be Ms. Lysander," Ironwood said.

"Darnath's girl? She'd torch the first person to look at her wrong," Qrow replied.

"Indeed," Ozpin said. "I believe, though, we have seen my preferred candidate in action as of today."

Ironwood cocked his brow. "Oh?"

"A Beacon student," he said with a small smile.

"Don't tell me it's my niece," Qrow said with a look of visible worry.

"Hardly. No, none of the members of Team RWBY fit what is needed for a Maiden."

Glynda's eyes lit up. "Pyrrha?"

He nodded as Ironwood began to process that. "Ms. Nikos is an exceptional fighter… she would be a good candidate."

"If you don't count the whole 'on a team' thing," Qrow added. "And teams complicate things."

"Perhaps," Ozpin replied. "But there is something to be said for giving her a team to watch her back… especially after what happened with Amber."

Qrow visibly bristled, pulling his flask out again to swig from it. "Right…"

Ozpin didn't move to correct himself, though he did make a note to apologize later. "Ever since I met her at Dante's home, I had a feeling she was destined for great things. She's strong, she's intelligent, she's caring… frankly, I think she and Amber would have gotten along quite well."

"She seems unsure of herself," Qrow said. "At least in the sense that she seems like a real wallflower type."

"She wants to avoid the public eye any more than she has to," Glynda replied. "Ozpin said that she came to Beacon to try to avoid the media attention in Mistral."

"And wanting to avoid the public suits our needs," James added. "All the better to avoid whoever went after Amber."

"…What if she refuses," Qrow asked. "What if Dante and Pandora refuse too; they have as much as stake in this as the girl does, and I don't want a repeat of what happened with Eustace."

Ozpin couldn't help but remember vividly how angry Mendoza had gotten when Amber had returned home with the weight of the world on her shoulders. There was a fear in his eyes that had been older than he was, something that Ozpin felt echo in his own self at times, and it had surprised him. The prospect of going to Dante and Pandora about this was almost as equally daunting, unassuming as they may have been in normal circumstances; Ozpin felt an uncanny mirror image to himself in Dante during the few times when they had crossed paths.

As a 5,000-year-old being, Ozpin rarely found kindred spirits… and it always made him feel uneasy.

Ozpin blinked the thought away. "We'll discuss this with all of them present," he said. "And as always, we cannot force this on her. She must choose this path of her own accord… but knowing the kind of person she is, I can't say that she would turn this down."

The other three silently acknowledged it. "Do you want to meet with her now," asked Glynda.

He shook his head. "No, no, not now. She's just had a big day with her team's first victory. They should enjoy their evening."

She nodded as Qrow sighed again and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "For now, we should focus on keeping Amber stable," he said. "We can worry about her heir if it looks like…"

He didn't finish. Ozpin didn't press it.

"I think we should make it a priority tomorrow," James said. "Her team and most of the rest of the Inquisition aren't busy then, it may prove the time we need to slip away and discuss this."

Ozpin nodded. "A fair point. We'll bring her and her parents in tomorrow. Inform the rest of the Inquisition of an emergency meeting tomorrow… except for Mr. Muller."

Glynda looked at him. "Are you sure we want to alienate him? He's been attached to Pyrrha and Jaune a lot."

"I do," he replied. "Though I have a feeling he will catch wind of this regardless… and possibly others."

The group collectively fidgeted as that idea rolled over them all.

"There's an energy in the air around Vale tonight," he continued. "Even with our success against the Breach, our enemy is not finished. I've fought Salem long enough to know she does not rush plans forwards with abandon; no, this is a long game, and we need to be wary of any cracks."

Qrow grunted. "Like how Muller and the others in our group seem more on the up and up than they should?"

Ozpin nodded. "Hence why they will receive the message. If he is there, we know that we cannot trust them as much as we used to. If not, we know they are still loyal to us."

"I thought you trusted him," James said with confusion.

"I do… to a degree. Nice a boy as he may be, there's too little known about him, too little that we cannot pin down. We should be cautious."

The all nodded solemnly.

"For now, though, we should enjoy the approaching night," he added. "Festivities to enjoy, students to praise, babies to kiss, hands to shake… the usual."

James nodded. "I have work to do extracting information from Torchwick about the Eightfold Path and his employer," he said. "Celebration sadly may have to wait."

"Always deep in your work, aren't you," Qrow said exasperatedly.

"When so many lives are on the line with what intel he may have, yes," James said. "If anyone needs me, I will be on my flagship. I would appreciate the company."

Ozpin didn't miss how he had been looking at Glynda when he said that. He suppressed a grin at that as James walked towards the elevator.

Qrow sighed. "I'm gonna go check on Amber," he said, following behind Ironwood.

Once again, it was only Glynda and himself. The sun was almost entirely behind the horizon line now.

"You… don't think he's working with Salem, do you," she asked when the elevator doors closed.

"I can't say, Glynda," he replied. "Salem has brought many to her side over the course of this war… but nothing about him feels driven by anything Salem could offer—or has offered to others."

She watched him silently.

"…But there is still something he is not telling us."

She nodded. "I'll keep an eye out, then. We can't be too careful, even if we think he's a good man."

Ozpin nodded quietly. "Indeed. But perhaps tomorrow. For tonight, we should collect ourselves; enjoy the festivities for now, Glynda. You've earned it."

Glynda seemed hesitant. "But, Ozpin… I—"

He held up a hand. "It'll be alright, Glynda. Consider this me taking first watch. Enjoy the night while it's still young, Glynda."

She was silent, looking like a coiled spring desperate to stay coiled. Finally, she seemed to relent. "Alright… I'll see you tomorrow," she said quietly before she turned and walked towards the elevators.

Ozpin sighed quietly. She tries to forget the party girl she knows she can be, he mused. Seriousness at a time like this is useful, but she's been so stressed of late that I can't help but worry for her; I'd rather not bury her after a coronary.

He watched as the sun sank out of sight and the lights of the city winked on. Tonight, the festivities would begin to kick into high gear, with everything from folk dances in the fairgrounds to music competitions. Fireworks he had convinced to be done in the final days of the tournament rather than use them up so early.

He clenched his cane as he watched the campus grounds bustle below the tower. Somewhere down there, his future Maiden was enjoying the night, enjoying her victory… enjoying love with her partner.

Love.

He felt a pang of sadness. All of this started over love and refusing to let go of it.

He couldn't help but worry what that meant for Pyrrha.

He couldn't help but wonder what was going through Blake's head right now.

The glasses clacked around him. "First day of the tournament," called out Ruby, "first round of victories! To RWBY and JNPR!"

"To Beacon," added Yang, earning a cheer from the rest… save Blake.

Jacob grimaced as he set his glass down. "At least some Beacon teams got past day one," he said with a smirk.

"Hey, you held your own," Nora replied from across the table. "You tied with the big guy for second place!"

Yeah, well, they don't give the guys who came in second place on the first day a medal," he said.

"They do," Ruby said, pointing a finger at him with her free hand, "And it's called silver!"

Jacob suppressed a wince as he realized he stole a quote from Qrow. "Fair enough," he said as he took a swig from the glass. Only water at this table tonight; Pyrrha had said to not spoil themselves with soda until the final night, something she had picked up at Sanctum. It was a sentiment he was bemused by, and so too was everyone else there in agreement with it.

The cafeteria was surprisingly empty for an evening like this. Save for four other tables he saw around, RWBY and JNPR's table was the only one occupied. He had ventured a guess that everyone was down at the fairgrounds gorging themselves on deep fried foods like what happened at his local state fair.

He bit his tongue; even with the plate of food in front of him, that thought made him hunger for a sopapilla. He hadn't had one since… three months before he came? He had lost track, but the want for a greasy desert sopapilla with honey was now at the forefront of his thoughts on desert. He chased the thought out of his mind and turned his attention back to his plate. The cafeteria had spared no expense to bring in the best food for the competitors that came, so much so that Jacob felt a little flabbergasted on the chefs' behalf that there were so few tonight to enjoy. Jacob had stuck to his comfort foods, his plate loaded with what he presumed were Remnant's equivalent to a Polish link with potatoes and a few greens to add to the plate; sadly, no pizza, something he had been craving for months now but seemed to be absent at the school.

"So, who's going for which team," he asked as he cut another bite of roasted meet from the plate.

"We've been doing some thinking," Weiss said, "and I was figuring Ruby and Blake should represent team RWBY in the doubles on Thursday," she said.

Blake stirred at the calling of her name. "Oh, uh, right," she said, still looking distant. "Well, actually I was thinking it should be me and Yang," she countered.

Jacob swallowed hard at that. Knowing everything else, that could end poorly for him.

"It's still up for a vote," Yang added with a bright smile. What about JNPR?"

Nora gestured with her eyes. "Isn't it obvious," she said, pointing to Jaune and Pyrrha sandwiched between her and Ren.

Jacob couldn't suppress a chuckle as the two blushed hard. "The crowd does love them."

Ren nodded sagely as he sipped from his tea. "I have suggested to Nora that we instead be the representatives, simply to avoid making things any more difficult for all of us in case the paparazzi hound us."

"Cat's out of the bag on the romance plot," Jacob countered. "Whether we like it or not, paparazzi's gonna start following us all since they know your two teams are so close. I'd say embrace it and let the gorge themselves out until they have milked the story dry and move on to the next sensation."

Nora shifted uncomfortably, an action mirrored by Pyrrha. "I… well, they're… very persistent," Pyrrha said, shifting.

Jacob grimaced as he sipped from his drink. "We'll just need to make it harder for them to stay on us and easier to milk what we give them," he said. "However that goes down, we at least have tonight to ourselves, right?"

There was a murmur around the table. Jacob smiled as he trained his eyes on Blake.

Come on, quit brooding, he begged mentally. They're gonna ask what's wrong…

Blake took another slow bite of the salmon she had grabbed, her eyes distant. He pleaded with himself to not wince.

"So, Blake," came Ruby's voice, "what did you think of their fight?"

Jacob felt his filling belly twist a hair in alarm as Blake snapped out of her stupor. "Huh?"

Ruby's face furrowed in confusion. "Blake? You okay?"

"I… I, um… I just need to grab some air," she said, putting her napkin back on the table and standing up, quickly walking away. "I'll be right back."

Jacob felt the mood drop in worry and confusion. The sausage link wasn't sitting well all of a sudden.

Yang was first to speak up. "Hey, Blake, what's—"

Jacob's reflexive hand motion caught her attention. "Wait, wait, let me talk with her," he said.

Everyone was confused now. "Well, I'm her partner," Yang said, "I should—"

"I'll let you know if I think this is out of my expertise," he said, taking off after her. He dared to pray that the rest of them didn't follow… or start getting ideas about what was happening.

He followed behind her as she jogged away, headed away and out of their line of vision towards the main tower. Jacob followed, taking a quick glance back to make sure he wasn't being followed. "Blake!?"

She didn't stop.

"Blake, stop, please!"

That seemed to slow her a hair as Jacob's sprinting caught up with her. "Please don't," she said, her voice cracking, not as if she were crying but as if she hadn't even collected her thoughts.

He rounded ahead of her and managed to stop her. "Blake, please, talk to me," he said. "That reality cracking bombshell—I don't want to leave you hanging on that! Ask me whatever you need to!"

"Just stop," she asked, her eyes filled with fear. She tried to look down to hid her eyes, wrapping herself in her own arms as if the air was subzero around her.

"Blake," he begged again, taking her shoulders, "don't clam up on me… I need you to be open with me if you want me to tell you everything."

"What if I don't want to know," she said, looking up at him, practically spitting the words at him. "What if I want to forget it, or… or-or-or tell someone else so they can tell me I'm crazy!"

Jacob grimaced. "This is something you can't forget," he said guiltily. "And I'm sorry you had to learn it like this."

She looked like she was on the verge of crying, though the stoic demeanor she was trying to give off was strong and held its own against the obvious existential dread she was fighting. "Did… did anything I did for the Faunus matter… was it all for nothing? Were we always supposed to be treated like this? Has anything… I have done in my life ever mattered?"

He felt his heart sink as that last sentence cracked with emotion. "I… I think so," he said, unsure of how to comfort her. "I don't think it's for nothing… and that was the show, this… this is different, this is real."

"But… but everything you said… it means all of us… Ruby, Yang, Weiss, me… we… we started as drawings… we aren't real, none of Remnant is real—"

"No, no, no," he countered worriedly, "that does not mean that, that just means… well, I don't actually know what it means, but the fact I am here, that you are here, that we see each other and hear and feel each other, we are both real, Blake…"

She grimaced. "But the choices I made, are they my own—"

"Yes," he said quickly, though the word he wanted to say was 'probably' out his asinine habit of uncertainty. "Yes… they are your choices. I think so, at least…"

Blake was studying him through her existential panic. Jacob felt a dreadful chill at the look in her eyes. "And yet you've been playing this to your advantage… every choice… You knew about my parents because you saw them… you knew about the smuggling at the docks, the attack at the bridge… you knew about The Breach… and they all happened, and you're going to tell me that my choices were my own, and not some fucking puppet master in the sky directing my every move—directing our every move!?"

Jacob recoiled back, guilt making him wince as he. "I… you'd have a point… where it not that we're talking like this… that you chose to run to give yourself a chance to let your panic loose. That you detonated to me right now," he said back, leaning forwards to meet her stare.

She blinked as she processed his admittedly-flimsy logic. "I… I don't… I can't even begin to answer that," she said.

He smiled sheepishly and shrugged. "It's worth a try," he said. "But… I'm serious when I said that your choices were your own," he said. "I mean, predetermination is in a weird spot right now… my plan all hinges on things going the same as in the show, and just being here kicks the butterfly effect into gear… or so I would expect."

She stared at him confusedly. "The butterfly effect?"

"You know, a butterfly flaps its wings in Peking, you get rain instead of sun in Central Park?"

He only winced after finishing his sentence on account of his reference being from Earth.

She seemed to process that. "The pebble's tsunami idea, right?"

Jacob processed her rebuttal. "Sounds similar," he said, "if I'm reading that right; someone dropped a pebble in the water and the ripples eventually became a tsunami?"

She nodded.

"Yeah, that's the one," he said. "Small actions ripple out and cause big changes further down the line. Hence why I've been trying to keep on the plot path I know until the time is right."

"And the time that's right is Pyrrha going and fighting Cinder," he clarified.

"but why would they fight," she asked. "Especially to the death?"

Jacob let out a breath. "Because Cinder is not a student," he said as he took a seat on a nearby planter. He beckoned her to sit with him. "She's… well, she's in cahoots with the big bad of this world… and for us, that also includes another big threat."

Blake blinked in confusion. "Who?"

"I'll let the others describe it for me better, but let's just say they're dangerous as hell," he said.

"But how did she get in as a student," she asked with fear.

"The same way Jaune got in," he replied. "Forgery, though by all accounts he had help from the inside."

Blake processed that. "They're registered as Haven students… you're not saying that—"

"Well, the end of the last Volume I have suggested it's this 'Professor Lionheart' who's in charge."

Blake looked terrified. "A… a Headmaster? But… why? Why Pyrrha? Why any of this?"

"Because the person who is pulling all the strings present and accounted for has need of something that Pyrrha is in the roster to take the mantle of."

She watched him. "Tell me everything," she said. "I want to know everything you know."

And so, he did. He didn't keep track of the time, but he knew full well that taking too long would draw the rest of RWBY and JNPR, so he figured he'd cliff-note the story.

He leaned back as he finished. Blake seemed less overwhelmed than before; but even then, he could see her ears flicking worriedly under her bow.

"Salem."

He watched her reaction as she rolled that word around in her mouth.

"She's… the mastermind behind all of this? Why?"

Jacob let out a breath. "No clue," he said. "Nothing by the end of Volume 4 gave us any insight into her. Considering she looks like she's a Grimm herself, I'm inclined to think she's some queen of the Grimm or was the first Grimm and started as a human or something, it's all guess work since Monty had planned for at least 10 Volumes and I was only to Volume 4. Hell, there could have been something in Volume 5 for all I know, and if I made my estimates correctly, we're halfway through the—"

"Okay," she said shakily, putting up her hand to stop him, "slow down. Let's just… work with what we have."

He nodded. "Alright, from the top, 'too-long-didn't-read' synopsis," he said as he glanced around, looking to see if the others had pursued them. "Ancient magical maidens exist, most recent Spring Maiden is attacked and wounded by Cinder—"

"No, skip that," she said, "the battle… the invasion, and the key steps towards it."

Jacob nodded. "Right. Mercury and Yang duel to see who goes on to fight Pyrrha and or Penny, Emerald uses her Semblance to make Yang hallucinate that Merc was attacking her. She strikes and breaks Mercury's robotic leg, making it look like she struck—"

"Wait, a hallucination Semblance?"

"Yeah, Emerald can cause hallucinations. She does it easily with singular people, reportedly struggles with multiple people."

Blake nodded. "Okay, keep going."

"Right," he said, clearing his throat. "Ironwood goes to you, to Team RWBY, lets you know you've been disqualified, et cetera, but with both teams out as Mercury fakes his injury, it's Penny versus Pyrrha."

"Okay?"

"Emerald clocks her Semblance in again, this time forcing Pyrrha to hallucinate that Penny is basically going to turn her into ribbon fries with a wall of swords. Pyrrha panics, fires off her Semblance in a panic and throws the swords back… only for the strings to tear Penny apart."

Blake's face grew pale as her expression became pure horror. "What?!"

Jacob flinched and gestured for her to keep it down. "It's okay, Penny's an android, everyone else knows but we forgot to let you know before the Breach."

She blinked. "She's a robot?"

He nodded. "Atlas experiment of some kind." He glanced over her shoulder and saw several students walking the gardens. "I'll let you two talk about it later "Cinder hacks the airwaves and gives this big speech about not trusting the world governments," he said. "After that, Grimm start to swarm into the city with White Fang in hijacked ships, Roman breaks out with the help of Neo and commandeers Ironwood's flagship and turns the Atlas robots on the people. Anyway—"

"What are you two doing out here?"

Jacob became a spastic ragdoll as he spun in his spot and was met with the sight of Gabriel Angelos watching them. The Blood Raven was leaning against a tall decorative planter just behind their bench, watching them with a steely cool look.

Jacob clutched his chest. "Jesus H. Christ, Angelos," he hissed, "can you not do that?"

"Well, this is probably not the time for this," he said. "As it were, we need to speak with you about things."

Jacob swallowed. "What kind of things?"

Gabriel shifted. "Ozpin."

He nodded, getting an idea of what was going on. "Right… come on, Blake," he said.

"Oh, she is not needed—"

"Angelos," Jacob said, "She is in the loop now too, and unlike the Imperium there are no memory-wiping drugs to remove what she's seen. She's in, she should be there too."

Gabriel watched him with a cold stare. He only glanced at her, his steely gaze as piercing as a bird of prey.

He heard Blake stand up behind him. "I'm going," she said. "My friends and the people of this city are in trouble."

"And I presume you will report back to them and compromise us?"

She hesitated. It didn't sit well in Jacob's mind to hear that.

"Well?"

She sighed. "I know secrecy is imperative," she said. "I was White Fang. I know sometimes that means you have to keep some people in the dark until the right time."

There was an uncomfortable silence in the air between them. Jacob couldn't help but squirm a little, as if he was sitting on a bed of nails.

Gabriel nodded gently. "I hold you to that," he said. "I'd hold you to a blood oath, but I lack the power knife needed for the proper cut."

Blake was silent as Jacob stood up and cleared his throat. "Right then," he said, "enough of weirding her out, let's go, then, shall we?"

Gabriel said nothing, only gesturing for them to follow. Jacob turned to look back at Blake for a second, getting on a worried look in reply. He nodded in an attempt to reassure before he began to walk forwards. A second later, he heard her heels clicking behind him.

This was sure to go about as well as he thought…

"This is going about as well as we hoped," said Titus with a worried but exhausted tone; he hadn't even intended to have that tone, rather it was supposed to be one of relief as of the information that he had received, and yet his voice had come out tired; that same tone he remembered he used a lot as an Astartes on campaign when the fight dragged out longer than it should have. Even for an Astartes as young as one-hundred and fifty-seven, he had been on too many overly-long campaigns on account of his predecessor being forced to finagle the politics of Imperial command.

"Do tell," came the voice of Jacob as he pulled up a chair and sat down at a lounge table on Titus' left, joined by their newest, not-as-welcomed-as-he-would-have-liked conspirator. She looked rattled and tired, still obviously uncomfortable in the situation of being surrounded by people who by virtue of age and experience regrettably loomed over her.

Titus took a seat as well, grabbing one of the tables of his own. The group had commandeered the lounge of a restaurant on the edge of the campus for a hefty sum, but their usual off-campus location was still being reconstructed, and they couldn't do it right under Ozpin's nose. It hurt the coffers, but what other choices did they have, the professor's lounge? No, this place was safer, and the room they had was secured in the back, away from the eyes of the public; the storeowner had even offered to close up early to give them privacy, to which Vulkan had offered to pay even more in compensation for.

The group this time was smaller than the one that had met in the nurse's wing in Amity. The rest of Team VLAT was present, for one thing; Mira had offered to come, as well as Cain, Pandora and Dante. The Lysanders were out on the town for the night with Sugodai, though Delia's mood had been less than cheerful, much to Titus' worry. Nine people in total had come to hear the news.

"Ozpin's making his move," Titus said quietly as he kneaded his hands together. He was received with an unspoken air of worry.

"Define 'making his move,' Titus," asked Logan, the Great Wolf drinking from a frost-obscured mug as he sat in the near corner of the room.

"Amber," added Mira off to his side. "They're in the final stages of…"

Titus followed her gaze to Ms. Belladonna, sitting there with a calm face but the air of a coiled snake, her shoulders tensed a. Jacob, sitting beside her, nodded silently.

Mira cleared her throat. "...of choosing the new Fall Maiden," she continued. "He's chosen Pyrrha for the invitation."

Titus turned back to Dante and Pandora. The two parents sat on the opposite flank of the table from him in quiet contemplation, their faces cast in long shadows by the dim chandeliers and the bright candles in front of them. Dante was a visible storm, his patrician visage betrayed by the fraction of a scowl that echoed in his brow and his eyes. Pandora wore a grim resolution on her features, her shoulders heavy as she leaned back in her chair, her eyes downcast to the ground.

"So, the pieces fall into place," came Jacob's voice as he took a long drink from a glass in front of him. "We know for certain Pyrrha's the one chosen?"

"Is there any doubt," Pandora said distantly. "From the perspective of the timeline alone it's guaranteed to be Pyrrha."

Jacob nodded. "Fair enough, though now the butterfly effect is in full swing, so it could be changed up. We'll have to assume it's still Pyrrha—dare I say hope it's still Pyrrha—and modify accordingly. That being said, we should decide on whether or not we try to convince her to turn the powers down."

Vulkan hummed from his chair. On Titus' left. "The full power of the Fall Maiden cannot fall into Cinder's grasp," he mused. "If we do convince her, then we risk making Cinder's job easier. If we don't, she make take the soul merge and save the other part."

"W-wait," came Ms. Belladonna's voice, "what do you mean 'soul merge'?"

"James has been working on new technology to understand and manipulate Aura and the soul," Mira said with that tone of Imperial disgust he shared. "Amber Mendoza is currently in a stasis pod hooked up to an experimental device—"

"—That will attempt to extract Amber's soul and place it into another body," Dante finished with ire in his tone. "The question is what that will do to my daughter."

Titus watched Blake's face pale. "Extracting… a soul…"

"Like your book," Jacob added, "two souls in one guy's body… theoretically. We're worrying that the power might erase Pyrrha's soul from her own body or merge the two together like some Frankenstein's Monster of personalities and memories. Hence why we want to dissuade her."

"Why would the power go to Cinder," she asked. "Couldn't the power just be transitioned to Pyrrha?"

"Nothing like this has ever happened in the history of Remnant's Inquisition," said Gabriel from his chair in the back. "There's no telling what would happen if we simply cut her life support with Pyrrha in her sight; the power might simply rush off to Cinder to complete itself since she took part of it."

She nodded quietly in understanding, at least as far as she could. "What about the White Fang," she asked. "Jacob said they would invade too."

"Cinder has Adam on the payroll," Gabriel replied. "Veteran Huntsmen from the Vale Guild reported back to us that they had seen him collaborating with several individuals, including what we identified as Traitor Astartes."

"Traitor Astartes?"

"Chaos Space Marines," Jacob replied. "About ten thousand years before Warhammer 40K's current setting, half of the Space Marine Legions turned their backs on the Emperor and the Imperium. Led by his favorite son, Horus Lupercal—"

Titus felt the dread wash over the room at the mention of the Arch-Traitor's name. Mira shrugged uncomfortably in response.

"…Sorry, taboo, right. Anyway, under the Arch-Traitor's leadership, they declared war, seeking control of the Imperium. They were backed by the Emperor's greatest enemies, the Gods of Chaos, and by the end of it all had turned to worship of the daemonic gods. In modern 40k, Chaos Space Marines seek the subjugation or outright destruction of the Imperium, often using daemonic summoning or mad-capped horrors of science or whatever else to cause havoc."

"You already met three of them," Titus added. "Eliphas the Inheritor of the Word Bearers you met at the highway overpass a few months back; You encountered my old foe, Nemeroth, in Mountain Glenn, and Yang almost died fighting Khârn the Betrayer of the World Eaters."

Blake was quiet. "Demon gods," she mused quietly with visible worry in her eyes.

"I don't think they are actually present," Jacob added. "While the Chaos Marines are present, I've reason to believe we've been spared the gaze of the Dark Gods; they are on their own."

"What makes you think that," Gabriel asked.

"If they had the Gods, they would have Daemons too," Titus answered. "And I have yet to see a daemon in their ranks."

Gabriel cocked his eyebrow but said nothing.

"Anyway," Jacob continued, "They present a threat that hasn't manifested, but with that in mind we have to presume that Adam and the White Fang may start taking a Chaotic stint. Knowing what Adam does to Yang and by extension presents as a threat, we should consider him—"

"Wait, what," asked Blake in confusion. "What does he do to Yang?"

Jacob grimaced as he glanced around to the others. As he locked eyes with Titus, Titus gave him a nod. You need to, Titus thought to himself.

Jacob cleared his throat. "Adam pursues you and stabs you through the side in canon," he said, "before Yang goes at him to get him off you. In response… he takes her right arm off at the elbow."

"What?!"

Her sudden lunge upright got everyone's attention.

"We have to let the rest of my team know, now," she said urgently.

"That would be ill-advised," Titus said. "Yang in particular on account of her impulsiveness."

"And what about Ruby? Weiss? They can be trusted, right?"

"Under normal circumstances, yes," he said, "but enough information can change their decisions and turn the situation ugly. Ruby might rush off to face Cinder alone and get herself killed instead, or allow her Silver Eyes to activate while the Grimm dragon is not within reach of the attack."

Blake blinked in confusion. "Silver eyes?"

"Her eyes contain some measure of power," Jacob explained, "some magic or something that freezes Grimm. She rushes up to save Pyrrha and is just too late, only for her emotional outburst to activate the power and freeze the Grimm dragon to the top of Beacon Tower… as well as critically injure Cinder."

"…A second Semblance?"

Jacob shook his head. "Supposedly Summer had the same power, so whatever it is more genetic."

She cocked her eyebrow. "Forgetting Weiss?"

Jacob shrugged. "Weiss and Ruby are different situations. Regardless of that, Captain Titus is right, and it's honestly about time we talked over what needs to be done to secure the best possible victory, practicals and all that."

Titus felt his mind jump to his Ultramarine training. "Exactly. Hypothetical, then: Saving as many lives as we can, as well as the city, with focuses on Pyrrha, the rest of JNPR and the members of Team RWBY."

He saw Mira light up with a faint, focused smile. "Practical," she continued, "too many opponents for us to counter without spreading ourselves too thin. Either we save as many as we can, or we hold the city; we can't do one or the other."

"Focus on the people, then," Titus added as he let the gears grind naturally. "Vale's population consists of two million within the primary city alone, with currently an additional 350,000 in attendance for the Festival. The outer farming colonies should be considered too, another 200,000 there…"

"Most of the farming communities are small enough to be spared the majority of fighting, and most of them are a part of well-armed militias," Gabriel postulated. "We focus on the city primarily."

"How many soldiers has Atlas brought," Jacob asked.

"Two-thousand, five hundred and seventy-nine human personnel, one-thousand, five hundred and ninety Atlesian Knight-200s, thirty Atlesian Paladin Mk. 1s."

Titus wheeled to the door, finding Penny standing in it as attentive as ever with her mechanically-endearing smile. "Fortunately," she continued, "I believe I successfully isolated the virus from Atlas' mainframe!"

"Penny," Jacob said, "I'm surprised you're here. Is Ironwood aware?"

"Nope," she said with her smile at full blast. "He thinks I am visiting Ruby!"

"Uhm, hi, Penny," muttered Blake quietly.

Penny blanched. "Oh, Blake, a surprise to see you here," she said. "We were all going to meet up to talk about the tournament so far!"

Titus cocked his brow at the hiccup she let out; since when could androids hiccup?

"Penny," Blake said, "I… I know the truth… and I want to help."

Penny visibly took a minute to process that. "Ohh… excellent," she said, walking up to her. "Someone within team RWBY aiding us gives us an additional 6.2307% chance of success!"

Titus didn't even want to know about how she calculated that. "Right, then," he said. "Back to it. So, if the droids are a minimized threat, then we have more guns to deal with the Grimm. We can, in theory, hold the line."

"You're forgetting the Chaos cultists," Jacob added. "Rule from the tabletop game: where there's one Chaos Cultist, there's hundreds more surging over the edge of the trench."

"He's right," Mira added. "The ones we encountered in the tunnels were not the last of them. Backed by the White Fang, they will probably be the primary force leading the charge into the city with backup from the Grimm."

"Plan out chokepoints ahead of time and send some of us ahead to organize the Atlesian soldiers," Logan suggested. "Be ready to organize the troops for crossfires to catch them out when Ironwood gives us field-command."

"What makes you so certain that Ironwood will give control over," Jacob asked.

"He can control a lot, but not under sudden duress like the invasion will be," Titus replied. "With us to control the troops, we can maximize output of fire and minimize casualties."

"Right, that takes care of the city, in theory," Jacob said, "But what about Pyrrha, Ruby, Amber… you know, the big players here?"

"And the Grimm Dragon too," Vulkan added.

"Send Agatha to hunt it down," Mira said. "She's been refurbishing the lascannons on the Valkyrie and she just finished mounting high-yield infrared-marking missiles into the pods."

Titus nodded. "She calculated them to have the same explosive yield as a Leman Russ HE/AP Shell, and those could shatter Questor Traitoris armor any time," he said. "Couple that with infrared lock-on systems in the system, as long as she has a clean shot, she can drop the beast."

"Then she can hold the air until that thing shows up, and then the Dragon becomes priority numero uno," Jacob said. "After that, we may need her for extraction duty in case anyone gets trapped in the chaos."

Dante stood up slowly with the weight of thought heavy on his shoulders. "All that leaves now… is my daughter," he said, "and what is to become of the Maiden powers."

The room went silent.

"We have to find a way to facilitate the power gets to Pyrrha," Vulkan said quietly, "without resorting to the machine."

"You're saying we should thrust that responsibility on her," Jacob asked.

"She's the best candidate," he said, "and our other option is not an option at all."

Blake watched them. "Why," she asked.

They all stared at her in confusion.

"Why," parroted Dante with audible bafflement.

She shrugged uncomfortably. "There are Four Maidens, right? Like the old storybook tale, Four Maidens; as long as the other three are safe, she can't do too much damage, right? We cut our losses, keep the other three safe and ready to track her down later."

Titus crossed his arms. "While I would be inclined to agree to save us from logistical exhaustion," he began with a deep sigh, "the Maidens are more than that…their powers also protect four relics that Ozpin has in each capital of the Kingdoms, and each Maiden opens a specific Relic chamber. If Cinder is allowed the full power, she can gain access to Beacon's Relic."

Blake and Jacob both shared a confused look. "News to me," Jacob said with a hint of annoyance. "I remember Salem saying something about a relic of some kind at Beacon in Volume 4, but that's all we got. What do these Relics do?"

"No clue," he said. "The closest we have is only vague guesses based on what we know; the Relic beneath Beacon is the Relic of Choice, a crown of some kind."

"Alarming," Jacob said in deadpan, "A crown and the concept of Choice is involved… Apples of Eden, anyone?"

Titus gave him a confused look.

Jacob sighed. "Never mind, video game reference. So, Fall Maiden can only access that relic?"

Titus nodded quietly.

"Another motive," he said. "Salem's probably after that at the end of the day and the invasion is a perfect cover to make the retrieval easy."

"All the more reason we should get the power to Pyrrha," Titus said. "But we can't risk the soul transfer."

"General Ironwood believes it will work," Penny said.

"'General Ironwood' doesn't know if it will work safely, only that it will do what he wants it to," Logan responded dryly.

"It might be our only option," Gabriel said. "Perhaps if Dante and Pandora perform an Aura Share in the process it can strengthen Pyrrha's soul enough to make it through."

Jacob cocked his brow. "Aura share?"

"Remember in the Emerald Forest when we first met," Blake asked. "When the Ursa bit into your arm?"

Jacob's hand seemed to reflexively clench at that. "How can I forget?"

She gave him a look for a second. Revelation struck him head-on. "Ohhh, that... so, you shared your Aura with me?"

She nodded. "It drains some of the giving party's Aura," she said, "but it can supercharge a functioning Aura or restart a broken Aura."

"But you have to be well-trained in it," Vulkan said. "Some people in Remnant believe it to be a thing that should be only performed between lovers, battle-partners and family, but most have abandoned those arbitrary prohibitions out of pragmatism; why bother with ceremony if the person keeping you safe needs a boost to their Aura."

Jacob grimaced. "Fair enough. But that could work… or it might mean that, if Amber and Pyrrha fuse souls, she could bleed over into you guys too, and who knows what that will do."

"Then what would you suggest, Jacob," asked Vulkan. "There aren't many options left."

The grim look on Jacob's face was telling as he reached behind him and produced his Terran autopistol, removing the magazine and ejecting a chambered round as he set it on the table.

The room was silent as a grave. Titus felt a dreadful lump in his throat as Jacob looked around the room.

"It's a gamble," he said quietly as he looked around the room, "but… I don't want to lose Pyrrha to some kind of soul merge-overwrite machine… and I know several people in this room who don't want to lose her either."

"Ozpin will see us as traitors," Logan said quietly. "Ironwood too; he'll hunt whoever pulls the trigger."

Jacob nodded slowly. "Then let me take her life."

"How do you know the power will go to her," Blake asked.

"I don't…but I'd rather try to transfer it naturally to Pyrrha than force two souls into one body. I'm the newest member… and I'm planning to stick near Pyrrha and Jaune through the night. I'll do it."

Titus watched him closely. There was a growing weight that hung off of Jacob, unease ebbing from him. He had said it, but he was worried about it. It reminded Titus of a novitiate he knew in the 10th Company when they were sent to suppress a rebellion, being forced to give a civilian The Emperor's peace… that resolve to do the job that was marred by fear of what it meant. For an Astartes, it was a moment of transition from simple soldier to agent of war, from mortality to immortality by the simple taking of another's mortality.

On a normal person, it was like watching him sink into a grave while he was still breathing.

"We don't have to worry about that right now," Blake said. "The Invasion starts up on the night of the first round of Finals, right? That's in a week and a day… a week to figure this out," she said, a visible resolution coming off of her. Titus remembered she was a former agent of the White Fang… and she had history with being a field agent; perhaps not like this, but…

Jacob nodded. "You're right… we have time to consider our final details," he said with another deep sigh that seemed to remove part of the weight on his shoulders. "For now, we… we just be there for everyone and play our respective parts. But… just like Pyrrha tomorrow, we have a decision we have to make too."

Titus nodded. "I'd say that's about as much headway as we'll make for tonight. Let's get back to our rooms and ready up for tomorrow… especially Blake, seeing as we're certain you are in the Doubles round tomorrow."

Blake gave him a confused look.

Gabriel stepped forwards. "When I broke off to find Muller, I bumped into your teammates and said I would have you two meet up with Ozpin," he said. "Gives a good cover story and all."

"…Oh," she said quietly.

"Right," Jacob said as he stood up. "Since I'm not invited, we'll meet up after Pyrrha's been given the offer for an intel relay, okay?"

"Absolutely," Titus said as he took a big gulp of his glass of water and stood up, assessing his situation. "Vulkan, Logan, take to the streets tomorrow, scout out locations we can use for effective chokepoints on the ground. Gabriel, we'll need an idea of what the whole body of student Huntsmen are capable of, see if you can access the student archives."

Gabriel smirked. "Logistics," he mused. "Thought I was the muscle and you were the brains."

"Mira and I will be with Dante and Pandora as Ozpin gives the offer," he said. "It would do her some good to have some friendly faces for comfort."

Gabriel shrugged as Penny walked closer and saluted. "Captain Titus," she said with a cute smile, "what can I do?"

Titus hummed quietly to himself. "Since Ironwood no doubt gets anxious with you out of sight… can you access the central terminals on James' flagship, scan for the virus?"

She nodded and saluted crisply. "Ready to serve, sir," she said with a chipper giggle.

He couldn't help but chuckle at her mirth. "Good," he said before turning to Jacob and Blake.

"What about us," Jacob asked.

Mira stepped forwards. "Neither of you are fighting tomorrow," she said, "but, Blake, if you can compile what you knew last about Adam's sect of the White Fang, that could be a lot of help to us."

Blake let out a faintly shaky breath. "I… I can do that," she said.

Mira nodded. "And as for you, Jacob… just… be there for Pyrrha when she comes out," she said.

Jacob seemed to roll his tongue around in his cheek. "I can do that," he said, the tone in his voice ebbing with anticipation, as if he wanted to be of more aid.

"Good… then this unsanctioned meeting of the Remnant Inquisition is over," Titus said. "The Emperor protects."

All of the others replied, save for Blake and Penny, with the same, their salutes different, but the message clear.

"The Emperor protects!"

In the back of Titus' mind, a single thought rang out.

I truly hope so…

And after four months of waiting, you get... not a very climactic chapter, I'll concede that part. How it is that I cranked out the Breach chapter in less than a month and yet this chapter took me four, I don't think I will ever know.

Anyway, onto the next chapter, Pyrrha is brought into the fold, Blake and Jacob have a heart-to-heart with Yang dropping in, and A surprise visit from a birdbrain! Stay tuned, same Random Hand time, same Random Hand place!

As always, reviews are welcomed, follow and favorite if you really like this, and I hope to see you all in the next chapter. Bye~!