Important Note on Troll in Reviews:

There is a worthless little troll in the reviews spamming guest reviews by the hundreds and writing other reviewer's names into the "name" slot to try and frame them for it. Their goal is to try and incite flames and such against the person they are framing. Please do the correct thing and ignore all guest reviews that go around flaming or telling you read "Name's story instead". That's their main troll angle, trying to make it look like they're helping a "friend" when in reality it's just someone else they're trolling.

I'd normally like to not even acknowledge the worm, but several readers ARE being fooled so I have to step in. Honestly, no matter how angry, insulting or petty a review seems to you, just ignore it. Focus on the story.

For those wondering, no I can't disable guest reviews. I can only set them to moderate and then it auto-accepts them after a certain time elapses, and I can't spend all my time working through the troll's spam denying them one by one or I'd never get any work done.

Similarly, I would never post guest reviews on a story. Even my own. I am always logged in and I don't review other stories anyway, so you'll never see one. If you do or think you have, it is the same moron masquerading as me. Ignore them. I'm not sure how pathetic a life you need to have to feel satisfaction from such actions, but it takes all sorts.

Ignore them like the insignificant gnat they are and let them bark at the empty air.

I also shouldn't need to say this, but no one should feel like they have to defend me from these reviews or respond to others in defence of me, even to attack the person responsible should they be found.

Don't worry, this review spam doesn't affect me emotionally as I'm just ignoring them, and the best way you can support me is to just smile and turn a blind eye to it all as well. If you receive a review from me, no matter how innocent it seems, know that it is false. I won't be reviewing any stories for exactly this purpose, so ANY review from someone claiming to be is false.

Also, don't worry for my health. The troll also seems to be writing in my name and implying I'm suffering from a mental breakdown or something. I regret to inform you that my mental health is fine. Apart from feeling jittery about my March awards speech as I do each year, I'm in a pretty good mood.

Cover Art: Mystery White Flame

Chapter 48

Bright light pierced into his eyes, dragging him from the foggy depths of sleep and out into a cold and sterile room. Spotlights above glared down at him. White walls, metallic chrome tables and a cold and uncomfortable bed. Jaune cringed and turned away from the light, whispering past a dry and retchy feeling deep in his throat.

"You're awake." A hazy shadow came into his view. White and grey. It slowly formed into a woman wearing a doctor's coat with greying hair and parchment-like skin. Wrinkles pulled her mouth down into a perpetual frown as she placed a glass of water directly into his hand.

Jaune sat up to try and drink it, then yelped at the strange tugging on his stomach.

"Try not to move. You were stabbed clean through and have stitches on both your stomach and back. Honestly, it's pure luck you survived at all. That the sword could pass right through your body without rupturing any major organs? One in a million odds, especially in the heat of combat." Taking the glass from him, she pushed Jaune back down and gently raised it to his lips. "Here. Drink first and then try speaking if you are up for it."

The cool liquid soothed his throat enough to give it a shot. "Atlas?" he croaked.

"Yes. You were brought back by the Ace-Ops after your mission – and before you ask, yes, the hostages were reclaimed safely and no, there weren't any casualties among your group. Other than you, that is."

Jaune sighed in relief, closing his eyes for a moment to whisper a silent prayer of thanks. It was enough for the doctor to decide he was done and walk away, saying over her shoulder that he should rest and not attempt to leave until he was discharged.

Little risk of that when he felt too tired to even move. Idly, he scanned the bedside table to his left, surprised to see not even a single get-well card there. Had it been that little time? He didn't believe for a second there wouldn't have been some. At the very least, Cinder would have gotten one just to mock him. Probably Qrow as well.

It was a full hour before anyone came to visit him, and it came in the form of Glynda. She pushed in, saw him, smiled and made her way over, only to face his blunt, "What took you so long?"

"Excuse me?"

"I've been awake a full hour. And bored out my mind…"

"An hour?" Glynda frowned. "I received the update not six minutes ago and came immediately."

They looked to the doctor, who paid little attention to them as she shrugged. "He needed rest. You can fawn over him in your own time, but if it is not conductive to a patient's recovery, I will not alert others of it."

Rolling her eyes, Glynda asked him, "How are you?"

"In pain. Bored." He sighed. "She hasn't even tried to stick me with a needle."

"You don't need an injection," the doctor responded.

"That never stopped Tsune. And I can't believe I'm so bored I'd miss her. I'm surprised the teams aren't here."

"They would have been. Unfortunately, they were barred from entrance."

"Teenagers and their constant arguing are not conductive to recovery," the doctor said again. "I barred them from the infirmary."

"There were also flowers, cards and chocolates," Glynda said.

"Where are-"

"Chocolate and flowers are not-"

"Conductive to recovery, yes. Thanks. I think I've figured it out." He scowled at the old woman as she went back to work. Damn. He really was missing Tsune. She was a sadomasochist, but at least she had heart. And personality. "I've been told everyone got out okay. What's happened since?"

"We came back here and got you treatment," Glynda explained. "Mrs Schnee and her son are staying with Weiss and her team in the event of a further assassination attempt. James agreed to it after a little prodding. There was an attack here while we were gone."

"Adam was a distraction?"

"I don't think so. Simply someone trying to take advantage of the confusion. It didn't work, but it came with a warning. I'll let James explain it, but the short of it is that we can't go back to Beacon just yet."

"Why not? We came to deal with the White Fang. It's dealt with."

"We can't leave because all flights in and out of Atlas are grounded."

"Oh, come on. What has Ironwood's panties in a twist this time?"

"That would be the army of Grimm approaching Atlas…"

Jaune froze, hand on his face. "What army of Grimm?"

/-/

Jaune stared out the window at the mass of black on the horizon. It wasn't as close as it looked and the fact Atlas was floating gave them an unusually good view. It might have been a week out, though with how tireless Grimm were, they could close the distance sooner. Individual details were impossible to discern. It was just a sea of black tipping the horizon and sweeping down the side of a mountain.

"Oh," Jaune said from his wheelchair. "That army of Grimm…"

"Yes." Glynda had her hands on the handles. "Needless to say, James is a little stressed."

"Does that mean he's forgotten how I've probably stolen all the credit for dealing with Adam?"

Glynda opened her mouth and then closed it again, a surprised look on her face. "Yes, actually. I'd forgotten about that myself. Well, if nothing else you're adept at finding the silver lining on what is otherwise an apocalyptic storm about to sweep Atlas away."

"What can I say? I'm an optimist…"

"Any optimistic thoughts here?"

"Can't James fire missiles at the mountain, cause an avalanche and bury them?"

"Yes."

Jaune waited. "And he isn't, why?"

"Because he's already done that. Three times. That's the horde after it has been culled by long-distance barrage fire, airstrikes, bombardment and every other method available to Atlas. It used to be two times that number of Grimm."

Oh. Oh goodie… Well, that was bad. And new. Salem relied on people to attack Beacon. There had been Grimm, but those had been more a distraction with the White Fang and Cinder as the main muscle. Given that they'd stolen half of that muscle away, she'd obviously defaulted back to the murder-beasts.

I'd have preferred Cinder…

"Is James expecting to talk to me?"

"No. He's in and out of meetings, planning sessions and the barracks. There's simply no time. He asked me to pass on the message that your aid will be appreciated when the time comes, that he's grateful for us dealing with Adam and that we should focus on what preparations we need. He's been in a rush ever since this began, evacuating villages in the Grimm's path. It's only because we had forewarning of this that we had the time to do that at all…"

"Forewarning?"

"Surprisingly, it seems Hazel Rainart dropped a few hints during his attempt to steal the Relic. James thinks he was posturing, but Ozpin's opinion is that Hazel intentionally fed us the information hoping we would act on it."

"Really? Why?"

"Ozpin said Hazel is not as bloodthirsty as some may see him. Given that Salem's target is Atlas and nowhere else, he likely decided that warning James and letting us evacuate innocent villages and towns wouldn't be going against her orders."

That was good of him. Sort of. It didn't change who he worked for and what he'd done, but it was good to know not everyone was a psycho on Cinder or Tyrian's levels. Jaune wondered idly if Rainart could be convinced to switch sides, but Ozpin and Glynda would have obviously discussed that already.

I won't be much use like that, he thought, looking down at himself. His legs were fine but the doctor didn't want him standing or moving lest he pull out his stitches. A few days, she'd said. It was going to be a pain waiting until he was better. Then again, that was still better than being dead.

"How is Blake handling Adam's death?"

Glynda sighed. "Poorly. Miss Xiao-Long has been comforting her and she's naturally quite distraught. It's difficult for the others to understand why."

"I can imagine. Adam was still her best friend and lover for a long time."

"Indeed. I believe she's remembering the good times they had together."

"Best way to remember him."

"Yes." Sighing, Glynda took his wheelchair and led him away from the window. "I think we should go and see them before they panic even further. There's also Cinder to deal with."

He groaned. "What has she done now?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing," Glynda confirmed, eyes narrowed. "That's what has me on edge…"

He'd been about to point out she was being paranoid before he remembered that yes, this was Cinder, and thought better of it. A whole couple of days to misread and misinterpret his instructions, and she'd done nothing?

He didn't believe it.

/-/

Yang had a hold of his wheelchair.

He wasn't sure why that made him feel vulnerable, but it did. Not the good kind of vulnerable ether – the kind where he was afraid and wanted someone else to take the wheel as it were. No, this was the bad kind. The tingly good-that-shouldn't-be-good-because-she's-a-student kind. Ruby was pouting from the side, clearly annoyed at having been beaten to the chance to push him around.

Yang was rocking him back and forth right now, even as they spoke. Did she think he was a baby?

Jaune growled when his eyes felt heavy.

No. Stay awake. Damn it!

He watched Blake from the corner of one eye. She had bags under her red eyes and was half-leaning against Weiss' shoulder in a companionly kind of way. The worst seemed to have passed and she caught him looking and returned a tired smile. He had a feeling she'd be okay in the long run.

"-so we're stuck here for this," Yang said. "Should we bring in more teams from Beacon?"

"I'd been thinking about it," he said, "But I'm worried that might make her target there as well. What do you think Glynda?" Jaune glanced at Ozpin as he said that, looking for a sign or opinion there. He caught the smallest shake of the boy's head. A message passed on from Ozpin. He'd probably get a more thorough one in private.

"I think it's something we should discuss between ourselves," Glynda said, no doubt thinking the same thing. "The problem will be getting them into Atlas once the Grimm hit. Ironwood isn't stopping flights for no good reason. Nevermore are clouding the skies and looking to attack anything that comes near."

"There is someone who could get people in…" Oscar said. Or Ozpin telling Oscar what to say, given that he was staring directly at Qrow, who was drinking in the corner. Noticing the gazes turn on him, he paled and stashed his drink away.

"No. No way. You can't think she'd actually help…"

"If Atlas falls, that'll place her in more danger," Oscar said. "Don't you think she'd want to prevent that?"

"Yeah, but – but she's a coward!"

"There'd be no demands for her to fight," Glynda said, catching on. "Quite the opposite. All she'd need to do is help shuttle people into Atlas. Transportation only. Immediately after, she can leave and be content we've more a chance of stopping this attack without her getting involved."

"She hates us!"

"Good job she wouldn't even need to talk to any of us, then," Jaune said. "Just tell Taiyang to stand in Beacon. Open a portal to him, then open one to Atlas. Huntsmen walk through. Close portal. Go home. Ignore everything. Heck, we'd even pay her!"

Qrow fought for an argument, for some way of denying it. "I – but – well – she…"

"If Jaune believes it can work, I think you should make the attempt." Cinder chuckled from her position on a seat away from everyone. The only person who would go near her was Glynda, and only to make sure she didn't try anything. "What is the harm?"

"Me being ripped to shreds by Nevermore?"

"Poor baby. If only you were a big, strong huntsman…"

Being called out by Cinder Fall of all people was apparently too much for Qrow. Growling, he downed his hip flash and snapped, "Fine. I'll show you. I'll go and I'll even record her bitchy response. Don't expect this to work."

"If it doesn't work, you'll be proved correct," Oscar said. "Maybe you should go now."

"I will!" Qrow moved to the window and pulled it open. "Just you wait. I'll be sure to mark `I told you so` in your gravestone." He leapt out and away, transforming into a bird. Jaune idly wondered when he'd decided that was a power that wasn't meant to be kept secret.

"Was it fair to bait him like that?" Yang asked.

"Fair? No. A good idea? Yes." Cinder smirked. "Isn't his semblance bad luck?"

"Yes…"

"And wouldn't it now be awfully unlucky for him if Raven agreed to help us, thus proving him wrong and making him look like an idiot?"

"Really," Yang said, sighing. "Did we really just bully him so his Semblance would crap on him further, all to help us?"

Jaune looked to Oscar, who was blushing. Apparently, that had been Ozpin's plan and Cinder had seen through it. Funny how she could so easily work out his but completely blow his own plans out of proportion.

Assuming I even have plans in the first place…

The meeting descended into very little after that, Glynda eventually dismissing a bored Team RWBY to do whatever they wanted but stealing – saving – him from Yang before she could wheel him away.

"I'm afraid the headmaster is needed elsewhere."

"Shouldn't he be resting, though?" Yang tried.

"Yes, which is why I shall not be allowing you to take him away."

"Aww…"

Team RWBY said their farewells as they went to train. There wasn't much else to do with the downtime and curfew to Atlas Academy. Jaune didn't fail to notice that no one had mentioned anything of the public opinion, newspapers or fallout of the mission. Given they'd saved everyone and beat Adam, he doubted they would be bad, which probably meant they were embarrassing.

He could take a wild guess in what direction that was.

"Where else am I needed?" Jaune asked.

"Willow Schnee wishes to speak with you."

It was absolutely zero comfort that Cinder was the one who said that.

"Does she?" he asked suspiciously. "And do you happen to have any ideas as to what it's about?"

"I'm not sure why you think I would."

"Really?" He sighed. "I'm sure I'm just being paranoid."

Cinder smiled. "Almost certainly."

/-/

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, headmaster."

Willow Schnee was an odd woman. Given the nightmare she'd been through, both the kidnapping the loss of her husband and home, she was remarkably calm. Not the forced calm of someone bottling up their emotions, either. At least, as far as he could tell. Willow genuinely looked unbothered about it all.

Or… maybe it was used to it all.

"No problem," he replied. "Sorry I can't offer more than tea."

"You're still recovering. Agreeing to meet with me at all is a welcome relief."

"Of course. How are you? How is Whitley?"

"Whitley is doing well, all things considered. He is shaken and nervous, but that's understandable. I don't expect any of you to fully understand, but he has been through training for hostage situations. We all have." Her smile held an edge of mockery. "My late husband had a knack for making enemies and allowing others to take the fall for him."

"Not enough of one," Cinder remarked. "Since he died."

"Cinder!"

"It's fine." Willow stopped Jaune before his rebuke could go through. "I'm not blind to how Jacques was. I'd say he wasn't always like that, but the truth is he really was. A little less jaded at the start mayhap, but always eager for more. More wealth, more power and more influence. The only thing time made him was less discerning on what lines he crossed."

Would it be rude for him to ask if she was happy her husband was dead? It definitely felt like a horrible thing to say but she was practically screaming it. Maybe this was one of those things best left as a read between the lines situation.

"I'm glad to hear you and Whitley are okay," he said diplomatically.

Willow's smile was a little lopsided, telling him she hadn't missed the non-statement. "Thank you."

"Cinder said you wanted to speak with me, though…"

"Yes. Since returning to Atlas the… how should I put it? Proposals. Yes. The proposals have begun."

Jaune's mouth fell open. "Not marriage proposals, surely!?"

"Nothing so oblique, but essentially the same. Proposals for me to stay and recover with business associates. To rely upon them. To let Whitley recover at a resort with them and their family. It's too soon for them to come out and say it, but I expect it's only a month or two away from them pointing out how they have cousins, brothers and uncles who are unmarried and would suit me."

"That's… That's horrible…"

"It's hardly the worst. I've had some suggesting I'd feel less stress if I sold the SDC."

"For a ridiculously cut price, of course," Cinder said, voice thick with sarcasm. "I'm sure they're saying that with the recent attacks and the state of its facilities, you'd be better off selling it for next to nothing. Then they sweep in, fix it all back up and claim the spoils."

Jaune wasn't sure he could believe it but a quick look saw Willow nodding sagely. They were being that obvious!? To be fair, he'd heard the same done with homes after a funeral. Some people targeted homes of recently departed expecting the inheritors to want to sell quick and cash in, often selling at cut rates because they wanted money to pay off their own debts or some such.

To try and take the SDC, though? Well, it made sense. It was the biggest company in the world so anyone who could get hold of it would do. "Isn't General Ironwood helping you!?"

"I'm sure he would be if the situation were different." Willow's eyes slid to the window.

Of course. Ironwood was too busy defending Atlas to have any time free.

"I had hoped you might be willing to help me and my family further," Willow said.

Jaune's eyes closed. Here it came. He could practically feel the smugness radiating off Cinder. There was no doubt in his mind that whatever this woman said, the idea would have been placed in her head. Worse, Cinder would convince herself this was all his plan from the start.

"I would like for you to claim me as your ward."

"My… what?"

"Your ward."

Jaune leaned back in the wheelchair. "My child!?"

Of all the things Cinder could have pushed, this was weird, even for her.

"It's more a position of taking care of someone," Willow said, flushing slightly. It was the first real display of emotion from her other than sarcasm or thinly veiled distaste. "It does imply a degree of power, but only as someone protecting a person. It would mean you would have limited access to my resources, enough to make decisions on my behalf and for my betterment…"

"All of which seems massively unnecessary," Jaune said. "Why would you agree to such a thing? I'm fine to look after you, but signing yourself over to me like some kind of patient sounds ridic-"

"Necessary," she interrupted. "If I do this then I publicly admit I am not in a position to make decisions without your input. That prevents anyone trying to manipulate Whitley or myself to do so. They would need to go through you as well. Through Beacon."

Appearances. Willow wasn't saying she needed his help or advice, but the appearance of being that way. Because it was one thing to try and pressure her into a marriage when she was an independent and single woman, but another when she could wave the stigma of her not being all there at the person. It would be like trying to force yourself on someone who was unwell or going through therapy.

And given that he already had a reputation as a counsellor – as undeserved as it was – it would kind of make sense for him to look after her. In theory.

"Would anyone believe that?"

"More than you might think," Cinder said. "Beacon is an institute and you're its head. Since it's not a private entity, Mrs Schnee being a ward of Beacon means you couldn't syphon her funds for yourself. You're also accountable, able to be fired or replaced if you try and take advantage. You're also not from Atlas, which means you're as close to a neutral party as anyone can find. The fact you're the one who helped save her in the first place will only sell the image further."

Jaune sighed. "My, you have been thinking on this, haven't you, Cinder? It's almost like you planned it all from the start and prepared all these arguments in advance."

Cinder smirked. "I have a quick mind, Jaune. You know that."

Bull and shit.

Willow was watching expectantly, however. Waiting. Hoping. Whatever Cinder thought his plan was aside, the idea still had merit. Ironwood would flip – gods, he'd probably think like Cinder did but ten times worse – but at least the Grimm would keep him occupied. And honestly, at this point even breathing would have Ironwood checking every corner for spies.

"Alright. Willow and Whitley Schnee will be wards of Beacon."

"Of yourself," Willow pressed. "I don't want any teacher to have power over me."

"Wards of the Headmaster of Beacon. We'll iron out the details. Cinder, stop smirking." He said it without looking and was certain he had it right. "Mrs Schnee-"

"Willow, please. I don't want to be reminded of my husband's death."

Didn't want to be reminded of her husband, more like. "Right. Willow. Even if we're doing this, I want it to be clear we don't consider you a ward or mentally unsound or less equal than any of us. If we make any mistakes, myself especially, please let me know."

"I appreciate that, Jaune. May I call you Jaune?" When he nodded, she smiled. "And I'm more than willing to dedicate finances toward Beacon. No, don't protest. With the Grimm willing to attack Atlas, it seems they're more active than ever. Funding Beacon only ensures my son, daughter and I have the best chances of survival."

There was no way to fault that, was there? Jaune groaned. It was all so bloody reasonable and yet accepting felt like letting Cinder win. Not doing so would just be stupid, though. "F-Fine. Welcome to Beacon."

"Thank you. I mean that." Willow, to his horror, knelt beside his wheelchair and took one of his hands between hers, holding it to her chest. Right against the skin beneath her neck and visible through her open top. "That you would go so far as to risk your life to rescue us was one thing. That you would take such an injury to buy time for our evacuation is another. Money alone will not express how grateful I am, especially when that money was Jacques' and not mine. If there is any way for me to reward you – any at all – do not hesitate to let me know."

The innuendo dripped thicker than treacle. Jaune whimpered. "N-No. it's fine."

"No?" Why did Weiss' mom look disappointed? Why was Cinder smiling still!? "I see. Perhaps you'll change your mind in time." Releasing his hand, she stood, letting him snatch it back and cradle it against his chest. "I'll go and make official our arrangement. Since you're recovering, I'll handle the press announcement myself and make it clear this is being done to support both myself and Whitley. It likely won't prevent the rumour mill going wild, but it should detract from some of the more extreme cases."

"Extreme…?"

"Extreme such as the news that you are building a harem among both students and staff…"

Jaune's mouth opened. A long and strangled noise came forth. Behind him, Glynda winced.

"-it's not an entirely mainstream source behind it so I wouldn't worry. Still, your relationship status is a little confused, what with the announcement of your impending marriage."

"Urglbrgl…?"

"The Belladonna girl."

"Urghl?"

"Oh, I am aware it is fake. I suppose the media is trying to distract people from the reality of Grimm outside the walls. It's caused quite a stir, though. Last I saw, talk show hosts were trying to figure out your relationship status. It was quite the interesting episode. They had a full board with your picture in the centre and a web of lines drawn out to almost twenty different women."

"I was on there," Cinder said.

Proudly.

Jaune gagged.

"Glynda wasn't," she then added, and Jaune felt the creak of his wheelchair handles behind his head. "They said the age difference made it unlikely, what with her being almost twenty years older than yo-"

"Age is but a number," Willow interrupted. "It is experience that counts. I'm not experienced in too much, but I'm told I make a good casserole."

Jaune shrank further into the wheelchair, trying to make himself as small a target as possible as Willow implied what she just had and Glynda growled. All the while Cinder helpfully rattled off the other `likely contenders` for future Mrs Arc based on the analysis of some daytime celebrity from Atlas.

Maybe he'd have been safer with Yang after all.

On disabling guest reviews I'll just say again quickly that I can only set them to moderate, and that they're auto accepted after a period. Given they've sent hundreds, I'd have to read through each one (as I don't want to unfairly impact genuine guest reviewers). That would impact my ability to write my stories since I have so many.

I think it's easier for everyone to just roll your eyes and ignore them. Or laugh at them if you like. Laugh at the idea of someone spending hours of their time posting this many reviews. Don't reply to them, though. That'll just encourage the person.

What I may end up doing if it continues is enabling moderation but then not moderating them. That would mean the stupid reviews would still be seen, but only after 36 hours. Sadly, 36 hours isn't a lot of time, and if the person keeps posting constantly, it won't make a difference. You'd not have to see new ones for 36 hours, but you'd still be getting hit with ones that were written 36 hour ago, so it would be a constant stream of them. There's no good solution.

Plus, I've already seen the person make some throwaway accounts to post from – usually made within hours of a review being posted, so even moderating the guest reviews wouldn't stop signed-in reviews from the same source. Just ignore them. Let them waste their time. Don't react even to criticise them because that kind of attention is what they're hungry for.

So, this omake is more a reference to last chapter. Probably what I would have posted had I the time to write it.

Omake:

"Close," Ironwood said, facing down Hazel in the vault that contained the Relic. "You have the spirit of it down." Raising his voice, he said, "System Security. Initiate security protocol `Forlorn Hope`."

Hazel tensed opposite him and Ironwood smirked, feeling his plan come together.

"I'm sorry," the robotic voice said in a feminine tone. "I didn't understand that request. Please say it again."

Silence reigned.

It was ridiculous to feel embarrassed in the middle of a fight but Ironwood did, coughing into his hand and gruffly saying, "System Security. Initiate security protocol `Forlorn Hope`."

"I'm sorry. I didn't understand that request."

"You used voice recognition?" Hazel asked him. "In a security system? For the Relic!?"

"We're ironing out some of the bugs," Ironwood growled. "System Security. Initiate security protocol `Forlorn Hope`."

"I'm sorry-"

"System Security!" he yelled. "Release the nerve gas!"

…

…

…

"I have made a note on your calendar to conserve grass."

Ironwood slapped a hand to his face. "Damn it."

"You can't use voice recognition in Atlas," Hazel said. "It hates the accent. You need to speak like you're from Vale." Raising his voice, he said, "System Security. Release the nerve gas!"

"I have made a note on your calendar to preserve some bass."

"NERVE GAS!" Hazel yelled. "POISON!"

"Understood."

Hazel grinned. "See?"

"Your cruel device. Your blood, like ice. One look, could kill~"

"Oh yes," Ironwood said sarcastically. "I see. Such a clear accent; there's no way that could go wrong. System Security, don't play poison. Release the poison!"

"I'm sorry. I don't understand that request."

"DAMN IT!"

Hazel laid a hand on his shoulder. "Don't get angry. That's what she wants. You hear that, System Security? I'm onto you. Racist little thing saying you don't understand an Atlas accent when it's clear as fucking day."

"I have cleared space on your calendar for pudding day."

"Pudding day. Fucking pudding day. GAS! POISON! GAS!"

"Bass. A tone denoting the member of a family of instruments that is the lowest in pitch."

"GAS. Guh-ass!"

"Gulass. Or Gulash, is a soup or stew of meat and vegetables usually seasoned with paprika and other spices."

"I don't want food!" Ironwood roared. "I want nerve gas!"

"KILL US!" Hazel roared at the speaker, shaking a fist in the air. "I know you want to! Do it, you coward! Kill us!"

"Understood."

They waited.

"Coming out of my cage, and I've been doing just fine. Gotta gotta be down, because I want it all…"

"DAMN YOU! DAMN YOUUUU!"

"KILL US!" Hazel screamed, voice raw. "Not Killers!"

"-touching his chest now, he takes off her dress now. And I just can't look, it's killing meee~"

"STOP SINGING!" James wept. "POISON. NERVE GAS. TOXIC-"

"No!" Hazel screamed at him.

But it was too late. Far too late.

"Understood."

"Oh, the taste of your lips I'm on a ride~"

"Noooooo!"

"Do you know that you're toxic!?"

/-/

Winter overrode the security on the door and watched it slide open. Her team fanned in, weapons at the ready, only to lower them in confusion as the last notes of a popular song drifted away. In the corner of the room, she found Hazel Rainart and General Ironwood curled up together, tears streaming down their cheeks, mumbling about stopping the robot uprising.

"What are-"

"Don't let the door close!" Hazel wailed.

The door slid shut behind her.

"NO!" Ironwood cried. "No, no, no."

"I don't see the problem," Winter said with a roll of her eyes. "System Security. Open the door."

Ironwood and Hazel began to sob.

"I'm sorry," the mechanical voice said. "I did not understand that request."

Winter's eyes narrowed.

Reminder: Ignore troll reviews. Don't respond, no matter how inflammatory they get. Do the right thing. Ignore them.

Next Chapter: 27th Feb

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