Back from the Future

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story. All references to RWBY belong to Monty Oum and Rooster Teeth. I promise to put all the characters back in their proper places when I'm done playing with them.

Author: Phoenixqueen

Beta Reader: TrashyInferno

Summary: Oscar and Oz are captured by the Hound and brought to Salem. After being interrogated by Hazel, and refusing to give up information on the Beacon Relic or the Lamp, Oscar begins to wonder what will happen to him when Salem gets tired of his refusal to answer her questions. Oz begins to worry for his young partner and wants to get him to safety. In a desperate gamble, Oz draws on his remaining magic to try to protect Oscar - but when mingled with Salem's magic... something unexpected results.

Two years previously, Professor Ozpin is quietly working in his office when he receives an unexpected visitor - a badly wounded boy. But this boy has an incredible story and a chance to do what Ozpin has thus far been unable to accomplish - complete his mission from the God of Light - if he can convince Ozpin and his inner circle to believe him.

Characters: Ruby Rose, Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladonna, Yang Xiao-Long, Jaune Arc, Nora Valkyrie, Lie Ren, Pyrrha Nikos, Oscar Pine, Professor Ozpin, Glynda Goodwitch, Qrow Branwen, Raven Branwen, James Ironwood, Salem, Cinder Fall, Mercury Black, Emerald, Hazel Reinhart, Arthur Watts, Roman Torchwick, Neopolitan, Tyrian Callows

Relationships: Ozma / Salem (past), Taiyang Xiao-Long / Raven Branwen (past), Taiyang Xiao-Long / Summer Rose (past), Blake Belladonna / Sun Wukong, Jaune Arc / Pyrrha Nikos, Ruby Rose / Oscar Pine, Ozpin & Oscar Pine, Team RWBY, Team JNPR

Works Which Inspired This One:Soul of Love and Bravery by ShadowSnowdapple, Defining a Life: Scars on the Soul and Who Will You See, There in The Darkness by MirrorandImage, Lost Parallax by Nunonon, Rescue Me by TrashyInferno.

Author's Notes: I am going to be posting this to both my account and my AO3 account.


Chapter One: When Magic Collides

To Oz's deep disappointment, Mantle was… not what it had once been. In the wake of the Great War, the northernmost kingdom had had its share of troubles: the loss of so many lives on the battlefields, the increasing levels of fear which had only attracted Grimm, the food and Dust rationing… All of it proved that the whole reason for the war had been pointless to start with. It was one of the reasons why his last incarnation before becoming Ozpin had come up with the idea of lifting the new city of Atlas into the sky, once it had become apparent that Atlas could thrive where Mantle was beginning to fail.

'A home in the clouds is about as bright as it gets'. Thanks to Oscar's recent memories, Oz could remember Maria saying that upon their arrival in the Kingdom. She hadn't been wrong, but clearly over the intervening years, things hadn't gone the way that he had planned when he had been Ozora, the inventor who had proposed raising Atlas high as a sign that the Kingdom was going to endure, despite losing the Great War.

But now…

"It should not be this hard just getting people to cooperate," Oscar muttered from where he was steering the hoverbike, guarding the rear of the group.

And yet, it is something that I am becoming increasingly concerned about, Oz replied softly, carefully. He knew he was still on thin ice where Oscar was concerned, but they needed to start rebuilding their relationship moving forward.

"You know, I really don't need your additional commentary right now." Oscar's tone was depressed, and more than a little bitter when he replied.

You all have every right to be upset, especially you, Oscar, Oz said. He had made so many mistakes over his many lives, and with the benefit of hindsight, he regretted every single one of them. But by far the worst mistake he had made in recent memory was running away into a self-imposed exile once his students had confronted him that day in the snow. He had abandoned all of them at what was possibly the worst time ever, and he knew that it would take time to regain Oscar's trust – assuming that he even could.

After realizing exactly what the nature of his ability to reincarnate meant, there had been more than one lifetime when he'd viciously cursed the God of Light for offering this to him, especially after a significant defeat or loss. Over time, however, the number of lives that he'd spent mourning his fate had decreased and his mindset had changed to one of weary resignation – all he could do was accept whatever role he found himself in with each new incarnation and move forward. But when he had realized that his most recent partner was a child… never had he wanted to curse the Brothers more. A child had no business getting involved in this shadow war, and now the Brothers had thrown Oscar into something he was wholly unprepared for.

I'm sorry I left you.

"I'm not upset that you left. I'm upset that you came back."

That… hurt.

Oh, there had been times in the past when his partners had despised him for upending their lives, even though he had no control over who he bonded with. Over time, usually, that derision and anger tended to fade as their souls slowly merged and his partners came to understand the gravity of the situation and the war that he was fighting. In those cases, Oz would simply remain quiet and dormant, interfering as little as possible unless his partner specifically spoke to him, giving them time to accept what had happened.

But then… he had never had a partner like Oscar – a confused child who had uprooted his entire existence to follow the instructions of a disembodied voice in his head, only to be – from his perspective – abandoned as soon as things started to get difficult.

"I started to feel like me. Not the same me I was before all of this… but the me I always wanted to be. I felt… like I was actually part of the team, and not just a tagalong whose only value was being your host."

I understand. And oh, did he understand Oscar's feelings, even without the bond between them that allowed them to feel what the other was feeling. But how to explain that to him? The hardest part of acclimating to a new life, a new partner was knowing what to say and when to say it. But even though it may not have felt like I was with you, I was never truly gone. You're gaining control of my remaining magic, recollecting my longest-held memories. Which means…

He didn't want to say it. Oscar had made his views on the matter perfectly clear since the first moment that Oz had spoken to him.

Which means our two souls are still on the… inevitablepath to becoming one.

"But… I don't want that."

Neither do I.

It was the simple truth, after all. If he'd had any control over whom he bonded with when he entered a new incarnation, he wouldn't have chosen Oscar. Not because Oscar wasn't valuable or a worthy soul – he was – but because of his age.

We need to find a way to work together. Not just the two of us… all of us. He paused for a moment, thinking about how to word what he needed to say. Oscar… I know that this hasn't been easy for you since we were first bound together. Please know that there are so many things I wish I had done differently since that moment.

Oscar was quiet for so long that Oz would have held his breath if he'd still had a body that could breathe without requiring him to take control of his partner's. "Like what?"

I have lived so many different lives, Oscar. I've been rich, poor, and middle-class. I've been a King and a slave, a Faunus and a human. I've married and had children, and I've lived alone as a veritable hermit. But in all of my many incarnations, I have never been paired with someone who wasn't already an adult. You are the youngest partner I've ever had. Before you, Ozpin was the youngest person I had ever paired with, and he was twenty the first time I spoke with him. I don't know why the Brothers chose you, now, at this time. I wish I did. I wish I had some say in the matter of my reincarnations – but that is the nature of a curse, I suppose.

"That doesn't explain anything about what you would have done differently," Oscar's tone was still slightly bitter.

I… if I could go back and know the events that would bring us to this point, I would have trusted you more.

Oscar's breath caught a little. "W-what?"

I've lived for thousands of years, Oscar, and lived every kind of life you can imagine. Until you, I had come to accept that whatever I became in my next incarnation… whomever I was paired with…had been chosen for me for a reason. Perfect memory seems to be an aspect of my curse that I wish I didn't have. At will, I can remember any moment from any of those lives that I choose to.

"What does that have to do with me?"

Until you, I had always been content to learn about my new life and my new partner and allow events to play out as they may and continue my work to stop Salem no matter what role I found myself in. I… I rushed with you. I am certain that Beacon's fall could have been prevented if I had had the right information, made the right decisions. Losing control of the Fall Maiden's powers to one of Salem's minions, the destruction of the CCTS tower at Beacon – those were dangerous plays of a type that Salem has never made before, and I didn't take the time I should have to ease you into things and allow you to make up your own mind, free of any pressure from me.

"I still don't understand."

I said that I have perfect memory of all of my past lives – and you will too, one day. It is hard enough dealing with those memories myself… the last thing that I wanted to do was burden a child with them – the battles I've fought, the loved ones I've seen die in my arms at Salem's hands, the many, many, times that she has killed me, watching everything I've built and loved being torn down around me…

Please don't misunderstand… there have been good memories as well. Memories of my wives and children around me. Quiet dinners with trusted friends and allies, waking in the pre-morning hours to watch a Vacuo sunrise… the satisfaction of accomplishment when a long-term project has come to completion…

Oscar was still silent, clearly thinking about his words. Tentatively, Oz pushed forward a little more.

I always intended to share everything with you, Oscar. I couldn't have avoided it, since you will eventually have these memories no matter what I do. But… you were already so frightened and anxious about leaving your farm, about my presence in your mind. I wanted to protect you as much as I could, to try to ease you into things. That is what I usually do with my partners, but… well, Salem's attack on Beacon forced my hand.

I wasn't hiding things from you, Team RWBY, and Qrow because I was being cruel. I was hiding them because they were painful, and most of you are still children. I never wanted to get children involved in my war with Salem. All of you – even Qrow to an extent, despite the things he's done in my service – are still so innocent. You didn't need to bear my burdens yet.

"But it was still lying to us," Oscar whispered. "You were still keeping back information that we should have had."

Yes, I was – because I care about all of you. All of you are still young enough to see hope in all situations… to believe that even in the darkest moments, good can still triumph over evil. I'm so much older than you, and I know truths that none of you were ready to comprehend. Sometimes the darkness wins, and people die. Sometimes the only thing that the light can do is delay the darkness for a while. I've been locked in a stalemate with Salem for millennia – can you honestly tell me that you were ready to know the sordid details of my past?

"I… I don't know," Oscar admitted quietly. He fell silent, lost in his own thoughts, and Oz let him be, making a conscious effort not to eavesdrop on the boy's thoughts. Rebuilding the trust that had been broken between them was going to take more time and effort than a single conversation could fix.


Oscar was tired. It had been so long since he'd gotten any rest, but with Salem's forces waiting just outside the Kingdom's walls, the only thing that they could do was keep pushing forward, trying to save as many of the people of Mantle as they could. The last thing he wanted to think about was Oz and the pending soul merger with the old wizard.

But at the same time, thinking about the things that Oz had said was better than dwelling on the fact that the General had shot him, or about the fact that Salem had a significant advantage over them, or that her plans thus far had worked perfectly. Yes, they'd thwarted her at Haven, but she had succeeded at Beacon, and right now it seemed as if she were on track to win in Atlas as well.

It was easier to be mad at Oz, to blame him for the situation that they found themselves in, than to admit that he was scared. He was only fifteen years old, and he had found himself thrust into a war that he hadn't even known existed, all because of some kind of divine or cosmic destiny that he didn't even believe in. There wasn't time for gods or religion when he had been on the farm with his aunt – just tending to the animals and their small fields of crops, making sure that they produced enough to get by year after year. They couldn't hope for huge harvests when it was just Oscar and Aunt Em to tend to everything, after all.

But even more than Salem, even more than the idea of the gods coming back to judge humanity, the thing that scared him most was Oz. Not the man – soul? – himself, of course. Oz had been nothing but kind and patient with him, and the only time he'd ever done anything explicitly against Oscar's wishes had been during the battle of Haven, when he'd forcefully taken control to fight Hazel. It was the idea that they were merging – that they were going to become one. More than anything, Oscar feared being erased – no longer being himself, his personality subsumed under the more powerful, dominating personality that was Oz. The wizard had tried to explain it, but nothing he had said had really helped Oscar to understand what was going to happen, and he'd been too afraid to discuss it with Oz, because he'd always had the sense that Oz was hiding something from him where the merger was concerned.

Now, having seen Jinn's vision and learning about Oz's past, he was beginning to question that assumption. Had Oz been hiding something about the merger, or had he simply been hiding his past to try to protect Oscar? It was hard to tell – Oz was exceptionally good at keeping control of his thoughts and feelings the majority of the time. The only time his feelings had slipped had been that day in the snow when, verbally and emotionally assaulted on all sides by RWBY, his stress levels had been pushed to their breaking point and Oscar had gotten that tiny glimpse of the truth about Jinn and the lamp. But even he hadn't known what Jinn would reveal when Ruby had asked that damning question.

The months that he had spent with Oz locked away in his own mind, slowly watching the General fall apart – the daily training sessions to try to "bring Oz back", being told over and over again that it was Ozpin's advice that Ironwood wanted – none of that had given Oscar a great opinion of his own self-worth with the General, even though teams RWBY and JNR had embraced him as one of them once they had a chance to get past their anger with Oz. But now that Oz was back – would that change? Would Oz be welcome, or would the fact that he had returned from his exile only make Oscar a pariah with the group again?

He knew Oz was right – the two of them would have to find a way to work together in harmony, and soon. Salem was making her move, and she wouldn't retreat without a long, hard fight. It was possible that Oz was the only one who stood a chance of finding a way to push her back again, and he wouldn't be able to work effectively if he were at odds with everyone. But before he could try to make amends with the rest of their group, he and Oscar would have to make amends with each other – to convince Ruby and the others to give Oz a chance, they would have to be united in purpose, or they would only end up undercutting each other.


Despite the grumbling of the citizens that they were helping, they successfully managed to escort them all safely to the crater, thanks to the combination of Mr. Arc's and Mr. Ren's Semblances, which was one relief. Oz continued to remain quiet, using Oscar's senses to try to get an idea of what had been happening while he'd kept himself locked away in the boy's mind. When the Huntresses asked their small group to deal with some Grimm that had been moving in, Oz wasn't surprised to hear them all agree – after all, save for Oscar, that was what they had all enrolled at Beacon to do.

Racing through the streets on the back of a hover-bike with the Grimm in close pursuit wasn't exactly standard procedure for a Grimm hunt, but considering who the Huntsmen were in this case, it also didn't surprise him either. He'd always known Ms. Xiao-Long to be a thrill-seeker, and Team JNPR had always had a head-first approach to their training while at Beacon.

"Okay, Fiona, that's one more problem taken care of," Ms. Xiao-Long said into their comms.

"Good, because we're getting reports of more Grimm coming in from the west. The Huntsmen there could really use some backup."

A long, tired sigh met that information. 'Okay, we're on our way."

This isn't good, Oz said softly. Right now it may only be a few stragglers, but eventually Salem will bring all of her forces to bear on Mantle and Atlas. The fear and negativity will only make things worse, and if everyone is too exhausted to fight…

"It's all the negativity. Salem's forces aren't moving in, but it's enough to start attracting the stragglers, and to wear down the defenses," Oscar relayed to the others.

"Guys," Mr. Ren warned. "We're not finished."

Further down the street, three Sabyrs were moving in at a rush, but that didn't explain the sudden sense of dread that Oz felt. Sabyrs were dangerous, yes, especially in large packs, but all of his students were more than capable of handling three of them.

"All right. We need to hurt this up and take –" Ms. Xiao-Long began, only to cut herself off in mid-sentence when all three Sabyrs skidded to a halt before turning tail and running. Something was very wrong.

"What just happened?" Mr. Ren asked.

"They… ran. I've never seen Grimm act that way before," Mr. Arc added.

Nor I. Something is very wrong, Oscar. Be on your guard.

"But what were they running fr-"

A heavy weight suddenly landed on top of Oscar, knocking him and Mr. Ren from the hover bike and to the icy ground.

Oscar!

Something seized his partner's arm and flung him through the air like a rag doll. The world spun dizzyingly as Oscar screamed, the cry cutting off abruptly as he hit the ground again. Oz felt their aura flare from the impact.

"Oscar!"

Another hit, another drain to their aura. Whatever this Grimm was, it was powerful. It was hard to focus on what was going around them, as Oscar's terror flowed freely through their bond.

One of the consequences of reincarnation – especially before the merge was complete – was a heightened sense of awareness regarding his partner's mental and emotional state. In most cases, it was useful, as it allowed Oz a better sense of how his partner was reacting to the merge and the memories that were being shared between the two of them. It allowed him to comfort his partner when his partner was sad, to provide encouragement when he felt afraid, to be more than just a ghostly voice in his partner's mind and to feel like a real person even though he didn't have a body of his own.

At times like this, however, it could also be a liability. Oscar's panic fed into Oz's emotions before Oz had a chance to clamp down and get control of his own feelings, overwhelming him and creating a feedback loop that bled back down to Oscar, which in turn increased Oscar's terror… and so on.

He felt Oscar trying to scramble out of the creature's way, but it was too fast, too strong for the boy. He fought to contain his own panic when the Grimm's paw slammed down on Oscar's chest.

Oscar! Let me have control! Oz cried, trying to stay calm, to break the loop of panic the two of them were trapped in, but also trying to impress the urgency of his need to have control on Oscar. The boy wasn't a fully trained Huntsman yet – he wouldn't have the mental fortitude to endure the sort of punishment that Oz could if he were in control. After the way he violated Oscar's agency at Haven, Oz wasn't about to take control by force, but if the boy lost consciousness before Oz was in control…

But it was too late – with another, final blow, Oscar's aura shattered, and his consciousness fled, along with all of his senses – leaving Oz trapped in an empty void, unable to help or take any action of his own, until Oscar woke again.

As a rule, Grimm didn't take prisoners, which meant that this one had to have been sent by Salem directly, for this specific purpose. What that might mean for the two of them didn't bode well… and Oz wasn't looking forward to finding out.


"We have chosen to depart this world, but in our absence, I would like to offer you the chance to return to it… Mankind is no more, yet your world remains. And in time your kind will grow to walk it's face once again. However, without our presence, they will be but a fraction of what they once were. Creation, Destruction, Choice, and Knowledge were the ideals on which humanity was made. Now, I leave them behind, with the hope that you will learn to remake yourselves. If brought together, these four relics will summon my brother and I back to your world, and humanity will be judged. If your kind has learned to live in harmony with one another and set aside their differences, then we shall once again dwell among you and humanity will be made whole again. But if your kind is unchanged – if you demand our blessings while still fighting amongst yourselves – then man will be found irredeemable and your world will be wiped from existence."

How many times over the millennia that he had walked the face of Remnant had that conversation with the God of light played out in his mind? Over and over again, he had picked it apart from every angle, trying first to find the solution that would allow him to keep his promise to the Brothers, and then – during his lowest moments of darkest despair – to try to find a loophole, a clause that would get him out of it, without sacrificing the rest of humanity in the process?

"Are you surprised? This world is quite literally godless. These humans have no one to guide them. Perhaps that's all they need."

"Don't you see? None of that matters anymore. Why spend our lives trying to redeem these humans when we can replace them with what they could never be?"

He had been a fool in that first incarnation. So blinded by his love for Salem that he had ignored what was right in front of his face until it was too late.

"We finally had freedom."

She may have found freedom… but he had not. He had trapped himself and all of his future partners in a cage of his own making – one more powerful than the cage he currently found himself in.

Being trapped in the dark void that was the edge of Oscar's subconscious wasn't pleasant. It left him blind, deaf, and mute, alone with nothing but his thoughts and memories. There weren't walls per se, but the only sensation of boundary that existed was the faint edge of self that divided himself and Oscar. It was a boundary which was much more prominent when Oscar was conscious – a clear line dividing their two personalities, at least for the time being while they were still so early in the merging process. Although, as that process continued, the line between them would shrink until it was nearly non-existent. But whenever this happened, this dark void of senselessness, it always stirred a faint hint of claustrophobia within him. When Oscar was simply asleep, it didn't bring up these feelings, because there was always a faint overlap as his partner's dreams bled over to him, as it was in sleep when his new partners tended to receive most of his memories, since the subconscious mind could accept and process such things more efficiently than the conscious mind.

Even during his self-imposed exile in the back of Oscar's mind – their shared mind – he had been able to see through Oscar's eyes, hear through his ears if he had chosen to do so, although most of those long months had been spent trying to deal with the trauma of reliving the memories that Jinn's tale had brought back up and the grief that had been born along with the realization that he may have lost the only allies he had left in this incarnation.

But now – waiting for Oscar to regain consciousness – the only thing he could do was reflect and try not to remember, try not to panic, as that would only exacerbate the feedback loop between the two of them once Oscar was awake again. He had no doubt that the Grimm that had attacked Oscar had singled his partner out for a reason – and this wouldn't be the first time that he had come face-to-face with Salem since his first reincarnation.

"Even now, you still betray me, Ozma. You tried to steal my daughters away from me. You attacked me. We had an agreement. We had freedom, power… a chance to remake the world in a way that the gods could never have done, and you threw it all away for empty promises from the very ones who stole you away from me in the first place!"

More than anything, he did not want to see her again. It was too early – Oscar was too young and not nearly strong enough to hope to hold his own against Salem for more than a moment at best. Even he, with his millennia of experience as a warrior wouldn't be able to stand against her for long, not when she could come back no matter what he did to her. He'd learned that lesson the hard way and it had cost him more than one partner in the past.

Sound and scent were the first sense to return – heavy footsteps on… something… soft? The sound wasn't as crisp as it should have been if the footsteps were landing on stone, tile, or even wood. But softness was a word that he no longer associated with Salem, so why would something around her sound soft?

In the distance, fading in and out of Oscar's hearing range, was a low timbred groaning. It was too deep, too organic to be something mechanical, but it was unlike anything he'd ever heard before.

The scent was even more peculiar – an acrid smell, blending with a more overpowering smell of rotting and decaying flesh. It took another few moments before Oz could separate the acrid smell from the rotten flesh. Ash, or soot – something charred.

Where exactly had they been taken?

A sense of touch returned next – the feeling of Oscar's coat being pulled tightly against his shoulders and chest from behind, as if someone had picked him up by it. He – they – were left hanging there, as Oz could only feel the pull against Oscar's coat and shirt. There was no contact with a floor or wall, so he could only assume that they had been left suspended in mid-air.

If taste returned, Oz didn't pay attention to it. They weren't eating or drinking at the moment, so the only thing that taste may have done to benefit them in this case would be to sharpen the sense of smell slightly, and at the moment a heightened sense of smell wouldn't benefit them.

The gradual return of senses was almost as maddening as being left in that black void – it gave him some information, but not enough to draw any firm conclusions about what was happening. The uncertainty only made him nervous and that much harder to retain control of his emotions.

Slowly, the line which formed the edge of Oscar's consciousness sharpened as the boy came closer to awakening. Oz had been trying to keep his distance since he broke from his exile, knowing that Oscar needed time to adjust and adapt to his presence again, but he also couldn't afford for the boy to panic again if there was to be any hope of getting out of the situation they were in. Panic wouldn't serve either of them, so he pressed close, allowing the edge of his own soul to overlap Oscar's – the closest he could get to a comforting hug without the benefit of his own body.

Oscar? He kept his voice soft, calming. Keeping Oscar calm would be critical to surviving the next few minutes, and from there they could begin planning how to escape. He had a feeling that he knew what was coming and despite the dread welling up in him, he forced himself to lock his own feelings away. If Oscar panicked, it would be worse for both of them. Don't panic. We're going to be okay.

He chose the plural form deliberately, wanting to make sure that the boy knew that he wasn't planning on abandoning him again just because they were in a difficult situation.

Sight returned slowly as Oscar regained consciousness. Red – a red floor? It was the wrong texture to be stone or tile… it looked like… flesh? The sight of Oscar's clothing, soot-stained and dirty from the fight with Neopolitan up in Atlas. Oscar's shadow below them, making it obvious that they were, indeed, hanging from something.

"What?" Oscar murmured, before he raised his head, giving Oz a clear look at their surroundings. Red and black walls which seemed to be moving, jagged bits of bone lining the floor… and… her.

"My long lost Ozma. Found, at last." There was a cloud of smoke hovering over her hand and the sound of childish laughter... it took a moment for Oz to realize that the smoke cloud was a conjured image of their lost daughters. He forced back the pain and grief, realizing that Salem had done that only to hurt him, since she couldn't possibly know how far along in the merge he was with Oscar, or what he had told Oscar about their past together.

Oscar seemed to fully realize where they were at that moment and Oz could feel his panic rising as he struggled to get free of whatever was holding them suspended. He had to keep Oscar calm, so he pressed closer, trying to be a reassuring presence without taking control of Oscar's body. He'd violated that trust once before – he didn't want to do it again.

Oscar, stay calm. She wants you to panic. She wants you to be afraid of her, because then she'll have the advantage.

"So small, this new host of yours. It's a wonder my hound didn't break you." Salem dismissed the conjured smoke image and moved out of the shadows of the doorway, giving both Oscar and Oz a clear look at her.

She was terrifying. Darkness seemed to follow her like a cloak, although the lighting in the strange dim room didn't change at all. Black veins crept up her pale arms and face, and her white hair was arranged in an elaborate style that was vastly different to the simpler half-bun she had worn in the past. Beneath it all, however, Oz could still see traces of the beautiful woman he had once loved, though those traces were nearly non-existent. He pushed the memory back, not wanting his thoughts or feelings about Salem to impinge on Oscar's mind. There would be time enough later to work through them.

"It's been… how many years?... since we saw each other like this, face-to-face?" she asked. Somehow the fact that she was speaking so calmly, so naturally, was even more terrifying than if she had been screaming or threatening him. "And nothing to say?"

What… what do I do? Oscar was still afraid, still panicking slightly if the racing of his heartbeat was any indication, but he was making an effort to not lose his composure, which filled Oz with both pride and grief. This boy was too young to have to deal with this, yet he was displaying all of the courage that Miss Rose had assured him that he possessed.

Just stay calm, Oz reassured him. We're too valuable to her at the moment. She wants information, and she wants to intimidate you into giving her what she wants. He paused before adding, tentatively, Would you like me to…?

No. No, I can do this.

Oz could feel Oscar clamping down on his fear. Vague, disjointed thoughts and emotions bled over to him before Oscar straightened as much as his current position would allow him to, attempting to deepen his voice and adopt Oz's mannerisms. "I'm sorry the reunion isn't living up to your expectations."

Oscar, don't –

He was a moment too late with his warning as Salem stared at Oscar before her hand lashed out and seized his face, dragging him closer, her eyes glowing red as her voice dropped from friendly to pure threat.

"You can pretend, boy, but you're not fully him. Not yet at least."

There was a spike of fear from Oscar, but it wasn't… there was something there, a nuance to the feeling that Oz couldn't pin down, and now wasn't the time to chase it. He pressed close again, trying to soothe his partner's fear.

"Well," she continued, her voice gentling and again becoming calm as she studied him, releasing her grip on his face. "Perhaps you and I can have a better working relationship. Oscar, was it?"

Oscar just stared at her, wondering what was coming next. Oz stayed quiet in the back of his mind, suspecting, but wanting to gather more information before prompting Oscar on what to do if he panicked again.

"The Beacon Relic." She stepped to her right and began circling behind the Grimm which held them suspended. "My forces have been unable to locate the relic beneath the school. If I know my Ozma –" and the way she sneered his first name, as if it was the most loathsome word she knew was a huge tell about her feelings, "he has used some means of deception to hide its location differently than the others. I need to know where it is."

"I –" Oscar hesitated. "That's not something I know about."

Good, Oscar. Tell her the truth if you must, but don't reveal more than you have to in order to appease her.

Fortunately, she seemed to accept his answer. "Of course. That's something he would keep guarded for as long as possible."

It wasn't going to be that simple, however. It never was between he and Salem.

"How about something easier then? The password for the lamp?"

Jinn knew everything except events that were to come. If Oscar gave her the password, she could use it to ask where the Beacon relic was, and that would be bad, because Jinn would know and Jinn would answer.

Oz knew that Oscar hated lying. His parents – and his aunt – had raised him to be honest. He knew exactly what lying did, after the way that Qrow and team RWBY had reacted to hearing Jinn's story. He could almost feel his partner's cheek aching with a phantom pain as he remembered Qrow's punch.

Oscar, we can't tell her that.

"The lamp is all out of questions."

Salem turned and looked at him. Her hands came up and then…

PAIN.

Raw, agonizing screams tore themselves free from Oscar's throat. For Oz, the physical pain was somewhat muted as he didn't have a body that could feel pain, but the spell she was using was tainted magic – dark magic – and it hurt on a deeper level than Oscar could currently comprehend, since he wasn't yet fully in tune with the magic that he would one day have full control over. Oscar was focusing on the physical trauma to his body, but Oz could feel her magic lashing at his soul and their bond.

Oscar! It will be alright! Just try to breathe! Oz called, pushing as close to taking over as he dared without actually doing so. He would give anything, anything, to prevent his young partner from having to feel this, but he was currently helpless to intervene as anything other than an anchor for Oscar to pull strength from, if he chose.

It seemed to go on for an eternity, but finally… finally… Salem lowered her hands and the pain stopped, leaving Oscar coughing and gasping for breath, barely managing to hold back the sobs he wanted to release. Oscar wasn't alone in hurting, however his pain was far more than what Oz was feeling from Salem's tainted magic – no doubt her way of punishing him as well as Oscar.

"The lies come out of you so easily," Salem said as she approached.

Stay calm, Oscar.

Oscar cringed away from her as she reached out and cupped his cheek gently with one hand, which only fueled Oz's fury at her actions. He forced the anger down, however, knowing that it wouldn't help Oscar at the moment. Her touch was a mockery of kindness and gentleness – fake, like so many other things about her now. "Like-minded souls indeed."

She turned away as Oscar hung his head, still trying to regain his composure and catch his breath, even as his chest continued to ache. "One of you is going to tell me what I want to know. I don't much care if it is you, or Ozma. Either way, I'll finally have the relic."

Oscar groaned, but managed to raise his head.

Oscar. I'm here. I'm not leaving you again. We're in this together. Oz assured the boy, once again trying to envelop his partner and pull him closer.

For a moment it seemed as if they were truly one mind and one voice, although Oz made no move to take over control. "I won't tell you anything," Oscar managed.

Salem seemed amused by his defiance. "Hm."

The door behind her opened and mutual dread washed over both of their paired souls. "H-hazel?" The huge man stalked towards them and Oscar raised his hands defensively. "Wait. Wait!"

Hazel's fists landed on his chest – once, twice – before the Hound dropped him on the ground and Oscar found himself gasping for breath again, his already aching chest exploding with pain. Oz burned with the desire to take control from his partner, but he wouldn't violate Oscar's agency that way again and he knew that being in control would only enrage the giant man in front of them.

"That was for Haven Academy," Hazel's deep voice echoed from above him. Oscar – Brothers bless him for his strength and courage – tried to raise his head, just as a solid kick landed in his stomach and sent him flying. "Everything that follows will be from my sister."

"Hazel… please…" Oscar begged, coughing again. "I can't…

Another vicious kick threw him into the air, bringing him slamming down to the ground with punishing force and knocking the breath out of him again, shattering what little aura they had managed to regain in the interval since Oscar had been knocked out down in Mantle.

Oz couldn't take it any longer. He couldn't sit back passively and watch his partner be so abused. Oscar. Let me take over. Let me spare you this.

No. He'll just try to kill you again, no matter what she has to say, Oscar replied, even as he struggled to draw in one clear breath before Hazel could strike him again.

He won't dare – not until we give her what she wants, Oz replied. Your courage is admirable, but you don't have to suffer because of my actions.

Did you kill his sister? Oscar asked pointedly. I mean actually pull the trigger or… or stab her… or whatever? Did you do that yourself?

No.

Then this isn't your fault. I can take it.

Hazel seized the back of Oscar's coat, lifting him into the air again and shaking him hard enough that sparks exploded behind Oscar's eyes. The disorientation affected Oz as well, though to a lesser degree.

Another punch landed in his stomach before Hazel flung him across the room. Oscar's back hit one of the walls, hard, and he groaned as he crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath he couldn't seem to find.

Oscar… Oz ached to do something to help, but at the moment it was clear that Oscar didn't want his help. Not in that way. All he could do was remain passive and wait and provide what comfort he could until they were alone again. Very well. However, my offer stands. I'll be here when you're ready.


The next span of time was a blur of pain unlike anything that Oscar had ever experienced. Hazel was relentless. The blows – both punches and kicks – seemed to impact every part of his body, although the larger man seemed particularly interested in landing blows to his chest and stomach. More than once he thought that he felt a rib crack, but in the overall haze of pain he was going through, it was hard to count.

Oz was a reassuring presence in the back of his mind, but he made no move to try to take over the way he had at Haven. Oscar wasn't sure how he felt about that – he'd hated it when the older soul had shoved him out of the way during that fight… but… he would be lying to himself if he didn't wish that he didn't have to feel all of this pain at the moment.

At the same time however, if Oz took control, Hazel would only hurt them more out of his rage towards Oz's perceived involvement in Gretchen's death, and he didn't want that. He wasn't sure how he could tell, but Hazel was holding back. Whether that was because he didn't really want to hurt Oscar, or because Salem had ordered him to do just enough to persuade him to talk, he wasn't entirely sure.

Hazel kicked him again, and he slammed into the floor, rolling several times until his back ran up against the wall. He braced himself for the sound of footsteps and squeezed his eyes closed as he tried to just breathe. If Hazel followed pattern, he would be grabbed by the back of his jacket and either thrown across the room again, or there would be another punch to his stomach.

But the expected blow didn't come. He pried one eye open to see Hazel leaving the room without a word. The door closed behind him and Oscar held his breath for a moment until the agony in his chest forced him to expel it, which only made the hurt worse as his strained muscles screamed.

"Oz…" he whimpered.

I'm here, Oscar. It will be okay. Just take slow, deep breaths.

"It hurts…"

I know. I know it does. But it will pass… just breathe and try to relax as much as possible. Would you like me to take over and give you some relief for a bit?

Oscar took a deep breath, trying not to sob at the agony as his chest expanded, pulling on aching muscles. "No… no, I'll… I'll be okay. You're… you're right," he managed between stifled sobs.

Oscar…

"No."

There was a long moment of silence from the old wizard, before Oscar got the impression of a sigh. Very well.

Oscar lay on the floor and tried to do what Oz had suggested, just taking slow, deep breaths. It hurt so much, but he wasn't going to be weak. He might not be a Huntsman on Oz's level (who could ever hope to be though?) or even on the level of Ruby and her friends, but he was going to be strong enough to endure this.

It took too much effort to try to speak out loud, and caused even more pain, so – as uneasy as it made him, he reached out to Oz in the only other way he could. Oz?

Yes, Oscar?

There was a question that he needed to ask, but he wasn't sure he had the courage to find out the answer… but if things kept going the way they had been…

I… when we merge… I don't…

A flash of recent memory, from Argus…

"These past few days, I've been scared of the same things you were. I don't know how much longer I'm going to be…me. But I did some thinking, and I do know that I want to do everything I can to help with whatever time I have left."

Confusion for a moment from the old wizard, followed by a feeling of clarity. Oh. Oh, Oscar, I am so sorry. I should have realized… There was a warm feeling, almost like he was being embraced, but it wasn't a physical sensation. I truly seem to have made a mess of everything this time around, haven't I?

I just… I need to know, but…

It's not your fault. These are legitimate concerns I should have addressed with you so much sooner. This process that we're going through… it's like weaving a tapestry.

I… huh?

In a tapestry, each thread has its own color, its own purpose in the grand design of the pattern or image, Oz explained. Together, they form the pattern or the picture, but you could pull on a single thread and it would unravel. Once the merge is complete, you will be that tapestry – thousands of threads of memories, experiences, emotions, all unique in themselves, but brought together to make something larger, grander… you. Right now, you can still distinctly tell what parts are me and what parts are you, because your unique threads are still being woven into the whole. With concentration, you will be able to separate out the many different lives that make up the whole, but for the most part, it will simply feel natural because the weaving will be so tight and complete.

The longer each of my previous incarnations had lived, the tighter the weaving becomes. Some of my lives have been brief and didn't contribute much to the overall pattern, while some were much longer and the colors they bring to what we are becoming are much more prominent and easier to tap into. The most recent incarnation before you – Ozpin – will always be the clearest in your mind, but Ozpin will never be you. You'll hear me less and less, because you'll already have gained everything that I have to offer, so you won't need me that way.

That… wasn't as scary as he thought. He'd always liked looking at the woven blankets that his aunt would buy during festival days to brighten up the farmhouse. The colors were always so vibrant and the whole blanket was a work of art.

Exactly.

If you… I mean we… are a work of art, then why do you call it a curse?

Because it can feel that way. During times of sadness and depression, it's easy to forget the moments of happiness and beauty that my reincarnations have brought. During those times, I think about all of the lives that have been lost – not just my own, but those I loved and witnessed dying, and it makes me want to curse the Brothers for offering this to me, and I want to curse myself for not asking the right questions before agreeing to it.

But in happier times, when I'm surrounded by friends or loved ones, it's easier to recall the brighter moments, and then it feels less like a curse and more like a blessing, because I've been able to experience so many things that I never would have had I simply remained Ozma.

That was good to know, Oscar supposed, taking another deep breath, just before the sound of heavy footsteps reaches his ears again. Oh no…

It will be all right, Oscar. We'll get through this… together.

Oz was right. He'd been angry at the older soul for months now – almost a year but having him back and speaking to him – they were together again, and Oscar had the sense that they would always be stronger when they were together.

Yes… we will. I'm sorry, Oz… and I forgive you…

He managed to catch Oz by surprise, if the feelings coming from the wizard were any indication, just before Hazel grabbed him again and began binding his wrists together with strips of fabric.


Sitting by, unable to do anything except be a reassuring voice in the back of Oscar's mind, was one of the hardest things that Oz had ever had to do. He'd had stubborn partners before, those who were completely unwilling to accept him. As a result their bond had never been as strong as it could have been, but that had been their choice.

He'd been captured by Salem in the past as well, tortured simply because it gave her pleasure to see him in pain at her feet after his perceived betrayal. And, of course, there had been the deaths that he had experienced directly at her hands – none of them pleasant or quick.

But somehow, all of that paled in comparison to remaining passive while a child was beaten simply for the crime of being his gods-ordained partner in this incarnation.

"I don't want to do this to you, boy," Hazel lifted Oscar from the strange bone-like hook from which he'd been suspended. He made quick work of the restraints around the boy's wrists which had held him in place as Hazel used his body as a punching bag. "If you would just tell me what you know, this will be over for you."

Oscar wheezed as Hazel dropped him to the ground roughly. "N-no."

Hazel grunted and turned away, heading for the door. "I'll give you some time to reconsider."

"I – I won't tell you anything," Oscar managed, filling Oz with no little pride at his partner's courage and strength once again.

Hazel paused.

"Then you've made your choice, boy."

There was a squelching sound as the door opened and closed again behind the giant man. Oscar curled up tightly, struggling to draw air into his lungs, even though that wasn't the best position for him to be in.

Oscar? You'll be fine. Just take slow breaths. Now, perhaps he could help, even if it meant bearing the pain himself and giving Oscar a chance to rest peacefully for a few hours. You continue to surprise me.

"H-how?" Oscar asked, before he coughed and groaned at the pull on his chest.

Your strength. Your determination. Your courage. There aren't many your age who could go through what you have already without breaking. It's why the Huntsman Academies don't accept anyone under seventeen as students except in incredibly special cases, like Miss Rose. When I founded the Academies, I never wanted to pull children into my war with Salem, but you have already done far more than many would do if they were in your place.

"R-really?"

Yes. You have been forging your own path throughout all of this – growing into the person you want to be. I know it hasn't been easy for you since I interrupted your life, and I am so sorry for that. As I've said before, you are much too young to have been dragged into all of this, but you have overcome every challenge that has been placed in your way, and I am confident that you will continue to do so.

"Oh. T-thanks." Silence fell between them again as Oscar lay on the ground, breathing slowly. When he finally moved again, Oz wanted to tell him to stop, to just rest, but there was a feeling of determination coming from his partner, and…

"Hey, Oz?"

Yes, Oscar?

"I'm not telling her anything, but... she'll get tired of me eventually. I'm guessing this is the first time she's ever had a relic, right?"

Yes. After… How to explain this without causing Oscar more fear and worry than he was already feeling? Well… after I first revealed the existence of the relics to her and we… had our falling out…

That was one way to put it, although Oz could think of several others, but he was trying to be honest without dwelling on it. He didn't like to think about those early reincarnations, because they had been full of pain and he had been at his lowest point. There were several lives that I lived after that before I really began my quest to find the relics. Losing my daughters the way I did… losing Salem… it… well, it broke me for a time.

"Heed this warning. Where you seek comfort, you will find only pain." Ozma hadn't listened to the God of Light's warning at the time.

During that time, Salem didn't really do anything. I don't know why – it would have been a perfect opportunity for her to gain a significant advantage over me, but she held back from making any moves. I suspect that once she took the time to really think about the relics and what they meant, she may have come to believe that the God of Light had already given me the answer as to where the relics could be found, and she was hoping to use me to find them.

"But it didn't work?" Oscar asked, rubbing at his nose. He squinted a bit to try to see out of the eye that was badly swollen.

No. Back then, I still had my full magical abilities which left us much more evenly matched. Her advantage of course, was the fact that she couldn't die, no matter how much I weakened her, whereas I was forced to go through the process of reincarnating and merging with my new partner each time we faced each other. So I had to be more… strategic. My advantage was that she didn't have a way to recognize my new partners or know that it was me unless we came face to face – then, she always knew. But since she didn't know where to find me in the world, I was able to move more freely and I at least knew what the relics looked like.

"Oh." Oscar sniffed a bit, before wrapping an arm around his ribs. Oz ached to be able to take the pain away from him. The beating that Hazel had given him had been relentless, and Oscar hadn't had a chance to try to regain any of his aura. That meant that he had felt every blow, at full strength. The injuries – even the ones that would just leave bruises – were beginning to accumulate.

I think he'll leave us alone for a little while.

"When – when she gets tired of my refusal to talk… she'll just kill me – us – won't she?"

Oscar, please don't give up hope. Until we give her password to the Lamp or tell her where the Beacon relic is, she won't let Hazel kill us. It would be a waste of a valuable resource.

"T-that's good to know, I – I guess," Oscar managed. "It means he'll… be back."

Yes, he will. Oz agreed. But this is your chance to try to regain some of your aura and prepare for a rescue.

"Rescue?"

Miss Xiao-Long, Mr. Arc, and Mr. Ren are still out there. I have no doubt that they are looking for you.

"Oh. Right."

Silence fell between them as tried to gain control of himself enough to meditate to try to regain his aura. With a few gentle nudges at the edges of his consciousness, Oscar could usually manage a meditative trance, but it was more difficult this time because he hurt so much.

Finally, Oz spoke up again. Sleep would also help you regain your aura if you can't concentrate enough to meditate.

"I…"

I know you're tired, and I'll wake you up before Hazel comes back.

"I'll try." It took some careful maneuvering, but Oscar was eventually able to find a position to lie in that didn't seem to aggravate his wounds or impede his breathing. He closed his eyes, and let out a slow breath, even as one salty tear rolled down his cheek and touched his lips.

I'm so sorry, Oscar. Sleep. I'll watch over you.


Oscar.

"Mmhm."

Oscar, wake up.

Senses were again muted, since Oscar was asleep, but it wasn't the complete and utter void that it had been when he was unconscious after the earlier attack.

Oscar, Hazel is coming. You need to wake up.

Oscar blinked once, twice, restoring sight to both of them. He was still lying on the ground where he'd fallen asleep. It was hard to move now – his muscles had begun to stiffen, and his chest still ached from the repeated blows he had taken.

He managed to push himself into a seated position just as the door opened with its slimy squelch sound. Hazel's heavy boots were muffled due to the strange, soft texture of the floor, but audible enough to be ominous. The sight of him woke Oscar up completely as dread washed over him. Even Oz's projected feelings of calm and comfort didn't do anything to squash the fear he now had for this man and Oz wished he dared to take over and fight back again.

"Hazel… please," Oscar tried, scooting back and instinctively hunching over to try to protect his body. "Please, don't do this."

"Give her the password for the Lamp and I won't have to," Hazel replied.

"I c-can't," Oscar said. "I won't let her destroy everything."

Hazel reached down and seized him by the back of his neck, thick fingers squeezing into pressure points that had Oscar gritting his teeth. "Then you're a fool, boy." He slammed Oscar back against the wall, his free hand grabbing both of Oscar's wrists and pinning them together while he bound them with strips of fabric again.

Oscar, please let me take control. Oz nudged hard at the edges of his consciousness, prepared to take control from Oscar.

No. Oscar pushed the older soul back.

His wrists bound, Hazel snatched him up again and carried him over to one side of the room, forcing Oscar's arms above his head and hooking the fabric strips over the bone-like hook. The position again pulled on Oscar's shoulders and chest – the burn where Salem had struck him with her magic wasn't getting any better. Oz could feel that their aura had begun to replenish, but he didn't suggest that Oscar activate it – it wouldn't last long under Hazel's abuse and he would likely need it once Hazel was done with him again.

"Hazel – this won't make anything better," Oscar tried, before one of Hazel's fists landed in his stomach again. He coughed harshly, his chest aching again, before another fist slammed into his face.

"Please…" Oscar said, softly.

Stay strong, Oscar. I'll take over if you need a break.

"It'll stop when you tell me what she wants," Hazel said simply. "Then you'll be free."


I'd like to express again that this is my burden to bear, not yours. His grudge is with me.

"No, it'll be even worse. He's holding back with me. I can tell." Oscar wiped a smear of blood from the corner of his mouth as he leaned wearily back against the wall. His aura was working to try to heal the damage from the most recent session with Hazel, but he still ached, and it was getting harder to breathe with each blow he took, which only made Oz more concerned about his partner's health.

I understand, I do, but you've done so much already. The least I can do is give you a break and try to get us out of here.

"We can't leave yet. This is our chance."

Hmm… maybe you've taken one too many hits.

"Salem, she knows she can't take on the whole world at once. So she doesn't. She has her followers work their way in, sabotaging us from the inside out."

"Maybe we should do the same."

We certainly are similar, you and I. Maybe we have been presented with an opportunity.

The door opened again, and Hazel once again entered, his body blocking the light coming from the corridor, filling the room with an ominous shadow.

"Great," Oscar muttered.

Oscar, please, Oz pleaded again as Hazel grabbed them and shoved Oscar back against the wall brutally.

"You don't need to fight this war kid," Hazel said. "Tell me what I need, and we can be done."

Are you sure about this?

Yes. I can get through to him where you may not be able to. He sees you as a child – but we would not have been paired together if we were not capable of balancing each other's weaknesses.

Alright. This time, when Oz nudged at the edge that defined their separate minds, Oscar accepted it, fading back, and leaving Oz in control.

It hurt, but Oz had been prepared for that, just as he was prepared to experience more hurt as soon as Hazel realized they had switched.

"Hello, Hazel."

"Coward! All this time, it could have been you, but you let him suffer!" The world spun again as Hazel flung him across the room. The strange texture of the ground wasn't enough to soften their landing, but Oz drew on his experience and managed to pull himself to his feet as Hazel stormed over. "Now, tell us how this damned lamp works! The boy has suffered enough."

"Why do you follow her?" Oz asked, just before a heavy boot landed on their chest.

Strength – Hazel would respect that more than groveling. Yes, he wanted Oz dead again, but in the giant man's eyes it would be more satisfying to break him first. Oz wasn't going to allow that. "I know." He coughed again, before drawing in as deep a breath as he could manage with his chest aching. "I know how you see me. But her? Look at what she does. How is she the answer? Why not stop her?"

Hazel… paused, glancing away from them for a moment.

Wait… did it actually work? Oscar asked incredulously. It was that simple?

"Salem can't be stopped. She's a force of nature. I've seen it firsthand." Hazel moved over to a jagged spear of bone and ripped the tip off. "But you, you send children to their deaths for a cause that you know has no victory, no end."

Oh. Never mind.

I'm not done yet.

"Someone has to try! Salem isn't a force of nature because Salem can be fought! Unless she brings the relics together. If that happens…"

Hazel seized him again, and again bound his wrists together before hanging him back on the hook. "I don't want to hear your lies."

Oz…

Rest, Oscar, as much as you can. I can bear this in your stead for a time.

The next several minutes were filled with blows. There was no point in trying to remain quiet, not when every blow to his chest and stomach forced the air out of him with a gasp of pain. Oscar remained quiet in the back of their mind for once, and Oz could feel his relief that he wasn't experiencing the pain this time, although it would come back ten-fold once they switched again. But Oz was prepared to hold out as long as necessary to give his partner a chance. It was the least he could do after his mistakes.

"You can make things easier on yourself if you start telling the truth," Hazel finally said, pausing for breath and to rest his arms.

Oz was silent for a long moment, just breathing through the pain. "You've never wondered why she recruited you? You, specifically, to help her find the relics?"

"We share a vision. She's gonna create a new world order, no kingdoms, and no Huntsmen Academies."

So that was what she promised him. Not just revenge on me.

That doesn't change anything though. He still wants you dead, and he probably wants to kill you himself as many times as he can.

Yes, but now I have an opening.

Oz smiled sadly, although it pulled painfully at their jaw and he let out a weak chuckle. "New world order. No. When Salem gets all four relics, there will be no world left at all."

Hazel glared, turning away… but he seemed to be listening.

"Don't you get it? She's been alive longer than you can comprehend. All she craves now is release. Death."

Hazel growled, turning around and slamming his fist into them so hard that Oz's vision whited out, his ears rang, and even Oscar whimpered in the back of their mind. "Stop lying! Salem can't be killed! When she came for me, I killed her over and over again. The longest she was gone was only a few hours before she put herself back together again. When I couldn't lift my arms anymore, she showed me that, through her, I could have the vengeance I needed."

"Oh Hazel. Don't you see? That is why she came for you. Because she could make you believe that this is what you needed."

"This is what you deserve!"

"Yes!" Oz was in complete agreement there. He had made so many mistakes – taking a beating like this was only the least of what he deserved. "But Oscar? The people of Atlas, Remnant? You haven't done what you've done for justice. You've done it for yourself. Because she pushed you to think it would help you. Well? Has it?"

In all their arguing and the faint ringing in his ears, he had failed to notice the door to their cell opening.

"Ozma. You've finally decided to show yourself, I see."

Oz's eyes moved from Hazel to the door, where Salem stood, hands clasped in front of her. "Salem," he coughed. "I wish I could say it was a pleasure, but that would be a lie."

Her lips turned downward in a frown, ever so slightly. "Now, that was not very nice, my love." She glided into the room as Hazel fell back. "However, I've come to see if you've had a change of heart."

"No."

"Really? That doesn't seem like you. I wouldn't have expected you to use a child as your shield like this." She stood before them, studying them. "You have changed – and not just your hosts."

"Partners," Oz corrected through clenched teeth. "Host implies that they have no say in the matter, that I am simply a parasite sucking them dry."

A small smile this time. "Aren't you?"

"No. That's the difference between you and me. I've learned over these millennia – how to work with my partners for the good of all of Remnant, while you continue to stagnate and remain just as you were when I last knew you."

Uh… Oz, are you trying to make her mad?

"You have grown bold, my love," Salem said darkly. "However, I will give you another chance. It is quite simple – I require two things from you. That is all. The password for the lamp, and the method to access the Beacon relic. Once I have them, well… your little host will be free, and you needn't worry about his safety anymore if he means so much to you."

I don't like where this is going…

"Because you plan to kill us," Oz said darkly.

"Oh no," she said, stroking his cheek in a mockery of caring. He could feel her sharp nails scratching furrows in his cheeks. "I won't kill you. You're too powerful a piece to be left on the board, turned loose to simply pop up somewhere else again. You said you've learned over the years… well so have I."

He snarled at the implication. "So you'd just lock us away, instead." He laughed bitterly. "You'd keep us like a pet. That isn't freedom, yet that was all that you ever wanted when I saved you from that tower."

"Perhaps, but it will be safer for both of you." She released him and stepped backward "You know I'd never stop hunting you, Ozma. That your host, this boy, will never find rest so long as you remain within him."

"This boy, as you put it, has a name," Oz shot back. "Oscar. And he is one of the strongest, most courageous, and capable partners I've ever had, despite his age."

Salem shook her head. "And yet you would use him until he dies of his wounds? All because you are too selfish to give me the answers I need?"

He could feel Oscar's fear at the back of his mind. Oz…

Oz let his head hang. Oscar... He was so tired. They were too injured to hope to make a successful escape, and the odds of a rescue party arriving were becoming slimmer with each moment that they remained here. Oscar was accumulating more injuries, and sooner or later his body would fail, just from the sheer amount of damage it had taken, aura or no aura.

But... perhaps a change in strategy... one last chance to save Oscar… His magic was no match for Salem's, but if he played his cards right, it might just be enough to save this brave, extraordinary child.

"I came back for you, you know," he said to the floor. He flicked his eyes up to look at her. "Or have you forgotten that? I told the God of Light no when he asked me to return because I thought that you were waiting for me in the afterlife."

She paused, her face staring down at him with little emotion. Good.

"I chose this, took on this curse, for you." He laughed scornfully. Emotions he'd long repressed were welling up within him, and he used that as a cover to reach deep inside himself. "And what have you done to repay that? You've destroyed everything I've ever loved out of spite. Our daughters, the families of my various partners over the millennia… it's only ever been to hurt me in whatever way you can."

He finally lifted his head to level an angry glare at her. "I loved you once, but now you've destroyed any love I ever had for you. The woman I loved died a long time ago, and I was too much of a fool to see it." His chest heaved. It was hard to breathe, but he stared at her with all the defiance he could muster. "You may destroy me, but I will not let you destroy the world. I'll come back – as many times as it takes – to stop you and fulfill my promise to the God of Light."

Oz… what are you doing? Oscar's voice was beginning to panic in the back of their mind.

I'm doing what I have to do to keep you safe.

Her face screwed into an angry grimace. She thrust out her hand, forming a vicious looking ball of black magic in its palm.

Oz felt Oscar wilt within him. Not again, the boy pleaded. Not again.

Oscar, it'll be okay, he comforted, even as the ball grew larger in her palm. This, too, shall –

His words cut off as she fired a ball of lightning into his chest.

Oscar was screaming in pain at the back of their mind, the tainted magic hurting him as much as it had hurt Oz earlier while the boy was in control, and Oz realized why despite his own screams. Oscar was beginning to unlock his magic – and Salem's tainted magic was drawn to try to destroy Oz's pure magic.

After what seemed like eternity, the attack faded, leaving both of them shuddering in pain – Oz physically, and Oscar cowering at the very back of their shared headspace, waves of agony rippling outward and somehow exacerbating the physical pain. But Oz forced himself to push past it, stretching for the magic deep in his soul. He was going to get Oscar out of this, whatever the cost to himself.

I'm so sorry, Oscar. This wasn't what I wanted for you.

"You destroyed our happiness. You betrayed me. I could have given you everything you ever wanted," she snarled somewhere beyond the agony seared into his chest. "You destroyed me. Now, I'm merely returning the favor."

Oz… Oscar whimpered.

Sshh… It will be okay, Oscar…

Another ball of the black lightning was beginning to gather between Salem's hands, but Oz mustered his remaining strength and raised his head to glare at her. "You won't win."

The lightning lashed out again and Oz acted. A combination of instinct and training took over and a dome of green, gold, and white light flared to life, intercepting the black lightning, and stopping it before it reached their flesh. The power flare was so intense it severed the hook they hung from, dropping them onto the ground hard.

The impact jarred every injury they had sustained, and the dome flickered for a moment, allowing one tendril of lightning past, causing Oscar to scream again, his panic flaring and arcing down to Oz, which only fed into his own panic…

Oz!

Oz gritted their teeth together and shoved past the fear and panic that was threatening to pull him back into a vicious feedback loop. All he had left was his own strength – Oscar wasn't trained enough or in the right mindset to help with this. It was sheer willpower alone which closed the gap in the shield, cutting off the lightning, but not the waves of emotion coming from his partner.

His injuries were too much – he couldn't maintain the shield under the combination of pain, fear, and panic coming from Oscar. He didn't want to do this, but it was their only chance. Within their mind, he stepped back and shoved Oscar back into control of their body before cutting off as much of their bond as he could. It was cruel, yes, but it was the only way he could concentrate enough to pull off this last trick.

Salem was screaming, pouring her power into a vicious assault against his shield, which was beginning to flicker again. He'd told Oscar the truth – magically, he was no match for Salem, as she had never sacrificed huge portions of her magic as he had. But he had to hold on – just a little longer as he worked the spell within his mind…

Emerald green energy flared inside the dome beneath Oscar's body, and there was a strange ripping sensation along the bond between himself and Oscar.

OZ!

It was like tearing out half of his soul – but it was for Oscar's well-being, for the good of all of Remnant, so it was worth it.

I'm so sorry, Oscar. Goodbye…

OZ!