"Schnee Dust Company actions threatened the integrity of the Onyx organization, succumbing to personal gain and corruption. Evidence of Faunus slave labor has been discovered by Field Agent "Frost" Schnee. All trade activities and support will cease as of Directive 26. Generation of new Dust will be accelerated at research facility Magenta. Predictions estimate the SDC to become obsolete within 41 days.
Preliminary research pointed out Winter Schnee as the possible mole within the SDC, playing off information about Company records regarding business with Onyx. Satellite images verified this."
Field Agent "Frost" Schnee calculated worst-case scenario: the complete and utter destruction of the Schnee Dust Company, including the loss of potential heirs and allies. Request pending."
It was said that the nature of a man could be determined from his actions. How he lived, how he died, how he treated others. General James Ironwood was not sure what that meant for a crook like Roman Torchwick. He bad read the files, heard the reports, spoken to the people. He knew about the difficult past with the Adamant Clan and how much lives had been lost because of that. Three-hundred lives lost, just like that. Snuffed out like candles. Torchwick had set them up and Adamant had pulled the plug. Nasty business. Had Ozpin not taken the Adamant in after that, he might have well faced criminal charges for what he had done.
Just what had transpired that day, nobody knew. That knowledge was limited to Adamant and Torchwick only and neither of them was willing to share it.
But that was alright. Ironwood did not care for solving that particular enigma today. He was too busy getting other important information out of his guest. He knew that Roman was not responsible for the terrorist attack on Vale. Neither was the other series of small-scale hotshots that Beacon's team LACG was chasing after like headless chickens. Someone else was out there, making plans to tear the Kingdoms apart. Why did his problems need to multiply like that? Onyx, the White Fang, all these people working for themselves with their own decisions…couldn't they see that they were threatening the peace? The unity that everyone had put years of hard work into?
If it was up to him, they'd all disappear in a dark pit. The Fang, those child soldiers, all of them to be put away in prison. Court martial the latter, prosecute the former. Done and dealt with
Unfortunately, it wasn't as simple. The Council of Atlas had given him permission to keep Torchwick in custody for as long as he wanted, but those others were still beyond his ability to control. He would take what he could get.
The General was not too busy pondering the nature of his problems to miss the sound of the doors opening behind him. He spun around and reached for his sidearm, but stopped his motion when he saw the dark, smooth armour and face-covering helmets.
"Onyx," he growled.
"General James Ironwood," one of them spoke with a heavy voice. The two of them looked identical except for a single stripe of colour on their shoulders. White on the left one, black on the right one. And they were armed. Heavily so. "We are here to take custody over your prisoner."
They cut straight to the chase, it appeared. Their subtlety was just like their voices: dead. As a General, he understood their purpose. Lack of empathy, devoid of or doubt or remorse. No PTSD or insubordination, just point and shoot. The perfect soldier. Only they were all wrong; they murdered and destroyed and in some cases even raped without hesitation, they were the perfect tools for crimes of war and they would never, ever fit into society.
He couldn't stand them. "Unlikely. The Council granted me the rights to keep him locked away for as long as necessary. Seeing how he doesn't say a word, that could be a long time."
"No," the one with the white stripe said, taking his right hand to his hips. James flinched and prepared to pull out his gun, but that wasn't necessary. A piece of paper was no threat to him. "We will take him with us now."
"Taking several public blows in media and being revealed as war-criminals must have hurt," James said, crossing his arms. "Going against the world's most powerful military might as well as the government it is loyal to? Big risk."
"Not really," the one with the black stripe said. "But today, we asked permission."
The General lowered his arms and watched as the soldier handed him the piece of paper. It looked awfully familiar. "What did you do?"
"Crippling the Atlas military to take one man will lower morale across the globe," the white-striped one said. "That's not useful. So we got the Council to give us permission."
"Which Council?" James demanded. The paper looked official enough, but…Onyx? Getting permission from official instances? Not possible.
"Take your pick. Atlas, Vacuo, Mistral. Not Vale, of course." A low chuckle followed. Sick humor. "Every Council on Remnant agreed on the prisoner-transfer."
"They did?" Ironwood demanded, scanning the paper for any sings of trickery or falsifications. "That's not possible."
"Subjective. General Ironwood, we would like our prisoner now."
James gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, but there was nothing he could do. The prints were genuine, the seal official. This group of war criminals had been favored above him. Why? What for? How long had they threatened those Councils to get what they wanted? "Very well…follow me."
This. He hated this. They got away with everything they did! But not for much longer. Even if it was the last thing he did, he would have them answer for their crimes. He was the leader of the world's most powerful military power and he would be damned before seeing them get away with this all.
But that would come. For now, he had to stay content with leading the two soldiers to his brig, where he still had Torchwick locked up. The deaths of three-hundred innocent men, women and children were on his hands and still James could not help but feel somewhat sorry for the man. Whatever Onyx wanted with a crook like him, it would not be pretty. It most likely involved interrogation, torture and another disappearance.
And there was nothing he could do to stop it.
The General pressed the button and opened the cell, revealing the smug face of his prisoner.
"General!" Roman said, not bothering to get up. "Back so soon?"
"You did this," James said as the two Onyx members stepped into view. Seeing Torchwick's expression shift from smugness to clear terror did something to him…and he wasn't sure he liked it. "If you had just been willing to work with me."
"Hello Torchwick," the one with the white stripes said with his deep voice. "Prisoner six-zero-seven-four. You're going to tell us everything you know about Subject Fall."
Who?
"No," Roman muttered, moving back against the wall, as far away from the Onyx troopers as possible. "You don't know her! She'll kill me if I talk-"
The one with the black stripes reached out and grabbed the convict by his throat, pulling him out of his cell without trouble. "You will talk, whether you want to or not." He then reached for his belt, where a series of needles were attached to a leather pocket.
Ironwood saw what the man was going to do and that crossed one of his most important rules; to treat prisoners fairly and with decency. He lunged forwards and attempted to snatch the needle out of the soldier's hand, but the other one grabbed him and easily pulled him back again.
Just like that, the one with the black stripes pushed the needle into Torchwick's neck and injected some clear liquid into his veins.
"Hey!" James shouted, jerking himself away from the soldier's grip. Roman went pale and sank through his knees. "What the hell was that! What are you doing?"
"Ensuring a smooth transfer. Bag and tag him, we're moving."
There was nothing he could do. He was forced to watch these two individuals drug up and then take away his prisoner; the only person who could tell him the true nature of the terrorist attacks on Vale without having to resort to illegal means.
These "men" would cause Remnant to die. They weren't focused on fighting the Grimm or maintaining peace, but they were focused on controlling the world and making it theirs. No more. Pressure they might be apply to exert, but their political support was over. Their scandal was out and now, they were vulnerable.
He would personally see to their destruction. One individual at a time, he would drag them out of the shadows into the light, where he could tear them apart for all to see.
Beacon Academy, 07:00.
It was a morning like most others to Professor Matt Adamant when he woke up. He disabled his clock using his Aura device, shook off the biting feelings of self-loathing and guild and got dressed. Stylishly. With a brown bowtie. The cool one.
So! A new, fresh day at Beacon Academy, in a city that was completely ravished by the Grimm, where the normal luxuries were now considered rare, where child soldiers ran amok and where other all decisions were made by foreign governments because their own government had been murdered to death. By an amok child soldier. Without luxuries.
At least he could just sit back and help his allies deal with this. Three-hundred lives was a lot to work with.
He brushed his teeth, gathered his stuff and went to visit his good colleague Headmaster Ozpin, who was probably receiving a good verbal thrashing at the hands of psychologists, politicians and…well, probably members of foreign Counsels.
Things weren't looking very good Beacon Academy. The buildings were still intact and the people were still alive, but recent events had pushed them straight towards a hole that they would never be able to climb out of. Anything could tip them over the edge now, so they had to proceed with the utmost delicacy.
Part of it was because they had been unable to protect Vale from the threats that sought its destruction. From a logical viewpoint, none of that was their vault. Either they were screwed over by Onyx, or people with the necessary skillset to cause a hell of a lot of trouble, or just by creatures that defied the laws of physics simply by existing. If the world was conspiring against them, what else could they do but reach for the biggest stick and swing it?
Of course it didn't work like that. For all the good things that they had done, it was the smaller things that they did wrong that always counted. And boy, had they done some things wrong. Most of that could be blamed on Onyx again, but it didn't take away from the fact that they had screwed up. Badly. Ozpin was lucky enough to still be headmaster after all of this. One child soldier running around was one thing, but Beacon offered sanctuary to a dementia-suffering messed-up boy whose PTSD was the least of his problems, a traumatized kid who was mentally eleven years old, a scarred Faunus who was completely in love with a member of the team that most likely despised him the most of the entire second-year department and a girl that had not talked for at least a week now. And that just the basics.
Professor Adamant made his way to the upper levels of the school, paying close attention to the rumors that he heard around him. He heard silly things, scary things, sad things and crazy things. He heard that Ozpin was conspiring with Onyx against mankind, or that Professor Goodwitch was the one who was planning to betray them. He heard tales of deceased family members, taken by the hordes of advancing Grimm, or tales of Operatives visiting people when they were asleep.
They did not make him feel very happy. Of course, reaching his happy place was a difficult thing to do lately. Oh well.
Ozpin's office wasn't that far away. Unfortunately, neither were the voices. Professor Adamant could hear people arguing from well a few meters away and what he heard, didn't make him feel happy. He tried not to listen to the conversation, but his curiosity had always had the better of him. Curiosity killed the Matt, as they always said. Waiting also didn't make him feel happy, but he knew when to concede. However, waiting while not trying to listen? Now that was a difficult thing to do.
But he was stronger than himself. Eventually, the voices died down somewhat and he was able to properly knock on the door. It took the Headmaster longer than usual to answer his call, but that was alright. The man was stressed out, stretched thin and another thing that was bad. Probably sleep-deprived too.
It was Professor Goodwitch who opened the door though, not the Headmaster himself.
"Matt Adamant," she said with a stern voice. "What…what can I do for you?"
She was so cute when she tried not to claw his face off. "Actually, I wanted to drop by and ask how you two were doing. The students are losing hope somewhat."
"Somewhat?"
"Not really. Somewhat implies that the loss would be trivial. The students are pretty much starting to suspect each other of bad things and evilness. It doesn't help that one of the star teams of the second year got taken out like that."
Glynda sighed and stepped aside. "Team CFVY is well within our capabilities to treat, Professor Adamant. They will recover."
"I don't doubt it. So how are you two?"
"I-"
"Within our capabilities to treat?"
She did not respond to that, strangely enough. Ozpin was sitting behind his desk, glancing at two different scrolls that he had placed on its surface. He wasn't paying attention.
"So what is our situation?" Professor Adamant then asked.
Professor Goodwitch looked away. "Not good enough. General Ironwood is not convinced of our ability to handle things here, but he has his own trouble back in Atlas. And Onyx…they changed their agenda. They stepped out into the full view of everybody and…as good as declared that they would take things over."
"Figures. That couldn't have gone over well."
She shook her head. "It didn't. But the civilian population is still trying to recover from the latest blows, what remains of our military power in other cities has combined with the VPD to try and keep the peace in and Onyx out. Other places have been hit too."
"Terrific. So all of Vale is rising up against Onyx?"
"In a way. Our governmental structure was crippled when Blackwood hit it, so the companies and organizations that once supported Onyx pulled out. Unfortunately, that…that group still has some sort of support within the other Kingdoms."
The Goodwitch looked very distraught. "What do you mean?"
"They have power, Matt. They have money, they have Dust…they have people. The three Operatives in Vale? They aren't the only ones. There are dozens of them out there, in all Kingdoms. Thousands of soldiers, thousands of vehicles. Enough to put Atlas to shame."
Alarmed, Professor Adamant took a step back and glared at Ozpin. "How do you know that? Who told you that?"
"Commander Yale did," Ozpin replied matter-of-factly, tapping a few buttons on one of his scrolls. "With Greystone breaking down, Yale became surprisingly friendly. It was the same with you, all those years ago. When the guild strikes, everything changes."
"Yes, well, your glasses are shifty."
"Thank you. I will have to ask you to refrain from making remarks in the future."
Oh, bad stuff. "Why? Is the stress that high?"
"Oh no, nothing like that. No, we have new visitors in Vale. Vacuo sends a division of military police, amongst others, to keep our invaders out."
His heart nearly skipped a beat. "I beg your pardon? Military whatnow?"
"Exactly that. They judged our relationship with a non-governmental military organization large enough to rival the SDC somewhat unhealthy and are now sending military police units to safeguard our citizens."
That made no sense. No sense at all. It was nonsense. "Yeah, like that worked so well in the past. Great." He turned away and placed his hands on his hips, looking for clever words to sound smart. It didn't really work. "Awesome." He straightened his bowtie. "Terrific." He relaxes the muscles in his shoulders and flexed his neck. "Fantastic." He ran out of words fast. "Fanciful."
Ozpin glanced at him skeptically. "Fanciful?"
Matt ran a hand through his hair and sat down on one of the chairs. "Rough night…am getting tired. So we're putting out a fire by throwing Dust on it until it goes away? Who else is going to grace us with their magnificent magnificence?"
"A psychiatrist."
Professor Adamant instantly jumped up from his chair and bolted for the nearest window, blowing it off its hinges with one swipe of his Aura device."
"Professor Adamant control yourself! She is not meant for you!"
With one leg and one arm already bungling out of the window opening, it took the Adamant all of his willpower not to go completely and become a splat on the ground. "Beg your pardon?"
"Get back inside and I will explain."
It was a trap. Such a trap. But he could play along for now. "Fine. Psychiatry?"
"Yes. With everything transpiring as it is, some of our students might need more psychological support than others. With a school psychiatrist, we might be able to reverse some of the issues you have seen yourself."
Matt returned to his chair and placed a hand on his chin. The right hand. He only had one chin. "That's a good idea. I admit that I've missed a lot these days. Care to sum up what happened in a few sentences?"
"Because you ask so nicely. Greystone hospitalized team CFVY and was subsequently captured by team RWBY before he could do any damage, fortunately. We took steps to prevent him from breaking out again. Apart from that, LACG is still hunting for someone that mister Mauve refers to as "Crimson", while Miss Adamant refers to that same individual as and I quote, "psycho-crazy-ass-scientist-woman". Between that and Onyx placing their influence in just about any case they can get, and Beacon being targeted by bureaucrats and politics, I would say that I really need a cup of coffee right now."
"Do you prefer yours jury-rigged or normally-rigged?"
"Without explosives. Your bill has arrived."
"I don't get paid."
"You do. You only owe us half of your money."
"Can I get you anything with that coffee?"
"Stay away from that psychiatrist and you will be fine. How are you holding up?"
Professor Adamant shrugged. "I've got a lovely form of distraction. I think that I will manage."
"Good. The lessons will start back up today…I do hope that you will refrain from getting into trouble."
"Well…someone has to keep Braunschweiger from ruining the kitchen, make sure that Johnson won't work someone into a coma again and prevent Professor Seraphim from finding out that her supposedly-deceased baby brother is now a full-fledged psychotic child soldier ready to murder on command. Tad busy."
"I see. And your assassin?"
Adamants did not blush. Their cheeks just filled up with blood whenever something embarrassing was mentioned. "Is currently finding telling her employer off."
"Very well. I want you to find Roman Torchwick and bring him here. I need to know who pushed him into ruining your team. It is imperative that we find out if that same person was responsible for the Breach."
"I don't think I want to know," Matt quietly replied. This subject was getting too sensitive for him…too problematic. His brain developed a fault. Not his fault. Only it was."
"I do wonder what causes that. On the other hand, talk to the psychiatrist. If it helps you, it helps us."
Professor Adamant took a deep breath and glanced at Professor Goodwitch. "What about you? How are you holding up?"
The woman crossed her arms and looked at him, her eyes devoid of that stern expression or judgement. "I am filled with anger and frustration, but I can manage. You on the other hand are spent. I need you on your best, Matt Adamant."
"Well then. I guess I'll go talk to team RWBY. See if they can't use some psychiatric support."
Someone told me that a fanfiction this size can scare of potential readers with its sheer size and that it would be smarter to cut it up into smaller pieces of I were to add a lot more. Which I plan to do. So, this chapter will mark the end of The Gray between Black and White, but the start of what I plan to be a trilogy. The next part will be called "The agony of freedom" and will be a direct sequel to this one.
Until then, it has been a good experience to write this fanfiction. I just wanted to thank everyone who read this fanfiction and made it to this point. I hope you will all return for the next part.
-MD21
