(=Chapter One=)
Beacon, 3 Weeks before the events of Volume 1
Ozpin sighed to himself as he set down his signature cup of coffee on his desk. He gazed inside of it, hoping that it would magically refill itself somehow, but he knew that such things were not possible. As far as he was aware.
He tapped the surface of his desk, bringing a series of displays to light, all showcasing different types of information. News reports. Stock exchange. Grimm activity. Student transcripts.
Deciding to focus on the latter, Ozpin began skimming through the files of potential Beacon candidates, eventually tapping on one that had caught his eye.
"Jaune Arc. Interesting that he would apply here. His parents both attended Mistril." He wondered to himself.
The sounds of an approaching elevator could be heard from the other side of the room. The elevator doors opened, and a blonde haired women entered the room.
"Glynda." Ozpin greeted as she approached. She noted what was on his screen and gave a small, yet noticeable smile as she set down a fresh cup of coffee on his table. "It's good to see that you're actually working on those transcripts instead of gazing through your window for once." She said as she stood at his side. Gracefully grabbing the coffee, Ozpin sipped its warm, caffeinated contents. "She's still out there, Glynda. Causing whatever mayhem she has planned. Gazing through that window allows me to focus. On both what I should plan… as well as what is at stake."
"Speaking of what is at stake…" Glynda said as she held out a tablet for him. "You have a message from Qrow." Ozpin took it. "What of it? Any further developments?" He asked as he unlocked it. "I am unsure. The message is encrypted."
Ozpin froze momentarily at her words. If Qrow had sent an encrypted message, that meant that something serious was in motion.
He placed the tablet onto his desk, and the message began to be decrypted. Glynda crosses her arms as she watched the progress bar. "Let's hope it's something good for once." She muttered impatiently. "You and I both, Glynda." Ozpin replied.
After a few seconds, the progress bar reached 100%, and the message came up on the main display.
The Dreaded has risen.
Glynda visibly paled at the message, and Ozpin almost immediately rose to his feet, gripping his cane as he did so. "What does this mean for us?" Glynda asked. "I need a Bullhead." Ozpin said, already walking towards the elevator. "Take care of things while I'm gone."
"What? Where are you going?" Glynda asked, adjusting her glasses.
"I cannot say, for everyone's sake," he called over his shoulder. He entered the elevator, and faced her. "Trust me." Were his final words before the elevator doors sealed shut before him.
Glynda sighed to herself, rubbing her eyes before reaching for the coffee he had left on his desk.
"It's getting harder everyday to do that, Oz…" She muttered softly to herself.
Several hours later, in the deserts of Vacuo
Ozpin stepped off of the Bullhead, his fine leather shoes meeting the rough desert sands of Vacuo. "If I do not return in an hour, then I will be dead." Ozpin said to his pilot. "If that is the case, then you are free to leave." The pilot gave a conflicted face, not expecting the bluntness that had been said, but nodded regardless. With that said, Ozpin set off into the desert plains.
Despite it being night, it was still considerably warm in Vacuo. But Ozpin pressed onwards regardless, banishing his own discomfort.
After several further minutes of travel, a sandstone temple came into view. Upon closer inspection, it was covered in ancient warnings, written in several different languages, both modern as well as extinct. Unfazed, Ozpin pressed on.
He continued forwards down a dark, dusty hallway, which had been left undisturbed for decades, perhaps centuries. As he travelled through it, the sounds of scraping could be heard, unmistakably metal. With every scrape, came a metallic cling. Ozpin entered the room from which the sound came from.
There, he saw a figure crouched in shadow, with the point of their sword buried in the ground. In his hand was a smaller blade, which was scraping along the sword, acting as a sharpener. This continued for several more moments, before the figure looked up, finally acknowledging Ozpin.
"Wizard." It spoke, with a deep, rough voice. Ozpin approached.
"I was told that you were meant to be in slumber for centuries at a time." He said.
"That is correct." The figure replied, focusing back on its work.
"Then what has changed?" Ozpin asked dryly.
The figure finally stood up, emerging from the shadow of the room. He was much larger then he had first appeared, standing at seven feet tall, in the light he seemed adorned in ornate looking armour made from what appeared like stone. Rising to his full height, he looked down upon Ozpin.
"A plan is in motion. One that will undoubtedly change this world forever. Yet I see it as an opportunity."
"To kill." Ozpin commented.
"Yes. To kill." The figure replied. "Do you stand against me?" He questioned.
"It depends on who you plan to take out, Dreaded." Ozpin responded.
"The Witch. As well as her pawns."
Ozpin's eyes widened slightly, partially out of surprise. "Really? Why stand against her now?"
"Because if her plan succeeds, then all life in this world will be purged until it is all but dust." The figure replied, inspecting its bronze-tanned sword.
"...And a world without life means a world where you cannot kill." Ozpin remarked.
"Correct."
Although he did not show it, Ozpin was flooded with relief, and released a breath he didn't realise that he had been holding. While he obviously did not see eye-to-eye on everything The Dreaded desired, he found himself glad that he did not stand against him.
"Perhaps he could be a powerful ally of ours…" Ozpin pondered.
A question for another time, he decided.
"Very well then. I shall leave you to your… preparations." He said, and began heading towards the exit.
"A question, Wizard."
Ozpin stopped, and turned back towards The Dreaded.
"Do Silver eyed warriors still walk on this realm?" Ozpin tilted his head slightly, not expecting such a question from someone like them. So he chose to answer honestly.
"They do, although not in as large numbers as before. They are quite rare."
The Dreaded nodded to himself slightly, processing the information, before returning to sharpening his sword.
With that, Ozpin turned back and left.
"An interesting development indeed." He mused to himself.