Part Two: Oscar

Atlas and Mantle were hard to look at. Oscar peeked over the pilot seats, thought about the pictures of the floating city he had seen in his books at the farm, but seeing the two cities brought a wave of aching nostalgia, and without Oz there to blame it on Oscar had to struggle. His eyes roved over the city, the towers of the academies, all the steam from the climate modifiers. It felt so good to see it, that all the working parts and pieces still held together after all these years - wait, what?

After landing in Mantle Oscar's eyes were constantly up: the news announcements and military orders, the warm brick glowing in the orange light of the heating units, neon signs that weren't here when the city was first constructed, he was surprised he didn't trip as his eyes tried to drink in everything. And always he looked up to the sky, the belly of Atlas. People made that, humanity made that!

But then the Grimm came, and Oscar had to take a breath - these were bigger Grimm than on the farm, but not as big as the ones on the train. He had handled himself on the train, he could handle himself here. He shifted his stance, adjusted his grip on the Long Memory, and it was like stepping into well-worn shoes, he knew exactly how far to run to build up a jump, how to twist, and exactly where to strike to break the spine of the beast. It dissolved into dust in seconds, and Oscar felt pride. He had done that! He'd taken out a Grimm on his own, no Oz!

Oh, there was a Grimm rightoverhisheadhowwas-

And it dissolved, too, and Ruby offered an encouraging smile.

But that didn't mean luck was on their side: they were arrested, shoved into a convoy, and driven up to the academy. Oscar knew the main courtyard, and the grand atrium. The halls had gotten new floors, the patterns were different. His eyes were drinking everything in again, and he knew they were heading to the headmaster's office. His back was straightening, and after the cuffs were removed he kept his hands behind his back, looking over the books, wondering where the tea set-he shook his head.

They covered a lot of ground, in that first meeting - Oscar watched the others as they reacted to the headmaster's plans. He wanted to share information with the world, reestablish communications, he wanted to be honest, and that made Oscar feel comfortable. "Trying to hide the truth from the world, will eventually kill us all."

Qrow was unconvinced: "Oz spent his whole life - many lives - keeping this secret."

Oscar looked down.

"I know. But since Beacon, things have changed. Without him here to guide us, all I can do is use my best judgement."

Oscar winced, turning to hide it and touching an arm. They would have to tell him, tell him about the wizard living in his head, and then why he was hiding… The headmaster turned around, already picking up on something.

"What is it?" he asked.

Oscar took a breath, turned to face the headmaster. "Actually," he said, "Oz isn't completely gone." Please be enough, don't make him explain it all…

"Oscar is," Qrow said quickly, "he's the next Ozpin."

Oscar watched the headmaster's face, saw the suspicion change almost immediately to surprise and then hope. "Oz…?" He moved in quickly, tall and broad and was he going to get hit again, but the big man crouched down, still talking, "I'm so glad you're here I didn't think-" Oscar hunched up at the advance, was quick to fix the mistake as soon as possible.

"Not quite," he said quickly, and the headmaster stopped. "He's kind of… gone? At the moment?" He held his breath, afraid of how such a big man would react.

"... that's not normal," was the response, "How did he-"

"We don't know," Ruby said.

Oscar held himself very, very still.

"We were in a train crash, and ever since, well, suddenly Oz wasn't there anymore."

Did she just… why did she just… Oscar held his mouth closed, bit the inside of his cheek, watched the headmaster sigh all the way down.

"That's the worst news yet."

And then Ruby lied again, when he asked about the relics, and wasn't this just like Oz? Oscar held his breath, uncertain what to do, afraid to say anything.

"... At least we have you, Oscar. You're safe here in Atlas. Maybe together we can find a way to bring Ozpin back."

And if he didn't want Ozpin back…?

He forced himself to smile. "Thank you sir," he said, but the word tasted bad in his mouth. What was he supposed to say? "Uh, general." There's no need for formality among friends, the memory drifted through Oscar's ears, and he was even more confused. "... Ironwood?"

He still wasn't quite sure how he made it through the conversation, or the exploration of the Academy - after hours - and he found it harder and harder to keep from telling the new girl, Penny, that everything she said sounded like he was hearing it for both the first and previous time. Deja vu, that was the phrase: experiencing something for the first time while simultaneously feeling like one had seen it all before. He felt uncomfortable, and every time he looked at Ruby he could only think of the lies she told. It hurt, a little. After all that work to drag the truth out of Ozpin, and the price they paid for it (and the relief Oscar felt for it), why did they turn around and lie to Ironwood?

He looked for her the next day, agreed to take the relic, but… "Ruby, hiding things from Ironwood… doesn't that feel like what Ozpin did to us?"

She looked down. "I know…" she said. "I'm thinking that, too."

Oscar blinked. "Then why…?"

"It's just… The embargo and the closed borders - it might have been a mistake arresting us but his orders weren't to find out what happened, it was to arrest on sight. His presence is all over Mantle and things aren't really good down there and… He's saying all the right words, he gave us back the relic, but…" She looked up, her silver eyes holding his gaze. "... I don't want to make a mistake," she said.

And… Oscar understood. Mostly. Kind of. He shifted his weight, one foot to the next. "I don't like it," he confessed, "But you're not wrong. I won't say anything."

"Okay."

"And if I do," he added, "I'll tell you, first."

She smiled. "Me, too." A natural pause drew out, Oscar taking the lamp and attaching it to his tool belt. They parted ways with a nod, and Oscar went to the training rooms. If RWBY and JNR were going to the mines, then Oscar better use his time to train.

It was always a treat to watch RWBY and JNR train, Oscar still marveled that they were together for little more than a year, they moved together so fluidly, could change tactics with little more than a word or a look, and they complimented each other well. It only took the better part of a day to get used to the modifications they'd made to their weapons, and then they were spending the afternoon in pairs working out new attacks. Jaune was working as hard as he could on his aura, and Nora was gleefully getting comfortable with riding her weapon around the space, Ren meditating to work on… something. Oscar trained, too: running around the course, building up stamina in his body, trying to figure out the muscle memory he just… inherited. His height was a huge disadvantage, his body was used to longer legs, further reach, and he had to unlearn things he never learned in order to do them correctly. The others noted that he was learning at an amazing rate, but he was still so far behind, it felt like. It was everything he could do to catch up, and he was always left a little breathless when, after hours in the training room, the others talked about going out dancing and all he wanted to do was crawl to bed.

The teens were off doing missions almost daily, leaving Oscar to his own devices. Mostly he tried to train, but it wasn't long before he got a message from Ironwood.

"I've heard about how hard you're working," he said from his desk at the headmaster's office. Oscar still wondered where the tea set was.

"I have a lot of catching up to do," he said, looking down. "Without Oz, I have to fight for myself. It was something he told me to do…" he trailed off, uncertain what else to say. He was never comfortable with other people at first, it always took a while to feel confident.

"That sounds like him," Ironwood said, voice almost a chuckle. "He always made a show of telling students he wasn't going to help them, that they had to figure it out for themselves."

Oscar looked up. "... Really?"

"Yes," Ironwood said, standing up from his seat, arms automatically folding behind his back. "What he never said was that the environment he put them in were safe places - whatever Grimm existed were never too dangerous, and if things got bad any number of teachers or other failsafes would activate to make sure no one got hurt. His bluster had no bite, he was soft on students. Come on, I want to offer something."

He left the office and Oscar followed, mulling over what Ironwood said about Oz. He couldn't place it at first, until he reworded the information. Boundaries. Children developed their best when they understood the boundaries. That was a quote, wasn't it? Yes… Yes! From an old parenting book he'd found in his aunt's bedroom. It must have been back when she first took Oscar home, something about play and boundaries… he couldn't remember the full passage, but that certainly sounded like Oz - the gentle nudges to his hands during the crash, and before that the training in Mistral. Letting Oscar do it himself, helping only when he needed to.

"How long has Ozpin been with you?" Ironwood asked.

"I think, I started noticing something was wrong at the end of autumn," Oscar said. "But it wasn't until spring that he, uh, introduced himself."

"He explained his reincarnations, of course," Ironwood said, "but he never really talked about them. He only really said that they were a strain on everyone involved. But he never mentioned an incarnation completely disappearing. Did he tell you anything while he was with you?"

"We… didn't really talk about past incarnations," Oscar said, looking down. "I was more worried about… about mine."

"I suppose that's natural," Ironwood said, a hint of something in his voice. They reached a keypad, Ironwood holding his hand up and making a small gesture before the light pinged. "Well, you might not hear Ozpin anymore, Oscar, but that doesn't mean we can't try and jog him loose."

They were in the training room. What…?

"What did you have in mind?"

Ironwood smiled, spread his feet, and took a fighting stance.

Training? Wait… training with a headmaster?

Oscar grinned, and he extended his cane. This was probably the best way to catch up to the others.

For three days, Oscar would be called to the headmaster's office, escorted to the training room, and then be beaten within an inch of his life. Ironwood was a hard teacher, he pulled no punches whatsoever, and only barely gave Oscar time to recover. Each round ended with the headmaster adjusting Oscar's footing or posture. It helped in some ways, the things Oscar could do in a fight felt more natural, but it was hard in others, because he was so far behind.

The general looked like he was struggling, too, a frown on his face by the end of every training session.

"Nothing yet?" he asked, Oscar panting on the floor.

He shook his head.

Ironwood rubbed his chin, hairs on his beard shifting around his fingers. "Let's try something else," he said, giving a hand out for Oscar to get up.

"Or course, Mr. Ironwood," Oscar said. Even after an hour of fighting, Ironwood had enough strength to pull Oscar up like it was nothing. Would Oscar ever get that good?

"James," Ironwood said. "My friends call me James."

Oh… Oscar flushed a little, surprised that he was friends with an adult. All he could manage was a shy, "... okay."

Iron-James moved back to his office, Oscar following. He retracted the cane and put it on his belt, behind the lamp. He touched it gently, patting it to make sure it was there. In the office, James moved behind his desk and sat down, opening some kind of drawer and pulling out… a bottle of whiskey. Oh, no, another Qrow...

The headmaster poured himself a shot and put the bottle away, downing the glass and leaning back, eyes closed and just... sighing. Oscar waited, not sure why Ir-James had led him back here. His eyes drifted over to the bookcases again, glancing over the titles. Where was the tea set?

"What are you looking for?" the headmaster asked.

Oscar blinked, realizing his thoughts. "At Haven," he started, before shaking his head and trying again. "Before I left, when Oz was trying to convince me he was real, he asked me to describe the headmaster's office at Haven Academy. I could, even though I'd never been there. The part I remembered most was the tea set. I gave it to Leonardo when he made headmaster, but…" he looked down. "Oz did that."

"He gave one to all of us," Iron-James said, standing. He moved across the office to a cabinet. "Each Academy Headmaster got a personalized set when we were elected." He opened the cabinet, rummaged around. "I never really used it," he explained, "I'm not much of a tea drinker. Oz wasn't, either, really, but tea was his second choice."

James turned around, and there was the tea set: rich blue, polished, more square than ovular, with a customized grip and metal spout. The teacups were the inverse, metal with deep blue handles. Oscar moved forward, glad to finally see them. He almost reached out before he caught himself, looked at his hand. "... I know these are his memories," he said, deflating a little. "But I still feel…"

"I understand," James said, voice sensitive. "Are you a tea drinker?"

"Water mostly," Oscar said, sitting down. "Juice if it was in season. We never really had much on the farm. Tea was for when there were guests, or if it was a holiday."

"Well, you're in Atlas now. What would you like?"

Oscar looked up to the headmaster, frowned as he considered the possibilities. "You know…" he said, "In Mistral it was never cold enough for hot chocolate."

Ironwood froze completely, eyes doubling in size.

Oscar frowned, suddenly uncertain if he'd said something wrong. Ironwood recovered, however, and quickly got up to go back to the cabinet. The man didn't say anything, just took the metal and blue cups and poured some kind of power in. Hot chocolate came as a powder? The teapot heated up, and steaming water was poured into each cup, the powder dissolving before milk and two drops of more chocolate were added. Iron-James stirred both cups a deliberate number of times, first one way, then another, before handing a cup over to Oscar. He took it, felt the warmth through his gloves, watched as James went to his desk to add whiskey to his. Ugh, would that even taste good?

James returned, sat with Oscar, and lifted his glass. "Cheers," he said, sipping his hot chocolate.

Oscar looked at his, held the cup to his mouth and just savored the steam on his face, breathed in the scent. His lips burned at first, but his first sip was sweet and thick and smooth. He felt the heat slide all the way down his esophagus to his stomach. He hummed, took another sip, and then another.

"This is a nice treat," he said, but stopped when he looked up. James was staring at him intently, less a headmaster and more a general, eyes narrow and calculating. "... what?" he asked.

And James sighed again. "Nothing," he said, dejected. "Just… Ozpin loved his hot chocolate."

Oscar blinked. "... Oh," he said, looking down at the cup. The spike of fear was back, but Oscar analyzed it and put it away. Oz may have loved hot chocolate, but Oscar only liked it. It was sweet and hot and thick, but it wasn't an instant love. Oscar would be fine with just his water. He watched James' face, saw the frustration, and lines under his eyes. Maybe they'd better change topics…

"So," Oscar said, putting the chocolate down and shrugging his shoulders. "The election. Who do you think will win?"

James scoffed, took another draw from his spiked drink. "I don't think it matters," he said. "Whoever it is will think they know what's best, and they don't."

"What makes you say that?" he asked.

"Experience," James said, looking down at his hot chocolate. "Elections are tricky things, because people don't really care about what the candidate does, just what they say. Voters don't educate themselves on the policies or the political stances or even current events half the time. I have to make announcement after announcement to reassure them or inform them or keep them from starting another riot; Winter, too. Voter's don't always do what's right."

Oscar blinked. "And what's right?"

James snorted, more a derisive exhale than a true laugh. "Not establishing world communications, apparently," he said with a mix of irony and sarcasm in his voice. "Not keeping the people safe when we tell them about Salem."

"But… they don't know any of that," Oscar said. He held his hands to his knees, unsure what to do with them without the hot chocolate. "How can they make an informed decision if the information isn't there?"

James sighed and brought a hand up to the bridge of his nose. The beard couldn't completely hide the grimace, nor the pulse of a vein in his forehead. "... You're right," he said, sounding pained. "Sorry. I know you're right. It's hard sometimes, making decisions like this, making sacrifices." His hands lowered, and he looked at Oscar directly. "Oz isn't here to guide us, so we're all working without a safety net. It's scary sometimes, worrying that you're making a mistake."

"Well…" Oscar said, playing with his hands. "It's okay to make mistakes. Then you get to learn from them."

"Not on this scale," James said. "Not when so much is depending on you." He paused, looked like he was about to say more, but he shook it off. "But don't worry," he added quickly. "It will be alright. I'll figure it out."

James downed the rest of his hot chocolate in four massive gulps, breathing through the burn of the whiskey in the drink, before setting his cup down. "You must be tired," he said, getting up. "Let's get you squared away."

Oscar nodded, but on the walk back he wondered why James thought he had to be the one to figure it all out.

The others all had opinions about the election - Weiss and Nora in particular, and their feelings bled through every time they talked. Oscar knew about Weiss' situation - sort of, there were enough allusions and the reactions of the rest of her team painted a very specific picture - but Nora Oscar didn't quite follow. He tried to ask Ren and Jaune, but Ren always seemed to turn the question around and Jaune was just as in the dark. Still, they trained, and for every step forward Oscar made they made a minimum of two. They were evolving, growing, and Oscar was just trying to keep up.

Every day they disappeared for their huntsmen work, and every day James tried something else to lure out Ozpin. The hot chocolate, the training, but also books, supposedly written by an old incarnation, or walking down to a very secure room to see an old woman on a bed that Oscar didn't know. James didn't explain, not about the old woman at least, and every attempt left him a little more frustrated.

The people were frustrated, too. Oscar listened to the students cursing out the people of Mantle not understanding anything, and the girls would come back with many a story about Mantle's suffering and discontent. Ruby mentioned a woman she and Qrow met on one of the convoys, and nobody was talking to each other.

Then it was time to vote.

And that was when tragedy struck.

Oscar was sitting in Jame's office, drinking tea and deciding if he liked it or not - it wasn't a Mistral flavor, but it was rich without being bitter - when the news on Jacques Schnee's election was interrupted for tragedy down in Mantle. Oscar and James watched, transfixed, as the reporters tried to describe what happened as a dozen alerts went off on James' scroll. He was on the scroll for over an hour, giving clipped orders, ordering troops below, demanding Dr. Polladina explain what happened with Penny, ordering Winter to get a press release ready, and already fielding calls from the other council members. He cursed, motioned to throw his scroll before he thought better of it, controlled the impulse.

Nobody felt good, and Grimm took advantage of that. The teams would come back ragged and exhausted, and Oscar didn't know what he could do to help them.

James summoned him again, and he said he had something to show him.

… Another attempt to bring out Ozpin. Oscar wondered if he was really friends with James, or if he was just saying that to get the person he really wanted to talk to.

Into the elevator they went, James hitting a button that opened a separate control panel that required yet another layer of verification. The elevator shifted and went down… down… down…

"Where are we going?"

"To see Oz's greatest gift to Atlas," James said. There were dark bags under his eyes.

The elevator shaft just… disappeared… and suddenly it wasn't an elevator but a platform lowering even further - how deep were they going? Were they going to reach the bottom of Atlas? And then whoa…

Everything was calm blues, bright almost to white and creating massive, black shadows. Rocks and crystals seemed to just emerge from the darkness, and they walked a long, narrow platform to an edge. Beyond was another door, accessible only by…

Oscar stiffened. "I feel like I know this place," he said, hazel eyes drinking everything in. "This is… this is the maiden's chamber."

"Very good," James said. He jutted his chin to the far door, the yawning chasm between them and it. "It's right behind that door."

Oscar marveled. "The staff of creation…" What did it look like, he wondered. What could it do? The name implied so much… was someone living in it like Jinn lived in the lamp?

James was looking at him again, that intense scrutiny.

"I hoped… bringing you down here might jog some memories," he confessed, looking up to the locked chamber. "After all, it was your idea to use the staff to lift Atlas off the ground."

… What? "I thought… gravity dust kept Atlas afloat."

"That's the public story."

What? Another secret?

"But with the staff we have a constant seemingly limitless energy source." James walked further down the platform, arms always behind his back. Pride was in his voice, pride over his country, over his city, over a maiden chamber. "Ozma speculated it could take us as high as we wanted. To tell you the truth, that served as the inspiration for the Amity Project. Get a communication tower up in the sky, higher than the Grimm can survive, so we can never lose contact with each other again…" James looked down, something in his voice changing, the pride bleeding away and turning into… Oscar couldn't name it.

"But," he said instead, "you're not using the staff to raise Amity." Wouldn't that be easier than digging through old mines, taking supplies from Mantle, causing all the problems?

"The staff can only be used for one purpose at a time," James said, his voice back to normal. "We're going to have to do Amity the old fashioned way, dust and all."

Oscar's eyes lifted up to the far away door again, felt the silence of the space, the weight of what was in there. "It feels strange," he admitted, "knowing that part of me came up with all this." This was before Ozpin, a different incarnation, someone Oscar never heard of.

"You'll get used to it, I'm sure," James said, voice reassuring. Oscar's eyes drifted to the big man's back, the broad shoulders. "Eventually, you won't even know who's who anymore."

And just like that it all came back: the erasure, the lack of control over what was going to happen to him, suffering for the other guy's mistakes. Instead of reassurance, Oscar felt the spike of fear, the one thing he hadn't shed when Oz disappeared. He looked down, working through the emotion as fast as possible. All he could manage was a soft, "… Right…" in response.

James sighed, the noise pulling Oscar out of his thoughts. "We… didn't always see eye to eye," the headmaster confessed, "but… I wish I could ask Ozpin what he thought of all this."

… That was why he was trying so hard to pull Ozpin out, to hear the reassurance that he was doing the right thing. Oscar didn't realize adults craved that as much as kids. He couldn't tell James what he wanted to hear, but...

"Well… I can tell you what I think," he said. He wanted to be reassuring, but he didn't want to lie either. He saw what the others saw, heard how Blake said James sometimes echoed someone else she knew, saw how frustrated Nora was when she came back from Mantle, he saw how hard Ruby was trying to do the right thing. He couldn't do any less. "The path you're heading down, the one where you're the only one with all the answers… where you do the thing you think is right no matter the cost… It's not going to take you anywhere good."

No one person had all the answers, that had been Oz's greatest failure, to let people think that he did when he was just as lost as everyone else. Oscar hadn't gotten as far as he had without the help and training of other people, the reassurance of Ruby and the bitter honesty of Qrow - even Yang's anger and Jaune's accusations had pushed him. And before that, his parents, Aunt Em; it took a village to raise a child, and it took a country to build an Atlas. No one person, not even Oz, could accomplish that. Greatness came from unity and-

The headmaster didn't like what he heard, his face hardening. "We have to stop Salem," James said, voice hard and turning away from Oscar, from the chamber. "Nothing matters more."

"Some things matter more, I think," Oscar said, nervous but forcing himself to say it anyway. The general was trying so hard, and he needed to see... "Keeping our humanity… It's… what makes us different from her."

James paused, processing the words. "… Sometimes I worry that's her greatest advantage," he said, moving again to the lift. "Without humanity… Does she still feel fear? Does she ever hesitate?" Oscar blinked, recognizing what he was hearing. "When Salem hit Beacon, even with all my ships, with all of my soldiers, I was no match for her. I've never felt so helpless. The way she… told me she was there."

Oh, James… he was just as afraid as everyone else. All the ships, all the soldiers, it was all to protect himself from ever feeling vulnerable again. Oscar knew that pain, had to work through it after Haven, I didn't consent, wanted to know about Ozpin in case it ever happened again. But Oscar was still there, still making decisions, still trying. He was afraid ever since Oz introduced himself in his own head, fought with it every day - even just now, you won't even know who's who anymore, knowing he was going to be erased. Compassion swelled in Oscar, and he tried to give comfort.

"It's okay to be afraid," he said. James turned. "You just can't let that fear control you."

His response was derision: "I am not going to end up like Lionheart."

Oscar winced. Had he pushed too far?

Then, "… Do you believe in me?" James asked, his voice small, quiet.

… Without Oz, he was looking for solace where he could get it. Oscar wasn't sure he could give what James wanted: absolution for everything he was doing, but he didn't want to reject the headmaster either. Like Oscar, he was making his own decisions, uncertain if they were right, but doing his best anyway. Oscar could understand that, but he couldn't let the man's fear go. He had to understand that other people could help him, and that he didn't have to have every answer.

"I do believe in you," Oscar said, walking to the lift. "But… not only you." He turned to face James. "I think the best thing you could do, is sit down and talk with the people you're most afraid to."

James was staring at him again, tired eyes wide. He chuckled. "Now you are starting to sound like him."

He got onto the lift. "Who are you thinking of, exactly?"

"The Council, I guess," Oscar said. "You talk a lot about how they get in the way, but would they get in the way if they knew what you were doing? Or would they help you? Or maybe that woman RWBY talked about, Hill, I think her name was? They say her only priority is making sure Mantle is safe - that's a noble goal, and that implies she's a good person."

"Still always seeing the best in people," James said, amused.

"Well, what made you trust Weiss' sister? Or Penny?" Oscar asked. "Or the Ace Ops?"

"Loyalty," James said without missing a beat.

"And what makes you think the Council is any less loyal?"

"Oscar, they have their own agenda."

"But is that agenda set in stone?" Oscar asked. "Would their priorities shift when they learned what you were doing? Did your priorities shift when Oz… brought you in?"

James was chuckling again, shaking his head. "Keep talking," he said, amused, "And soon I won't know the difference."

Oscar winced.

At the office Winter and Penny were there, Winter pacing up and down. An invitation, to General Ironwood, to a soiree held at the Schnee manor. Winter was cursing, and Penny was confused but concerned. James… James aged ten years as he read the missive, his entire body tensing, pressure seeming to build in his body. Oscar was quickly dismissed, and he watched James walk into his office.

Oscar was worried, he'd just counseled him to come out into the open, "on his terms. Ironwood's going to be locked in a room at his rival's own dinner party. I know Jacques says he's 'happy to moderate,' but all that really means is he'll be the one controlling the conversation."

Oh…

Please, on my own terms, not like this…

Oscar blinked, remembering the struggle in the snow, fighting over Oz's secrets and letting people in. Something in him twinged, and for the first time he felt… he wasn't sure what the word was - they had done the right thing, they had the right to know, the secrets shouldn't have been kept - but he understood, now, how upset Oz was that this was being dragged - no, ripped - out of him. Oscar felt - was bad the right word? Regret, that was closer. He regretted that it had all come to that, that that was the only way the truth would come out.

And then, one traitorous thought: how often did Oz feel that way? How often did he do something he didn't feel good about? Oscar shuddered as he and the others piled into the cars.

"You okay, kid?"

Oscar looked up, saw Qrow looking at him from the other side of the seat, Clover next to him on his scroll.

"Just…" Oscar frowned, tried to find the right words. "Ironwood wants to tell everyone the truth but he's also keeping so much quiet until the time is right. I was wondering… if he did the same thing…" And they were doing the same thing with James, keeping what they learned locked away until it was the right time… were they really any different?

Qrow's face fell, he reached into his shirt but paused, and nothing came out.

"That's the difference I guess," Qrow said, turning to look out a window. "Oz had lifetime after lifetime to come clean, and he never did. He didn't trust anyone."

Oscar frowned, looking down at his hands. "... he would have trusted me…" he whispered, making and unmaking fists. He had to, because he was going to take over Oscar's body. What did that say about… about anything?

The soiree itself was unlike anything Oscar had ever seen, and he was very aware that he was a farm boy as they climbed out of the car to a massive - this was a house? - building. He stuck to the back, taking his cues from the others, afraid of drawing attention to himself. Weiss was a natural, and the others seemed to know what the protocol was. Oscar kept a plate in his hand, stared at the utterly tiny little pastry and tried to figure out if this was supposed to be a meal or not. It tasted rich and heavy for something so small. The teams made their plans, and Oscar watched the sheer artistry of JNR as they created a diversion to let Weiss into the upper floors of the house. It almost fell apart, but instead worked even more brilliantly.

After that there wasn't really much to do, and Oscar didn't know any of the guests. Ruby and the others were with their teams, and sometimes that was a little intimidating - they were so close, and had gone through so much together, sometimes Oscar had a hard time connecting to them. He knew Ruby would give him time but he didn't want to monopolize her.

"Hey, pup, why are you standing in a corner by yourself?"

Oscar looked up to see one of the Ace Ops, the faunus… Marrow?

"Uh, sorry," he said quickly. "I've never been to a party like this."

The operative sniffed. "Lucky for you you lasted this long," he said, tail swishing behind him. "We always have to cover something like this during election season." The tail drooped. "I usually like the Mantle ones better."

Oscar looked up. "Really? Why?"

"They're more real," Marrow answered. "All of this," he gestured, "It's a stage. Everyone's posing in their fancy clothes and fancy foods talking about their fancy lives. They all want to prove they're the best player in a game that doesn't even matter. They're all so different in their own homes. Down in Mantle, they don't play that game. They're just themselves, and it's ugly and it's a powder keg, but at least it's genuine. At least… it was…"

The faunus looked away, and only then did Oscar remember that Marrow had been the one on the footage of the election party massacre.

"Hey," he said, making the faunus turn and look down at him. "I'm sorry… that you had to go through that."

Green eyes widened, and he quickly turned away. "Like I need some kid giving me sympathy," he said gruffly, but his tail was wagging, and Oscar smiled.

"Marrow."

The two looked over as Clover moved swiftly up to them, the other two flanking him.

"Sir!"

"We have a problem," he said. "Take your scroll off silence, look at the news feeds."

Oscar and Marrow both did, and Oscar stared at his scroll. The heat had been shut down? Riots in the streets? Burning fire dust? And now a Grimm invasion? Marrow emitted a low growl, and Oscar looked up to see the four operatives exchange a glance. "Get ready to mobilize," Clover ordered. "Whatever our orders this is going to be a long night. I'll go inform the general."

"Wait, I'll go with you."

"Try and keep up, kid," Clover said, and Oscar was forced to run to keep up with the bigger man's strides. He opened the doors to the meeting with both hands. "General," he announced, "The Grimm are all over Mantle. The air fleet is doing everything they can, but they can't easily target them in the city without risking casualties."

Oscar saw Ironwood's face when it hit him, saw his blue eyes widen and a hand reach up to cover his mouth, the grimace. "This…" he muttered, turning away, "This is what I was afraid would happen."

"Sir. We need ground support now."

"What we need is to start evacuating Mantle," said a blond woman. "If it's completely overrun it's not going to be safe anywhere! Use the fleet to get-"

"If I use the fleet then Atlas is vulnerable!" Ironwood shouted, standing in the corner of the room, literally cornered. Then the energy left him in a rush, Oscar watched his shoulders slump, his head dip. The military posture was gone, and so was the confidence, and so was the hope. "I… I tried to keep the kingdom safe," he said, voice almost broken. "And now we're losing everything."

This was it, then. James' worst fears had come to pass. It had all fallen apart, but that meant now it could be rebuilt. Oscar… he had faced his worst fears with Jinn - he knew exactly what was going to happen to him now, but… he was still trying. James needed to, too.

"General?" he asked softly, walking up to the big man. "Earlier, you asked for my advice."

James was still holding his head, hand pressed to the wall, the picture of defeat. "I wanted Ozpin's advice."

That hurt. In some ways he was still invisible. Oscar pressed on, though. Ironwood needed to hear this. "… His advice probably would have been to keep your secrets. But when we first got here you already knew that wasn't the right course. You had a new plan."

"It's time to give up on that plan," James said, straightening. "It's all falling apart."

No, it wasn't. Believing in people didn't fall apart, helping people didn't fall apart. "The panic you were worried about? It's already happening," Oscar said. "The secrets you're keeping, they're about to be in the open anyway. It's time." Don't run away from the disaster, don't hide and never come out. Accept that it's happening, meet it, make it your own. Oscar was trying to do that, he was trying to make being the next Oz worth something, make his time before he was erased matter. Ironwood - James - he could do the same. "Tell the truth."

"You're not alone," Ruby said, moving up to stand beside Oscar. "We can do this together."

James looked between the two of them, eyes wide as he absorbed the words. Slowly, a weak smile peaked through his beard, something almost like relief ghosting over his face. "Hmm," he said, nodding his head. "Thank you." He turned. "Oscar, I think it's time you get back to the Academy."

Oscar nodded. "I think you're right."

"Miss Hill. Councilman Sleet, Councilwoman Camilla. There are some things you need to know about. Let's figure out how we can help Mantle. Together."

"I've called a transport."

"What about Watts and Tyrian?"

"Leave them to me. Right now you're needed down below."

"Alright everybody. It's time to do our jobs. All of us."

"What she said. Let's make it happen, huntsman!"

They all moved out, Oscar swelling with pride over Ironwood - James - making the right decision. He stood up to his fear, and he faced what he had been avoiding. He had grown, and that meant he was ready. Ready for the truth.

But wait, he'd promised Ruby…

"Oscar?"

Perfect timing! He turned around, and they started talking at the same time, all awkward pauses and Oscar really wanted to get it out before she disappeared to fight-

"I think we should tell Ironwood!"

Oh, she said it, too! They laughed.

"I guess we're on the same page, huh?"

Oscar smiled. "I guess so. He's finally choosing the truth over fear." And that mattered, that mattered so much. "We should do the same."

"I'll tell him," Ruby said, rubbing an arm. "I'm the one who chose to keep it from him in the first place."

"Ruby! Transport's leaving!"

Oscar smiled. "I think you're needed elsewhere."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. I've got it." He gave a thumbs up.

He wasn't allowed back into the room of course, Ironwood was reading in the Council on Salem and the Grimm and the people she controlled. He watched Jacques Schnee be hauled off, smiled when he saw the cuffs. He didn't know everything, but he suspected Weiss would have been very happy to see that. The meeting dragged on, and Oscar sat beside the door, scroll out and watching the news over the Grimm invasion of Mantle. Mostly it was about the air transports and the designated landing zones for evacuation of the city. There weren't a lot of cameras out, most of them above, but he did see smoke and the small blasts of ammunition. It took awhile for the cameras to finally get to the Landing Zones.

He also kept his comm open, but he kept the volume down. The last thing he needed was the extra adrenaline of the fight down below. It was more important for him to be calm when he talked to James. It was… well, it was a lot to take in. Oscar and the others had days, weeks, to process everything they learned, and now Oscar had to be strong enough to share it with James in a way that he wouldn't break.

The two council members stepped out as if in a daze, the blond following with a shocked expression on her face. Oscar stood, dusting himself off, turned and entered the impromptu council room.

"Oscar? You're still here?"

"Uh, yeah," he said, suddenly nervous. "I wanted… well, we all wanted, to tell you something when we first got here, but everything was so, so all over the place, and we didn't know who to trust." He looked down, took a seat. Oscar took a breath, felt a spike of anxiety. It was so much to take in, but he closed his eyes and reminded himself: James chose to face his fear, and he chose the truth. "We know why Oz is gone."

"What?" James said, straightening. "You know? Then what…?"

"It's… it's kind of our fault," Oscar said. "After Haven, I realized that Ozpin was hiding things from us. I could… I could feel it." He gestured vaguely, trying to explain. Then he patted the lamp. "The relic, it can answer questions, and Oz said all the questions were all used up, but they weren't."

He looked up, saw James was very still, eyes wide, bracing himself for the news.

"... How much did he tell you about Salem?" Oscar asked.

"Oscar…" James took a breath. "He said what he always said when someone was brought in, that she had lived as long as he, that she had some control of the Grimm, that she sought to end humanity. Why? What did you learn?"

He took a deep breath. "That she can't be killed."

Silence.

Oscar looked up, saw James staring, color literally draining out of his face. The bags under his eyes were more defined, the lines on his face harder, making him look older. "No," he whispered, frowning. "That can't be right… She… can't be killed…" His gaze snapped to Oscar. "Jinn told you this?"

He held Ironwood's gaze. "She showed us when we asked what Oz was hiding."

James was shell shocked, face an open book as he struggled to understand what he had been told. Oscar wondered if he, they, all had that face in the vision, as they realized just how much had been hidden from them. Pain flickered in Oscar's heart, he was sad that Ironwood had to learn all of this.

"Why…" he started to ask. "Why would Oz keep this from us? From the people who trusted him?"

Oscar knew the answer to this, and he reached out and placed his hand on the table. "He was worried you would lose hope," he said, keeping his voice soft. He had felt those feelings, had felt them long before the confrontation with Jinn in the snow. Oz always wanted people to be at their best, always wanted to spare pain when he could - even when he shouldn't. Oscar hadn't been ready for those feelings, needed to work through his own before he could accept them. Without Oz in his head, he finally had time to process, to understand his own mind before he could look to Oz's. Oscar didn't agree with Oz's choice, but he could now say he understood it.

"We're sorry we kept it from you, too," he said, looking down. "We didn't know who to trust. I figured… you should know before you make any…" he looked up, saw that James was turned away, hand covering his mouth again. He was so pale, he looked like he was about to be sick; the news was rocking him, it was shaking him down to his very core. For a moment Oscar was almost scared, scared he had told him too soon. "... sacrifices." Oscar worried, suddenly wondering if he had done the right thing.

"...Sir?" he asked. "What are you going to do?" Was he okay? Would he be okay?

"I…" James couldn't find the words, and Oscar felt nothing but empathy. He was determined to be there for James, help him as Oscar himself hadn't been helped. He didn't blame Qrow and the others, they had been hurt just as much by Oz's secrets, perhaps more, and all of their inroads were with each other, not with him. Oscar had figured it out for himself, and the others had come around, too. He could still make decisions, and he decided, in that moment, to make sure James would be okay.

Ironwood took a deep breath, long and heavy. "All we can do for the moment is what we can to save Mantle. That's what's in front of us."

… Good. He was still facing his fear. Oscar smiled. "… He'd be proud of you," he said, reassuring his friend. "You're bringing the hope that Atlas was meant to inspire. A city in the sky is held to a higher standard."

James frowned at him, still so pale, so haggard. "You say that… like you were th-" His scroll beeped, and he looked at the alert. "Our transports are here. We should move."

Oscar nodded, got up and started to walk out of the meeting room. He frowned, knowing what Ironwood was about to say. His erasure was still happening, and he wondered how much time he would have left. No, he had to keep making decisions, he had to help his friend.

"Oscar." He turned, saw Ironwood still in his seat. For such a big man he looked so… vulnerable. "No more surprises, alright?" he asked, tone slightly plaintive and so, so tired. He tried for a laugh: "I'm not sure I could take it."

Oscar smiled. "… you and me both," he said. "But you know, even if there are more surprises, we can handle it. Together."

"I… I can't argue with that," James said, standing. He followed Oscar out of the meeting room. "Miss Hill, if you would come with me. We're going to set a trap while we fly to the broadcast station. Councilman Sleet, Councilwoman Camilla, I need people to oversee the evacuation and set up triage centers at the academy. It's past time we showed Mantle our best."

The Academy was buzzing with activity as Oscar made it to the dorm he shared with JNR. He kept the relic on his toolbelt, scroll out and watched the feeds. It was the better part of an hour or two before he saw Ironwood and the woman, Hill, make their broadcast, and they explained everything: Salem, the communication tower, how to rally, don't give up, we won't be divided. Oscar felt so much pride he didn't know what to do with himself, energy was humming inside him, excitement that finally, finally, something good had happened. It didn't matter that it was well after midnight, Oscar was bouncing in his seat, then on his feet, just so happy with what James had done.

The media was an absolute buzz with the conference, James' and the woman's - Hill's - faces plastered all over the screen, discussing the Mantle woman's Semblance, the Amity Project, completely unable to understand Salem and trying to process it live in front of everyone. Oscar kept it on mute, focused instead on Ironwood's face as he gave the news, the smile on Hill's face, and oh, he was positively bursting with pride.

Penny was on screen, too, her green energy beams easy to pick out as the continuing coverage of the evacuation of Mantle was covered, some kind of giant Grimm killed by its own tusks. He caught a glimpse of Janue leading civilians with Ren, and Nora was at a landing zone with her giant hammer, he even caught a glimpse of Qrow and Clover on a roof, coordinating teams. It was amazing, seeing them work in action, even in the broken images of an incomplete news feed. He couldn't keep still, risked ticking the volume up on his ear piece - he could make out the random cries of aggression: Yang's district trill, Nora's exuberant cries, Jaune's shouted orders came in loud and clear. He looked at the clock, realized how late it was and knew he should probably go to bed, but too much was happening and he didn't want to miss anything. Something good was happening, something positive, and he wanted to glory in it even if only by proxy.

Well, well after Ironwood's press conference there was a knock on the door. Oscar looked, surprised, and glanced at the clock. That late, or rather, that early?

He opened the door. A woman was there in Academy uniform, jet black hair and bright green eyes.

She didn't say anything, just stared at him, a small smirk on her face.

"... can I help you?" he asked.

Then she sucker punched him.

Air rushed out of his lungs in one great rush, and he crumpled to the ground. The academy student stepped over him as he gasped for air, calm as you please, and closed the door behind her. Oscar rolled over, still trying to get air, and he saw her look around the room, lifting the blankets of the bunk, then the mattress. She pulled out one bed and then another, popping open storage drawers, pulling out the few clothes JNR had packed with them. Oscar coughed, tried to breathe, he needed to breathe, and finally he was able to suck some air into his lungs. The girl turned, eyes narrow and she walked over, crouching down.

"What… what do you want?" Oscar asked.

His answer was a punch to his jaw and then a kick to his side. His aura activated, fighting to help him recover from the blows, and she felt hands on his person. The girl-what? She had changed somehow, was now all pinks and browns and whites-she put a hand on his chest, slid it under his coat, around his belt. She pulled out his cane no please don't take the cane, studied and and shrugged, tossing it aside. Oscar was flailing, grabbing at her small hands and trying to figure out what she was even doing. A hand touched the relic and oh no, oh no, ohnononononononono.

"Please open this door. Sensors indicated heart rates above recommended levels for sleeping. Please submit to inspection."

"Help!" Oscar shouted. "Help!" He'd managed to grab the girl's wrist, she was trying to pry the relic away but he refused to let go, tried to curl his legs around her ankles, keep her in place. He had no idea what he was doing, his body was working on semi-instinct, he just knew she could not get the relic.

The door slid open, two security machines came in. The girl looked up, her pink and brown eyes wide for a second, before she smiled. An umbrella was in her hand, she leveled it at one of the robots, and Oscar heard a click before that was an explosion, the sound of shattering glass, a whoosh of heat fire burning metal weight.

He was dazed, laying on the ground, coughing from the smoke and wondering what even happened. He could hear sparks, something heavy was on him, and his aura was working overtime to handle the dust-oh, the girl had used fire dusts, shot from the umbrella. Stupid, stupid Oscar, what was all that training even for? Cursing, he reached for his hip but the relic wasn't there. Damn. Damn! He crawled to the far side of the room, wrapping a fist around his cane and oh, a rush of confidence filled him.

He got to his feet, stumbled out the room and saw the pink-white-brown girl skipping down the hall, the lamp at her hip.

"Hey!" he shouted, ran after her.

She turned, eyes wide for a split second before she frowned, crossing her arms. She scoffed, and Oscar had closed enough distance that he tried to grab her arm, but the girl spun around, faster than he could process, and stabbed at his side with her umbrella, sending him slamming into the hallway wall. He grunted, fought through the bruise, got back to his feet and gave chase again.

"Hey! Come back!" he shouted again, pumping his legs for a full dash, aura still running to heal him. He was going to need so much more training after this…

She shook her head, face shouting tut, tut, and simply ran. The halls were all the same, maze like, and with the new floors Oscar had trouble keeping himself oriented. The ringing in his ears from the explosion was going away, he could hear something going on on the comms, but he couldn't focus on it as he was chasing the girl. His body was heavy - it wasn't used to exercising and using aura at the same time, he felt like he was doing twice the workout, and he was regretting all the motion he was doing while watching the news feeds.

Twice, he caught up enough that he thought he could catch her, but twice it turned out that she was giving him time to catch up so she could hit him again. Oscar was able to dodge the first time, but his body couldn't comply fast enough for the second and he got a heeled boot to his side. That was three kicks now he'd taken there, and he could only get up and give chase again. He knew he was slowing down, his aura sapping his energy, and the girl knew it, too, she was toying with him. She turned a corner, out of sight.

"Oscar? Oscar!"

Was that… Nora?

He turned and just saw - himself? - smirk at him and turn another corner. No, no, they wouldn't know, he had to tell them!

"Noo!" he shouted, turning a corner, sliding slightly, and sprinting as far as his legs could carry him, lifted his arm for a punch. Nora was there, looking at him in utter shock, and he was able to land a hit on his double, the sound of glass shattering as the illusion disappeared and the pink-white-brown girl appeared.

The lamp clattered to the ground, and he scooped it up and oh, it was safe again, he was so relieved.

"This crazy girl showed up and attacked me," he explained. "But, she looked like someone else."

All of JNR was there, and all of them were grim faced. "Neo Politan," Nora hissed as the girl lifted her umbrella.

Oscar blinked. "You know her?"

"We haven't exactly heard good things," Jaune said, sword up and ready. "Give up," he said to Politan. "We've got you outnumbered."

Her response was to extend a blade from the tip of her umbrella.

"... Alright then," Nora said, firing two shells. Oscar grabbed the Long Memory and extended it. He took a deep breath, waiting for his chance as Ren and Nora made their assault. Politan simply smirked, tackled both of them quickly and efficiently. Oscar worried about his chances, but he had to try, and he led with a strike from his cane. She simply looped her arm around his, and he didn't really understand it at first, only that everything was spinning and then he was up in the air - he heard the lamp detach and he spun around wildly, finding it in air with him. Muscle memory took over, his eyes narrowing focus and lunging… right… now! He got the lamp to loop around the shaft of the Long Memory and landed heavily on his feet, gripping both sides so the relic wouldn't slide off. He was not losing the relic again! Politan was having none of that however, advanced on him aggressively and Oscar quickly gave ground, eyes wide and trying to track what the pink-white-brown girl was doing.

Then Jaune was there, shield up, and gave a burst of gravity dust, letting Oscar breathe enough to reattach the relic to his belt - securely, this time. He looked up and saw her eyes on Ren and Nora, and Oscar took advantage, launching himself down and grabbing her feet. She looked surprised, but she once again disappeared into shattered glass.

"What?"

"Where'd she go."

Oscar didn't know, and honestly he didn't care, the ground felt so good right now, he was out of breath and struggling to get it under control. His aura was still working overtime - once this was over he was going to train and get his body used to doing both at once. How did the others make it look so easy?

"Freeze!"

"We gotta move!"

Jaune and the others took off and a sprint, and Oscar gulped a deep breath as he pushed himself to follow.

"What's going on?" Oscar asked. "They're security aren't they?"

"Wrong kind of security," Nora said, spinning around a corner.

"Ironwood declared martial law," Jaune said quickly, over his shoulder. "He's abandoning Mantle and arresting us!"

He was what? What happened? What happened to trusting others, truth over fear? Had the fight in Mantle gone that badly and the news didn't say?

"Hurry! We gotta lose them!"

Oscar fought to keep up with them, he really did, he was pushing as far as he could, but between the fight in his quarters the the exploded security robots and the chase through the halls and all the kicks to his side, he felt like he was on his last legs. The others were so much taller, their strides were longer and more efficient, and Oscar had to work twice as hard to cover half the distance. The other three would stop at an intersection, and just when Oscar was starting to catch up they would turn and run past him, leaving him struggling to change directions and then catch up again. They clipped around corners so fast, and Oscar was losing track of where he was, the new tiles on the floors were distracting him and he wasn't sure how the patterns were supposed to show him where to go like the first designs did and-where'd they go?

Oscar stopped, eyes wide, spinning around. "Guys?"

"They went this way!"

Oh dust-

A hand grabbed him and pulled him into a side hall, narrow and small, and Oscar struggled, afraid it was that glass-umbrella woman again - Politan. He struggled, but the guards chasing them blew by, and the hand let go when it was quiet. He actually breathed a sigh of relief, turned to see who had helped him what what what-

His body moved on its own with no instruction, training and muscle memory making him dodge back to avoid the point of the umbrella tip. The girl-! She looked like Nora, red hair, pink clothes, but the eyes were pink and brown, and the smirk was there, and why was she smir-His eyes snapped to Politan's hip, and oh now she had the relic she grabbed it when she was hiding him what was he going to do-

His back snapped against the wall and he fell to the floor like a rag doll. No… "No…!"

"Oscar!"

Jaune, back to them both, Politan still in Nora's form running at him full tilt. She was done playing now that she had the relic, she blew by him and then Ren, Oscar couldn't quite follow what happened, still fighting to catch up, but Ren was on the ground, snapping up with a look of horror. Jaune was giving chase, shouting "Stop!" and turning a corner.

"Drop your weapons!"

"Fall back!" Jaune shouted, and they turned and ran again, Oscar pumping one leg in front of the other. The twisted and turned, Ren was falling behind and Nora kept looking back, but Oscar couldn't follow why because he didn't want to lose sight of them again. The more even spread made it easier, and the slowly shifted from one wing of the academy to another.

They ran into a training room, the four of them taking either side of the door, and for a moment there was quiet as they tried to catch their breath. Or rather, they let Oscar catch his breath. He was beside himself, they'd completely lost the Politan girl, how had she disappeared so fast? The lamp was his responsibility, he was supposed to keep it safe, and he failed. Shame burned through him.

"I'm sorry…" he gasped, unable to stand being in his own head.

"Don't be," Jaune said, voice gentle, soft. So unlike his voice in Argus.

Ren was equally forgiving, saying, "We weren't ready to become huntsmen." His head was down, had been for a while.

"That's no true," Nora said, trying to be encouraging.

"Then why aren't we holding the relic?" Ren demanded, and Oscar winced because that was his fault. "Now Salem has the lamp, Ironwood has the staff, and we. Have. Nothing!"

"Ren," Jaune interrupted, standing to his full height, the stance of a leader. "That's enough."

"Hello? Anybody there? Can you hear me?"

Everyone froze, eyes doubling in size.

"Our scrolls? Doctor!"

"Haha! Finest mind in all of Atlas!"

Oscar closed his eyes, feeling the jubilance of hearing a familiar voice, but… We. Have. Nothing! He grimaced, bent down lower, felt his side burn. He'd failed his responsibility to protect the lamp, how could he make that up to Ren and the others? What was he supposed to do to fix the damage he'd caused? How could he spare them even a little bit of pain?

Ironwood declared martial law.

His eyes snapped open. His second responsibility. James. Maybe he could stop...

His feet were moving before he had even finished the thought, knowing what he had to do. He had to try, he had to do his best. He might have lost the lamp, but he might save the staff, he might get James to see reason. He had gotten through to him once, surely he could again? James was his friend, he owed it to the man to at least try.

"Oscar?" Jaune, on the comm. "Oscar!"

Oscar lifted a hand to his ear piece. "I'm sorry," he said, "but you all need to go on without me."

"What are you talking about?"

"There's something I have to do alone," he answered, and he switched off the comm, pulling out his scroll and pulling up the recording of the group chat. He ran past a clock, realized it was probably sunrise outside, and scrolled through the chat, looking for what Jaune had said.

Ironwood's declaring martial law and abandoning Mantle! Salem is coming and he's going to use the staff to move Atlas! If we don't stop him now Mantle's going to be des-

Oh, James… what happened to make you so scared?

Oscar made it to the headmaster's office unmolested, blinked when he saw the atrium an absolute wreck, the Ace Ops - the Ace Ops?? - tied up on the floor, only just beginning to stir. Then he smiled, that was Team RWBY, without a doubt. He moved to the elevator, frowned to remember how to get the secondary access panel, and punched in the code - the day James joined Oz's circle - the day that meant the most to him, the day he knew he had made it.

The lift started to descend, and only then did Oscar realize he was shaking. His body was soaked in sweat from all the running, his side was still hurting, aura trying to fix the damage. If James had chosen fear… moving Atlas was drastic, arresting RWBY and JNR and everyone else was drastic, what would he do if Oscar tried to change his mind?

No, he couldn't think like that, that was fear talking, and Oscar knew how to work past fear. He had to teach James that.

But he was still shaking.

He extended the Long Memory again, adjusted the height so it worked with his small frame. He aligned his feet and rested his hands on the pommel, and oh, that felt so much better. The posture, the stance, he felt something almost like relief descend over his spine. The anxiety didn't go away, but he felt calmer, he could take a controlled breath now, inhale through his nose and out of his mouth. He did it again, and again, eyes closed and just breathing, hoping that James would see reason. He was vulnerable, something had made him vulnerable, and more than anything else he needed compassion, understanding.

He could hear James saying something as he descended, watched the man turn and realize who was joining him in the maiden's chamber. He stepped forward.

"And… whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with?" he asked.

Oscar realized how he must have looked, cane extended, walking toward him. He sighed, sad. "... Still just me," he said.

He saw James blink slowly, accepting the words. "… It was smart of you, not to bring the lamp down here," he said, and Oscar held in a wince. "I wouldn't trust me either, right now."

And that was the problem, wasn't it. After all the secrets, all the rage directed at James from Mantle and everyone else, he felt like nobody trusted him. Even Oscar and the others, they weren't sure if he could be trusted when they first got here - Ruby was afraid to make a mistake, but they were all trying their best. James had earned their trust earlier that night, but he hadn't seen it. Had fallen back to old habits. That's what Oscar was hoping to fix.

"Trust," he said, "is what I'm hoping to fix. I know we can still figure this out, all of it, together." He waited, searched James' face. "Please," he asked, softly.

His response was incredulity: "Do you intend to fight me?"

Oscar shook his head. "No. That's exactly what she wants." He looked down at the Long Memory, his complicated relationship to it. "I guess it's because of Oz," he said, holding it up, "but… Holding it helps calm me down, when I'm afraid." He retracted the shaft, put it away. He had to show James he wasn't afraid, not of him, not of their friendship. He had to give James faith, show him trust, for it to be rewarded in kind. He needed empathy.

"You still think I'm afraid." It was an accusation.

"We all are," Oscar confessed. "It's what we do in our fear that reveals-"

"That's easy for you to say!" James shouted, voice echoing and bouncing off the shadowed walls of the chamber. Oscar flinched at the volume, and James moved in, taking aggressive, predatory steps forward. "You can label me whatever you'd like," he said, Oscar backing up, "but the fact of the matter is I was right. The minute I softened, let my guard down, that's when Salem had her opening."

"If you abandon Mantle," Oscar countered, trying to burst through his friend's fear, trying to push past the overreaction and to the real James, the one who wanted to protect everyone, who inspired such devout loyalty, the one who did not give in to fear, "you abandon our best chance at reuniting the world, you abandon Remnant, leaving millions to fend for themselves so a few can survive, what kind of-"

"All excellent philosophical points," James said, bitter and sarcastic, rolling his eyes, "that won't matter, if Salem wins!"

"Listen to me!" Oscar begged, trying to get through.

"No, you listen," James commanded, voice still so aggressive. He was still advancing, pushing Oscar back, he was so big, broad and muscular, even with his arm bandaged and bound to his core, he was intimidating. "I'm done letting others' inability to see the big picture get in the way of doing what's right. Robin. The Council. This kingdom. Even you."

His fear… his fear had taken control. He had given into it, and he was too afraid to even listen. Oscar was sad, so sad, that it had come to this.

"… then you're as dangerous as she is, James."

James looked down, thinking for a brief moment. Oscar held his breath. "James," he said, "is what my friends call me." He looked at Oscar, and his eyes were devoid of anything. "To you, it's General."

He fired.

The bullet struck Oscar where he had been kicked so many times, and the combination of the recoil and the flare of his aura knocked him back. Then his aura broke.

And he fell.

Dead eyes watched him.

He… he'd failed.

He lost the relic. And he lost James. He'd failed.

He didn't know what to do anymore. He was just… so tired...

Oscar.

His eyes snapped open. Oz?

He looked around, tried to make out details in the dark. There, the cane, the Long Memory. He changed his angle, reached, tried to angle his descent. A fist wrapped around it, and he held it close, let the calm fill him as he extended it to its full reach. He could still remember the relief he felt when he held it for the first time, when Qrow had tossed it to him. He knew it has served him well, for as long as he could remember, and something settled over his mind, as his muscle memory pressed the lever. The gears turning soothed him, the old, familiar warmth pulsing through his hands and slowly into the depths of his body. He wasn't even aware of falling anymore, all he was aware of was the Long Memory, and his minds were full of memories, unlocking one by one by one, and somehow… somehow… he knew…

His eyes snapped open, the power filled him, and he cried out as he spun around and thrust, green and pulse and power and perseverance.

Everything smashed.

But he was still falling, this time through the sky. He had burst through the outer shell of Atlas, and now Mantle and the tundra spread out below him. He took a breath, placed the cane behind him, certain he could do this on his own now. He reached deep inside of himself, and he could feel a presence at his shoulder, something like a warm embrace, bequeathing strength.

He cried out again, pulse power perseverance, and the green orb surrounded him again, cushioned his fall. It was still crackling, giving him an odd buzzing sensation, and he straightened.

"That power… these memories…"

His reprieve was over.

"You're back, aren't you?" he asked. The thought of him mattering was gone now, the idea of him trying his best, of owning what he was becoming, was erased the way he was going to be erased. "You saved me."

Oz had taken over, hadn't he. Kept him alive for the next part of the plan he didn't have.

Oscar sighed, resigned to all of his fears.

Actually… and there was a gentle smile in the voice, pride, You saved us.

Oscar looked up to the sky, heard a rumble of thunder.

Oscar, I…

"Stop," he said. He didn't want to hear it. Didn't want to hear the sorrys, didn't want to hear the self hatred and regret, didn't want to hear the excuses. If Oz was here, he was going to use him just as much as Oz would eventually use him. "All I want to know, is how to save Atlas next."

Author's Notes: Are we the only ones who see the fact that Oscar associates more with the adults than the other kids? A side effect of having an old man living in his head, probably, but we always thought it was interesting that outside of Ruby he mostly interacts with Oz, Qrow, and now Ironwood. That's why we don't like the idea of... is it called ORNJ? It's far more likely to us to use that Penny is the new P in JNPR.

This is a lot ore novelization that we really wanted, but Oscar's scenes were all so good in Volume 7, and all we really ended up doing was adding smaller bits to the front or back of a scene to pad it out, make a point, or pretend we had anything to do with the magnificence of those moments.

Without Oz in his head we finally get to see what kind of person Oscar is: shy, yes, but also just as compassionate and empathetic as Oz and Ruby, and that gives him a wisdom that people like Ironwood just don't possess. It was nice.

Highlights for us are the tea set, Qrow in the limo - short as it is - and the idea that Oscar isn't used to fighting and using aura at the same time. He hasn't really run any marathons yet until this sequence, and we played. More on that later, though.

Next chapter: Ozpin needs therapy. Like, is there anyone in Remnant qualified for the level of intervention this poor guy needs?