I, Divine

by RoomCorner

Years after awakening and getting comfortable in a world he was not used to, the man who must not be named accepts what seemed to be another simple mission, hoping for a distraction. However, the former commander of the Culter Dei finds himself uncovering old secrets...again.

1. Where Our Story Continues

Greetings, this is a crossover for E.Y.E: Divine Cybermancy and RWBY. I appreciate you reading it and giving feedback.

For people who played the game: This part of the story is a prologue that begins after the events of the game. While the game's plot is confusing even for the people who managed to finish it and reach the real ending, I think I have a pretty good grasp on the whole story. That said, be aware that this story follows my interpretation of what happened before the protagonist ended up in his cycles, considering that the game had an open ending. Some parts of the story will be told through 'flashbacks'. However, I will not attempt to distort or, god forbids, jeopardize the events that may or may not have happened off screen. Just sticking to the parts that were revealed and common sense is enough, and most of the flashbacks will be telling the story of how the protagonist(Rimanah) got where he is now, and how he met several characters that are not familiar to the readers of this work of fanfiction.

As for the RWBY fans who somehow ended in this dark corner of the web:

I'm not planning to make this story hard to comprehend, but you may find yourself wondering who the hell am I writing about. Concepts may seem off, characters unfamiliar and it may not be easy to understand what source material on E.Y.E's part is all about. Though E.Y.E has a fair share of world building, you have to look for it.

That said:

- "You gain Brouzouf" Dialogue

"You gain Brouzouf" Thoughts

- "You gain Brouzouf" Telepathic communication

+You gain Brouzouf+ Communication via cyberspace. Extremely fast and done without talking.

I don't own anything, no profit is being made here. Just a writer's bunny I had for a long time and I may get real sorry for posting it here. E.Y.E 2 WHEN, MY LEGS ARE OK. DON'T MAKE WAVES.

---

Prologue: Where Our Story Continues.

Bovan surveyed the sight around him. From the captain's bridge of the ship, his ship, he saw his target. A civilian vessel, carrying hundreds of passengers to their future homes in the colony.

The colony his band of looters raided several days ago. As Aeron saw the ship entering the orbit around the planet, he once again thought about how he ended up living a life like this. For a moment, the drugged mind of a deranged looter chief drifted towards remembering the past.

He remembered his life being shit. Growing up in an overpopulated city, where the federal police differed little from the criminals. Life without parents was horrible, and to survive, he had to become tough, incredibly tough.

He became part of a band, became its leader later. He smuggled, killed, raped and did many things much worse. The new slaves that they picked from the colony were a half-living proof of that. Years later, he would rise high enough to amass a following. Nearly three hundred individuals even more deranged and hopeless then he was.

Finally, he had his own people. He was not the same helpless boy that roamed the streets in search of food, he was his own person. His body, that now had cyber parts in it, was like a book of life to him.

As he was ready to give the command to target the engines, he saw something in front of him.

On his captain's bridge, on the other side beyond the reinforced screen, through which the crew was looking at their target – was a man. He was grabbing onto something while aiming his huge gun right at the looter chief.

The cybernetic eyes widened as he first recognized the armor and then recognized the gun.

- "OH FU-"

The mysterious attacker fired and watched as the reinforced glass cracked and the every person on the captain's deck plunged into the open space. He forced himself inside just before the armored plates closed the ruined illuminators.

+Dutch, status.+

+At the main entrance, ready.+

+Copy. Ten seconds.+ He approached the control panel and quickly hacked into the door control system.

At the lower side of the ship, there was chaos on the looter side.

Precise bursts from Dutch's sulfatum shredded each member of the band. Holding his minigun in the right hand, he threw the grenade at the next turn, exploding six more looters into bits. With his head, he gestured his partner to move out.

Huan turned, facing the bloody mess that was once part of the crew. Rifle with extended mag ready, he moved out. Already hearing more looters approach from both sides, he took his submachine gun in his left hand. Quickly approaching the crossroads, he fired both sides.

His energy shield shrugged off several stray bullets that managed to land on him. Both of them continued clearing the deck while Rimanah made his way from the captain's bridge.

The crowd of looters already amassed, taking cover against the walls and ready to fire at anything approaching them.

- "Lower decks, this is Willson, what the fuck is going on there?" No answer. "Lower decks?"

- "Shit. I don't think they ar-". Instead of finishing, the looter exploded into fleshy bits." Where Willson was standing a second ago, was a man in armor with katana in his right hand and a heavy submachine gun in left.

- "Mother-" The scream was silenced as the attacker decapitated another member and continued to slash his sword at the rest of the crowd with superhuman speed. After finishing the last one, he fired three shots that pierced the heads of approaching crewmen."

The scattered crew was now on full alert, but the remains grouped up and decided to barricade themselves in the ship's segments. With communications down, and ships network hacked – they were blind.

- "Anything from the armory?" Jonah, one of band's lieutenants asked the closest member, who was busy barricading the entrance to the cantina. Thirty or so people ganged up, weapons ready, on nerves and partially high on drugs, expecting the intruders to show up.

- "No. Nothing from the crew quarters either."

- "Fuck. Are they out of their fucking minds to attack the ship filled with armed people, prepared to fight?!"

- "I swear, I'll be cleaving their faces for the next week for that." The subordinate replied, before he heard a loud thud.

Something punched the metal door. Hard.

All talking suddenly stopped as eyes watched fist prints appear on the metal surface. Two more punches, and the barricaded doors started shuffling the objects made to back them up. The attacker paused.

- "What the-" One of the looters did not finish as the doors flew from the handles with such force that they knocked out the closest goons.

All eyes looked at the person at the entrance. The attacker started firing the moment his way was clear. He was clad in heavy armor that was a mix of black and gold. Ornaments on his helm and body reflected the lights around him.

Loud gunshots echoed in the corridors, as three barrels moved between the targets, spinning and never stopping the barrage.

Around ten seconds later, Dutch stopped.

+Dutch here. Rendezvous point secured. Second floor clear.+

+Huan, First floor clear.

Dutch heard a sequence of gunshots somewhere above him.

+Rimanah here, just finished with the armory. Third floor clear.+

+Nice. See you soon, Dutch out.+

He scanned the bodies around him, there were no survivors.

Less than a minute later, the strike force was reunited.

- "Anything good in the armory?" Asked Huan.

- "The regular."

- "Better luck next time." Said Dutch.

- "Not much loot in looters, if you know what I mean. This band makes it, what, eleventh this month?"

- "Tenth." Replied Rimanah, looking at the ripped body of a crewmember. "Feels like these days there are more missions from the Consortium instead of the usual meta-streumonic warfare."

- "Hey, if you want to hunt whatever piece of streumonic ass you laid your eyes on, I'm sure Orionos will take you with him. I'll take people over meta-will any day." Replied Huan sliding his hand on his gun.

- "Well you are already starting to talk like a looter, maybe you could start your own gang."

Huan turned his head and looked at Rimanah:

- "Look who's talking. Your knowledge comes from spending too much time with your pirate buddy. And compared to him..." Huan raised his hands and gasped the area around him. "…this is small time."

- "I'm just saying that corpos have their own armies to take care of small problems. EYE has better things to do than waste time on this gutter trash." Rimanah paused than stood up. "And Chiung can be useful sometimes."

- "Meh, whatever. We get the funding. Plus there are more dead looters."

- "Well, that's always a plus."

- "Ladies, let's just finish the mission." Dutch said to his companions with a hint of irritation. "Huan, what do you have?"

- "Civies in the lower decks. And the storage probably has brouzouf chips."

- "Then we'll make our way there. Rimanah, can you contact your mentor?"

- "On it."

- "Killjoy." Said Huan, glancing at Dutch.

- "Tell me that after he chews you out on being slow." Dutch replied

+Mentor, this is Rimanah. Ship secured, en route to the civilian holding area."

+Good work, disciple. The ship will be closing in with the looter vessel, be prepared for transfer in ten.+

+Affirmative, Scrab will take care of the controls."

The trio made their way to the elevator.

- "And not to mention – you seem to get into weird stuff. That Possomos 24 mission? Glad I wasn't there."

- "Yeah, watching the riots with a cold one in your left and hooker's ass in your right."

- "You, our mentor and this fella almost died there." Huan said with a hint of concern and nodding in Dutch's way. "And that's just summing the story."

- "Tell that to our mentor. Next time he decides to wander inside a century lost titan-class ship packed with all kinds of meta-streumonic forces, he may remember me saving our asses."

- "Not the point I was trying to make. If you keep attracting that kind of mess, your perfect mission record will inevitably stop being one."

- "It's not like I can do something about that. So far I can only do what I have to. Maybe when I become a commander things will be different. Anyways, what's wrong with you? You seem to be less...intimidating lately."

- "Fuck you." Dutch let out a small laugh after Huan's response.

- "But seriously." He said "You've been acting more spaced out, Huan. What's up with that?"

- "Nothing." Huan muttered. "Just some weird dreams."

The elevator's doors opened as the E.Y.E agents walked to the large doors into the storage bay.

After fiddling with the console, Rimanah opened the door.

The sight was bad. It was horrible, really.

E.Y.E agents looked at the horrified faces of looter's prisoners.

- "About a hundred of them, mostly female." Dutch said, surveying the people.

- "Lower the gun, will you." Muttered Rimanah.

Dutch did. Such sight was nothing new for him.

+EYE to SUV 'Merlin'. Prepare the medic crew, we have about a hundred or so colonists still alive.+

+Copy that, sir. Medical personnel are on standby.+

Rimanah sheathed his weapons and made a step forward. He kneeled besides the closest prisoner. A pretty woman that covered herself in a thin blanket. There were bags under her eyes and bruises all other her body. He grabbed her hand gently.

- "We were sent here by Space Unlimited. Medics are on their way."

The woman stopped shaking and looked at him. Rimanah had the feeling he saw her somewhere before, but somehow could not remember it, even though his cyber brain was functioning perfectly.

Something was not right, he felt an odd sense of déjà vu.

Ahriman blinked. Something that cyborgs with replaced eyes don't have to do. The woman was now missing her eyeballs. She was bleeding from both of her sockets.

Memories flooded his mind. He was not on the ship anymore. He was standing on a ruined road, with gigantic sword-like spikes around him.

Tearing his gaze from the now empty hand, he looked at the gate in front of him.

Then, grabbing his head and falling on his knees, he screamed.

---

The train was slowing down. Arriving in the capital of Atlas Kingdom from another city. Many people were looking through windows, some looking for their family members, others just enjoying the scenery which unfolded in front of them. The capital of the most advanced kingdom of Remnant was a sight to behold.

As the train closed in with the station, AK-130's and armed guards could be seen guarding and patrolling, looking for suspicious individuals and occasionally checking documents, before said people even reached the ID control.

- "The security is even sharper now!" One the passengers exclaimed, looking through the window at the small scene. A male person, was talking with a security guard, who was backed up by an atlesian knight. They seemed to be conversing on high tones. The passenger also noted that said person had a tiger-like tail behind him.

- "Apparently, it is even worse in airports. At least they allow people to meet passengers at the station, and not wait for the outside of terminal's territory." A woman sitting next to him replied.

- "Last time I arrived here, there were just regular railway security folk, not the actual military."

- "They are probably doing this to prevent terrorists from harming the citizens." The woman replied.

A small pause ensued.

- "Well, that is rather ironic, Atlas has been very peaceful for years. It would make more sense to take such measures in vale, where the White Fang is more active. They have it rough there."

- "Regular people certainly do."

The conversing pair turned their heads towards another man. He was slowly changing his pose to a more comfortable one, while fixing his tie. He was wearing a black winter coat. Underneath could be seen a rather expensive suit and tie, accompanied by a white shirt and a pair of black boots. He was also wearing gloves. Overall, a default choice of attire for Atlas' weather and mood.

- "Oh, you're awake. Just in time." Answered the male passenger.

The passenger looked at his face, seeing relatively short length blond hair, side parted without revealing any skin under it. Hollowed cheeks, a very clean face, lacking any natural pores or facial hair and a well outlined jaw. He was sitting not far from the man, but he couldn't perceive the eye color. It was somewhere between grey and blue, the pupil was larger than average and there were several thin silver rings around it in the iris area. He tried not to stare and saw them... slowly rotating? He also noticed that the skin was somewhat pale.

- "Yes indeed, and crime is on the rise" The woman replied. "Roman Torchwick has been robbing dust stores all other Vale."

- "Well, thieves will be thieves , I guess." The awakened man stated as the train halted. "Atlas has its fair share of problems."

- "Oh, now I remember! The first passenger exclaimed. "It's about the murder case of the council member. That must be the reason atlas have been on high alert for past weeks."

- "Yeah, probably" Ahriman, now rising from his seat replied. "Take care you two."

- "Same goes for you."

As Ahriman approached the exit from the train's wagon, he saw several security guards pass near the exit. Dismissing them, he looked around him. Thankfully, the trains didn't have any cameras installed. Nobody was paying attention to him. It was morning when the train arrived and there weren't that many people inside or at the train station yet.

He approached the metal doors, and activated his cyber cloak. After exiting the train he ran at a fast pace towards the terminal, and after reaching it, to the exit, slowing down in more crowded areas so he wouldn't bump into anyone. As he left the train station territory, he saw a white car and a driver in a suit, waiting for someone. Most likely for him, judging from its SDC emblem.

As he hid behind a wall without CCTV cameras, he disabled his cloak and started walking towards the driver.

The driver, recognizing his face from the description that Jacques Schnee gave him, greeted him.

- "Greetings sir, am I waiting for you?"

- "Yes. You're Klein, right?"

- "That is my name." The butler replied. "And you must be mister..."

- "Ahriman" Rimanah replied, taking a note that lately, he's been rather freely telling random people his default name. The name he has been using for the past three years, ever since he arrived on this god-forsaken planet.

"Guess I'm not as careful as I used to be."

- "Very well sir, I was ordered to take you to the Schnee estate. The road from this station will take quite some time, and if there is anything I can do for you, please, feel free to ask.

- "I'll just sit in the back." Ahriman replied, opening the back door, before Klein could do it for him and taking a seat.

- "Should I turn the radio on, sir?" Klein said, taking the driver's seat.

- "I'm fine anyway." Ahriman replied, descending into his thoughts, as Klein turned the radio on.

He turned his head and looked through the window. He saw streets with well planted trees that were surrounded with snow, people walking to their jobs in shadows of Atlas' grotesque and aesthetically designed buildings.

Ahriman allowed his mind to wonder, reading thoughts of nearby pedestrians.

Little people, little thoughts. If they had aura, it would have been more difficult. Depending on a person, at least. The lack of wide-spread cybernetization made it much easier to read minds through the default use of PSI skills. If before his arrival, most of the people had cyber brains that were easier to hack than try to read, then now he found his mind wondering freely from one person to another.

Through this time on this planet, his path of a "Security consultant" crossed the lives of many people. However this job was more of a font.

Grimm, faunus, humans. In past three years he has killed representatives of any social or ethnic group. Military personnel, insurgents and terrorists, androids(Although Scrab called them nothing more than automatons, and Ahriman only agreed. They weren't sentient, and their capabilities of executing relatively simple commands have been grossly overrated), politicians, criminals, wild fauna and even huntsmen.

The latter proved a certain amount of challenge to kill sometimes. It was mostly because of their aura. It amplified their physical capabilities, providing its user with shielding, if he was able to properly channel it. Aura could also be used with various dust types, which made it an essential, if not the main tool of Huntsmen all around Remnant. Though, for the Culter Dei commander in exile it only meant resorting to higher-caliber ammunition that would pierce aura in one shot, or simply shoot hostile huntsmen more, so they would make a mistake or run out of their reserves. Semblance users, however, could be more difficult to handle.

He, of course, also had to integrate himself into regular network of Remnant. They used a really old "pre-ocean" information network with use of multiple relay points and coverage areas. TrKn2, Cyber-ECHO interface were non-existent terms here.

Old, no virtual reality, but still compatible with his cyber brain. Not every machine was connected to it, but it was still possible to interact with every piece of technology integrated into "obsolete" network. Through his ECHO interface he could connect and take under control any connected platform within that was within his reach. He had to be careful and disconnect himself from the web. And when hacking, he usually used multiple "proxy" relays, rather than directly attack from his cyber brain, that made him even more untraceable.

Utilizing not only completely alien encryption algorithms that started to appear and were perfected since 2158, after old technology laws no longer applied and seemingly impossible IT problems have been solved, but "borderline magical" technological feats, when the so-called cyber security experts broke their minds trying to find out reasons of various anomalous security breaches or not even being able to interact with their machines. When the regular encryption and information laws were ignored or made fun of.

How did the whole Atlas network of their fabled atlesian knights in their capital go down for several days? How did every single surveillance camera in the city one day showed a single, unchanging image? Who fumbled with civilian databases whenever they wanted, creating fake ID's and deleting unfavorable people, without being noticed? And finally, who hacked into Atlas Federal Reserve?

Of course, such cases were kept hidden from the general public, and were discussed behind closed doors. Even with the spread of rumors, nobody had any idea who was capable of such feats. Not the council, not Ironwood, not the academy headmasters.

Only two individuals could interact with this hidden world. One person and one robot with advanced AI. But the person operated on a different level.

He was the most powerful cybermancer of his time, master of the three gates and the greatest warrior of E.Y.E.

That is who Rimanah was once. Now he was Ahriman. Commander Rimanah died on Mars around four years ago. In another world, on another planet.

"Whatever Jacques wants this time, I hope it will provide a distraction.

His thoughts were interrupted by a radio broadcast.

"The recent death of Oxford Green, a well-known politician and a council member has left the public in a state of shock. Known for his controversial law projects regarding business expansion and government's role in the economy, as well as several tax reformation ideas, Mr. Green has sparked many debates in political society."

Ahriman decided to listen to the broadcast about the man he killed three weeks ago.

"New details about his murder, which the police claims to be political, have been released to the public. Apparently, he was shot while he was giving a speech near the council building from, and I quote, 'dust sniper rifle'. No additional details have been revealed yet, and the case has been transferred to the special investigations unit of Atlas Police. It seems, however, that no more investigation details are available to the press and Atlas refuses to give additional commentary."

Ahriman frowned. He remembered shooting the guy from his BOSCO, not from any weapon that uses dust ammunition. Why would the police reveal false information? Or falsify the evidence?

He rubbed his chin.

"Ironwood."

The comment itself sounded absurd, such quote didn't carry any sort of valuable information. Not for press, not for general public. Unless...

It was a message.

He really should be paying more attention to his actions, like during his first year on remnant.

- "Is everything alright sir?" Asked Klein, in reply to his passenger's reaction.

- "Yeah, just listening to the broadcast."

- "That was a tragic incident. To think, that someone would kill the member of the council while he gave a speech.

- "Nothing of value was lost, really. They will elect a new one sooner or later."

- "It is only inevitable. By 'they', you mean the citizens?"

- "No."

Klein let out a small laugh.

- "You don't seem to have much faith in the council."

- "I hate politicians. Most of them have an attitude that would make your boss look like a generally nice and well-mannered person."

- "Ah, I see you're familiar with Jacques Schnee."

- "That's why he called me in. Work matters."

- "If I may ask: what is your line of work?"

- "Security consulting."

- "Well, now I understand why you are here. And as a professional, what are your thoughts about company's current status?"

- "Aren't you asking too many questions for a butler?"

- "If so, then forgive me. I merely tried to initiate small talk."

They continued they ride in silence, until Ahriman said:

- "I will take a nap, but I will probably wake up before we arrive."

- "Understood, I will turn the radio off."

As Klein turned the radio off, Ahriman put his hуad on the back of his comfortable seat. He closed the eyes and his consciousness connected itself to his own cyberspace network that he established.

+Welcome back sir. Again.+ He received a message from Scrab's main host in his Headquarters.

+Report, Scrab.+

+Grimm activity has risen for the past week, however, they are mostly concentrated on the outskirts of the forgotten city. They present no immediate danger.

+Understood, maybe it's a territorial migration.+

+Possible. Additionally, groups of armed individuals wearing White Fang uniform have been spotted traversing in and out of the city.+

+Contact?+

+No armed engagements, they seem to be patrolling the southeast area. City plan analysis shows a possibility of an underground encampment.+

+Not good. Avoid contact, but make sure that they stay away from our hideout. They must not find out about our presence. Or my ship and stash.+

+Possible solutions?+

+Stay low and improve defenses. I will deal with this personally later.+

+Affirmative+

+Equipment status?+

+Nothing to report. I rechecked the catalogue thirteen hours ago, everything is present.+

+Ship systems checks?+

+Nominal.+

+Defense installations?+

+None triggered, I have placed additional dust anti-personnel mines through the perimeter as well as several hidden cameras and turrets+

+Did you find any use for abandoned industrial installations?

+The melting house as well as several factory buildings can be utilized only after heavy repair work. There are tools and materials scattered around the city, but with my current number of proxy units as well as with the enemy presence, this option won't yield any favorable results. Even if we manage to get the factories operational, the production of ammunition, as well as other equipment, will be problematic to say the least.+

+We still have tons of ammo, but if it runs out, switching to dust is not an option. Gunpowder ammunition has better velocity and impact, not to mention, dust is not compatible with my guns. Energy weapons are an option, but I don't have many of them. And supplying myself with energy ammo is even harder... Speaking of dust, how are our generators?

+Operational, we have enough dust to provide our makeshift base with energy for 3 more months.+

+Good, I will visit soon and will take care of our animal problem. Ahriman out.+

"Guess I'll have to break some legs later."

"..."

"..."

"..."

+One more thing Scrab. Is the car being watched?+

+No, judging by the CCTV data, you're free of any pursuit. But I would recommend using a different car, free of any allegiance markings. Plus a different starting point, a garage away from the residence, preferably.+

+I know that, but I did not exactly get to choose. Besides, I could use a chauffeur once in a while.+

+Please do not get careless, Atlas has yet to give up on their attempts to monitor you. Considering that you exposed yourself by using regular ammo for your last assignment, the general is most likely alerted.+

+So you've also figured that out. He can't catch the one who doesn't exist, but you're right. I need to. I will have a conversation with him later. Take care, Scrab.+

+A conversation? Change of plans, it seems. Have a pleasant stay in Atlas, master.+

After this conversation. Ahriman has decided to think about his problems as they come. True, he had many things to do in one day. He felt like skipping time and decided to sleep a little while his body ran diagnostics. He also configured his playlist of songs that was stored in his cyber brain to play some ambient trance music.

Truly, he felt like he wasn't as careful as he should be.

~40 Minutes Later

Waking up just when the car stopped, the commander in exile reached for the door handle and rose from his seat.

His synthetic skin met the cold temperature that surrounded the world outside of the comfy, well-heated car. Although to Ahriman it made no difference. There was not enough of organic tissue in his body to make cold weather a threat. Getting used to this planet proved to be a rather easy task, even with some aspects of this "world" seeming idiotic and hardly explainable, but he dealt with worse.

He even tried to find explanation for some of things that have been happening. The faunus, for example.

That question grabbed his attention even more than Grimm. They were obviously, unnatural. There's no way that there could be species that resembled humans so much, while having random animal traits, that were hereditary. There had to be an explanation.

He studied multiple samples of faunus DNA and made several discoveries. Same double helix DNA, but it deviated from human. But it still had its basic chromosome set. XX or XY and 23 pairs of chromosomes carrying genetic information. The pairs carried basic information, just like in any other human being body development routine. But there were also additional instructions. Different, each for a certain body part of an animal, and different genes. These genes were supposed to make a body more agile, the host being more able to defend himself.

Changes in the nervous system depending on an animal type. But they were simply too diverse: ears, tails, fangs, even skin types. But to call faunus different species would be a huge mistake. The scientist community of Remnant must be way out of touch with biology. And the possibility of 'interbreeding' that resulted with healthy offsprings only showed that faunus were human mutants that could still reproduce with their normal counterparts.

Traces of genetic engineering. Generations passing by did little to hide it, someone long ago fumbled with humans and animals, creating mutants that passed on their changes to the next generation. And why create them with so many different features? Some were outright disgusting. There was a result, but was that something that the creator wanted?

Probably, otherwise Remnant wouldn't have an all you can eat hybrid buffet for Grimm expanding its gene fond.

One more mystery, who created the faunus? One thing for sure, the name of the species sucked ass. The technology of Remnant nowadays wasn't advanced enough to create something like this, even as imperfect as it was. And it sure wasn't ages ago, when the community flourished and expanded, so it could have many descendants with same 'features'.

Ahriman had spent some time trying to figure out that question.

Aliens?

Well…

God?

Please.

Precursor races that fell due to war and now their creations roam around killing each other?

Sounds too Sci-Fi. Though, it is possible. Same could be theorized about the Grimm. Maybe whoever lived years before had a hard on for animal ears or tails? Bio-augumentations were something popular from where Rimanah was from, after all.

Yeah, that would explain things.

-Line Break-

He quickly glanced at the Schnee residence, enormous as it was, and followed Klein towards the entrance. It's been a while since he was here. Maybe a couple of months? The one time he once in a life time acted as a bodyguard for Whitley and his father on a small trip to Vacuo.

Something about checking production personally and showing his son how mines and production facilities operate. A quick trip without trouble. It was supposed to be, at least.

He did run into armed goons.

Oh well, pacifying them was not hard. Smash a couple of faces, break some legs. Reminded him about his first job for SDC. Unofficial, of course.

A job. Why did he need one again?

Following Klein into the manor, he carefully wiped his boots, making sure that there were no traces of melted snow. Klein, at the same time, changed into his regular uniform, by simply taking his coat of and changing into the new pair of boots. He turned towards Ahriman, to take his coat, but the latter carefully pulled it in half and carried under his right arm.

- "My belongings stay with me."

Klein frowned, but nevertheless, complied.

- "Shall I?" He asked, after Ahriman made sure his attire was in proper condition.

- "Lead the way."

The walk took some time, but none of them said a word. Klein made his way through halls and long corridors with many rooms with confidence, while Ahriman occasionally shot glances at family portraits and various paintings. Also, knight statues. Cliche, but they looked quite fitting. At least they hired a proper interior designer. The pair stopped near a large door, right next to another family painting. Ahriman could see every family member pictured together. Their faces differed, however. The family's head had a look of a proud parent on his face, the artist even managed to hide a small smile under Jacque's still black moustache. Winter looked at Ahriman with absolute disgust. Another point goes to the artist for accurately capturing a real life character.

"Wait. That's her mother. I guess it still counts."

The offsprings were sitting close to each other. Whitley was sitting in the middle shooting a very charming smile. His sisters, however, had a very sad look on their faces.

"This painting screams family issues."

He then turned towards Klein, who stated knocking on the door.

- "Sir, I have brought Mr. Ahriman, as you instructed.

- "Good. Let him in."

Ahriman shot a last short glance at the family portrait and went inside.

- "Klein, you are dismissed."

Klein nodded and exited the room. It was smaller than Ahriman expected, but it had a nice touch to it. A desk at the end of it with a portrait. Two rows of bookshelves along the walls, having several decorations aside books on shelves. A couch and a comfy armchair with a small glass table in the middle. He could see a lamp near the couch.

He put his coat on the couch and took a seat. Silence ensued.

- "Ahriman."

- "Jacques."

Ahriman noted a small portion of distaste in Jacques mind. It was from his habit of calling him by his first name. Ahriman made an oath of not calling or recognizing anyone as his superior after his exile. He was the ex-commander of the Culter Dei, not a petty criminal.

- "I have to say, when we agreed on my next order of business, I thought that you would execute it without causing such reaction from both public and the council."

Ahriman rolled his eyes.

- "It was up to me, the public will quiet down after some time. The council can look anywhere they want, but they won't find any evidence that could harm you, or your company in any way."

Jacques took a sip from a glass on his table. With a sigh, he continued.

- "Well, you most certainly have completed your objective. And I'm more or less satisfied with the outcome."

Ahriman just continued to stare at his employer.

- "And considering your experience and traits, as well as your manner of work, I wish to offer you another task."

- "Go on."

Jacques rose from his seat. Taking a glass with him, he went towards the armchair and stood next to it, facing Ahriman, who was still sitting with a dull look on his face.

- "There has been an alarming development. My company is suffering from terrorist attacks and has been suffering for quite some time now. I believe that there are more people involved in these attacks than I originally thought."

Ahriman's dull expression faded away.

- "Ironwood?"

- "He is also concerned, even though he clearly lacks understanding of how much harm the recent dust robberies caused."

- "The terrorists usually target your trains and warehouses, don't they? I thought that they are filled with atlesian knights for protection, no?

- "They didn't do anything!" Jacques slammed his glass at the table. "Sure, they can fend off regular thugs easily, but when it comes to huntsmen, they are a complete waste of resources."

Ahriman remembered some details about atlesian robots. Again, calling them androids would be a huge mistake, though they weren't completely horrible. At least the design was good, though they were laughably easy to destroy with one or two shots from his weapons. Their advantage was in numbers.

- "And the damn animals have been targeting them in Mistral, Vale and even that cursed Vacuo!"

- "Didn't I take care of any troublemakers in that desert?

"Shithole is a better word."

A small pause ensued.

- "You did. But that was another issue."

He took a seat in his armchair.

- "Vacuo is a wretched place, even their so-called academy couldn't establish order... It was a struggle between my security forces, and the local criminals who had corrupted officials on their side for generations. And then I decided to send you."

He paused.

- "Less than a week later, not only did the fighting stop, but you have managed to make them fear my company. Fear so much, that the surviving scum stays away. And I have some good contacts on the black market. As well as officials under my thumb."

- "Shadow economy is inevitable for that kingdom."

- "Calling it a kingdom would be a stretch. Now I don't have any problems with workers not being able to do their job, and the local officials don't even pose any restrictions or try to leech me out of lien."

Jacques took another sip.

- "And as a cherry on top, the SDC now has a position of order, meaning people recognize more. While the intervention, of course, was not official, people will think twice before acting against the company.

Another pause ensued. Ahriman continued to stare at Jacques.

- "And your skills are required again. While Ironwood's security measures can provide a certain level of protection to our partnership in Atlas, both his and kingdom's authorities' attempts to stop the attacks are failing pathetically. And the worst thing, these animals have grown too proficient."

Ahriman raised an eyebrow.

- "Too proficient." Jacques repeated. "Thanks to Roman Torchwick."

- "You believe that he is associated with them?"

- "That would be an understatement. He has been targeting dust resellers all across Vale. The amount of robberies has skyrocketed for the past few months.

- "I heard about that." Replied Ahriman. "Dust resellers in Vale and even your competitors, that actually exist, are struggling because of attacks from both White Fang and Torchwick. Shipments of dust are being stolen. Prices are rising."

- "Considering that last year was practically free of any terrorist attacks on my property, lately they have been growing in number and in level of professionalism. Something changed drastically."

"And I know why the previous year was so good for you."

- "Torchwick is not a complete idiot, he has enough experience and connections. With enough manpower he can cause serious damage. But I don't see any reason for him to associate himself with terrorists. Let alone steal only dust in such amounts." Ahriman said.

- "While failures of my competitors benefit me, and lack of dust means that resellers will order more from me - the situation is escalating too quickly. The main damage falls on my property. I believe it is time to intervene." A wry smile has appeared on Jacques' face.

- "I'm listening." Replied Ahriman.

- "There are two objectives. First of all, I need you to put an end to these attacks. Use any means necessary."

- "Does that involve beating Adam Taurus to a bloody pulp?

The elder Schnee paused and blinked. Then again.

- "I beg your pardon?"

- "Faunus have been feeding off your dust for a while now, and the terrorist segment of the White Fang group shows their support for him. It is likely that he is connected to the robberies that took place off city."

- "Who is he again?"

- "Their hero or whatever, has a high popularity, even more than some khans. "

- "Khans?"

- "Their leaders for certain territories."

Jacques took another sip from the glass and went to his desk for a refill.

- "They are indeed vermin, and you seem to know a lot about them."

- "Part of my job is to know such things."

- "Then pray tell, what is the current status of this organization." He air quoted the last word.

- "Pretty bad, actually. Their presence in Atlas is nonexistent and with recent security measures, it will stay that way."

- "What about other kingdoms?"

- "Dramatically reduced, it is unknown to public, but several high-ranking khans have been assassinated, and their influence is much lower than before. Similar goes for their operation centers as well as for their members and various supporters."

- "By who?"

- "Someone, I guess."

Jacques frowned.

- "Hm, I see. And this Taurus, whoever he is... How dangerous is he? Now that you mention it – I think I heard that name before."

- "I can classify him as a huntsman, I still hate saying the damn word."

Ahriman rubbed his face with his hand.

- "His influence is dangerous enough, he is supposedly a veteran member of the organization, enlisted before it eventually resorted to violence. "

"I should have killed them last year, before leaving."

- "Considering what you said, I wouldn't be surprised if he was disposed of either by the military or by his own kin in some political game of popularity."

- "Word goes around that he is rather hard to kill, let alone control."

Ahriman paused. He reached for his coat and took a small glass bottle of water, which he drowned a moment later. Putting it back inside his coat, he continued:

- "His popularity helps him, if he would die, he would probably be seen as a martyr and people would take arms... at least that's what kingdoms see."

- "And your thoughts?"

Ahriman's expression changed a little.

- "Considering the current official attitude towards White Fang group from kingdoms is trending towards 'forgive and forget', instead of a required crackdown - that is complete bullshit. I say kill the guy and the White Fang will lose even more ground in their struggle."

- "And yet he is still alive."

- "Like I said, he is supposed to be a strong hunts…excuse me."

- "Hunstmen."

- "Thank you. It's a shame that bounty hunting only works for Grimm. After the amount of people he pissed off, he is currently begging for a price on his head."

- "You are saying that you will have to get rid of him to complete the first objective?"

Ahriman shrugged.

- "Won't hurt. That would be like killing dad of the year in front of his own children." He looked at Jacques who was staring at him with a raised eyebrow. "Metaphorically speaking."

- "Very well, I understand the situation and trust your judgment in these matters. That is why I will add an additional bonus for his elimination. But you understand that under no circumstances they should find about who hired you."

"At least I will get paid more now."

- "The last part was implied".

"Killing Adam qualifies as a high-profile job on its own. I really need to start charging more."

- "Of course it was. And I'm doing god's work ridding society of this scum."

- "Aye, so what's for the next objective?" Ahriman asked.

- "Secure the product. I need to recover every bit of dust they stole."

- "All of it? Pretty sure they got dust from various small time exporters not to mention the stores."

- "And nobody else seems to mind that! Currently I am the only one who decided to put an end to these series of robberies! The product that they have accumulated will serve as a fine compensation."

- "I see."

A small pause ensued while Ahriman processed the information.

- "So... Secure dust, put an end to these robberies and kill everyone in between."

- "The last part is up to you. You have your methods and I know their efficiency. I don't care that much why do they steal dust or who is responsible. But the ties to the terrorist group worry me, make sure to leave no evidence that could lead to my company. The Taurus is an annoyance, but without Torchwick he would probably remain White Fang's scarecrow. From what you say, it is most likely that he is responsible for their recent actions."

- "I will need access to security records and all information on robberies your company has suffered for the last several months.

Jacques took a sip from his glass and continued:

- "You will get it. Do as you see fit. The animals must store my product somewhere. In several places, most likely. The SDC will have its security services ready to pick them up after you secure the locations. Our presence in Sanus is big enough to provide support for your missions. You will have a handler assigned to you."

- "A handler? I thought I report directly to you?" Ahrimna winced when he said 'report'.

- "I'm a busy man, and your contact is a very important person who is close to me enough to know of this task."

Ahriman looked at Jacques with a confused expression. The elder Schnee continued:

- "Besides, with recent developments, I believe he should know more about important decisions that the head of this company has to make."

With these words Jacques took his scroll out of his pocket and made a call. After a moment he said:

- "Whitley, head towards my office, it is about your assignment."

As he pressed the screen of his scroll to end the call, he refilled his glass and looked at Ahriman, whose expression returned to normal.

- "Surprised?"

- "Somewhat."

Jacques approached Ahriman.

- "I find a certain level of respect from my son to you, and considering your knowledge of how our society works as well as certain life views that I have come to appreciate, I believe you will make a good impact on his development."

- "He is alright." Ahriman shrugged. "He's in your favor this season?"

Jacques expression changed to a more worried, even though he tried to hide. He turned his back towards Ahriman and made several steps to his desk.

- "Perceptive as usual. It is true. There have been developments, and now I am trending towards making Whitley the main heir. The company must have a competent leader, before I face my ultimate demise."

His face now showed a determined scowl.

- "Thankfully, it won't be soon, I plan to lead this company until I am on my death bed, but until then, I will secure the future of both my family and this business that has been entrusted to me."

- "You are a trusted ally not only to me but to my fam-."

- 'I am a neutral party, Jacques. Acquaintance at best when it comes to relations. I worked for you, and I still do. But don't perceive business relationships as an allegiance."

- "I know well enough where you and I stand. But I've been in the business for a long time. Things are changing. And not in a good way. I feel like all my enemies and allies are turning on me altogether. Terrorists keep plaguing my life's work with an actual support from some of the public, authorities try to leech and bind me even further and the military…"

Jacques sighed.

- "…If Ironwood was at least competent and stopped singing praises about his specialists. We don't even have many Grimm on this continent."

- "Point please."

Jacques glared at him.

- "I need to secure my legacy."

- "You are afraid for your life."

- "I'm always at risk. But what will happen when I pass away? Will all this come to ruin? My daughters do nothing but swing their swords trying to play fairytales. You are cooperating with my son for this mission. If there is something to happen to me, I want you to guard him."

- "That's… a completely different discussion."

- "And make sure that the company prevails through him."

Ahriman looked blankly at Jacques.

- "Who do you think I am? Jacques, I'm not a fucking private tutor and if I was – this would be beyond my pay grade. Not to mention, what exactly do you expect me-"

- "And who are you really?" Jacques asked. "Two years ago you appeared out of nowhere and offered to bring several mines into compliance after riots. The results: no casualties and complete success in pacification. You don't even sound like you are interested in your work, yet you execute task perfectly."

He once again took a drink.
- "I read the news. Sometimes there are incidents to which I think you are tied. But you have no past, no loyalties. It is not hard for me to learn things about someone. But you – you are an expert at staying invisible."

- "I know how."

- "Ahriman, a man with your skills… I will be honest, I don't want you as an enemy. Information, combat, business insider knowledge…"

- "There is much more where that came from."

- "Oh, I'm sure. Teach Whitley what you know and make sure he becomes successful, for that I'm willing to...seek compromise."

- "What?" Ahriman looked at Jacques with a frown.

- "Consider that an investment into the future of my company."

Jacques stared at him in complete seriousness.

- "And what exactly do you mean by that?"

- "I don't have to tell you that, do I?"

Ahriman felt a sense of jamais vu. Was Jacques becoming senile? He knew very well that people would kill to approach him to through any means possible. That included influencing his family. But in a way, that made sense. The man needed allies, and he could understand the wish to protect his legacy. And Ahriman has been showing miraculous results for those who hired him ever since he arrived. Having him interact with Whitley would even be more effective than throwing dozens of tutors at him and overworking him to death, maybe Jacques even knew that.

But the situation was surreal for Ahriman. Then, something came to his mind. A certain idea that he abandoned years ago, even before his ship crossed the Einstein-Rosen bridge and came across a lone planet where humanity existed.

An idea of becoming a mentor.

- "Father, you called..."

Both men turned around, seeing a young boy, dressed in white short-sleeved shirt and a pair of blue pants and a vest, accompanied with a black tie and a hankerchief in its pocket.

Ahriman looked at the fourteen year old boy, then at Jacques.

- "We will discuss it later."

- Scene Break-

Ahriman originally planned to say 'know your fucking place' but the proposition actually intrigued him. He glanced at Whitley as he followed him to the dining hall. Jacques asked for something that no favors or money could buy. He asked without knowing anything about Ahriman. If only he knew at least a little about the organization Ahriman was once a part of, about the amount of knowledge and archived technologies that Ahriman possessed or about his actual skills and his past.

No lien on Remnant could by the allegiance of the man who wielded the three gates.

They sat at a large dining table.

- "How's life, Whitley?"

- "Busy as always. Father entrusted me additional work regarding your mission to Vale."

- "Yeah. That he did."

- "I will be keeping in contact with you, providing additional information at the best of my ability."

- "And I'm expected to tell you about what is happening in Vale. There is not much to add there."

- "I suppose."

They continued to sit in silence.

- "Heard your sister left for Beacon."

- "I suppose it's not exactly news, but yes."

- "Did she make a scene?"

- "Well, if you can categorize her fight with an armored knight statue as a scene."

- "Barbaric, isn't it?" Ahriman said trying his best to imitate Whitley's voice without using cyber implants.

- "In her case, it was elegant at the same time. Will that be all? There is supposed to a second meeting this evening, and I have my studies."

- "Well, your thoughts on all this mess?"

Whitley sighed.

- "In all honesty, this situation was inevitable. With the amount of attacks on father's property, he would eventually resort to calling in the SDC's enforcer."

- "Is that what he calls me?"

- "No, but I think that is a proper title for you, considering your employment history."

- "You don't even know the half of it…" Ahriman muttered.

- "Anything else?"

- "Not exactly, just having a conversation." Ahriman looked around then back at Whitley. "So, there have been developments. Apparently, your father thinks of assigning me as your tutor, one of many words I hate."

Whitley raised his eyebrows.

- "A tutor? That is most unusual. You certainly know a lot, you've proven that… Speaking of, you are one of those rare people that father actually has some respect for."

- "Doesn't really mean anything to me." He paused. "Not much for you either, I wager."

Whitley smiled.

- "Regardless, I'm not exactly sure about what this is about. So far, I'm satisfied with my current arrangements."

"People would kill to have me as mentor in E.Y.E. You don't even know who you are talking with and that's the beauty."

- "To be fair, I'm not sure myself. There is a lot I could teach you, and don't roll your eyes, I'm talking beyond your regular leg breaking. But, I'm not exactly in this kind of business. I'm letting you know since it does concern you. Regardless of what your dad says, it's up to me first and you second."

- "Thank you, Ahriman."

Ahriman paused.

- "Remember that time I made fun of your math teacher?"

- "How could I forget? He is still asking how did you manage to solve twenty problems in your mind."

- "I did save you some free time that day… Look, if you get interested in something, anything – give me a call. Biology, electronics, psi-abilities, finance. " "With his trust issues – I doubt it. But who knows, might as well be paying more attention to him."

- "Thank you."

- "See you around."

- "Goodbye, Ahriman."

---

"Well, that happened."

Ahriman thought to himself, while sitting in a cafe near Atlas Academy. It was aroud two PM, and the cafe was half-empty. He was sitting behind a small table, in the corner of the cafe, away from windows and the sight of the famous Atlas Academy.

"This kingdom, always snowing. At least the architecture is nice."

Taking a sip from his tea, which was still hot, he proceeded to cut off a piece of his cheesecake. With an unhurried motion, he raised the hand with his fork and put the piece in his mouth.

It tasted nice. It wasn't something extraordinary, but it was tasty. And his mouth was still hot after the tea, which only helped to uncover the taste. Another bonus from his cyber body, no matter how hot was the drink, you wouldn't burn yourself. You wouldn't even feel uncomfortable, there was no pain in drinking hot liquids. Although, it is not encouraged to harm yourself by drinking acid. It could still do harm to your insides, even though not as much as in case of being a normal human. Every E.Y.E soldier was modified with messenger's genes, which granted faster reflexes and overall improvement in strength, agility and psi powers. It also sped up the tissue regeneration. It was useful especially for the members of the EYE, whose body was not full of cybernetics... yet. Genetic engineering allowed them surpass the capabilities of normal humans in all forms. Physical or psychological. Organism was no longer vulnerable to the intake of various combat drugs or any other substances. The genetic modification eliminated the possibilities of addiction or harm to the blood vessels or organs. The body was working like a mechanism. The subject felt less pain from injuries. It was perfect start before installing advanced cybertech, which would be upgraded through time, replacing most of the organic tissue with cyber implants and biotech.

"Still have to visit the general. Haven't seen him in person for a year."

Ahriman chewed the remains of his cheesecake and asked to bring the bill. After paying with his card, he took his coat and gloves. While putting on his gloves his eyes saw a figure of another waitress, she was carrying a plate with coffee and several small cakes. Eyeing her brown haired bob, and a nice figure from behind, he slowly buttoned his coat, waiting for her to turn around. After the waitress delivered her order, she turned around and her eyes met Ahriman's. A young oval face, probably around 20. Brown eyes and a small nose.

She turned her slightly-build body and continued looking at him. Ahriman smiled and started walking towards the exit. After making 4 steps he turned to the right and touched the entrance's handle.

- "Have a great day." He turned around, seeing that it was the waitress who wished that for him. She was holding a plate in both of her hands near her waist and was smiling.

- "Same goes for you."

He opened a door and meat a slow rain of snow drops.

"What a cute girl."

As the he felt the snowy wind touch his synthetic skin, he made his way towards Atlas Academy.

---

"You can do better." Ahriman thought to himself, sitting in Ironwood's chair. The room was large and there was a huge window behind the general's desk, through which he could observe the rest of the academy complex. Instead of bookshelves, walls had several paintings on them. The desk was metallic just as the drawers. It seemed that several holograms could appear and serve asan interface.

"Hardware is probably inside. I wonder if there is there's any alcohol in these drawers."

He heard the bell ring. In a minute Ironwood will be in his office, he had no more lessons today.

For a moment his thoughts returned to his reflections of how everything that he has been doing for the last three years was nothing compared to his days in E.Y.E. Killing random politicians was somewhat satisfying, but it couldn't compare to his missions for his mentor that Huan and him were doing.

Huan lo Pan and his mentor. Good times. He also remembered Dutch, loyal friend till the very end.

The door's handle turned and he saw Ironwood enter. He wasn't looking good, face looked downwards and was tired with bags under his eyes, accompanied by small flocks of grey hair in his temple areas. He looked up and saw Ahriman, with his legs crossed, sitting in his chair.

For a brief moment, Ironwood's hand rushed toward the holster inside his suit. Before reaching it, however, it stopped.

- "Ahriman, your presence in my office is... surprising to say the least." He said with a worried tone.

- "Surprising is that you still think that you can summon me on a whim."

- "You've received my message.' Ironwood started walking towards his chair.

- "Obviously." Ahriman replied as thoughts of killing the man in front of him started creeping inside his head. That would be easy. Extremely easy.

- "You could at least thank me for fabricating the evidence. The death of a council member is no joke."

- "I'm not an idiot. People are already forgetting it, and changing the bullet is not hard with right connections, or in your case, authority."

- "I did protect you from further investigation."

- "You protected yourself, I do not care what the police thinks of the case. If they recognized the bullets, questions about series of political assassinations from two years ago would appear, and officially, the culprit was found and put on trial. He even confessed."

- "Yes. A faunus terrorist, who turned himself in. Surprisingly, White Fang denied their responsibility or any kind of involvement." Ironwood said with a mocking voice, watching the door. He pressed a button on his display and the lock clicked."

Ahriman sighed. General just locked himself inside with him.

- "Cut to the point."

- "Very well. I require you to do something for the Kingdoms."

- "If it involves more covert ops with a team around Remnant - I'm not interested."

- "And I'm not asking you to, you've made your point loud and clear the last time we conversed."

- "It was not about the operations and you know it."

- "Right now, it is not. The kingdoms are in danger and I have a responsibility to the people. The responsibility that I bear, unlike you, who puts the kingdom's safety at risk just by walking around. Did you really have to kill the guy?"

- "Lots of people hate politicians, I'm merely the stone they throw."

- "Don't give me that. You most likely ripped off whoever hired you."

- "What makes you think I did not kill him by my own accord?"

- "Experience. Who hired you?"

- "You don't really expect me to answer that, do you?"

- "You are in my combat school, Ahriman. Best for you to be careful what you say."

Ahriman smiled.

- "Indeed. In your office, with a locked door. So tell me, what are your chances against me?"

Ironwood winced and instinctively reached for the panic security button. Yet, his finger stopped right before it. He sighed.

- "Not today. I still need your help. And this goes beyond the dead councilman."

- "You don't sound too sad for him either. And In this day and age, can you judge me for charging people extra?"

- "Even if I did you would not care."

Ironwood took the bottle out of his cabinet.

- "What are the details? Given the chance, you would be preaching for another hour."

- "Security consulting."

- "Are you mocking me right now?"

- "If only. What do you know about the Vytal Festival?"

- "I know what it is, is there anything actually important about it?"

Ignoring Ahriman's remarks, Ironwood continued.

- "This year's celebration will be hosted in Vale, the Amity Colosseum will be moved near the Beacon Academy, where many huntsmen and huntresses will participate in the tournament. And lately, as the time of celebration closes in, I'm growing more and more concerned about the safety of both students and civilians."

- "All of a sudden? It is held every two years, why would you be concerned now?"

Something was not right. Ahriman gazed inside of Ironwood's mind. It seemed that the general was cautious without even knowing the full capabilities of his companion. His aura was active and Ahriman found his psychic mind bumping into the small barrier of Ironwood's soul. He could overcome it, but it was too dangerous and unnecessary. He could read the current thoughts of people even with their aura active, unless it was exceptionally strong. To this day, he had yet to find one. By asking the right questions, answers will reveal themselves.

Scraps, many thoughts at once. Ahriman was a little surprised by the flow of Ironwoods consciousness. He managed to distinguish certain key words.

"Salem/Relics/Ozpin?/Danger/Safety?/Grimm/Terrorists/Army relocation...

"The hell are those? Army relocation? To another kingdom? The fuck are Salem and the Relics?"

- "The Vytal festival is a tradition of great importance for all Kingdoms. And tensions in Vale have been rising as of late. I don't want to endanger the civilian lives." The general said, pouring the drink.

"To endanger? You're talking like you are responsible for the citizens of Vale..."

- "And what about the Vale's police, or the headmaster of Beacon? I know the rest of the kingdoms have it hard with the whole 'regular military' thing, but they should be prepared for that kind of event."

- "With the latest Grimm incursions forces are spread very thin, there are not enough Huntsmen and Huntre-

- "I get it."

James glared at Ahriman with a raised eyebrow.

- "Do you really have to mock the brave people who protect others from the Grimm?"

- "Mocking them is a different matter. The name – I hate. Hunter sounds wrong. Huntsmen and huntresses too long and unnecessary."

Ironwood drowned the shot. After a short pause he tore his gaze from the glass.

- "Well, it has been a year... You haven't reconsidered, have you?"

- "Of course not. Besides, your special snowflake will kill you if I'm allowed to join. Would do something even worse for giving me a medal."

- "Winter doesn't have to know anything yet. Since your first confrontation a lot of things have changed, and if I my specialist had at least half of your abilities…"

- "Calling it a confrontation…"

Ironwood tried to empty his mind and skip another insult from Ahriman. Whatever he said in regards to his best specialist – he did not want to hear. He cursed the day he sent his team of specialists to fight this man.

His hand slowly reached towards the lower the large, crate-like drawer in his desk. After opening it, he pulled another glass out of it. Ahriman looked at the bottle of whiskey.

- "I expected better."

- "I keep good bottles at home, wouldn't waste them in flasks or keep them on academy's grounds. During work I have to mix it with coffee."

- "You are a mess."

Ahriman watched as general poured the drink into his glass again. Ahriman sat silent, waitng for his glass to be filled.

After Ironwood put his bottle aside, he said:

- "As I said before, a lot of things have changed. But sadly, many people didn't. My old friend is one of them. He is the current headmaster of Beacon, and is to be responsible for this year's celebrations of the Vytal Festival. But I feel that additional measures should be applied."

- "Throwing your own bunch into the pile?"

Ironwood went silent.

- "How many?"

- "How did you know?"

- "A guess? Ironwood, are you kidding me? During the times when my unit was still active, you had to keep it in a complete secrecy from the council. And the cross-border operations - you do realize that you are planning an invasion?"

- "It's not an invasion. The council approves of this action. Like myself, they are afraid of the tensions inside and outside of Vale's populated areas. And don't bring up your unit, the council would never approve of such operations, even if they were so successful. Protecting civilians is one thing, but counter-terrorist operations is another.

- "Pretty sure I did both. And if you took the whole fleet to that shit-stained Island that covers at least half of the current White Fang members and provides them with a good recruiting ground, we would not have a terrorist problem by now."

- "And what? Occupy another country?! There are innocent people that are just trying to get by. Civilians. Besides, that would only make things worse. The movement would just get more strength from it, not to mention the response from other councils. The Grimm activity sky rockets, and it would be even more difficult holding the island. Not to mention, their leader is an ex-member with his own history. Maybe if you actually stayed, things would be much easier. You left just before the final assault on their high leader headquarters, destroying months of hard earned intelligence!" Ironwood finally snapped and slammed the fists on the table, standing up.

- "Intelligence that I gained. You ruined the magic yourself. And after you insulted me, you should be thankful to be still alive." Ahriman said, drowning the shot.

- "Insulted you!? I offered you to stay in the military as an official. Offered you a damn medal, your own unit!"

- "To be your fucking bootlick?!" Now Ahriman stood. "Your army is shit Ironwood, your academy is shit, your specialists – are idiots. If you can't do anything on your own – I have no interest in sorting out your mess further."

For a moment Ironwood was ready to start a fight when he suddenly both of them eased up and sat back. For several seconds they just stared at each other with barely visible anger. Then, Ironwood refilled the drinks.

- "The army is good. We protect the people from the Grimm and we certainly don't have to be judged by someone with your standards. Or sink to the level of someone who is ready to start the second great war."

- "Just continue with your master plan on protecting Ozpin from his own incompetence."

- "I didn't say that he was incompetent."

- "But you don't think that he can provide the required level of security for the event."

- "He could, if the circumstances were the same as before. This time - I need you to ensure the safety of the Vytal Festival. You will cooperate with him on this subject. I will contact him and introduce you as a security consultant. Your task is to expose any threats that endanger the celebration. You will, of course, report of anything you will find, but other than that, you are free to act on your own accord."

- "It is not the first celebration that was held in Beacon, what are the circumstances that you mentioned?"

- "Do you know what is happening in Vale right now?"

- "Dust robberies and occasional White Fang? Shame that it seems so normal nowadays."

- "You do realize that Torchwick is most likely working for the White Fang? The amount of dust they stole is enough to supply a small army, provided they have equipment to make ammunition and explosives. And that is just in Vale."

"And guess where they make them. Which place has enough space to house a factory, has equipment and is far away from the prying eyes? Looks like my hideout near Mountain Glenn really needs my attention."

- "If you say so. Although 'with' is a better word. Someone like him wouldn't work with terrorists, unless something big is coming up and it is a life or death for him. Or something worse."

- "And that is what I'm talking about. That is why I'm bringing my army once the Vytal festival starts."

- "Army? In a month? Still can't believe that the council approved. So you want me to scout for any threats before you arrive? "

- "Yes and no. Like I said, you are free to act on your own as long as your report to me and do your job. As an employer - I will make decisions based on your reports. But knowing you - it will be easier to just point at the problem and let you do everything. I need to you to dispose of any potential threats, not just expose them to me. For that, I'm willing to hire you once again. And put a blind eye on your last case."

- "Once I'm done there won't be a reason to bring your army. But why? Shouldn't Vale deal with them? It is not exactly Atlas' problem."

Ahriman once again used his telepathy.

Endanger/Relics/People/Ozpin/Safety?/Maiden/Amber/Responsibility

He couldn't read any clear thoughts. So many at once, like a fountain coupled with small distortion that came from aura. And these words?

"What the hell? Are they keeping something in Vale?"

- "Ironwood." Ahriman frowned and looked at the general with a serious face. "What is actually at stake here?"

Ironwood's face changed a little.

- "People's lives. Like always. Different kingdoms have the same enemies. And it is responsibility of people like me to protect them. Something you would know if you were in my shoes."

- "You will give the 'responsibility talk' to your children. I make my own choices and know enough about consequences. Do not pretend to know me."

- "I don't, I know what I know which is why I called you. And right now, I'm making one of those choices. And I need you to make one too."

Ahriman didn't answer. He sat there, pretending to be deep in thought. Seconds later, he relied:

- "Alright. I'll help you out."

- "Excellent."

- "I won't say no to extra cash, and the weather is much better in Vale."

- "I will ready a Bull-extra cash?"

- "I will get there by myself." Ahriman rose from his chair. "After I charge the first half. You can go and make up the story for Ozpin."

- "Should've expected that. And the price?"

- "Two million."

- "What?! Are you serious?!"

- "Mobilizing and moving an army across Remnant will cost much more, maybe you won't even have to do it. I'm not even talking about the cost of those shitty airships. Hell, I bet those politicians spend more money on hookers."

- "And how am I going to explain the spending?"

- "They trust you, don't they? Especially after you 'closed' the assassination cases. If you care that much, you can hire me yourself. Shouldn't a person who is in charge of the military, academy and two council seats have that amount of money?

Ironwood sat in silence while Ahriman was putting on his gloves. As he began buttoning his coat, he heard a reply.

- "Fine. I will see what I can do."

- "Alright. I will contact you tomorrow, and provide you the necessary information. In the meantime, you can warn Ozpin that you're sending help, I take it he doesn't know about the relocation?"

- "Correct."

Ahriman's palm reached his forehead and he sank his fingers into his dermal sheath, rubbing it. There might be a scene later, and questions may arise. None of his concern, he reminded himself. A bunch of old men can say whatever they want to the general, as long as it was not about him. He made a mental note of looking through Beacon's staff list.

Old men? Yeah, he was certainly not young even for people from his time. Far from it, when most of your flesh is replaced, age stops worrying you as much as before. His dermal sheath would preserve his looks through years yet to come, making him look if he was still in his early thirties, depending on a person who looks. For a moment he wondered what was the life-spawn of an E.Y.E. operative. Supposed to last much, much longer than average humans, cybernetics and genetic engineering would keep his body fresh and powerful for many, many decades, provided he wouldn't die from unnatural causes. Hell, he was the living proof of it. Akmal, was even older – and he was a member of the Secreta since a long time ago by the historical standards. Necrocybermancy procedure also made sure that the life with such a high amount of cybernetics was the opposite of dangerous. It made a person the perfect cybernetic being and opened even more ways to get closer to the divine. The doors of immortality were already open and with the power of the mortal substitution – he was as close to it as he could get.

When he reached the door, he turned around.

- "And Ironwood?"

-"Yes, Ahriman?"
-"If it comes down to this - make sure you leave some forces in Atlas, before you come."

Closing the door after him, he started walking towards academy's exit, while avoiding janitors and wandering students.

---

"Moron."

Leaving the Academy's territory, Ahriman checked the time. He still had a little more than five hours until the meeting. Measuring the amount of time he will require to reach the Schnee Estate, he decided to spend some time somewhere nice and go other the details. He rembered that there was a great steakhouse near the center of the city. Taking the scroll that he modified, he opened the taxi app, and dialed the destination. On the road he decided to watch the news on the dustnet, after reading several articles about SDC, he decided to switch to culture segment. Before he could, however, read an article about youth talents, the cab has arrived.

As he entered the building, he noticed that they have made renovations. It looked different from what he remembered, they changed the lightning and switched table locations. Also - new walls. It looked nice.

After he gave his coat while avoiding showing weapon holsters under his suit, Ahriman was greeted by a smiling woman, who offered him a table. The restaurant looked busy, yet calm, with many well-dressed people discussing something at their tables. He, once again, felt glad that this place was rather expensive and there were no families with small children. The food was delicious, and the employees were pretty. But he felt like there was a reason for him coming here. Ahriman prepared himself for several hours of unhurried meal and calm plan-making, waiting for something to happen somewhere in the middle.

Choosing a large table in the smoking section, he felt cigar aroma when he was approaching his table. Smoke didn't bother him. Tobacco products do not present any danger for cyborgs that can filter toxins, and after all, he enjoyed an occasional smoke from time to time. The cyber brain appreciated those moments of nicotine relaxation, while nervous control and additional augumentations as well as parts of his cyber brain prevented unwanted addiction or harmful effects to any organs, which were either modified or replaced with bionics anyway.

After he ordered a beefsteak and red wine he started making mental notes while munching a white bread muffin.

" Hell, I'm actually considering it. A disciple and a mentor."

Yet, his mood was dampened by his conversation with the general. He soon returned to the same question he was asking himself for the last three and a half years.

That would be a gamble. And he remembered the one he lost before – his greatest failure.

He gritted his teeth remembering what happened all those years ago. It felt like centuries.

The artifact was not on Mars, even worse - the damn thing may not have existed at all. And the horrible truth sank in his mind completely only after shooting his mentor four times in the head with BK 444. With people that he called family dead, and friends and allies sacrificed for the cause.

But he didn't deny his guilt, he decided to accept what he had done, and live with it... eventually. Maybe Akmal will manage to sort out his mess.

These three years on Remnant were the most peaceful in his life. The Grimm or occasional firefights didn't matter to him. Was he really ready to trade this dream for an actual future?

"Guilt is a hungry animal, but acceptance is not a nice one."

He drank some wine and tried very hard not to think about it, switching the topic.

He remembered the upper class section of Vale and beautiful establishments. He had a hidden flat that was rather luxurious, he might as well spend several days there. After all, he didn't have to interact with Beacon's staff every day. And since Mountain Glenn was in Vale's territory, he did have several places available for him in the kingdom. He couldn't, after all, keep all his weapons near his ship in Mountain Glenn. Supply points and safehouses were important, he actually thought about incorporating the rocket packs that academy students used, but it was to possible to trace it, even with very basic surveillance in all four kingdoms.

While it was possible to trace and record phone calls as well as Scroll users, he theorized that it would take too many resources and manpower for the kingdoms. Even Atlas wouldn't be able to keep track of every citizen. Recording all information on them would simply be impossible for the providers, even if they were forced by the law.

He remembered how he utilized surveillance protocols to track terrorists while working with Ironwood and his team, comprised of regular soldiers drawn from other units.

"While I'm waiting, I might as well make use of my time and check info about people at Beacon."

But his mind went back to Whitley and the possibilities.

"So much potential. But for now, I should care more about my assignments. Work will keep my mind clear of too many speculations."

Ahriman heard the live music start. He took out his scroll, and typed several keywords into search engine.

"Beacon academy... there was a time when I didn't even use a scroll, now I just use a modified one. So, built around 80 years ago, several generations of hun- yada, yada."

" Whoever designed this place should be hanged, the amount of small towers is just unnecessary and impractical. Western part of Vale... They really need to name their cities differently.

"That's a large chunk of territory... anything on the news?"

Spending around five minutes flipping through recent news while eating freshly baked bread, he noticed the headmaster's name appear from time to time.

"Don't they use the color tradition? How old is this guy?"

He wanted to search for more detail, but saw his waiter arriving with a large steak, wine glass and a bottle.

- "Thank you, leave the menu."

- "Of course." The waiter nodded, and left after serving the meal and cutlery.

Feeling a fresh taste of his filet mignon, he chewed slowly. After swallowing the meat dribbled in sauce, he smiled. He took a sip of wine. Alcohol entered his body and his blood vessels.

Reconfiguring his bionic liver and cyber brain to not suppress the intoxication, he continued his meal.

In less than ten minutes, he had already finished, yet his body could use more nutrients, he felt his hunger unsatisfied and took a look at the menu.

After ordering another steak as well as more wine, he glanced at his scroll once again.

"So he is the third headmaster of this academy, but he has a strange look... Like if he is both young and old at the same time, and this hair color doesn't help. Aura effects, maybe? It is good for your body. Hm... What about the rest of the staff?"

He headed to the official website, looking at the list.

"What's this, why would they need history? Didn't they learn that in basic schools?

"So...Grimm studies."

He looked at the photo of a rather short man, with an impressive moustache.

"Professor Peter Port, a renowned hunts-don't care."

He skipped several other teachers.

"History, Grimm studies, dust studies, aren't they supposed to fight there? Oh, combat practice."

He came across a picture of an adult woman, with light blond hair that was assembled into a bun with the rest of hanging freely around her head. She wore glasses, and a top with a large cutout above her breast area. Ahriman also noticed the presence of a purple cape behind her.

He looked at the info part.

"Glynda Goodwitch... Graduated Beacon with Honours, under headmaster... Ozpin?" How old is this guy? They didn't show his age."

His mind recalled several words from his conversation with Ironwood.

"Relics... Salem? And what did he mean by maidens?"

His thoughts were, however, interrupted when someone approached him from behind, with several men in suits. Not wasting time for greetings, she sat in front of him with a deep frown on her face.

The attention from customers suddenly shifted to their table. After a moment, they continued their meals, with some of them looking at Ahriman's sudden companion and two bulky men in suits, standing close to the table.

The woman continued to drill Ahriman with her eyes, but received no response from him.

Ahriman flipped the menu's page. His gaze shifted to woman's face. He slowly turned his head looking at the backs of two men. They were even taller than Ahriman, who was around 6'4 himself, and was even taller in heavy armor.

"Probably someone else is near the entrance." Ahriman thought, noticing that the performance stopped. People around him tried very hard not to pay attention to the upcoming scene.

He looked at the white haired woman in front of him and calmly said.

- "Mrs. Schnee, this is quite a surprise."

- "I expected one of my husband's henchmen to look different."

- "Than I'm sorry to disappoint you. However, I don't work full time for him, so I doubt that I can be addressed the same way as your gorillas."

The men in question turned around revealing hardened faces and very athletic bodies. While Ahriman's real look was hidden under dermal sheath, the outlines of his cyber body mimicked those of a well-built athlete. Though Willow's bodyguards looked like heavy weight champions, fit to guard the wife of the SDC's proprietor.

Ahriman looked at them and gave a small smile.

- "But you do work for him. And I expect you to answer my questions."

Ahriman saw the waiter approaching with a bottle of wine. As he was about to refill his glass, Willow said:

- "Leave the bottle."

- "Did you ask Klein to recommend me this place so you could meet with me?"

Willow tasted the wine. Her expression loosened a bit.

- "Maybe."

- "He seemed too pleased when I told him I know this place when I was leaving your estate. And considering that your family prefers establishments that are more difficult to vis-"

- "So you spoke with Jacques."

Ahriman glared.

"So this is going to be one of 'those' talks."

- "I did."

- "And what exactly you were discussing?"

- "Nothing that would interest you. After all, you are not involved in any of his business affairs. For better or worse."

He smiled after spelling the last part. If she wanted to ruin his meal, he might as well ruin her day.

He looked at her. She was younger than Jacques but alcoholism and stress left its mark. Not on the outside though... Surpisingly, she was in a very good shape, considering her habits and age. He couldn't say that she was unattractive, she was the complete opposite, to say the least. However, after seeing photos of her before marrying Jacques, he considered her to be more of a shadow of her former, younger self. It was his first time meeting her in person, and he couldn't deny that a part of that young still remained in this more regal version of her. Or did she become cold after her years of marriage? He didn't really care.

"She didn't get the joke. Shame."

Disappointed, he stared at Willow while his face relaxing until it bore an expression of complete indifference.

- "My husband likes to boast about his achievements, I wonder how many people like you he has to do all the dirty work."

- "Was that an insult, or an actual question? Not to mention, what part of 'I work for your husband' you don't understand?" "Dirty work. Since when saving White Fang's hostages is considered a low thing to do?"

- "A rhetorical one, but like you said - I'm not a part of his business affairs. You are. And you are crossing the line."

- "You are not the first person to tell me that. How exactly?"

- "My children."

- "Good for you to have them."

- "Don't test me. I will not let my third child become a part of your schemes. My husband may consider them nothing but the next generation, but I will not allow them to be used as tools. Especially Whitley."

"Yeah, right."

- "I assure you, I merely spoke with him several times, nothing more."

- "And I'm supposed to believe that? I know your kind, you are a dirty rat that tries to get close to people and manipulate them in a way that benefits you. And now, you have chosen Whitley of all people. What did you tell him? If you are trying to use him to advance your place under my husband's favor - then I must disappoint you, it won't work. He does not seem to care about any of us anymore."

Ahriman let out a small laugh.

- "Oh. Thank you for the insight into your family matters that I didn't ask for. You must've had a previous experience with such people, otherwise you wouldn't throw insults in my face with so much confidence." Ahriman's jaws clenched and his face hardened.

Willow's face turned into a scowl outmatching Ahriman's.

- "Look, can we get this over with? I wanted to enjoy this peaceful atmosphere for at least one more hour, without alcoholics throwing a tantrum about their dysfunctional family."

He felt a strong hand landing on his shoulder.

- "We should probably speak outside, while Mrs. Schnee awaits a proper answer from you. And an apology"

Ahriman was facing a dilemma. Either intimidate them here or follow them and beat her bodyguards outside. Preferably without making much noise. Judging their thoughts - there was another one near the entrance awaiting them. But he was the only one with a gun.

- "Yes, we should also have a smoke, the second one said."

- "This is a smoking area, dumb fuck." Replied Ahriman, looking at him. He then looked back at Willow and forced a shit eating smile. "Very well, Mrs. Schnee, I will return to you after an exchange of courtesy with your escort." He spat.

-Approximately two minutes later, outside, near the back entrance-

As a person named Jerry was putting on his brass knuckles, two of his companions were dealing with Ahriman. One was holding him at gunpoint, and the other one searching him.

Just when the buffoon touched the holster under Ahriman's suit, he received a very fast punch in his Celiac Plexus. While the man's front press muscles were very well-developed, the punch from Ahriman's cyber hand made a man bend in half and helplessly gasp for a breath. Meanwhile, the person holding Ahriman at gunpoint tried to fire, only to find the safety switch of his gun on, despite him rechecking it. While he tried to pull the switch, that somehow didn't budge, Ahriman kicked the bent man in the face with his knee, effectively breaking the most of his skull bones.

As Jerry looked at his companion falling to the ground, he couldn't think of anything better then to run up to Ahriman, and try to punch him in the face with his knuckles. Catching his fist with his left hand, Ahriman tightened his grip around the palm, breaking attacker's hand and a weapon. Before the victim could cry in pain, the second hand grabbed his neck, and with ease, Ahriman pulled up Jerry in the air and tossed him into the companion who was still trying to arm his gun.

Approaching them with fast pace, Ahriman quickly punched both of them in their faces with his fists. He considered giving them several kicks in the belly with his leg beforehand, but decided to restrain himself. He did not want to cause too much damage.

Now that all three of his attackers were unconscious, he decided to look what they were carrying.

Only one of them had a gun. It seemed like the rest left their weapons in the car, so they wouldn't have to carry it in the restaurant.

"You make me look bad."

He took the gun. He recognized a small caliber pistol popular with both police and civilians alike.

Quickly unloading the magazine and pulling the slide to eject the remaining bullet, he threw the gun and the magazine into the trash can nearby.

Good thing that he had no finger prints.

As he approached the table, he met a surprised look from Willow, which soon turned into a mix of anger and fear.

"It is amazing how many emotions this woman can portray just by looking at you. Jacques really aimed high, I'll give him that."

He sat and looked at her with his left eyebrow slightly raised and his face unmoving. He noticed his waiter passing by.

- "Bill please. And also..." He lowered his tone making the waiter lower his head to hear him. "Could you please call an ambulance. The man outside is not feeling good." The PSI command echoed in the mind of the waiter, making him do exactly as Ahriman said.

- "Of course, do you require anyth-"

- "Don't worry, I'll stay with her." He shifted his gaze to Willow. As the waiter left, he asked:

- "What was the point of this?"

- "You have a nerve to ask? You really enjoy playing dumb don't you?"

- "Dumb? I'm not the one who's playing dumb here."

- "You dare to insult me even further?!"

- "I'm stating the facts. You have spent last decade in your own small world, interacting only with servants and booze. And now, you decided to intimidate me."

- "I was protecting the family"

- "More like a desperate attempt to reinforce your own status quo, if we can call it that."

- "You will not speak of me in that manner! You know nothing about my family or me! It is scum like you who-"

- "If you compare your husband to me, you must really hate him."

- "Is that so? Than pray tell me, with whom should I compare him?"

- "Yourself. Compared to him, you have no purpose in Schnee family."

Willow was now in a silent fury.

- "Comparing to him, you have done nothing for the family. Your children hate you, you play no role in your father's company and you are a completely foreign person for the media." Said Ahriman with a blank face. Yet the words hit Willow like nails.

- "And how come this is my fault?! Do you think I wanted this to turn out this way?! I loved him. My father liked him! And after years of marriage, after three children - he tells me that he married me only for the money.!"

Ahriman turned his face around for a moment, rolling his eyes. He was certainly not fit for a marriage counceling. He also didn't want to attract extra attention. Thankfully, the people around him tried their hardest to ignore the impending scene.

"Just…Stop talking..."

- "Was that the moment when both of you snapped?"

- "Both?" Asked Winter.

- "Look, not playing the devil's advocate here, but I'm pretty sure that he loved you. Just said that in the momentum? You've been married for more than twenty years and have three kids. You had to have some kind of connection before." Ahriman said, drinking the wine. "Unless he wanted a son, of course." He pointed out.

Surprisingly, that calmed Willow down, somewhat. She grabbed the glass and continued drinking.

- "He must've. I do remember him playing with Winter when he was younger. When I was younger…and everything was just so different."

- "Then he started changing, didn't he?" "Why am I doing this…"

- "I…Maybe running the company takes the tall, but to become so cold. "The once peaceful…"

She air quoted the word.

- "…White Fang did not help. The hell did they expect from the mining job? He pays everyone the same, wherever you are a human or a half-animal." She said, drinking.

- "Look, I don't really care-"

- "Cheap labor is meant to be cheap and not always safe. Could also blame the council for not making the necessary laws or enforcing them. But I have to say, he could give the old Nicholas a run for his money with that kind of business expansion…"

She drowned another glass.

- "May he rest in peace. What is with men in this family? The one before ran around the world long enough to die and leave the family while marrying me to someone who ruined it." Willow finished after him.

- "Change of generations. And you know that yours won't be in power forever. Since at least one of your daughters has inherited your attitude, and the other one is in her rebellious age, they are not exactly his favorite, I wager." Ahriman said, trying to change the subject back to the original and not just wipe her memory and be on his way.

- "They both did what they had to do, neither of them wanted to stay in this environment."

- "Their life choices are none of my business." Ahriman replied. "But now you know who remains - your only son. Jacques' only son, who has yet to disappoint his father. And I can't speak for the rest of your kids, but he is not really fond of you. Hated parents exit the scene first after the new generation steps in."

- "I guess…I'm also the one to blame for failing to raise him properly. Weiss was ten when I finally…"

- "Became...dependant?"

- "I don't need your pity. Addicted. I know. But that does not mean that I will just let you appear, and manipulate him to benefit you, not himself or my father's company."

Ahriman smiled sadly.

- "Wishful thinking. Tell me, if you hate your so much, would you feel better if the SDC was in ruins?"

Willow was once again surprised. Was that what she wanted? No it wasn't... Or was it? She had spent years hating her husband, maybe she really wanted to see him fall that badly? Was that her wish?

- "Hmm. That would mean the end of the world for you and your children too, I know. I can see where this comes from. Like I said before, you're lacking any form of control. It is indeed sad to be you."

He then took his glass of wine and drank a little from it.

- "But I want you to know that I'm not your enemy. Neither an enemy to your family or company."

A small pause ensued. Ahriman continued:

- "Honestly, Whitley is too smart to be manipulated. And I wouldn't want to corrupt the mind of a young boy. There are many attractive girls his age that would kill to be with him. Too bad for them, I guess."

- "Young love...I remember mine, it was beautiful. It is supposed to be. Doesn't mean you would not try to take advantage. I confess, I've seen you around before in the mansion. Just what kind of work you do for my husband if you actually met him in person?" Willow said, rolling wine in her glass, feeling more relaxed.

- "Most of the time making sure that no harm comes to the company. I am a security consultant." Ahriman sipped the wine from his glass. "Sometimes to your husband and son. Haven't met Weiss before. Saw Winter a couple of times somewhere else, can't remember." He lied. "Kind of reminds me of you. I'm going to bet that domino effect applies to your younger daughter."

- "The academy thing? At least she went against Jacques. Not sure if that was the right direction, though." Willow sighed. "She is as gentle as a flower. If it was not for Winter, she would also act like one. At least she won't have to serve, she can just return after four years."

- "You are worried about her."

- "Wouldn't any remotely responsible parent be? Still better than being married to some councilman's kid."

- "Married off? That is a bit too much. There are cases like that, but she is technically one of the heirs. And come on? Jacques Schnee, just giving away his daughter to some arrogant little shit to play around with for some shady partnership? He may as well take back his old family name. He did let her go to the academy. She still has her inheritance."

"For now."

Willow sighed deeply.

- "Ah… The worst thing is that I'm not even sure anymore how far will he go. I feel like I lost touch for the last years. Do you know anything about that?"

- "Look, Mrs. Schnee… From my experience…with others, it is best not to mix family and business." As he said that, the waiter brought the bill.

- "You are evading my question." Said Willow, taking a pack of cigarette tes from her purse.

- "I do. I know things about people. And even you, who distanced yourself from your children, know them. In a way, at least."

A sad smile, appeared on Willow's face. She took her glass of wine and drowned what remained of the wine in it.

- "It is Willow, actually. And you are?" she said with a cigarette in her mouth.

- "Ahriman." She did not notice when the hand with a lighter appeared in front of her. She looked at the eyes. Silver circles spinning around the irises, which had a very light blue color in them. Like if they were small lights. Ahriman lighted his own cigarette.

- "What is it you want from my son? Be honest with me."

- "Can you just consider it as a job from your husband? Your family members always make everything sound more complicated that it is. Working with corpos is one thing, but family issues coupled with business is embarrassing."

She sighed. "Ahriman, I said before that I don't need your pity. But you know how far my husband may go for my company. You yourself said that I have no control over things." She once again drank from her glass. "I know what my husband asked. Will you at least make sure that he turns out good? Not like my husband. It is the only thing I can do now, ask you as a mother."

Willow's face was now full of sorrow.

- "I'm just working with him. Maybe Klein told you something about our conversation and the one I had with Jacques. Whitley is damn smart. Time with his tutors brought results. He is sharp, cold and intelligent. I have nothing bad to say about your son. You should understand that I did a lot of jobs for SDC. Not all of them simple. Maybe that's why your husband wanted me available. I guess… it is a good thing you still care."

He did lots of work for SDC. While he never took sides and preferred to stay as a neutral party on Remnant, Ahriman sometimes needed to keep his head busy. He worked on SDC's security issues, went on missions, investigated people. He was far more than a simple enforcer and yet he preferred to keep his circle of employers as small as possible. Money problems could be solved just by doing something by himself alone. For now – SDC was enough, Atlas was something of an experience, something to remind him who he once was. Yet, compared to his time in E.Y.E it was just a child's play. His most important issue was not to let people know his own limits.

- "And I'm not thinking about accepting anything other than the regular job from your husband. And you can be sure that he cannot force me to do anything."

Willow relaxed, hearing these reassuring words.

- "I do still care about him…But, I think that not really that much as used too. Things are so different than they used to be."

- "True. Showing parental care by eliminating harmful influence will kill two birds with one stone. Though, I have to say, this conversation is even more surreal than the one I had with Jacques regarding that."

Willow laughed.

- " I'm a horrible mother, am I not?" She actually smiled as she inhaled more smoke.

- "And I'm a horrible person."

He gently took her palm with both of his hand. Willow felt embrace of a cold skin.

- "Willow, I'm not interested in ruining your family or company. Or taking advantage anyway."

His eyes shone with gold for a moment, signaling the partial use of the hypnotic gate.

She now looked at him with red eyes. Ahriman felt like he couldn't stay any longer. He hated when women cried and this situation was starting to bring bad memories.

- "Need me to walk you to your car?"

- "You have cold hands."

- "Come, let's go."

She could only comply.

They hastily exited the restaurant. Ahriman saw then lights of the ambulance shining not far.

- "I guess this is not what I expected…."

- "Can't blame you for that. Sometimes you must hear the right things." He said.

- "I also meant you winning against my bodyguards, but… Can I ask you for one last thing?"

Ahriman pulled the cigarette out of his mouth.

- "Are you sure?"

- "I need it. I want to feel like those years ago, just this once." They were standing there in their coats. It was already getting dark, the snow was falling on Ahriman's hair, as both looked at each other. Their faces were now closing.

- "Please." She whispered.

Ahriman was silent. The rings in his eyes slowed down and his breath came to a halt. The small blue lights went out, making his eyes look lifelessly grey. Just for a moment, they shined with gold light again.

- "No."

---

She did leave right after their conversation at the restaurant.

The next several hours were spent on going through the trade center from which Ahriman could call Klein to pick him up and return him to the mansion. Ahriman aimlessly wondered through rather well-designed floors, occasionally visiting stores that caught his glance. While exiting the store that sold scrolls he decided to visit the cinema.

It played a movie starring Spruce Willis. Something about huntsmen and a secret service. Ahriman's eye ran through the pamphlet. He still had time.

But the movie had yet to impress. Ahriman left somewhere in the middle, when couldn't take movie's plot. And the special effects were so-so.

He ended his thoughts on this experience with a throw of an empty beer bottle. Not even looking at a trash can that was five meters behind him. And yet he hit the spot. As he thought about other uses of his telekinetic powers, he checked the time. It was just the right time to call Klein, considering the time on the road.

- Scene break-

There were four people sitting in the large room, at the dinner table in the residence. There was Jacques, Whitley, Ahriman and a middle-aged woman who went by the name of Brenda. Ahriman has seen her before. She was an accountant, a very good accountant. When extra tax-free money was required, she was the one who organized the laundering and tax evasion. Again, nothing unfamiliar for Ahriman, who actually helped her out a few time. Same goes for this conversation. It was indeed a meeting. For the last fifteen minutes Jacques was rehearsing the details of the operation, information about Ahriman's contact in Vale and the support that will be provided, before Brenda arrived.

- "Bernard Brown." Ahriman looked at the paper file that had details about the director of the dust industrial complex that was close to Vale. Originally, every dust mining facility had its own director who reported to the regional manager. And they reported directly to Jacques and were the members of the board of directors. Barney was somewhat special.

Administiring largest dust mining complex on Sanus, that had monthly shipments of Dust delivered all around Vale, he had established the most efficient facility in the history of SDC. The small mine grew after they have found additional deposits of dust that could be mined for at least a decade further.

Now, it was the largest complex that held hundreds of workers and dust refining specialists. More than a dozen buildings and a lot of expensive equipment. It was starting to turn into a small town where workers lived and several chain businesses started appearing, establishing small shops and offering products.

The security issue however, had some history. With the increased terrorist attacks, better security was required. And kingdom's council tolerated that. But a year and a half ago or so, SDC started reforming its own security wing. Jacques' influence and some help from Ahriman and his hypnotic powers allowed them to employ military grade weapons that they themselves produced in association and for Atlas military. The factory now employed private security contractors that were under SDC's orders. Ironically, most of them are ex-soldiers from Atlas. They even had a 4-man team of hunters on payroll.

The base was off-limits to unauthorized personnel and SDC had mineral rights to the territory. They have dug in deeply.

- " Can we trust him?"

- "He is good. I've contacted him and explained the situation. He will provide logistical support as well as important commentary, if you require. However, the factory is the one which suffered from the attacks. Shipments have been stolen in the past months. Notably, the prototypes that were supposed to be delivered to the military. I expect you to prevent further incidents, should they continue during your assignment."

- "It says here that they also manufacture your robots there. And my responsibilities regarding Brown?"

- "You have none to him. Only make sure not to attract unwanted attention."

- "That also falls on his shoulders."

- "Other than that, you will be reporting directly to Whitley. He will relay all the necessary information to me."

Jacques looked at his son. Whitley looked determined. Ahriman just groaned in his mind.

"Family businessmen…"

- "I will, father. For the good of the company."

- "Barney is good, but I think he should not be concerned with some of the details of this operation. Plus, he has enough on his shoulders already."

- "Indeed. He knows the bare necessities. Our specialists have established a secure channel for you and Whitley, so he may contact you when required. The number will be provided."

- "Speaking of my assignment, we need to discuss the last detail."

Jacques took out a fancy pen and a small list of high quality paper. After scribbling something into it, he handed it to Ahriman face-down.

Ahriman looked at the number.

- "Can I take your pen for a second?"

Jacques raised his brow but handed Ahriman his pen with a small confusion visible on his face.

Ahriman took the pen. It wasn't particularly comfortable, but compensated with its looks. He paused for several seconds.

- "The lower number is for the optional objective?"

Jacques nodded in anticipation. He felt a cold in his stomach.

Ahriman continued to think for a second, then crossed out the first and the second line on the card and wrote his own number. After that, he handed it back to Jacques.

Jacques received it, and looked at it with a mixed expression of relief and annoyance at the same time. He turned his head towards the accountant and showed her the piece of paper.

She fixed her glasses and stared for several seconds. After that, she gave a slight nod. Jacques looked at Whitley, then at Ahriman. With a sigh, he said:

- "It is acceptable." He smiled. "Before you depart - a toast."

He rose his glass. So did Brenda and Whitley. Despite his age, Whitley still had wine in his glass.

- "For the future of this company!"

- "And Remnant. After all, SDC will be here for a long time." Said Ahriman, raising his glass and looking at Whitley. So did Jacques.

- Scene change-

They were walking on a road to the northern part of the estate, where the landing pad big enough for a bullhead was built. Instead of a bullhead, Ahriman saw a bigger and a faster dropship made for the transportation of both soldiers and cargo. He saw two men in vests holding assault rifles standing near the entrance of the ship. Once they saw Jacques, there was a visible surprise on their faces. They were dressed rather lightly, not warm enough for an endless winter that reigned in Atlas. Besides light vests, they were in desert camo pants and short-sleeved shirts as well as helmets with mics.

- "These men are contractors that are supposed to be in Vacuo tomorrow evening. The pilot will make a short stop in Vale and reunite with the rest of the reinforcements, that way you will be delivered without suspicions. Barney will handle the rest." Said Jacques.

- "Will look like a refueling. Smart. What's wrong in Vacuo?"

- "Everything, as usual. Fang's agitation drives some of the masses uneasy."

- "They do have a crowd there. Do I have to intervene later?"

Jacques raised his hands in a protest, smiling.

- "No. It's nothing our security can handle." He sighed. "Enough talk, commence operation."

With these words Jacques approached the armed men, who were at this point shivering from the cold and barked out several orders. He then looked at Ahriman.

- "Think about my offer."

Ahriman nodded and followed the two men inside.

Inside, there were two rows of seats as well as additional space for the equipment closer to the pilot's room.

- "You're the guy that we are supposed to take in, huh?" Said the bearded guy that was siting close to the ramp."

The man studied Ahriman for a second. Looking as his coat and gloves, as well as a tie.

- "You corporate?"

- "Not exactly."

- "Specialist?"

- "Nope."

- "Well, whoever you are, we don't have any seats left. Guess it will be a six-hour flight for you on your two. Unless you want to have some dirt on your coat."

The rest of the seated soldiers laughed.

Suddenly, the door to the pilot seats opened, and a uniformed pilot in a helmet walked in.

- "Okay, since our new passenger doesn't have the comm link, I'll be exp-"

His speech suddenly came to a halt when he saw Ahriman's face. The pilot was in a helmet, but Ahriman could see a familiar pair of eyes widen. He continued to stare at him for several seconds. The laughter died out. The pilot then adressed Ahriman.

- "There's a second seat available, I'm the only pilot right now. You can stay there ." He said. Ahriman followed him.

- Line Break-

Five minutes later, the ship was already in the air. Ascending above the clouds to escape the possible snow and rain.

- "So you work for the SDC now, Jack."

- "Yeah, after you left, my official contract was over, and there was no purpose staying in our unit." Said Jack, without his helmet on, so none of the passengers could hear their conversation if he accidentally pushed the talk button.

Jack was a young well-built man with short brown hair without a particular hairstyle. He had hazel eyes, attractive face and was considered to be very young to be in the military, being only 24 he already had 5 years of contract behind him, not to mention the training course.

- "Please don't tell me that you are blaming me. You were the one who enjoyed flying the ships with our team."

- "Well, many times it was just you. But yes, I did. I'm not sad though, life has been alright so far."

- "So how did you end up here?"

- "General helped out a bit. After the unit has been dissolved most of our guys returned to their branches. After I served until the end of my contract, Ironwood has offered to write a recommendation letter to SDC, who were actively recruiting. You don't have many pilots with as much experience as I have, so they accepted me. After 7 months, here I am."

- "Probably wanted to keep the tabs on you. Anything from the rest of the team?"

- "Maybe, I can understand his intentions. Nothing about the guys, we are not really in touch with each other after you left so suddenly. I heard some of them are on AD, but have been moved somewhere. Probably most of them will quit after receiving the bonus from the general.

- "Good for them. Would do the same thing. How's your sister by the way?"

Jack's face loosened a little.

- "She's fine, making a full recovery. I left her with my grandparents for now. They wouldn't be able to support her by myself so I'm sending them monthly payments."

- "What about prosthetics?"

- "The general have sent it for her."

- "That wasn't necessary for him. Guess he really values your commitment."

Jack didn't react to sarcasm.

- "I don't complain. I have a job, enough money for a decent life."

He paused.

- "And my family. Or what's left of it. Thanks to you."

- "Don't mention it."

Jack went silent, but then smiled.

- "Well, you asked how I was."

- "It is actually nice to see a familiar face once in a while. Might as well ask how their life has been after not seeing them for a year."

- "And there I was, just thanking you and reminding you of the old times."

- "Don't talk like a pog."

Jack laughed.

- "And one more thing."

- "Yes...commander?"

- "My stomach is a mix of alcohol right now. So could you please fly safe? Or it may end badly for the both of us." Joked Ahriman.

- "Don't worry - you know me. Besides, we are hitting the eighth mile, whatever weather is in Vale, it won't be a problem until we land."

- "The forecast says it will be raining. Heavily."

- "Too bad for your coat."

As Jack said his last line, both people in the cockpit were graced with a bright moonlight and a wonderful view.

Jack immediately put on his helmet while Ahriman continued to look at the sight through the windows. His cyber eyes disregarded the effects of moonlight, making it possible enjoy the view without squinting his eyes. He took several photos which he saved in his cyber brain.

As Jack continued to pilot the ship, they occasionally chatted about the news and other down to earth subjects and cracking jokes.

At the same time Ahriman was planning his first move regarding his two assignments and was wondering what kind of person the Barney guy was. The trip above the clouds and gentle, yet cold rays of the moon soothed his mood and very soon he found himself slipping into embrace of Hypnos on a surprisingly comfortable seat, for a pilot.

Yet even in his sleep, he had a nagging feeling that this trip will bring a large amount of change. Change that will alter the course of Remnant's history, and perhaps, his life.

- End of Prologue -

Remembrance: Truth That Binds

Neither to advance nor to retreat is being a breathing corpse. - The Gateless Gate

He sat there, in the center of the flying island. In the middle of somewhere. Or nowhere. The culter didn't know. Yet he remembered visiting this place many times before.

Yet at one moment, his mind started clearing up. After killing his counterpart once again, he returned to the starting point with the memories of his last cycle. It was at this point, he started noticing that everything seemed less real than before. Things made less sense. People acted like puppets following same routine. He was feeling deja vu, like he did the exact same things many times before.

Yet, there was no way he could interact with them besides his predetermined routes. He went berserk multiple times. Killing everyone he saw including himself, wasting life until his ressurrectors ran out, or putting lead into his own head.

And after that, he always met him. Each time, both he and the mysterious man muttered the same words. The man claimed to be a guide, telling him that he was still dreaming. The same man who stood at the gates with his mentor and his commander, asking the questions.

"Were you dreaming? Are you imagining this? Do you think there's some reality, some strange truth to this place? Have you followed the path well? Were you attentive during your journey?"

And so he started to pay attention. The recognizable characters started telling things that he recalled hearing before. Sometimes, they were small pieces of a large puzzle, fragments of his past. Showing him hints of who he really was. At some point, he was told to find the three artifacts. The three gates. Each gate was obtained after different-yet-the-same ending of his cycle, as he understood.

The Hypnotic Gate, the created from a man who must not be named and the wolf spirit, who merged with him. His own gate, and he was the result of merge. What was a result of the battle? Was it a battle in the first place?

The Triangular Gate, an ancient psi skill that existed since the creation of E.Y.E. The skill that his mentor taught him, who was taught by the ancient Akmal. How is it tied to the origins of E.Y.E? How was it learned in the first place?

The Substitution Gate, the one that he has spent years searching, the one that was delivered to him by an ally in a borrowed body, who has gone mad from learning the skill. In the real world. Or did he go mad after teaching him the skill? Was he the one who went insane, not the owner of the new body?

The real world. The pieces were assembled. All but one, he even started remembering some of his memories. The memories of his life as Rimanah, the commander that he has been killing each cycle. Like killing himself out of his guilt. And each mission was a reflection of his own past in a different order, with him viewing it from a perspective.

After convincing himself with his own gate that he was not the man who destroyed everything he had in search for the artifact, the gate backfired. His soul that already went through the procedure of necrocybermancy before, was plunged into his own realm of illusions. Still trying to deny who he was, he was forced to repeat the missions, each time loosing someone important to him, while being lost from the start. In a way though, he succeeded. He now suffered from the worst case of depersonalization.

After many trials and errors, he has obtained all three artifacts. The gate to the final frontier was open...once again.

It was not his first time talking with Circe. She only claimed that he visited her many times before, and each time he felt more hollow. Learning that he was trapped in a guilt-fueled delusion for eternity, doomed to repeat over and over, only to face an empty purgatory when your mind experiences a moment of clarity. How many times he despaired only to forget all this?

Many times he arrived to the very same place, speaking to the apparition of his dead wife. Or was she just an illusion, like everything else that he was experiencing? What was this place? The corner of his ill mind? The world beyond? The so-called final frontier? He had no answers, but only assumptions that he obtained by himself.

Yet, they were solid. He was Rimanah and his decisions and motivations that lead him here were his dark secret. Or maybe the secret was him repeating the cycles of guilt over and over?

Doesn't matter now. It was the final piece. And now he faced the choice. The Hobson's choice.

Return to the cycles, and try to find a way out. Was there really a way out? Maybe uniting his mentor's and commander's route?

Or pass the ultimate frontier. And find peace or horror beyond.

You only get to choose one, even though each choice was made many times before.

But what happens when the choices lead a person nowhere? Sitting on the island did not help him to leave the cycles, only to come to terms with himself and his fractured mind. Was this the way out?

So, like many times before - he broke the seal and tried to find a way to escape his prison. His residual self image growing more and more powerful, and his mind remembering more and more details and knowledge about the real world.

Yet, as his insight grew, he understood that there was no way out of the loop. To unite both his and his Mentor's path was not possible. And dozens of tries, the cycle itself started to deny him.

The illusions started to act hostile towards him, entire areas were breaking down. And soon he found that his world was becoming engulfed in a shadowy mist. It consumed entire areas, the only thing that walked with mist was a strangely familiar voice.

It was calling him, telling him to become one with it. Promising oblivion from the horror of his wrongdoings. It knew him well. Every time he saw it approaching, it whispered his own thoughts from every corner.

But despite all this, Rimanah has found something. Determination. It couldn't be called hope. He questioned himself every minute if he will be able to escape the cycles of his guilt and about his past. He knew that his chances were very slick, and that the answer to his struggles was yet to be found.

But he would not surrender to the despair or the damnable fog. He finished cycles with his memories intact, with his spite leading him. He was given a passage through the frontier. There was a way to escape. There had to be one. He didn't went to his own personal hell just plunge into the abyss. His real body was still alive, yet in the state of hypnosis that was worsened by the procedure of the necrocybermancy.

There was no way out of the loop, yes. But that possibly meant that there was no way out within the loop. It only left one place. Coincidentally, this place was untouched by the fog.

And so he was sitting there, in his standard light culter armor, Bear Killer right next to him with Damcoles drived into the ground within his hand's reach. He was staring at the seal with a tired face.

He didn't how for how long he was on this island. It was as if time moved in circles, yet, it was rather peaceful. Just him, his thoughts and slowly resurfacing memories.

He rose and looked around him.

- "Well, this is fine." Rimanah said out loud.

He pulled out his damocles from the ground and sliced the closest rock in two. There was a small flash and a familiar sound of dispersion field. Where once stood a rock were now two smaller parts of it.

He picked one in his left hand. And flipped it in the air. After it started falling, he caught it in his telekinetic grip. The rock now was holding still in the air right above his palm. A second later, he crushed it into pieces with his mind.

Rimanah slowly approached the second half of the rock. He picked it up and threw it in the distance. Around ten seconds later, it reappeared where he picked it.

- "Great, and what do I even make of this?"

He sighed and went back where he sat before, casting the shadow over the seal. He looked , as the sun shined brightly behind him.

- "Goddamn serpent." He kicked the seal with his leg.

Rimanah took a step back and picked his bear killer. He unlocked the cylinder. It had four bullets.

- "One way or another..." He said while aiming at the seal.

He pulled the trigger. With an ear-shattering gunshot, the bullet flew from the barrel at an insane velocity and pierced the solid material. The seal cracked into several pieces and fell down the portal that was now in Rimanah's sight.

- "...I'm getting off the ride."

He approached the portal. And turned around facing the hole with his back. His hands reached his helmet. Undoing the small locks that kept the helmet on his head, he slowly took it off and carefully put it on the ground.

Looking at his Bear Killer, Rimanah opened his mouth wide. He then pulled the revolver's hammer and tucked the gun as deep into his mouth as he could.

While 444 shell could pierce interceptor armor, just one headshot may not be enough for cyborg with advanced armored skeleton, for example – his mentor. So he did not want to take any chances. Aiming the barrel upward, Rimanah paused.

He raised his left hand and pulled it into a fist. After that, he extended his middle finger. A second later, Rimanah pulled the trigger.

As the bullet pierced his cyber brain, the lifeless body fell into the hole where the portal swallowed it whole.

...

...

...

- E.Y.E. OST: Dream Theme -

Rimanah woke up at the same place as countless times before. Looking at the sky, he could see both sun and the moon shining. Only, this time something was different.

He looked closely. The active gate had the moons shining upon the unknown ruins and strange pikes with unreadable runes, instead of the sun. And the part that intrigued him the most was that his mentor's body was nowhere to be found.

Rimanah got up from the ground. He noticed that he was still holding his Bear Killer and that he was missing his helmet.

- "Something has changed." He said as he unlocked the cylinder.

Two bullets still remaining, as if it mattered.

He looked around trying to find the body of his real self that was supposed to be lying somewhere nearby. Just when he turned around, his eye locked on to the second gate that was now standing under the bright sun.

The gate was active and shined with the same green light as the first one.

- "The gate of substitution..." Muttered Rimanah.

He started walking to the gate without a hurry, his gun still in his hand.

- "Aren't you supposed to appear, whoever you are?" He said out loud.

He turned around to once again see the familiar man in standard heavy Jian armor standing in the middle of a ruined road.

Rimanah approached him.

- "Ah, it seems that you are finally here." Said the Jian.

- "Just like many times before, only now, the place has changed." He looked around. "You've changed places."

- "The one who was here many times before was someone you convinced yourself to be. Not the one who you are really."

- "And now I know who I am."

- "Do you?"

- "Stop mocking me, I've spent enough time in this place only to do something that was completely meaningless."

- "No, I'm not mocking you. I'm merely a guide, not a cruel jester. And I have been trying to guide you to your salvation."

- "You've shown up occasionally, but-" Rimanah went silent. Realisation struck him. "...But it was me who was supposed to get out of the cycles, by remembering who I am."

The Jian was silent.

- "...And by accepting the truth, and my guilt."

- "The guilt is a hungry animal. And you've let it consume you." Said the Jian.

- "And the Hypnotic Gate backfired because of my PSI potential and necrocybermancy procedure."

- "And so you have been thrust into your own world, repeating the distorted past events not as yourself, but as a victim of your own machinations. Whatever the outcome was, the snake always bit its tail and the cycle began anew."

- "In the end, it was not pointless." Chuckled Rimanah. "I have made peace with myself, and have accepted my past..."

The Jian tilted his head.

- "Maybe, but are you really free from your guilt? And ready to accept your fate?"

- "My fate? Whatever it is, I will never be completely free from guilt, just like the consequences of my actions. I choose to bear them, without pride, but with remembrance. I will not let them consume me.

- "A fitting answer."

The mysterious man took a few steps and tuned back at the somewhat confused Rimanah.

- "Your fate will be decided by yourself. All the time you've spent in your world of bad dreams, was preparing you to once again be the person you are in the real world. Your power grew, finally being similar to the real you. Your insight grew, as well as your knowledge. And it is time to make the final choice."

Rimanah stared at him.

- "You stand before the two gates." The Jian raised his right hand, pointing at the gate that was under sun's gaze with his staff. "The first gate will lead you to the real world. You will wake up as the man you believe you are, and continue your life the way you see fit."

- "The man I think I am?"

The Jian raised his left hand, pointing his cane towards the second gate.

- "Or go through the second gate, leading to the world beyond. Your body will still live, for a while, but your spirit will leave the mortal plane. The future that awaits it will be determined by your consciousness. It is very possible that you will endure thousands of cycles once more, before reaching the eternal torment. After all, you said that you will never be free from your guilt."

After 'eternal torment' Rimanah started to feel even more uneasy.

- "But it is possible for your soul to find peace and rest. After all, yours will not be the first one to enter the plane. The state of your immortal existence will be determined by the state of your mind and soul."

- "Beyond... The triangular gate?" Said Rimanah remembering an old litany and an ancient technique. "The state of my mind and soul..."

He turned his head towards the gate. His eyes widened when he saw figures standing near it. The people he knew. His mentor, Huan, Dutch were standing there. Leading them, was a woman clad in white. In a hood and with a bandage on her eyes. The blood was still flowing.

- "This is the ultimate frontier. Before, you have spent your time neither advancing, nor retreating. But moving in a cirle. Or standing still in the limbo."

Rimanah remembered the island.

- "The second gate will only lead me back to my cycles. Not completely dead, nor alive, I will continue to struggle to find the nonexistent way out to the afterlife. Even when my real body dies, the soul will be stuck between two worlds for eternity."

- "That is a possibility."

- "But I could go deeper, fracture my mind even more with hypnosis. But in the end, it is Hobson's choice."

The Jian once again tilted his head.

- "Either take it, or leave everything as it is. If that's so, than why do you need to explain it to me? Why is there even a choice?"
- "I only act as a guide. You have chosen this world in the first place. You were unable to cope with your guilt, and your escapism have led you here. One way or another."

- "And now I can either continue biting my own tale, or I can wake up..." Rimanah looked back at the gate, only to find that the apparitions were gone. "You've finally started to reveal actual information."

- "Only the one you already knew."

Rimanah appended his palm to his face, slowly rubbing his dermal sheath.

- "Neither can I be stuck between two worlds for too long. My condition will only worsen."

- "You are free to choose your path."

- "Right." Mumbled Rimanah, as he started walking slowly towards the first gate.

Stopping after several meters, he said.

- "If I wasn't conflicted about it, there would not be a choice for me. But what was that fog that was consuming everything?"

- "You already know."

- "The transcended agents? The meta-streumonic force wanted to take other my mind?"

- "The conflict outside continues. It may not be visible here, but the dangers of the force are still present."

Rimanah took several steps back towards the man.

- "You. You were one of us? Do I know you?"

- "My identity is not important."

- "But you appeared in the dreams of others..."

- "Your dreams have shown you more than just distorted past. You have more insight that you had before. That is the power of the Great Psi."

- "Only it knows everything... And you have connection to it, more like... you represent it. Or a part of it."

- "I have no answers for this questions you have presented me. Only that you can yet reach the divine."

- "Then do you know about the artifact? Does it exist?"

- "Only that it was supposed to exist. Before or after the incident."

- "The first meta-streumonic war... No, the Elato Forest Incident. But that just leaves more questions."

- "And you have spent your life searching for answers to many questions that plagued your mind."

- "Indeed…And I've sacrificed everything and look where it got me." His eyes shined with the golden light as he drew several signs in the air with his hand. "The power of the gates…But it can't turn the time back. The artifact…I'm so tired." Rimanah felt as if he was ready to fall. With each passing moment, his body became more heavy. Was he ignoring all that before?

- "Everything you are used to, once done long enough, starts to seem natural, even though it might not be. You've spent a long time between the worlds."

Rimanah managed a small smile.

- "Codex Scientia. You were one of us, after all. And now I bid you farewell, my life is not over yet. But these questions... are too much."

- "It is up to a person to search for the answers."

- "But I cannot do this anymore. I've dealt enough damage. I…There is nothing left…"

- "There is always a choice. One or another. The possibilities fade only because of the mindset."

- "But to quit now would be the same as discarding all those sacrifices. Someone must continue my work."

Rimanah paused. The mysterious Jian continued to look at him through his expressionless mask.

- "I thank you for your guidance."

The Jian did not reply. Rimanah looked at him for several more moments and turned around, going to the gate. As he approached it, he gave one last look to this familiar place.

- "It is true that I killed my mentor..."

Rimanah stepped through the green light.

- "We must face the results of our guilt, wherever we know the reasons or not. Continue to the future you destroyed, tasting the ashes of our ruined past. Unless we move, we will not reach the end. Sometimes, returning to the beginnings that we already know can allow us to continue our path of sorrows."

The man paused.

- "But, sometimes, the snake bites its own tail..."