A Cancerous Intellect

Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host.
But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean.

-Maya Angelou

Everything was going according to the plan; Mistral was burning to the ground, and the Atlesian army was pushing closer and closer to the core of the city, where the last pocket of resistance was holding up. It was only a matter of time before the last kingdom falls and everything would be under his control. A few scraps of evidence and some newly "declassified" documents would be all he needed to strip all command from Ironwood and then the council would listen to him.

All Arthur Watts needed to do was to wait.

Walking through the corridors of the Mantle of Responsibility, he leisurely strolled with a single direction in mind. While he did enjoy watching and listening to the commands and stream of data that was coming in from the officers and monitors on the bridge, he had a much better view from his personal room onboard, not to mention his private reserve of brandy was waiting for him there.

Under his feet, he could feel the constant subtle vibrations of the Dust engines keeping the dreadnought flying in the air, the more violent rumbles of the cannons going off mixing with it. Arthur was in his own head, running plans and predicting what everyone will be doing; he did not notice someone turning the corner until they had run right into him. If Arthur was not so intent on keeping his public image in check, they would have been shot right then and there.

"Sorry, sir!" the ensign said while struggling to keep a large scroll in their hands.

"Be careful!" Arthur could not keep the ire out of his voice as he looked down at his lesser.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." They quickly moved around him and continued to jog down the hall where he had just walked from. Arthur watched them go, something about them seemed off, but there was a war going on. He decided that they were going to be the first to be fired when he took control. That ought to keep the peons in order. With that pleasant thought, he adjusted his coat, continued on his way to his personal room, and opened the door.

With a smile, he walked up to the large bay window that was overlooking the city. The orange glow was highlighting the ruined buildings and the flashes of gunfire was making the shadows dance from far below. He soaked in the sight before reaching over to a small table in front of the window and picked up the decanter of amber liquid. Pulling the glass stopper from the top, he took a moment to appreciate the aroma before pouring himself a portion in the waiting tumbler before putting it away.

Sipping on the expensive liquid, Arthur looked back on why he was in such a good mood to begin with. He just happened to be standing near the communications officer when a call came in from Weiss Schnee. She was talking about White Fang and how they were fighting each other, while he was sure Weiss did not know what was actually going on, he decided that she was no longer needed and gave the order to eliminate the Schnee sisters. Hazel would take care of Weiss while Arthur would take care of Winter himself. He was looking forward to that moment but for now, he enjoyed the view.

Behind him, he heard the door to his room open up. With a quick glance, he saw the good general himself walking in. While he would have been mad under normal circumstances, he was in such a good mood he decided to let it pass as he poured a second tumbler of brandy for him. "Ah, general. I know its a little early, but perhaps you would like to join me in a victory toast?" Turning to offer the crystal to the man, he stopped when he saw three soldiers in full uniform and weapons in their hands standing next to him. Around their arms, a black band marking them as part of his military police raised concerns for Arthur.

"Just what is going on here?"

"Arther Watts," James began, "You are under arrest for corruption, selling state secrets to the enemy of Atlas, conspiring against Atlas, and treason."

Carefully, Arthur place both tumblers down on the table, careful to not let his temper get the better of him. "And what evidence do you have of these crimes, Ironwood?" he asked. Arthur watched as James pulled a familiar brown and gold scroll and held it up to show. He felt his heart skip a beat as he quickly reached into his coat pocket to check his scroll, only to find it missing. That was his scroll, but how the hell did Ironwood get it? Opening it, the general began to scroll through its contents.

"Conversation logs with known terrorists, images of state secrets, modified documents and proof of bribery, not to mention these false records implementing myself and the rest of the council in crimes we didn't commit. And that's only the tip of the iceberg." Lowering the device, he could see the seriousness in his face as he put his hands behind his back. "Just what are you planning, Watts."

Arthur just stared at James. Everything had been ruined, the past ten years of work all thrown into a fire when it was so close to becoming complete. Something caught his eye, standing in the doorway behind the general and his entourage of escorts, the same woman who bumped into him earlier stared at him with a smirk on her face. He watched her form shimmer and her features change before his eyes. The typical pale skin of a native Atlesian darkened, sapphire eyes became rubies and chocolate hair became mint green.

He knew this woman, one of Cinder's lackeys, one of them that betrayed them. An experienced pickpocket if he remembered correctly. Emerald smirked at the man before extending a middle finger to him and turned her back, leaving him to his fate. His gut contorted and his eye twitched. Everything was undone because she managed to slip her hand into his coat pocket while he was distracted, just like that. His attention was pulled back to the general when he spoke again.

"That's fine. You do have a right to remain silent." With a nod from the man, the soldiers began to spread out around him. One of them began to put his weapon away and pull a pair of handcuffs out.

"We," Arthur began, "are a cancer and the only way for us to rid this world of it is through fire." He turned back and looked out the window at the war still raging, his hands slipping behind his back, accepting the restraints. "We squabble like children, fighting over crumbs while the world dies around us. This world doesn't need borders or counsels that never get anything done because they're too busy pointing fingers at each other. People blaming others for their own mistakes. Huntsmen who are too busy worrying about personal gain than to uphold their oaths. What this world needs, is a King!"

He flexed his hands, activating a ring on each finger and triggering the complex remote access system he had made with it. Every position of his fingers and how hard he tensed them was a code for the system to read, and he just activated an electronic blast to everything around him. The systems and sensors in the soldier's helmets all overloaded and exploded on their heads. Three bodies dropped to the ground in smoking heaps while his other hand moved into a position to disable his handcuffs. The same frequency interrupted cybernetics as well.

Arthur heard more than he saw James fall to the ground in a shout of pain as half his body fought against his brain. Casually dropping the cuffs to the floor, the doctor turned to face his rival, now twitching on the ground in pain. "I can only guess the pain you're in at the moment," he said as he leaned down to pick up one of the rifles that had dropped. "Like every nerve is on fire, I imagine. Luckily for you, it won't last much longer." Clicking the safety off, he loaded a round into the chamber and shouldered the weapon. Pointing it right at the head of the general, he gave one more smile.

"I really meant what I said about this world, James but sometimes, it's just better to start over from scratch."

He pulled the trigger.

Click.

He had braced himself for the recoil but nothing happened. Trying the trigger two more times with the same result, he lifted the weapon and pulled open the breach to see two bullets crammed next to each other, blocking the way.

"Now ain't that just a kick in the teeth,"

Looking up, the first thing Arthur saw was a fist flying right towards his face. Bashing against his nose, the punch knocked him back and he was blinded by tears threatening to leave his eyes and could not see the next three blows land against his face. He could taste his own blood on his tongue as he pushed himself back far enough to see his sudden assailant. Qrow Branwen stood between him and James, who was still struggling on the ground. "How you holding up, Jimmy?" the Huntsman asked.

"Hands!" The general's voice was strained with effort to just say a single word. He saw the pale red eyes drift down to where Arthur had his control system and back up to his face. Arthur knew he could never take on a fully trained Huntsman one on one, but he always had an ace up his sleeve. Flicking his wrist, he activated the shock touch feature and charged at him. He watched Qrow narrow his eyes and tilt his head a little, focusing on something but before Arthur could get to him, he felt his ankle roll out from under him when he stepped on the rifle he dropped when he was punched. Falling to the floor, he felt a foot stomp down on his wrist immediately.

Pinning him to the ground with one foot on his arm and the twin barrels of a shotgun sword, he watched as Qrow peeled the glove off his hand and crushed the delicate wiring and flexible circuits in one Aura enhanced hand. A groan of relief left James as he laid there for a moment before pushing himself up to the feet. "Well, I suppose I should count my blessings," the general said as he brushed the dirt off his uniform and stared down at Arthur. "Guess we'll be adding a few more counts of murder to your list." Arthur glared up from the ground where Qrow had him pinned, everything had gone to hell in such a short amount of time, he was still trying to wrap his head around it.

"You okay?" the Huntsman asked.

"Yes, luckily you managed to show up just in time."

"Yeah, lucky you."

Once the foot was removed, Arthur was only momentarily freed when they both grabbed his arms and lifted him to his feet. Pushed back towards the window, the doctor could do nothing with Qrow's weapon pointed right at his chest keeping him in place. Behind him, James pressed his finger to his ear and began to call for more military police to come and arrest him. His mind ran through a dozen different escape routes; one, in particular, was looking promising but he needed to time it perfectly. "What?!" He could see James's skin turn pale as his eyes widen while Qrow turned to see what was happening.

This was his chance.

As soon as Qrow began to move, Arthur grabbed the crystal decanter and threw it right at Qrow's face. The thick glass hit with a heavy thud and knocked him out of the way, giving Arthur a clear shot at James. A hidden, single-shot pistol hidden in his sleeve slid down his wrist and into the palm of his hand. Loaded in it was a special bullet that Tyrian helped him with that could bypass someone's Aura with a special mix of Dust and technology he crafted himself. He only had one chance at it, so he raised his-

Bang!

Arthur stumbled back as something connected with his chest. Looking down, he saw a hole in his jacket that was quickly filling with blood. The strangest part was the did not even feel any pain, just an uncomfortable wetness that was quickly spreading. Looking up from his wound, he saw James standing there with his weapon drawn and aimed at him. The dying man could not even comprehend how fast the general could have drawn his weapon in this scenario. A slight adjustment to the gun and the last thing that went through Arthur's mind was a large calibre bullet designed for Grimm that splattered his intellect all over the window.

James Ironwood stood with his weapon raised, a small trail of smoke coming from the barrel. He kept his weapon trained on the body of Watts for a few more seconds before letting out the breath he was holding and finally lowering his arm. The blood was seeping into the carpet and rolling down the window, painting everything behind it in a crimson filter. Looking down, he extended a hand to help his friend to his feet who was sporting a large bruise and bump on his temple now.

"Waste of a good brandy," Qrow said as he rubbed his new wound, "What was that all about?" In the heat of the moment, James had forgotten the news he had just received before pulling the trigger. Rushing to the window, he stepped over the corpse slumped under it and searched the horizon for an impossible thing that made his stomach drop. Past the city skyline, he saw it walked towards the core. Just as the ensign had described, it was the biggest fucking Grimm he had ever seen.

Taller than any of the buildings in the city, a turtle with a snake on its back rose out of the lake near the city and was currently on course to completely walk through it. In the night sky, he saw the pin-sized silhouettes of hundreds of Grimm flying around it. Like a disease, more Grimm fell off its flesh and began to charge towards the concentrated negative emotions that engulfed the entire city. "What the hell is that?" he heard Qrow whisper in awe at the sight of the monstrosity.

Jamming his finger into the earpiece, James contacted the bridge of his ship. "I want all weapons trained on that Grimm that just appeared, now! I want all air support rerouted and engaging with Grimm. All Bullheads are to pick up everyone who is evacuating regardless of affiliation. Open all channels to all forces on the ground; All Atlesian forces! This is a general retreat order! All forces are to return to the Dreadnaught, cease all offensive actions and fall back to designated zones for retrieval. Save anyone you can no matter what side they represent, this war is over!"

"But, sir"

"That's an order!" He shouted at the communications officer, who simply chimed off with a 'yes sir' and followed through with the command. At once, James watched as the fighters all broke formations and began to fly towards the Grimm, bombing runs were rerouted and Bullheads that were ferrying only injured were now being turned around to pick up everyone leaving. Looking down at the dead man at his feet, James began to feel a fire building inside of him.

Everything that had happened was because of him. How much has he covered up, how much truth had he twisted, and how many people did he had under his thumb? He could not even answer for his crimes now, all James had was a body, blood, and an entire Kingdom to protect. It was going to take him a long time to dig out the claws Arthur dug into his kingdom, but it was something that needed to be done. But for now, he needed to save as many people as he could.

"Will it be enough?" he heard Qrow ask.

"It's going to have to be." James did not know what else to do. "Why are you here, Qrow?" He turned to face the man while the world burned.

"Ozpin's making his move."

"Finally! What do you need me to do?"

"You already called off the war and are pulling your forces back. My sister is collecting the Relic from the vault right now and Ozpin is down there making sure our key players get out of there alive and move forward with the plan."

"Which is?"

Qrow was silent for a moment before shrugging. "You know Oz, he plays close to the chest,"

"I'm well aware of this, and it's infuriating," Qrow grunted in agreement as he pulled out his flask and sipped on its contents. "You trust your sister with the relic?"

"I don't trust her with many things, but she has just as much riding on this as we do." The scythe wielder then looked behind him, searching for something. "But, she is taking longer than expected."

"Do we need to send a team?"

"No, she's strong. Stronger than most, she can handle herself." The general did not miss how Qrow tapped at his flask with his ring, filling the quiet room with nervous ticking of metal on metal. All James could do now was to command from above and wait. It was moments like these when he missed his days of being an infantry sergeant and being down there to help with his own hand and weapons. All he had left to do was to wait and hope.

A/N: Happy holidays from the Angst Train!

This chapter was edited by StreetAngelJ

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