Superweapon Surprise

Ozsomethingorother stared into his empty bottle and sighed. All out of whiskey, even the cheap stuff was gone. Grumbling, he tossed the bottle away, aiming for a trashcan in the distance, but with his drunkenness and decaying skill, missed by a mile and the glass bottle shattered against the wall instead.

Oh, how the mighty had fallen. Anyone looking at him now would only see a washed up good for nothing drunk. Nobody would ever make the connection between him and the legendary hero he once was, or the man who nearly became king of the world alongside Salem.

"Salem…" Oz's mouth curled into a snarl.

This was all her fault. She got humanity annihilated, she became a half Grimm abomination and she was now trying to destroy the world just to spite him. Bitterness welled up inside, with the Grimm at her command, total resurrective immortality and all of her old magic at hand, she was invincible.

Even if he fought her head on, he'd kill her a bunch of times, get exhausted then she'd return the favour. Then a few years go by, he came back in a new host and they repeated the cycle. Bullshit was what it was.

Stupid gods and their loopholeless punishments. Oz paused, turning to stare at the staff next to him. One of the relics left by the gods, it had the power to create any one thing its user desired. But as soon as they tried making anything else, whatever was already created would vanish. A ridiculous and pointless drawback… or was it?

"Ambrosius." Oz summoned the spirit of the staff.

"Hello, do you have something you want created?"

"Mmm… can you make me a mountain? One shaped like a middle finger?" Oz asked.

"…I can of course, is… is that all you want?" Ambrosius frowned.

"Yes, yes that will do. Make me one of those." Oz smiled despite feeling just as shitty as he was fifteen minutes ago. Salem was about to have her entire day ruined, and misery loved company.

"Haaah… alright, where would like your mountain to go?"

"I would like you to make Mt Fuck You in the air, a mile above Salem's head. Could you orientate it so that when it lands, it'll land upright?" Oz said.

"Haaah… consider it done."

Salem sighed and reclined in her throne. Her control over the Grimm continued to improve every day and she'd finally managed to start shaping them into something resembling an army. But at the end of the day, most Grimm were nothing more than mindless beasts, barely able to follow even the simplest of commands.

Staring out the window of her throne room in the direction of inhabited lands, Salem debated the merits of seeking out more human or faunus subordinates. Sure, without magic and having to deal with the pesky thing called aging, their use would be limited and she'd have to replace them frequently.

But still, even a dimwit would be an improvement over most of the Grimm she had… and probably make for a better conversation partner too. She had grand plans damn it, but with Ozma gone and surrounded by things largely too dumb to understand anything beyond 'kill this' or 'kill that', there was nobody around to share her brilliance with.

"Hmm… maybe I should go into town and do some magic again. People tend to start worshipping when I do… did it just get darker?" Salem frowned when a shadow suddenly fell over her castle and the lands beyond.

She was halfway out of her throne when the ceiling caved in and squashed her flat, dead before she even realised what hit her.

Resurrecting outside in a daze, Salem looked about in confusion. Her curse would respawn her near wherever she died as long as it wouldn't instagib her, but now she was miles away from her castle, standing in the mud of the countryside.

Turning around, she stared at where her castle should have been slack jawed. It was gone, all gone. Replaced with a mountain that hadn't been there before, one shaped like a fist with the middle finger sticking up into the heavens.

An insult to the gods? Maybe. But given it was facing her and its sudden appearance, there was only one son of a bitch on the planet who could have done this to her. Salem shuddered, feeling the angry roar building up inside until it hit critical mass and she exploded like a volcano.

"OZMAAAAAAA!"

"Oh… this chemistry thing is actually pretty interesting." Oz flipped through the pages of a textbook he found in a bookstore. As a warrior who relied on his cane and magic, the sciences never really interested him before, especially with them being so underdeveloped back then.

But now, humans had come a long way and this simple textbook had all sorts of interesting tidbits inside. Like how dropping some metals into water could cause an explosion, fun stuff. Especially interesting was the warnings section, on what mishandling certain toxic chemicals could do to the unwary.

"Dimethylmercury… fatal in just a few drops on the skin… wow, you don't even need to drink this poison? Ahahahahaha!" Oz cackled to himself, drawing a few strange looks from other customers.

Oz practically skipped the rest of his way home, textbook in hand. Slamming the door behind him, he retrieved his favourite relic. "Ambrosius, I have something I need you to make."

The blue spirit of the staff emerged and sighed upon seeing Oz standing there with an expectant expression. "Is it time to make a new Mt Fuck You? This is the… four hundredth and fifty third one I think."

"No no, I have something else in mind today." Oz shook his head and Ambrosius perked up, eager to make something other than vulgar monuments for once.

"Very well, what do you wish for?"

"Make it rain dimethylmercury on Salem, would you? Have it start right over her head, give her a nice shower for a hmm… make it an hour straight. Gotta make sure it works." Ozpin said.

The smile slowly slid from Ambrosius's face. "You… want me to make it rain? That's… that's it!?"

"Yes, that will be all, thank you." Oz nodded and the spirit's shoulders slumped.

"Very well, it is done."

Salem stretched, feeling exhausted after another day of wrangling Grimm. It wasn't easy but she managed to get a small cabal of people to join her in her crusade against Ozma. But thus far, planning any sort of action against him had to take a back seat while she kept the Grimm in line.

'Don't eat slash kill the help'. It wasn't hard, a really simple command that literally involved doing nothing. Yet somehow it seemed like every time she took her eyes of her minions, they would go to war with one another.

To be perfectly honest, she didn't mind a little conflict here and there, it helped keep them sharp. But having to replace entire wings of her castle after a single afternoon nap got old real fast.

"Soon, we'll be ready to strikAAHGH!" Salem screamed as it suddenly rained on her parade. A massive downpour soaked her instantly and no matter where she tried to run the rain followed. In the end it took creating a magic barrier right on her skin itself to keep the rain out.

But by then, she was soaked and miserable. The magic downpour not stopping for a solid hour and drenching everything around her just made things ever worse.

Ozma did this, she was sure of it. Till now she had no idea how he was doing it but the Brothers knew she was sick of it. At least there wasn't another mountain being dropped on her again.

But as the days passed and mercury poisoning kicked in, she changed her mind on it. After a long period of agony and nothing her magic could do to fix herself, Salem growled and raised a shaking hand to her temple, firing a bolt of lightning through her own skull.

Better to die by her own hand and respawn than wait for Ozma's treacherous attack to slowly take its toll.

"Eat slowly or you'll choke on a fishbone." Oz admonished his… well his host's children. He'd come to accept the situation and start working with his hosts, their families were his family now and watching the children grow into their own did leave a warm feeling inside that he thought he'd never feel again.

Although speaking of choking on fishbones.

"Ambrosius."

"Yes?" Came the tired sigh.

"Make me a nice sharp fishbone inside Salem's throat, thank you."

"Haaaah… it will be done."

"Those silver eyed warriors continue to be a pain in the neck, they have to be removack!" Salem choked in the middle of giving orders to her subordinates.

Something was stuck in her throat and she couldn't cough it up or dig it out with her fingers. And the more she struggled, the worse it got until she keeled over coughing up blood.

Right before dying again, she finally managed to hack it up, an innocuous fishbone of all things.

'Damn you Ozma!'

"Mm… the Brother's were more of the instant disintegration than fiery Armageddon type." Oz paused in the middle of transcribing a tale of the brother gods. There were some truths to the legend but some inaccuracies too, probably to spice up the story.

"Eh, burning sinners alive in the flames of hell is suitably poetic I suppose. Ambrosius!"

"Yes? What is it this time?" The spirit didn't even bother sighing anymore.

"Make me fire, lots and lots of really, really hot fire! All around Salem. Burn the witch until she's well done. Thank you."

"Haaaah…"

Salem's followers watched in horrified silence as their master spontaneously combusted. One moment she was delivering a speech promising them greatness, the next she was screaming as she was immolated.

They scattered immediately. Clearly this was a sign from the true gods that Salem was a false idol and not the goddess she proclaimed herself as.

And for her blasphemous boasts, hell itself had come to claim her.

By the time Salem respawned again, her castle was a burnt-out ruin and all of her followers had vanished. Even her loyal Grimm had been reduced to ashes in the wind.

"OZZZZZZMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAA!"

"Ambrosius."

"Yes?"

"I think it's time for a classic. Get me one Mt Fuck You over Salem. The usual."

"Of course, Mt Fuck You number two thousand eight hundred and eighty-six coming right up."

"OOOOOOOOZZZZZZZZZMMMMMMMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

As decades turned into centuries, Salem found herself on the receiving end of countless 'surprise gifts' from her ex-husband.

There was no rhyme or reason to what kind of attack she'd suffer from or how often they'd come. Sometimes she'd get a mountain dropped on her every day for a week straight, other times she'd get a reprieve of a few months, then a flood of acid to melt her down to her bones.

For the long-suffering queen of the Grimm, there was only one certainty, she could dread it, she could run from it, torment arrived all the same. It was inevitable, just as the sun would rise in the morning, so would its rays bring another day of paranoid waiting until Ozma made his move.

Salem looked up tiredly as a giant, boxy metal thing appeared in front of her throne. She sighed and closed her eyes already knowing what to expect. "I will make you pay for this Ozma, even if it's the last thing I do. I swear it!"

The bomb detonated in a brilliant flash, consuming Salem, her castle and everything for miles around.

Again.