Chapter Twenty-Five: Alfred Jones and the Seven Sacrifices
A few of America's agents arrived at the mansion the next morning. They pulled up in black SUVs, wearing black suits and sunglasses with communication devices in their ears.
Germany met them in the front lawn. His room had been untouched by the fire so he was able to retrieve proper attire for the meeting. Korea had joked that going in his pajamas might put the agents at ease but Germany knew even a troupe of clowns would not make them relax.
Not only had Salem appeared on Earth and infiltrated AGATE's base— America's home— but she had attempted to infect Denmark with an unknown Grimm substance. His lost arm had apparently been burned in the flames, leaving them with no samples to study. Germany deeply wished that was not the case so they could at least try to figure out their enemy's intentions. Humans may think it morbid, but Denmark had already regenerated, thankfully with no black marks in sight.
So now Germany walked up to the frowning, tense agents whose fingers itched to retrieve their guns. He focused on the man in the front of the group, whose ID identified him as an agent of the Secret Service.
"Agent Tarleton." he greeted.
"Germany." Agent Jasper Tarleton replied. His blue eyes scanned the burnt siding of the mansion and he grimaced. "What do you know?"
"Salem became a Beowolf some distance from here and walked onto the property. Apparently she does not have a heartbeat or heat signature— at least not while possessing a Grimm— so Tony's sensors did not catch her. He is adjusting them accordingly."
The alien did not seem particularly bothered by recent events. He had vanished into his lab the moment it was safe to go back in and had not been seen since.
"Good." Tarleton said. He gestured to his agents and they spread out. "We have a team that'll be by to fix the place up. This isn't the first time it has almost burned down." His eyebrow rose. "I'd appreciate it if you did not incinerate the place while America is away."
Germany winced. "If you want us to find alternate lodgings we will."
"No." Tarleton interjected quickly. "No, that's not necessary. America would want you to stay here."
"Have you worked with him long?" Germany asked curiously.
Tarleton's expression softened slightly. "Almost twenty years now." His sight trailed over the blackened wall and he scowled. "Those sons of bitches. First they kidnap him, then they take his memory, and now they tried to take his home—" He seemed to recall who he was talking to and shook himself. "America doesn't deserve this."
Germany did not know what to say. He had to wonder how close this man was to America. He supposed that came with working with the nation for decades.
"Sir." An agent walked up to Tarleton. "A couple nations are standing guard outside a sealed room. They won't let us in."
Tarleton frowned questioningly at Germany.
Germany kept his expression blank. "There are cameras you can look through right next to the guards."
He pulled out his phone and brought up the feed of the makeshift cell. Denmark sat casually on the bed with Finland hovering close. As if he sensed he was being watched, he looked at the camera and waved with his good arm. His left arm was still regenerating, wrapped up in gauze.
"We created that room in case there happened to be a type of Grimm parasite." Germany explained. "Our paranoia paid off. Denmark was almost infected but China removed his limb before it could spread. We're keeping him in there until we're sure he's not a danger."
"I see." Tarleton nodded slowly and shot the agent a disapproving look. "Agent, please do not make me send you back to observance training."
The agent's ears reddened. "Yes, sir."
As he hurried away, Germany breathed a mental sigh of relief that the others thought to hide the soldier before the agents arrived. The soldier was one secret the government could not learn about yet. He hesitated and lowered his voice.
"Agent, since we are face to face, I have a request to make."
The agent's expression smoothed out and he raised an eyebrow.
Germany took his silence as an urge to continue. "Something new has come up. We need to meet with the President. We think the previous portals were not the first to bring natives of Remnant here." He kept it purposely vague, carefully studying the agent's expression.
The tension in his jaw suggested the man could read between the lines. Germany wondered how much he already knew about the unwanted visitors. "Agent Aster!"
Another agent looked up and jogged over to them. Germany took in blond hair and bright blue eyes and was starkly reminded of America. Despite himself, he found himself relaxing. It was probably the resemblance or the fact they were finally getting somewhere with the government but he found the agent's presence almost calming.
"Agent John Aster is my second-in-command." Tarleton explained briefly. When the agent halted in front of them, he turned to him. "Set up a meeting between AGATE and the President. Covertly."
The new Secret Service agent stiffened and he glanced at Germany suspiciously. "Why, sir?"
Germany kept his voice low. "We've discovered delicate information. The President needs to be informed." The implication that he could not say more lay heavy in the air.
Agent Aster hesitated visibly, but nodded. "Very well. I will set up a meeting."
XXXXXXX
America woke crying and had no idea why.
He hastily wiped a tear away and sat up, wincing as his stomach twinged. He recalled the events of last night and grimaced, but filed his own health worries away in favor of checking on Canada. His brother was wide awake. Purple shadows decorated his bloodshot, sunken violet eyes, and he stared at America with a distinctly haunted expression. Ren lay on Canada's other side, hand on his shoulder, and although he did not look as bedraggled as America's twin, his lips were pressed thin.
Violet and an exposed blue eye locked.
"How are you feeling?" They chorused.
America cracked a grin. "Jinx. We did the twin thing, Mattie. You owe me a soda."
Canada smiled weakly.
"Aren't you going to get up?" America asked, prodding him with his foot.
Canada smacked his ankle. "Give me a sec."
America smirked at him and turned to Penny. He touched her arm and her eyes snapped open. The normally vibrant green of her irises were dull, almost grey. America froze and held his breath as the color slowly returned to her eyes. She glanced left and right and sat up with a frown.
"I did not intend to go into sleep mode."
America grimaced. "I told you, you need your rest."
Penny nodded reluctantly. "My energy is being drained. I cannot locate the source of the issue." she paused and lowered her voice. "Have I informed you of this development before? I cannot locate the information in my databanks."
America's mouth went dry. "Um."
"Please discard that previous query as it is no longer relevant. I have located the memory files." Penny reported abruptly. She frowned at America. "Have your absent internal organs regenerated?"
America knew the answer without needing a spell. He pressed a hand to his side and winced. "No. How will this affect me?"
Penny's fingers twitched, revealing her distress. "You may suffer no side effects. Or you may experience breathing difficulties, heart attacks, or blood clots."
"Yay." America said sarcastically, ignoring his nausea.
He sat next to Canada and leaned against his brother's shoulder. Canada twitched but did not pull away. His every tense muscle screamed that he wanted to. America risked a glance at Canada's covered chest and his nausea returned tenfold. Before he could speak, Nora hurried through the entrance of the temple, but her weapon was at her back.
"Hey. Salem's creeps are lurking creepily." Nora reported. "They still can't get in."
"And they won't be able to." Ozpin assured them again. "I have more than enough power here to keep them at bay."
"How?" England asked suspiciously.
Ozpin paused but apparently got over his misgivings and answered surprisingly quickly. "This temple is built over one of the few remaining magic nexuses on Remnant."
"What's a magic nexus?" Ruby whispered to Weiss, who shrugged.
Nobody answered her, though England's eyebrows nearly met his hairline. "A magic nexus?" He raised his staff and frowned. "I cannot seem to access it."
"What do you mean?" Yang asked. "You did a spell yesterday."
"What's a magic nexus?" Ruby asked again, louder this time.
England took pity on her. "A magic nexus is a place saturated in powerful, concentrated magical energy." He paused, thinking how to explain. "Think of it as such: Instead of a thin mist of magic floating in the atmosphere, the magic gathers together in a concentrated lake or pool."
The description was enough for Ruby, for her eye went wide. "Whoa."
"So what was that about not being able to access it?" Yang repeated.
England's scowled at his staff. "I pulled no more magic from the atmosphere than usual. If this is a nexus, I should have much more power at my disposal."
"Not in this instance." Ozpin said. "Not now. As I said, these ruins are attuned to me. The nexus is as well."
The horrified look that flashed over England's face suggested that statement was a lot more important than America understood. England covered his alarm with is usual unimpressed stuffiness. "Hmph."
Golden eyes landed on America. "Speaking of the temple... Alfred, you and I need to deactivate some of the more dangerous defenses scattered throughout the ruins."
"Why?" Yang asked sharply.
"Because he has Vale's Aura." Ozpin explained patiently. "We created this place together long ago. Now only he and I can move through this temple without fear."
Vale shifted uneasily. Canada twitched and glanced sharply at America. His nostrils flared and his brow furrowed.
"Oh, isn't that convenient." England snarled.
Ozpin ignored him. "I'm afraid that the energies will also interfere with most technology. Ms. Penny should remain functional but it may be best to leave your Scrolls here unless you want them to be corrupted. How do I explain this?" He closed his eyes and paused to think. "Ah, I know. It is like what happens when certain electrical devices are left too close to a magnet."
"I could probably fix it." America mentioned.
"But you'd have to be there to make our Scrolls work. If you're not around they'd be useless." Weiss pointed out.
America nearly smacked his forehead. "Duh. You're right."
"Don't go." Vale blurted.
America hesitated. Is Ozpin telling the truth about the traps?
There was a pause. Was she thinking about what she wanted to say, or was the curse that kept her silent acting up? "There are traps."
Then why shouldn't I go?
Silence. America knew what that meant by now. What can you tell me?
"Not much. I have not been here since I was very young. The memory is fuzzy and I can't—"
"Alfred?"
America jumped and instinctively stepped away from Ozpin. He smiled awkwardly. "Sorry. I was just thinking about my track record of going places alone."
Ozpin frowned. "I will be with you."
America chuckled. "No offense to your strength and powers, Wizard Dude, but I think you underestimate how much of a trouble magnet I am."
"Indeed." Penny said. "Alfred F. Jones's rate of finding trouble has risen to seventy-nine percent, which is why I will be accompanying you on this mission."
"I'll go as well." Pyrrha offered before America could protest.
Ozpin's lips thinned. "That is not wise. The more people there are, the more likely one of the traps will be accidentally activated."
An idea struck America. Are they metal?
"Yes, there are metal traps." Vale said quickly, like she feared the words could be taken from her at any moment.
"Vale says some of the traps are metal." America reported. "Pyrrha can probably hold them back if there's an accident."
Penny's eyes narrowed. "I am accompanying you." she repeated. "I too will find ways to 'hold back' traps if they activate." Her weapons clicked, daring anyone to argue.
A heavy weight seemed to settle on Ozpin's shoulders and he sighed. "Very well."
"I'll come as well." England said, rising.
America felt his skin tingle. England stopped in place. He blinked twice, and for a moment America thought his eyes were glazed. England blinked again and his green irises were back to normal.
"Mister Kirkland, I think it might be better that you remain here with Matthew." Ozpin said. "I fear the magical energies could target him while we proceed with the deactivation sequences."
America had no idea what he meant, but apparently it was not complete malarkey because England had that pinched look on his face that he got when someone was right and he did not want to admit it. His green eyes flicked to Canada and America saw the bracing stiffness of his twin's shoulders. Canada was going to insist that England go with them out of some stupid self-sacrificial "I'm-less-important-than-you" crap. America ignored Vale's comment about hypocritical pots and kettles and nudged his older brother in the side.
"Arthur, relax. Watch over Mattie. I'll be—" He reconsidered his words. "You know what? I'm not going to say it."
England huffed and abruptly pulled him into a hug. America flinched but relaxed, a gentle tease on the tip of his tongue. Any thoughts of joking about his brother's uncharacteristic softness were discarded when England whispered in his ear.
"Ozpin is stronger than me in here. Be wary."
America swallowed and nodded with a painted-on grin. "Yes, mom. I promise not to wander off and fall into a spike pit."
England cuffed him lightly. "Git." He twitched and put a hand to his head.
America frowned. "Are you okay?"
"Fine." England lowered his hand. "The nexus is giving me a headache."
"Alfred." Ozpin interrupted. As he called America's name, he did not look at him, but out into the shadowy hall at the edge of their room. "We should begin. The traps become stronger with the rising sun."
Vale grunted.
America made a face. "Sounds fun."
He handed his Scroll to England, waved to Canada, and jogged over to Ozpin with Penny at his shoulder. Pyrrha kissed Jaune briefly, giving him her own Scroll, and followed, weapon in hand.
"We shall begin with the one in the main chamber." Ozpin said.
His hand flicked and the hallway lit up, illuminated by lamps that emitted a familiar green glow. America repressed a shudder. The hallway was creepily similar to the one in Vale's vault, only instead of marble, the ruins were made from weathered stone. The green-flamed lamps were the same, however. As were the endless shadows that plunged everything into near-darkness.
America's skin tingled, like he was standing too close to a lightning storm. He rubbed his arms as he walked and glanced around uncomfortably. "There's some type of magic in here, isn't there? Other than the natural nexus, I mean."
"Indeed." Ozpin confirmed.
"What kind?"
Ozpin hesitated. "Mine. As I previously said."
There was something he was not saying. It was as obvious as blood on snow. America shifted uncomfortably and glanced nervously at the walls. Pyrrha looked unsettled as well though she tried to hide it.
We can't go on like this, America realized. This mistrust has festered too long and it could get us killed at this point.
"Don't do it." Vale whispered, realizing what he was thinking.
Despite her plea, America's mind was made up. They had danced around the subject for too long, and it was beyond the point of sanity. He knew what he had to do: They had to confront Ozpin directly.
"Penny, Pyrrha?" he whispered their names and waited until they looked at him. "Watch my back."
He could see the question on Pyrrha's tongue before she realized what he was not saying. The two girls exchanged a glance before nodding silently. America smiled at their trust in him.
The smile vanished when they entered the main chamber. Like the rest of the temple, its stone walls were lined with the lamps with green flames. It did not have a single window or crack, blocking out even the slightest bit of natural light.
In the center of the room was a large stone altar. Runes covered its surface, written in a language America did not recognize. America could not spot any traps so he cautiously approached the altar, frowning at the strange basin below it. Was it supposed to catch water or something? But there were not any holes in the ceiling…
A glint of light caught his eye. Beside the altar, sitting in an elegantly-carved rack created just for it, was a knife. It was long and thin, almost graceful in its design, with odd runes carved into the blade. America could almost see someone like Weiss or Winter wielding it. Yet deep down, he knew they would never touch it. He studied the dagger and saw how it glinted in the harsh light cast by the flames. It shone brightly, unnaturally, as sharp and deadly as the day it was forged despite the years that passed since this temple was last used.
The dagger was not a blade meant for combat, but a very specific ritual.
America could feel Ozpin's gaze on his back.
He put two and two together, and his veins turned to ice. "We don't need to deactivate any traps."
Pyrrha tensed.
Penny's weapons shifted.
Ozpin was silent. His gaze stayed on America's back.
America swallowed hard. He turned so he could just see Ozpin out of the corner of his right eye, losing sight of the altar in exchange.
"People were sacrificed here, weren't they?"
Vale shuddered.
Ozpin avoided looking at the altar. "Yes." He emanated guilt like a cloak.
Realization was slow to dawn, and America desperately wished it had never come. "They were sacrificed for you."
Pyrrha gasped.
Ozpin flinched. His knuckles turned white. "The locals believed human sacrifices would increase my power."
"Did it?" America asked distantly. A part of him was screaming at him to run, but his thoughts had locked down, refusing to let him understand what was going on.
Ozpin's borrowed brown bangs covered his eyes. "...Yes. You… You need to understand, this was a different time. A darker time, when the Kingdoms had barely formed. Humanity was weak. The people were desperate. I was desperate. But… it worked." His fingers clenched around his cane. "I regained enough magical abilities to permanently protect this place from the Grimm. However, that protection proved to be useless against threats not linked to Salem. It worked until they turned on each other. It was one of the few times I was strong enough to withstand her."
America heard it then. The way Ozpin spoke. With sorrow, with remorse… but with an undeniable undercurrent of steel. It was the voice of someone filled with regret for something they were about to do, but knew they had no other choice.
Vale started sobbing. Other small sounds came from her, but it was as if she were trying to speak around a gag. America's heart pounded like a hummingbird's wings.
"This is what you were talking about when you mentioned 'immoral' methods to regain your powers." he comprehended.
"Yes." Ozpin confirmed, like he was bracing himself for something.
America knew what that 'something' was. Oh, how he wished he was ignorant. He wished he could say he expected this. He wished he had trusted his gut sooner. His hand hovered over the altar, not quite touching it and he took a shuddering breath.
"So." he whispered. "Should I just lay down on the altar or do you want to give me your prepared speech first?"
Pyrrha and Penny froze in place.
Ozpin went still. "Excuse me?" It was almost funny how genuine his surprise sounded.
America traced a rune on the sacrificial altar. "You were awake last night."
Ozpin did not have to ask him when. "Yes. I was."
America hummed and shoved his hands into his pockets, ignoring the click of Penny's weapons. "Were you hoping I'd die?"
"Of course not."
America smiled bitterly. "Of course not. Because if I died then no one could get the Relic of Choice. Silly me." And if I died, you wouldn't be able to— He turned around and leaned casually against the altar. "But then again, if Salem gets Choice you lose. So I think you're lying again."
"You think I want you dead?" America wished he could say that Ozpin's hurt expression was real. "Do you think so little of me?"
America shrugged. "I guess so. Fact is, you'd rather have me die than let Salem get Choice. In case you've forgotten, we're kind of trapped in here by her right now."
The pieces were coming together. He could feel Vale's terror. He could feel his heart beating, quick and frantic in sharp contrast to his facade of calm.
Ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum.
"I'd never stand by and allow you to—"
"After all, it was always an acceptable sacrifice if I died, as long as Vale's Aura was kept away from Cinder."
That shut Ozpin up.
America could not find the pettiness to preen in his minor victory. Instead he just felt tired and drained. "You know, I think you scare me more than Salem. It's because I don't know what you'll do. You could help me to 'save everyone', or you could hurt me to do the same. At least with her I know she'll stab me in the back."
Vale's terror stabbed at his mind. "What are you doing?!"
"You really have so little trust in me?" Ozpin whispered as if he had not planned this.
As if he had not led America to this room for a reason.
As if he had not tried to get America to go with him alone.
"You haven't really done much to inspire confidence." America said with deceptive lightness. "You withhold information, act shady, manipulate, and sometimes outright lie. My first view into your secret little conspiracy was you and your buddies leaning over me in a dark room. You weren't exactly giving me the image of benevolent saviors of Remnant. It was… terrifying. I was alone, outnumbered, and had no idea what you wanted from me. It turns out you wanted me to be willing to die." His fingers brushed the ancient altar. "I understand, though. I understand why you don't trust people and see them as varying amounts of expendable, even if you do not mean to."
"Alfred, I do not—"
America locked gazes with him. "Look me in the eye and tell me this: if Salem was in that doorway and Pyrrha offered to stay behind, would you leave her to die? If we were cornered with no hope of escape, would you consider shooting me to keep me out of her hands?" His heart was heavy and cold in his chest. "That's the reason why you stood behind me when the airship showed up. Is that right?"
Ozpin's eyes focused on him and flicked left for the briefest second.
America sat down on the altar that lay above the basin that had been filled with the blood of dozens of innocents, and stared unblinkingly at Ozpin. "Killing me here would replenish your magic, wouldn't it? That's why Vale is freaking out. We're over a magic nexus, and I'm a nation. Sounds like you'd get a pretty big boost from a sacrifice like that. I mean, the Kingdom's already doomed so why does the personification matter, right?"
Ozpin's knuckles cracked as his fingers clenched.
Pyrrha stepped closer to America. "Alfred, what are you—?"
America held up a hand to silence her. "It's okay, Pyrrha."
She sent him an uneasy look but did not interfere.
America kept his sights on Ozpin. His expression was blank. "You've been planning this."
Ozpin's neutral expression wavered. His gaze flicked down.
"Alfred—"
Vale, I've got this. "You have. You knew this place was here. You brought us here intentionally." America nodded to himself. "I'm not surprised. I'm already a sacrifice in your eyes. I've always been, ever since you found out I had a piece of Vale's Aura." He sighed, and touched the altar once more. "We're in the final stretch of your war, and I'm the last thing Salem needs to win. You'll kill me to keep her from getting me."
"Only as a last resort." Ozpin admitted softly, and a smarter person than America would already be running. "I do care for you, Alfred."
America appreciated his honesty, though he also knew what Ozpin did not say. "Not more than stopping Salem. Needs of the many and all that. Plus, defeating Salem is the only way to break your curse. A little extra power might help you a lot." His lips curled into a ghost of a bitter smile. "Who knows, maybe you'll get enough power to open the Vault yourself."
Ozpin's glowing golden eyes locked onto him. "You are correct. And if I have enough magic I might be able to save your brother."
America had a feeling such a claim was coming, but when it came he still froze.
Pyrrha's weapons flicked to her hands. "Ozpin, I don't know what you think you're doing but—"
Green light flared and Pyrrha and Penny slammed into the wall. The champion gasped but the robotic girl thrashed madly, struggling in the green light that surrounded her like a transparent cocoon. She could not escape her prison, however, nor could she use her weapons. Pyrrha's desperate struggles showed her predicament was the same.
America swallowed the lump in his throat. "You hid how much magical power you really had. Should've known." He raised his hands in surrender. "Please don't hurt them. I won't fight you."
Ozpin's expression almost looked pained. A layer of his mask had peeled away and America could now see the broken man he was. Here was a soul that fought for thousands of years and lost over and over, becoming desensitized to all the pain and deaths he ordered or indirectly caused. He regretted failing those people, yet he could not let that regret affect him. He had to see each sacrifice as a stepping stone to reach his goal, because if he believed otherwise, it meant those sacrifices were all meaningless.
Not only that, but this was the final battle. This was his final chance. There would be no more do-overs. And he was about to lose. His best nature did not matter, nor did his desire to be a beacon for good. Morality was sound in theory, but in a war of humanity versus potential extinction, some sacrifices had to be made. If Ozpin had not realized that long ago, he would not still fight now.
And he knew exactly what he was doing.
"Don't you dare give up for us." Pyrrha breathed. "We're NOT WORTH IT!"
America could not look at her. But I'm not worth it either.
"Please don't make this more difficult than it has to be, Alfred." Ozpin's voice was steady, and there was no conflict in his eyes. Not even from Oscar.
America's chest felt cold. "Oscar isn't aware at all, is he?"
Ozpin's gold eyes never wavered. "No."
"...You're slowly overriding his soul." America realized. "That's why you've been in control so much lately."
Ozpin closed his eyes briefly. "Yes."
It might be the most honest he had ever been with America. The nation might appreciate it if not for the grief that stabbed through his chest. It was not fully his own, but also Vale's. He realized she had always known what happened to Ozpin's 'reincarnations'. She had known, but could not say anything. There was no time to consider it now.
"Will an increase in your power help save him?" he asked, proud that his voice did not shake.
"No. I cannot prevent the assimilation. It is part of my curse. Oscar is beyond help unless Salem is defeated in time." Gold eyes flickered. "The same may be true for Matthew."
America looked at the altar and his heart pounded frantically in his chest. He knew Ozpin was manipulating him. He knew it. And yet he could not get the image of the black marks staining Canada's skin out of his head.
He's tricking you.
But what if he's telling the truth?
He's trying to kill you.
He's desperate.
He's trying to kill you.
There must be some truth in there—
He's trying to KILL YOU.
America could not differentiate between his own thoughts and Vale's. Despite the warm coat he wore, his arms felt cold. He crossed them over his chest, risking a glance at Pyrrha and Penny. The champion still thrashed, clearly unable to use her Semblance. Penny was unnaturally still. Had she deactivated?
"Alfred, listen to me." Pyrrha said, a desperate edge to her voice. "I know you want to help Matthew but you can't do it like this. Do you honestly think he would want this?"
America knew the answer, but he dare not say it with the two girls in Ozpin's magical grasp.
Seeing he would not— could not— respond, Pyrrha glared at her old Headmaster, tears in her green eyes as she strained against the magical prison that pinned her to the wall. "And you. You— You think you'll get away with this? Do you think we'll keep silent? That we won't tell his family what you've done? You won't be able to hide this from them."
"There is a reason the people do not remember the true history of this world, Ms. Nikos." Ozpin told her quietly.
Pyrrha realized what he was implying and her jaw clicked shut as furious tears swam in her eyes. "They won't accept your lies. They'll realize what you did. They'll realize you're a monster just as bad as Salem."
Ozpin did not spare her a glance. His golden gaze never left America. America felt faint, as if he could not take in enough oxygen. Ozpin's magic was heavy in the air, pressing down on him from all sides as it squeezed the air from his lungs. The intense look on Ozpin's face suggested that was intentional.
"How long have you been planning this?" America wheezed, desperate for any time he could give himself.
Surprisingly, Ozpin answered. "Since our airship crashed, and… more thoroughly after Salem appeared to you."
"Oh." America choked. "I guess that was a scary near-miss, huh? You almost lost your Vale and your war. Is that why you were so quiet for a while and kept staring at me? Thinking about murder?"
A muscle in Ozpin's jaw quivered.
"It is murder, you know." America continued. "Premeditated and all that." He laughed. It came out high-pitched and strained. "I-I… Is this real? Are you for real? I can't believe you. How can you think this is okay? And here I was, worried you'd murder Mattie."
"You need to understand, Alfred." Ozpin said in that solemn, compelling voice of his. "Salem is on our doorstep and we are outmatched. This may give us a chance. For you it may not matter, but it could save your family. JNPR, RWBY—"
Anger flared through America. "Oh, you're pulling that card? You can go fuc—"
He glanced at Pyrrha and Penny in their magic prisons and went silent, reconsidering his words. He belatedly realized that electricity had not flickered over his skin with his fury. In fact, he could not seem to reach Vale's powers at all.
Could Ozpin negate Semblances? Was that his Semblance? America forced his gaze away from Pyrrha and swallowed. He had to keep his head. Panicking or cussing out Ozpin would not help him or them.
Vale? Ideas?
She was too terrified to hear him. Her memories shoved at America's consciousness and he saw halls with green banners—
"So are you going to go full-on supervillain now?" America asked. "Are you going to kill me and all the witnesses?" Another high-pitched, strangled laugh burst out of him, tinged with hysteria. "What a joke. Pyrrha's right, you know. They'll figure it out. They're not stupid. If this is how you plan, no wonder Salem keeps beating—"
Green light surrounded him and his feet left the ground as Cobalt Striker was torn from his back. He experienced a brief, blissful moment of weightlessness before he landed hard on the altar. His back hit the stone with enough force that he felt his spine creak. Sadly, the rough drop did not break the altar and he lay on its pristine surface, unable to do more than wiggle frantically like a worm pinned to a fishing hook. Apparently immunity to paralyzing drugs did not extend to paralyzing spells. He distantly heard Cobalt Striker fall to the ground with a clatter and realized Pyrrha was screaming, shouting at the top of her lungs as she called for help.
"This isn't happening." Vale wheezed. "This isn't happening."
Her fear spiked and a familiar accented voice jabbed through America's mind. "—It is as we agreed, Vale. The Relic of Choice will be hidden beneath this Academy. Now, I will need you to activate your Aura while you hold this—"
"No."
Incredulous. "I beg your pardon?"
"I said no. I will have no part in your 'new solution.'"
"I'm sorry, Alfred, but I need this temple's power." Ozpin said as America struggled against the pull of the memory. "Salem has changed. She's evolved. She has three Relics, and her power has grown. Meanwhile, I've only grown weaker." He took a breath. "If you are— With you, I can regain the power I left here. That will give me a chance. My last chance."
The stone of the altar was icy cold to the touch and America shivered. Ozpin's magic pressed down on him, specifically his throat, just enough to make his vision blur as it urged him to give in. His chest heaved and he stared up at the soothing green flames flickering above him. He had to stay calm. Freaking out would not help him, Pyrrha, or Penny. Even if he screamed it would not matter. If Ozpin thought the others could hear them he would not do this here.
"I can put you to sleep." Ozpin said, almost as if to himself. "You won't feel a thing."
America glared at him. "Don't pretend you're being merciful." he rasped. "Don't pretend you'd do that for my benefit. You're a coward who can't bear to see the life drain from my eyes."
Ozpin did not deny it.
"I see why you and Ironwood were pals." America whispered. "You're just like each other."
Except Ironwood changed his ways in the end and acted with clear regret while Ozpin…
The unyielding— cold— look in his golden eyes said it all.
"No." Ozpin disagreed. "James is nothing like me. His mistakes will never compare to mine. He has not had to make the sacrifices I have. I… I will do what I must. The fate of Remnant depends on me."
—Disappointed, in a seemingly-benign way. "The fate of Remnant depends on this Vault, Vale. And yet you insist on sulking like a child?"
Not fooled. "Call it what you want. I will have no part in this."
"You're rather full of yourself, aren't you?" America breathed. "And here I thought I was egocentric. Shocking twist: You can't save the world alone, dumbass. And maybe if you stopped getting people killed you'd have some followers left to rely on."
Ozpin shook his head. "It is too late. I have chosen my path."
Toneless, calculating. "Are you certain you will not assist us willingly?"
Crisp, icy, firm. "I have made my choice."
Cold. "Very well. Guards, hold her down."
America forced the fragmented memory away in time to see Ozpin halt in front of the dagger, staring down at it. He was at America's right side— not in his blind spot— but in that moment America wished he was at his left so he would not be able to see him.
Although the magic pressed in around him and choked him, America did not fall asleep and he realized Ozpin's offer to render him unaware had been rescinded. Or perhaps Ozpin took his words to heart, and wanted him conscious so America could have the twisted dignity of not dying in his sleep.
Pyrrha began screaming for Jaune, for anyone to help. Penny was not moving. America and Vale's fear— both past and present— merged into one.
"You don't want to do this." he croaked.
Pleading. "Stop. You don't want to do this."
Remorseless. "Activate your Semblance. Now."
Pain. Pressure. It surrounded her head and slithered into her brain and crushed her skull. She fought it, she resisted it, but eventually the pain became too much and—
Was America crying or Vale?
Pleased. "Thank you for your cooperation. This would have been much easier if you simply obeyed your King."
Defiant, even with tear-filled eyes. "You're not my King. You'll never be my King. You murdered my King to wear his skin."
Anger, glowing green and gold as something shimmered with godlike light.
"YOU WILL NOT SPEAK ILL OF YOUR MASTER!"
Agony. Her tongue boiled. Her throat burned. Claws sank into her lungs and shredded them as they took her words away. She could not speak she could not think she could not breathe—
"I've already sacrificed thousands of lives." Ozpin said bitterly. "What is one more?"
Ozpin's fingers closed around the dagger and he lifted it from its stand. The movement was deft and practiced, with the ease of someone who had done this plenty of times. He was serene and certain in his decision, and in response America's skin went clammy and cold as Vale's nerves were set alight—
Pained screams. Choked sobs.
A gasp, filled with regret."What is this? What did I—? No. Vale, I didn't mean— Don't run!"
Terror, fleeing. Was that hands or magic that tried to hold him in place?
Ozpin's voice called after him. "Vale, come back! I can undo it. Vale, please it was not my intention to bind you— Guards, STOP HER! Vale, I promise I won't harm you again. I'm sorry. I'M SORRY!"
"I'm sorry, America." Ozpin said. "I've made my choice."
He lowered the dagger to America's chest, pointing it at his heart. It pricked his skin, and a drop of blood beaded at the dagger's tip. America saw it sink into the metal. Pyrrha was screaming, Penny was not moving, and Oscar was nowhere to be found in those remorseless golden eyes. America's own eyes stung with tears but he refused to look away from the golden gaze that had taken so much from him.
"You promised you wouldn't hurt me again."
Ozpin froze.
His eyes turned hazel.
Oscar stared at America with open confusion, and looked from him to the dagger in his hand. He flinched, jerking back, and the dagger fell to the ground with a metallic clatter. Oscar grabbed his head and fell to his knees, face twisted in pain.
"STOP IT!"
America made to rise only to realize Ozpin's magic was still keeping him pinned. Penny and Pyrrha remained trapped as well. Oscar's eyes snapped up to America, flashing gold. He squeezed them shut and shook his head wildly.
"NO! LEAVE THEM ALONE!"
Green light flickered. Pyrrha fell to the floor with a harsh thud. Penny collapsed lifelessly beside her, unmoving. America remained pinned to the altar, unable to rise. Oscar trembled, either from effort or fear and his fingers contorted as they pressed against his head. He crouched next to the altar and rocked back and forth, hands over his ears.
"I won't let you. I won't let you. I won't let you." he rambled, still rocking.
His teeth clenched, grating audibly, and the magic surrounding America wavered. He forced his muscles to work and lurched, falling off the altar. Again, Oscar's eyes snapped to him and his hands twitched.
"Cobalt." Oscar choked. "Please."
America had no idea what he wanted with the weapon. Handing him anything that could be used to cause harm was probably a terrible idea. And yet he snatched the bat off the ground and handed it to the struggling boy anyway, stepping back.
Oscar's flashing hazel eyes softened and he smiled briefly at him.
Then he grasped the bat in both hands and swung it at his own head. It collided with his forehead with a resounding crack, and flickering hazel-to-gold eyes slipped closed.
Oscar crumpled soundlessly to the floor, unconscious.
XXXXXXX
A/N: Welp, Ozpin's lost it.
For those wondering, the seven "sacrifices" are: America himself, Vale, Oscar, Pyrrha, Penny, the Warrior King, and Ozpin's last shreds of morality (and possibly sanity). Take from that what you will.
Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, etc!