"One at a time, boys!" Ozpin called out crisply, and when the children recognized the authority in his voice the aggression left them and reason returned. "Take it easy. One at a time," he repeated, and one by one they hoisted themselves out of the flaming wreckage of what had once been a train.
'Damn Salem,' thought the aging man, 'Damn her and her stupid games.' The blonde woman beside him stiffened as the last child pulled himself through the rubble just as one final explosion rocked the clearing. The child was flung into a tree – or would have been, had the blonde not caught him with her telekinesis.
The child, who couldn't have been older than five, openly gaped at the woman. He recovered with a burst of questions, aimed at the man. "Who are you? Where am I? What are we doing? Why did the train stop?"
Taking his time, Ozpin drew himself up to his full height. Standing in front of the three-foot tall child, he cut quite an intimidating figure.
The child shrank into his feet, but still ventured forth his first question, "Um, who are you, um, sir?" Clearly, the boy was not accustomed to dealing with imposing adults. Nonetheless, Ozpin was impressed. Well, as more impressed than he usually was. After all, governing a school of teens armed to the teeth tends to dull reactions.
"I'm Ozpin, and this is Glynda," he replied, intent on answering the boy's questions in order. Before he could get any further, the newly dubbed 'Glynda' cut in. "You may call me Professor Goodwitch."
Ignoring her, Ozpin continued on to his next answer. "We are currently in a clearing. The train has been destroyed, and we are trying to figure out what to do with the survivors. From what we can tell, the train was rigged with explosives, which were remotely detonated." He paused, gesturing at the group of small children that were huddled closely together. Glynda was checking them over for injuries.
The boy, apparently deciding that Ozpin was a trustworthy adult, risked another question "Do you know where my family is? They were also on the train," he choked out, "but I don't remember which car they were on."
At this, even Ozpin could do nothing but shake his head sadly. "I'm sorry," he said, even though both of them knew it was no substitute for the boy's loss. He reached out, gripping the boy's shoulder. 'Be strong, it will be alright,' he wanted to say, but in his heart, he knew it would not be.
Almost as if sensing what Ozpin was thinking, the boy shook himself out of Ozpin's grip and dashed back to the vehicle, frantically searching for any sign of his family.
Ozpin watched on sadly as the little blur ducked in and out of the burning compartments before stopping in front of the bodies of a blonde couple. The child choked out a sob, before breaking down and crying into the arms of his parents.
And Ozpin could do nothing but stand guard against the horde of Grimm that was sure to come.