Chapter Forty-Two: The Cycle
Another blow. Another muffled snap.
Another grunt. He no longer had voice left to cry out.
Some passage of time on the floor. Counting each breath and trying to steady a rapid, pounding heart.
The rattling of his coat buttons. Faint, blurred images of the red walls and black ceiling as he was dragged along the ground.
An unfamiliar room. It looked the same as all the others, but had no ornate seat for the queen.
Oscar took a moment to gain his bearings. He rose to sit, but could barely even hold up his upper body, forcing himself to lean on the bloody -possibly organic- wall behind him. His right eye was swollen and puffy, leaking tears and constantly smelling of salt… and iron, with a few patches of dried blood caught in the mess, some of it still dribbling down his forehead.
When he'd briefly clashed with Hazel at Haven Academy, Oscar had felt how powerful the brute of a man was. He'd felt pain when Hazel punched Qrow and Oscar went flying right along with him. These little reminders Hazel left him with now…
...he was holding back. No doubt because Salem insisted Oscar be kept alive, at least until they gleamed some useful information from him. Hazel may have seemed like he'd lost control of his fervent rage, but he'd been constantly pulling his punches.
It'd prolong the process. If Salem hesitated to indulge in this… torture then she probably wasn't pushing her offensive on Atlas yet. Oscar wasn't sure exactly how much time had passed since he arrived, but at the very least he'd given them a few hours.
As for himself…
His Aura was slowly recovering, but he didn't know how long Salem would grant him reprieve. Hazel tore through his defenses so easily that all Oscar could hope for was for his Aura to patch a few cuts and bruises before the brute opened them back up again.
What Hazel and Salem didn't know was that this pain was much lesser than one he'd already learned to live with; one he still carried with him from time to time. A cold that could still ensnare him, when memories overlaid on action, when past and present echoed with one another.
Salem knew that pain too. She had no choice but to remember it: it was the entire reason she wanted the gods to return and judge her. She wanted to die so she could have some possible hope of reuniting with the ones she'd lost. Hazel constantly tried to block his own memories, unable to see the sister who wanted to be a Huntress; only ever seeing the child taken before her time.
Both of them lonely, lashing out at the man they blamed. Neither of them ever realizing he wore his weakness plainly. They hadn't thought to look for it, to believe that the latest incarnation of the wizard would have lived long enough to know some echo of the same pain they had.
Oscar's heart rate had finally steadied. His blood had finally stopped flowing, though he still tasted unpleasant copper with each ragged breath. Even leaning against the wall, he had some difficulty keeping himself upright. Though he wasn't sure slumping down any further would be any more restful...
He had to remain awake: had to strategize, had to think. If Salem had delegated this task to Hazel, what was she doing in the meantime? And had she ordered Hazel to get this information from him, or was the torture some sort of twisted reward - a bone thrown for his loyal service? It didn't seem like Salem to reward someone after failing her, as he had at Haven…
But then again, Salem could hardly be bothered by the fates of her subordinates. She hadn't seemed too bothered by Cinder Fall's death, nor had she mentioned the other two of her minions she sent to destabilize Atlas. Maybe Salem simply wanted Hazel to beat Oscar because he had the strong hands to do so.
As he slumped further onto the ground, Oscar mumbled something… some curious inquiry. When had he come to learn so much about Salem and her inner circle?
Was it about to happen? Would he pass into unconsciousness… and not wake? Would the boy he was finally cease to be and all these new thoughts be his own, and not-
Up, Oscar.
Not-
This isn't the time to wait. Salem has gifted us a rare opportunity.
"...Ozpin…?"
Neo continued to wear her smile, appearing confident; even eager. She wanted to draw Salem in with anticipation… all the better to make her believe the lie.
Neo shook her head. She may have fooled Oscar, but she was not so deep in his confidence. She simply didn't have reason to fear Salem's wrath over something she hadn't realized the witch would expect her to know.
Salem kept her gaze fixed on Neo, reading her, searching her for any sign of deceit. Neo was tempted to activate her Semblance to make her appearance static, but she didn't want to give Salem any tells at all. This woman was no doubt used to everyone being afraid to meet her eye when she commanded their attention. Neo knew what it was for someone to be afraid to look at her...
But would Salem respect Neo's lack of fear or see the danger of being undermined? Would she still uncover the lie, even if it wasn't spoken aloud?
"I see…" Salem mused, turning her gaze back to the lamp, looking at the dull glass. "Well, that is unfortunate… but I'm sure you have some other useful information for me that might… expedite this process." Salem turned her attention back to Neo. "What do you know of him? What can you tell me that would unnerve and destabilize my Ozma?"
Neo raised an eyebrow. She lifted both her arms in a shrug.
"Do not be coy," Salem firmly instructed, almost snapping at her. "What can you tell me about him?"
Neo pointed to her throat. A very blunt reminder of her limitations.
She worked around them with Oscar. But she very much doubted Salem would bother to make an effort. Asking her to look at a screen would probably only try her patience further.
"Yes, right," Salem nodded, before taking a moment's pause… and composing herself once again. "Then show me something instead. Show me how you tricked him and how you gained his confidence."
Neo considered it. Salem had some sort of incredible power, but Neo didn't know exactly what the limits of her magic were. Was she only able to attack with it? Or could it be malleable; used in other, more creative ways?
Though Salem's question did give Neo cause to wonder… what if?
Oscar's plan had no real exit strategy. If his friends were able to finish their evacuation, they'd take their city in the sky higher up and out of reach. Raven Branwen might eventually be able to recover him, or they could escape on the Atlesian ship…
But Salem's anger at him made her hard to predict. She feigned an air of regal authority and composure, but beneath it…
What if she lost her grip and pushed things too far? What if while she searched for her answers in reactivating a powerless trinket, she damaged Oscar beyond repair?
And what if she turned that anger elsewhere?
Neo raised her index finger and gently waved it in the air. She activated her Semblance, casting an image of Oscar over herself, before quickly reverting to her usual appearance. Salem looked on, skeptical, but didn't interrupt.
Neo could craft the story as she wished. But the truth was easy enough to remember, and she saw little reason to alter it.
Over herself she cast the illusion of Nora Valkyrie, the girl whose face Neo wore night after night. They made for fond memories, perhaps, but only because she could shed her disguise in the dark and enjoy Oscar without the burden of past or conflict.
Then Oscar, her carved memory of his confusion, replaced by a return of her intimacy, then his base, lustful wish… how honesty went through many different stages night after night. Then back to Nora, looking vulnerable, looking lonely… true for Neo, if perhaps not the girl she'd pretended to be.
"And who is this?" Salem wondered. Neo shed her illusion and shook her head. She was not done, and had so many more details to add.
Neo turned to Oscar again… before he wore his coat, back when he wore little more than a frayed shirt and patchy overalls. Back when he was of humbler means, but perhaps, even greater appetites.
The Xiao Long and the Faunus girl were both much taller than her. She wasn't sure the illusion would be as real or the facial expressions would be as clearly projected on these facsimiles as they were in Neo's own mind.
The Faunus, quiet and reserved. The Xiao Long, fiery and passionate. Neo mixed up their attire in switching back and forth… they'd had some alterations to their wardrobe since Atlas, and Neo's first thought was the Xiao Long at the inn in Mistral.
There had been so many more times, but Neo could still fondly recall the first. How Oscar helped her sleep without ever touching her… how he vexed her even then.
Salem, however, seemed much more interested now. She was not merely attentive to Neo's story; she knew these two. They were already her enemies, or at least they'd irked her enough she remembered their faces.
Neo shed the illusion and waited for Salem's reaction. The queen turned her gaze back to the dull glass of the relic, deep in thought.
"So he still wallows in such foolishness…" Salem mused. "Ozma has only just found this boy and already he has counted so many?"
Neo finally had to temper herself. Salem wouldn't notice this brief illusion as Neo made her expression appear static, concealing her briefest glare. Neo then again took the form of each woman right after the next, deftly hiding her imperfection that much better.
"Then he does have a weakness that we can exploit," Salem observed. "Very good, Neo… very good." She turned her back and headed for the door, once again looking at the dull, unreflective glass.
Showing her back so quickly… clearly Salem didn't fear any of her cabal stabbing her in the back. All that power she wielded had left her so willingly blind.
That suited Neo. Cinder underestimated her in much the same way.
Salem paused at Neo's door, turning her gaze back inside. "Once I share this little fact with him, I'll return. I'd very much like to discuss your future, Neo."
Salem would only be talking to herself. Neo would have to remember to occasionally protest one of her requests rather than simply nod along, lest Salem think her latest acquisition was too accommodating.
When Salem stepped outside the red wall reappeared, leaving Neo inside a room little better than a cell. A place to think on what she may have wrought.
She had sacrificed on Oscar's behalf. Were his former lovers so willing to do the same?
Salem's callous disregard belied a quiet, burning rage. Perhaps she would be more eager to hurt these girls than she was to torture Oscar further.
Neo sat on the bone block that served as her only piece of furniture. Once she was confident the eye of the master of the house was not upon her any longer, she'd see what else awaited her in this strange vessel… and learn just how she and Oscar would leave, when the critical moment came to do so.
"I'm afraid I have to deny your request," Ironwood flatly replied. "I granted a single ship to Oscar because he presented a sound plan to divert Salem's attention. Your suggestion is strategically unsound. Even if you fit in a larger strike force, you'd be sending several of my best Huntsmen right into Salem's hand and she would slaughter them all."
"You don't know that!" Nora protested to the general's image on her Scroll.
"I do," Ironwood argued. "Oscar is the only person Salem would humor enough not to kill for entering her home uninvited. We'd need to commit a lot more resources than we have available to retrieve him, and all we'd do is undermine his plan by turning our attention away from the evacuation."
Ironwood softened his expression. "I understand you're upset. I know it isn't an easy thing to accept, but his mind was made up. Salem's monster is holding position and her force of Grimm still haven't reached the edge of Mantle. He has succeeded in his goal and if we don't go along with it, he placed himself in Salem's captivity for nothing.
"...I have a lot of other matters to attend to," Ironwood added, turning curt. "I'm sorry, Miss Valkyrie, but I cannot spare you any more time. If you do not want to remain in conditional standby speak to Clover about assisting with the next civilian transport run on the surface. Ironwood out."
His face vanished from the screen of her Scroll. Nora clenched her fist around the metal case, squeezing hard enough to start to warp it.
Jaune gently waved at her, tentatively offering support… from a safe distance. "So he didn't go for it?"
Nora sighed. "I didn't think he would. I just… I guess I needed someone to explain it to me so I wouldn't be quite so freaked out about everything."
"Ruby didn't tell you about it?" Jaune wondered.
Nora bit her tongue... she so often did around him. "No."
"So, if we're not going to mount a rescue mission, what are we doing in the meantime?" Ren inquired.
"Well, the general did have us sent back here to recuperate," Jaune reminded them. "If you need to rest up, wait for-"
"No," Nora said again. "No, we are not going to just sit around and wait for more bad news to come our way. Ironwood said we can help with the evac and I'm going to get back down there."
"Nora, come on, you're still banged up from yesterday," Jaune reminded her.
"I'm fine," Nora snapped. "I don't need you to-"
A deep breath to steady herself. She understood why Jaune was worried: she simply wasn't used to being on the receiving end of it.
"No, you're right," Nora conceded. "But I need to do something and I'm the one who's been pushing Ironwood about Mantle and I told Oscar about the reasons why… if I just stay here and rest, that's all I'll have to think about and I know it'll just make me crazy. So come on, guys… don't just… ugh…"
She fell back into her bunk, reaching both hands up to either side of her face. She reminded herself not to break down any further: they were already worried and she had always insisted on being the strong one.
She faintly saw Ren gesture to Jaune. Jaune gave him a subtle nod and told her: "I'll talk to Clover and see if he has something for us. Something far, far away from that giant Grimm where we don't have to do too much of the heavy lifting, but something for us to help with, alright?"
Nora faintly nodded, her palms still firmly placed on either side of her face. Jaune took his cue to step out from the room. Ren moved to sit beside her in her bunk, waiting for the inevitable to force its way out.
He hadn't forgotten her tells. Where Nora found herself fumbling, confused by Ren's actions in her absence… he'd slotted right back in as soon as she returned to him.
But that was troubling in itself. When Nora started things with Oscar, Ren had turned to Ironwood's authority in providing direction, becoming increasingly distant from her, becoming harder for her to understand when before it had been so effortless. He professed he was happy for her when he was anything but.
Maybe because he knew that was what he was supposed to say. Maybe because he thought that was what she wanted to hear.
Oscar did exactly the same. He accepted her wish to be with someone else and took her embrace and wished her the best… exactly as Ren had. Then a few hours later, he went out on what he must've known would be a one-way trip into Salem's clutches.
Why? Why did this keep happening to the people she loved?
Ren. Oscar. Pyrrha.
She didn't want to think she was cursed, but Nora did wonder how much she'd missed when she'd been foolish enough to believe she'd missed nothing at all.
Nora slumped onto Ren's shoulder with a sigh. He was still there, and though perhaps still further away from her than she wished he'd be, he could still put her mind at ease. The guilt would still pang at her like a sickly cold in her chest, but she could at least believe not everything she'd done had ended poorly...
But then, things hadn't ended just yet. If Salem grew tired of humoring Oscar, or Ironwood had a change of heart about the time the evacuation was taking… so much could still go wrong and she couldn't help but feel like she had orchestrated a significant part of it by trying to be with someone she hadn't been meant to and because she'd been complicit in one lie too many…
No, she wasn't cursed. She'd done enough to earn this torment.
Nora felt Ren take her hand away from her cheek, giving her a more comfortable groove to rest upon. Tending to what wounds he knew to look for; he was well practiced at that. She finally let her other hand fall away and glanced at the door to their dorm, waiting for Jaune to return and give her something to dwell on… some reason to believe Oscar's choice had served a greater good.
Eyes up, Oscar. You're not alone.
"...so I've noticed," Oscar grumbled. He dredged himself up along the wall -as best he could with his wrists still bound- and eventually managed to stand upon shaky, rubbery legs. "What are you even-"
I was not gone, but we are very far along, Ozpin explained. Salem and Hazel staggered that: now your Aura is focused on repairing their damage, and the merge will take longer.
"Well, if I'd known that getting my Aura knocked off would slow you down I might've tried it more often," Oscar mused. "But I didn't hear you yesterday, after Cinder did her number on me..."
The Fall Maiden's magic was once my magic. Salem and Hazel's souls are their own.
"...right," Oscar nodded. "So, long as you're here, I guess you've got something to say about me putting you in this mess?"
I have a great many things to tell you, Oscar. But they will have to wait for a better time.
"Oh?"
Perhaps I should have phrased it better: we're not alone.
Oscar finally started listening to the noises outside his own head. The rumbling footsteps outside his makeshift cell… Hazel back already?
When the door receded into the walls, it was not a man who walked through… but a towering black beast, leveling its eyeless face upon him.
Salem walked in after her Hound, observing the boy standing on his unsteady feet. "Still able to stand… clearly Hazel hasn't been trying hard enough."
Oscar spared her a remark. He merely waited, doing his level best to maintain eye contact.
"No need to keep your thoughts to yourself," Salem assured him. "My Hound heard you mumbling, talking to yourself… dear Ozma offering you counsel in the face of your host and her cruelty?"
"Not yet," Oscar finally answered, still trying to focus on Salem's gaze. "Should I tell him you say 'hello?'"
"No, that won't be necessary," Salem replied. "He knows he doesn't need to bother with formality. Surely he mentioned how close we are…"
"No, he didn't, actually," Oscar replied. "When we asked the lamp a question, that was when I learned about you and him."
"Oh?" Salem wondered, raising the lamp in her left hand. "And why would you need to ask a question when you already knew the answer?"
"I didn't," Oscar defensively replied. "I didn't know that he was in love with you."
"Was," Salem harshly replied. "But then, he's had so long to move on, hasn't he? You certainly didn't waste any time…"
Oscar was given pause. What -rather, how much- did Salem know? Why would it matter at all to her what he did during the times he wasn't standing in her way?
"Your former friend showed me some very interesting things," Salem explained. "Secrets even more seductive than this relic… secrets that give me a greater advantage still." She patted the back of her beast. "Go."
The Hound approached Oscar, moving uncomfortably close with its massive snout, sniffing the air around him. Oscar could see the size of its fangs, poking out from its bone white maw…
...only for the Hound to rescind and return to its master's side. Salem patted the Grimm's head and send it on its way, ambling back into the hall.
"...why did you do that?" Oscar asked, genuinely curious.
Salem smiled sweetly as she stepped back into the hall after her pet. "Soon."
The door sealed back up behind her. Oscar waited, listening for her footsteps to fade away before seeking counsel. "What did she have that Grimm do?"
She needed your scent.
"Why?" Oscar inquired.
You may not have the answer, Oscar, but Salem seems to know you were not alone when you used the relic. Now she will seek out those who stood beside you when you did.
"What?!"
You cannot change that now, Oscar. For the moment her attention is still on the lamp and not Atlas. Now we must dwell on what can be done here and entrust the others to take care of themselves in the meantime.
"Entrust…? Ozpin, do you know what that Grimm is? Or if she'll send others?" Oscar frantically asked. "Tell me! Tell me what she'll do!"
First, what we will do. Strife exists in her cabal of allies. We can undermine her further while she is distracted with-
"Our friends," Oscar snapped. "That is what we'll focus on. I'm here because they-"
You are here because you are prepared to die, Ozpin interjected.
Another moment's pause. Oscar couldn't exactly deny that… though he didn't particularly want to give Ozpin the satisfaction of being right either.
Not the end I'd have wished for you, but you have made your choice. But you cannot simply resign yourself yet. We can further destabilize Salem while we are here.
Oscar was reluctant to ask, but he was fighting a losing battle in denying Ozpin's wits. So he reluctantly asked: "...how?"
The devotion to the one she's lost… I think there may be someone here whose goals no longer align with Salem's own.
Yang continued to idly pat her foot as she waited for their ship to descend. Blake had to constantly hear Yang's fervor in each drawn breath and her pounding heartbeat, but her stamping foot was a boot constantly slamming metal… making for a very unpleasant ride. She nonetheless attempted to wait it out, letting Yang burn through her temper before they went looking for Robyn and the Happy Huntresses.
Yang did eventually notice how Blake's ears kept shifting up and down -matching times with her stomps- and did her best to seem casual when she swung her leg back up onto her seat. Still, she offered Blake a quiet: "Sorry."
"I get it," Blake assured her. "We're… none of us are in the best place at the moment, after-"
"After Ruby snuck Oscar out behind our backs?" Yang finished for her.
Blake sighed. "Yes. After that."
"I'm just… I'm processing a lot right now," Yang admitted. "Then Ruby… I always thought I could trust Ruby; that I didn't have to worry about her ever going around me like this. I can understand why someone who didn't know me might've thought it was best to wait, but her? How can someone I've known all my life not know this?"
"How can someone you've known all her life miss the fact you had a boyfriend?" Blake innocently suggested.
Yang was given pause. It was… hard for her to refute that one. Though she still tried, nonetheless. "That's different. I was going to tell her. I was going to tell everyone. We just- things just kept spiraling out of control over and over and over again."
"And I wasn't much help there," Blake conceded. "But I do think Ruby was stuck in a situation where she didn't know what to do and just ended up doing something; I know she's had to go through that before." Blake shuffled in her seat, finding a comfortable groove. "I can… relate to that, I guess. I used to be like that.
"But in Ruby's case, it's hard for me to be angry at her," Blake continued. "She was doing what she thought was best, just like you were. It's just… now… now we know how dangerous secrets are. Now we don't have an excuse to keep making the same mistakes."
"It's different," Yang insisted.
"I agree," Blake nodded. "But you took the time to tell me what you had tried to avoid saying and I just… reacted the way I did. So I understand why Ruby might've still been trying not to have that fight."
Yang sighed. "I don't expect it from her. I don't… I don't expect it from any of us anymore."
"We're flawed, Yang," Blake reminded her. "We all made mistakes. We all kept each other in the dark about one thing or another, and it came back to bite us. Either we stay angry at each other, either we hold this grudge… or we try not to. We try to say we're sorry and move on from it."
Blake had taken the time to. Ruby… Yang had to admit she hadn't really stopped to acknowledge never apologizing to her sister for keeping Ruby in the dark about Yang's first boyfriend, first relationship… she'd been the one to insist there be no more secrets, but if she were to apply the same standards to herself…
Ruby had been the one who insisted on telling her about how Weiss felt about Oscar, because there shouldn't have been any secrets between teammates...
"I know," Yang finally admitted. "I just… I'm not ready to stop being angry with her yet. I'm… I'm angry at a lot of people for a lot of different reasons, but I'm not used to being angry at her. And today after my mom… it's a weird place to be in where I feel like I'm doing better with her than I am with my sister."
Blake nodded. "You don't get to keep that bottled up anymore. You have someone you can talk to about it now."
So many times, she'd found an excuse not to talk. In one situation after another, she'd done all she could to not think… to not hurt, when some hard truths rose to the surface.
She didn't hurt now, telling all this to Blake. No phantom aches; just a few uncomfortable grumbles from her stomach to remind her of how hastily she'd stormed out.
"Yeah," Yang nodded. "Yeah, I guess I do."
Blake settled in closer to her. Yang wrapped an arm over her shoulder.
Yang wasn't sure why, but the flight seemed much shorter after that...
Neo heard footsteps in the hallway, but nothing loud and lumbering: a much lighter gait. Either Salem had returned to her alone, or her Grimm pet was stealthier than Neo expected something so large and lumbering to be.
When the door of her makeshift room retreated into the wall, Neo immediately stood to attention. When the queen stepped inside, she seemed stoic as usual, though her hands were clasped over her front… eyes affixed on Neo, not the trinket she insisted on carrying around. Since when had Salem allowed the relic to leave her sight? Since when had she not had to pause and reflect on its dull surface?
Neo heard a clanging of metal. But if Salem hid the relic somewhere in her robe, the noise would've been softer; muted.
She engaged her Semblance and left behind her ruse. Something green emerged right from Salem's chest, attached to a length of steel chain… a curved blade flung out to dismember her would-be-subordinate, who shattered into dozens of shards of glass.
No, Salem had no need for weapons. Certainly not a sickle like this…
"Salem" remained static, unmoving, even as the sickle retreated back into her chest, pulled back by its chain. It had been a long time since Neo last saw the weapon, but she recalled the Semblance: it had been instrumental in leading to Beacon's fall.
No doubt her assailant was looking for her now. Neo had mere moments to act as what remained of her disguise faded away…
She unsheathed her blade from her parasol and moved in to drive it right through "Salem"s midsection, aiming a little lower to force her hidden foe to deflect at an angle: it'd be that much harder to focus the more she had to contort; Neo would know.
Neo heard a faint grunt as the girl staggered backwards. Not clashing weapons but simply retreating, trying to maintain her illusion.
The fool: Neo was a better listener than anyone gave her credit for. She moved to pursue, again engaging her Semblance to cast a disguise charging straight ahead, seemingly possessed by the push to counterattack… while Neo herself shifted closer to the door, to ensure her enemy couldn't retreat into the hall. It didn't matter how clever the girl's illusions were: in a small space she'd still have to stand on solid ground somewhere within Neo's range of attack.
Neo heard the scuttle of her foe's new heels. She heard the cycling of a barrel: the ranged weapon hidden by the sickle. The gunshot rang out, and Neo's second disguise shattered from the impact.
Neo found her moment, aiming her strike upwards. Her enemies would expect her to aim low -to aim where she needed no further upper body strength to aid her- and her target would be unguarded. Either she'd finally reveal herself or Neo would skewer her from ear to ear.
At long last, she shed the illusion, forced to raise her sickle and try to catch Neo's blade. The image of Salem vanished, revealing Emerald Sustrai, flushed, glaring at her.
Neo knew why she'd come. She didn't begrudge Emerald that. She only wondered what Cinder did to merit this dedication.
She gave Emerald a coy grin. Emerald's anger was too great for her illusion to mask, and she tried to attack Neo with a second sickle, forcing her to break off from their clash. If Emerald retreated into the hall, Neo would lose the advantage of the field.
Neo thought quickly on where she would retreat to when faced with a taller, stronger foe. Emerald's Semblance was not exactly the same as her own, but if she guessed incorrectly Emerald would be able to flank her and attack from a greater range with her chain and her gunshot.
Neo didn't usually bother with non-lethal options, but preventing Emerald from moving would be a much greater advantage than landing a strike. Neo opened her parasol and pushed forward, giving Emerald nowhere to move and only three walls to her back. Neo felt some resistance and saw something sag against the fabric of her parasol, but it made no difference: Emerald had been caught. Neo pushed as hard as she could and drove the girl into the wall, enjoying the sounds of her pained grunt and the loud crack. Apparently Emerald hadn't thought to engage her Aura on her back.
The fool. She was beset on all sides by enemies and she didn't expect someone to try and stab her in the back?
Neo felt her resisting, squirming against the fabric. The defense wouldn't hold for much longer, but it wouldn't need to. Her would-be-assassin had already been denied the kill. Neo, on the other hand…
If Emerald was willing to try and kill her after Salem's warning, there was no reason to assume she'd be any less bold in the future. She'd risk the wrath of someone that powerful, all for her revenge…
...giving herself up for dead? Assuming there would be no after?
Neo closed her parasol and stepped back. She couldn't see Emerald -no doubt the girl was still casting an illusion somewhere in the room- but she distinctly heard the girl land on the floor in a heap.
Neo engaged her Semblance again, just in case Emerald was still too blinded by emotion to realize she'd been outmatched. If Emerald persisted, well…
Of course she'd persist. She'd carry on each day, no matter the struggle… because the only thing that mattered to her-
More footsteps in the hall, louder than even Emerald's ragged breathing. Another set of heels, but a much more confident pace.
Emerald just appeared before her, disengaging from her illusion and quickly clamoring to her feet. Neo retracted her blade into her parasol and discarded her facsimile. She made a point to put some distance in the room between herself and Emerald, though she doubted Emerald was quite bold enough to carry on her attack right in front of the queen.
Salem stepped inside, still holding the lamp in her left hand. She cast her gaze between the two, subtly raising her eyebrow. "...I trust you two are done, whatever you've been up to."
An unsubtle warning. Salem didn't care if they carried on their fight, but she would not be forced to repeat herself.
"Y-yes," Emerald stammered. "Yes, of course."
"Good," Salem nodded. "Emerald, return to your quarters until I send for you. Neo, with me. There's something I'd like to inquire about."
Emerald was cowed, as Neo anticipated. She slunk out from the chamber with her head held low, deliberately avoiding the queen's eye. Keeping her head so close to the ground left her near to eye level with Neo, leaving her room to hold her glare.
Neo understood. So this was what it felt like to be on the other end… no wonder Cinder resented it. But just as Neo had held her nose and gone along when faced with Cinder's magical power, so too had Emerald taken her scolding when Salem reminded her who was master of the house.
She supposed she'd have to get used to it. When Neo had been where Emerald stood, she'd been ready to die, but not in any hurry to get there. She sometimes wondered why she still lingered on now that Roman's killer had joined him in the next life.
So the cycle could start again?
Neo stepped towards Salem, resting her parasol on her shoulder. Salem turned back into the hall, once again staring at the glass surface of the lamp.
They took only a few steps before Neo found herself frozen in place. Salem's massive Grimm stood, waiting for them there, peering down at her with its eyeless face. The Hound sniffed her twice, growling.
The creature was stealthier than she gave it credit for…
"So," Salem observed. "You have the boy's scent on you. How interesting…"
Neo did her utmost to stare straight ahead; to not betray any concern. But if Salem suspected what Neo thought she suspected… and now Emerald had heard the same…
"You left someone out when you showed me his weaknesses," Salem noted. "Did you think I would miss the obvious?"
Neo kept her expression neutral; even bored. She feigned indifference, letting Salem grasp at straws herself.
"So tell me, my friend," Salem wondered, finally turning her eye away from the relic, "Whatever does this Oscar mean to you?"
Qrow had been expecting Ironwood to activate him far sooner. But despite being woken up early to oversee Oscar's transport, he'd had surprisingly little work to do. Clover was coordinating the remaining evac sites and search and rescue, Ironwood was working to get the military craft back in formation… there didn't seem to be much call for specialized work at the moment.
When the general summoned him, Qrow was wary. He'd welcome some break from the monotony and inactivity -the days had just seemed longer lately- but he did wonder what James needed. His nieces told him Ironwood seemed to be going back and forth on prematurely raising Atlas into the upper atmosphere, but while the Grimm held their position he was willing to go along. Their alliance had become increasingly tenuous in the past few days… though that seemed to be a bigger problem for the kids. He was used to James being wound too tightly.
Still, in his office and at his terminal, the general was frantic. Qrow would be surprised if James had slept at all in the past two days… maybe he'd be fortunate and this meeting would be short.
"Qrow, good," Ironwood waved him over. "I needed to ask you about a… sensitive matter." He turned his attention back to his terminal, typing up a few words and dispatching an order, then linking his terminal with his Scroll… completing a few more tasks before giving Qrow his full attention.
"What's going on?" Qrow asked.
"Watts, Tyrian, and Jacques have all been accounted for," Ironwood explained. "Cinder Fall is dead. Neopolitan -loathe as I am to say it- at least isn't an immediate concern for us. But we do still have one unstable element to consider among our ranks."
Qrow put the pieces together before James said it. No wonder the general asked specifically for him. "Raven."
Ironwood nodded. "From what you and Ruby told me she assisted Salem in her infiltration at Haven. She may have turned on them after their alliance served its purpose, but that doesn't put my mind at ease. Instead it begs the question… why should we assume the same won't happen to us?"
Qrow thought on it. She was his sister and -try as he might- he wasn't quite able to forget that. He could curse her name, condemn her, disown her… but they were only words. She would always be his twin, for better or worse.
But Raven was also true to her nature. Here only for her daughter, whom Ironwood had just given permission to send down to the surface. The number of allies Raven had there could already be counted on one hand… so if anything happened to Yang…
"Yeah, I get you," Qrow affirmed. "She's… she's not here for any of us. She may have said she came here because Tai asked her to, but until I hear it from him..."
He let Ironwood draw his own conclusion. But instead, the general asked him: "So, what would you do?"
Qrow wasn't quite sure where James was leading him, so he decided to feel things out. "What would you do?"
Ironwood pulled up his Scroll, showing Qrow security footage of the holding cells: three of which held the dangerous prisoners Arthur Watts, Tyrian Callows, and Jacques Schnee; one of which remained empty. "I think Salem is waiting because she may decide to attack from within. And there's still one person here I know to have been her agent in the past.
"I'm asking you because you know her best and you have more reason than anyone not to trust her," Ironwood elaborated. "I understand the necessity of some… difficult partnerships, but I want you to tell me:
"Is she worth the trouble?"
Oscar heard her approaching in the hall again. He glanced down at his legs, holding him upright a little better than before: his Aura was patching up the damage Hazel left. Something had distracted Salem long enough to delay the resumption of her little torture regimen… but he suspected that was about to change.
But when Salem stepped inside, she wasn't flanked by Hazel or the Grimm Hound: she was only looking at the Relic of Knowledge, still fixated on a power she could not possess. Oscar took some solace in thinking Salem was no closer.
"Before I take my next step, I wanted to ask you one final time," Salem informed him, meeting his gaze again. "Tell me the password. Tell me, and I will be merciful."
"Merciful?" Oscar scoffed, gesturing to the dried blood and puffed skin lining his face.
"Not to you," Salem clarified.
Oscar thought on it. Ozpin, however, was already there: She's going to start her attack. We need to stall her; we need to turn her attention back to us.
"I told you already," Oscar reminded her: "All the lamp's questions have been used up."
Either she'd finally realize he'd been telling her the truth and be forced to change tactics, or still believe he was lying and turn her wrath back upon him. If he continued to defy her, she'd at least take the time to vent her frustrations at him a while longer.
But instead, Salem chuckled. "So we play this game… very well, then." She lowered the relic, nestling it into her robe. "Fortunately, someone else provided me much more information…"
Oscar could guess. "She doesn't know as much as she thinks she does."
"Oh, no?" Salem wondered. "She told me what I expected of you… but then, none of your previous lives were ever very discreet. You all suffered the same weakness, and at long last you will see the fruits of your labor."
"I do not know all their names, but I know their faces now," Salem explained. "Neo was kind enough to show them to me, and you were kind enough to give my Hound your scent."
"...what did you do?" Oscar asked her.
"I told my Hound to find them," Salem gleefully replied. "To find each of your lovers and break them; tear them down to the very edge of their lives, then bring them back here to me." Salem drew close to him, lowering her head to be at eye level. "The girl who lost her arm. The Faunus girl with the amber eyes. The little redhead in pink."
Oscar could not hide his response. He could not pretend to be defiant when he realized what Salem had done… what he had done.
"Those who survive the trip back here I'll place before my throne," Salem promised him. "Then I'll ask you again, until you tell me the truth. Until you finally understand that I will not be lied to in my own house."
Oscar shed any pretense and frantically tried to plead his case. "I'm not lying! I accidentally used the last question just a few days before now! I brought it to you because I knew you wouldn't be able to use it!"
"So you lied to me then or you lie to me now?" Salem wondered.
"I never lied to you!" Oscar protested. "I'm not the man you think I am!"
"We will see," Salem assured him. "Because if they are anything like Neo, they will be strong enough to survive my Hound's grip… for a while, anyway."
"Neo…?" Oscar wondered.
His scent… Neo would-
"You'll see your lovers again, dear Oscar," Salem promised. "And when they are here, you will decide whom among them you care to save… or you will listen to every last one of them die at my hand knowing they died because of you. Perhaps Ozpin's heart is hardened enough to bear it… but is yours?"
"Salem…" Oscar desperately began, only for Salem to scoff and turn her attention away from him. She waved her hand and Oscar heard booming footsteps as Hazel lumbered in.
"Leave him conscious," Salem commanded. "So that he might think about what he's done."
Hazel gruffly nodded. Oscar dropped to his knees, pressing his head to the ground. "Salem, please…"
He saw only Hazel's boots. Salem stepped out from the room.
When Hazel's foot struck Oscar's chin and he slammed into the wall, he heard another sound amidst the breaking of his Aura and the jolt in his back. A promise from his captor…
"Soon."