Hey guys! Backwardsaile here! Holy shit it's been so long. I'm so sorry for taking so long with this chapter! Again, I'm caught up in a lot of personal biz and life outside of writing so I can't guarantee a new chapter regularly. Again, I apologise for such a long wait!

These past few months, the world has kinda gone to shit. Riots and protests galore with BLM, all from that one video in May. The virus, which we thought would have settled down by now (foolishly) has come back with a second wave and thousands of us have been affected. One way or another. In this time, I ask that you look toward your blessings. Be appreciative of the small things in life. Tell your fam you love them and take this time to connect with them. (I'm sorry if I'm being sappy. Last few months has changed and matured me a bit [dw I wasn't hit by tragedy or anything, touchwood]).

(I find that prayer helps a fair amount. For those of you who are free thinkers, that's okay. Just try and improve yourselves in this trying time.)

I hope y'all are safe and healthy. If you guys have lost anyone recently (again touchwood), I am truly sorry. You have my condolences and I wish you and your family comfort and recovery.

Okay, enough doom and gloom. Fics are a way for us to escape and enjoy ourselves and I intend for you guys to do so! Before we continue, I'll answer some of the reviews and say a few more things.

First, the reviews.

saitama1155: I mean, yeah. Kinda. But at the same time, I intend to make them be on equal ground (sort of). After all, this Lelouch is not really driven by the "DESTROY BRITANNIA" drive that canon Lelouch is, if you get what I mean. So Zero is gonna play a bit differently.

ewertondragon10: ...Not really sure what your review means exactly. But thanks I guess?

ChunkyFunkyMunky (Mind me just calling you Chunky unless otherwise?): You have been a loyal ass reader man. I'm really grateful. Onto the review itself.

Firstly, thanks! Glad to see I make you happy. Also I did not realise it was that bad. I assumed that the situation kind of cooled down by now.

Secondly, yes. It is CMNE is pronounced Carmine. I know, I know. Lazy. But I don't really give a care rn.

Thirdly, oh damn really? I did not know that. What am I supposed to do with that info?

Before we get on with the fic, I have to sat that transcribing your script from G docs sucks a buncha ass! I mean, it works fine but you gotta redo all the bolding and italics and underlining and it just is so exhausting!

You may also recognise some names and references to other IPs. Try and guess where they're from! I hope it doesn't take you out of the mood too much! I can't really come up with names and I find them to be perfect honestly. Do lmk.

With regards to the polls, I realise that cycling the polls regularly is more trouble than it's worth, so I'm not doing that. Instead, I'm just gonna leave one up till I finish the next chapter, by which it will be taken down and replaced. As of writing this author's note, it's the original one on Lelouch's semblance. I encourage you to vote if you haven't already. On that note...

Lelouch's ability is by no means as OP as his Geass is. It is less of a dominion of the mind and more of a really powerful persuasion. I have dominion lined up for someone else. Do keep that in mind when you're polling. (Ik that 'Obedience' is misleading AF but it fits pretty well so I'll leave up to the vote.)

If you guys are hoping to see some action, I'm sorry to say but this chapter ain't it. I know. I know. Like wtf. RWBy was based almost exclusively on cool fights how could you. I'm sorry for the lack of action but I feel it would have been rushed if I churned out a fight scene in this chapter. In other words, a shitty fight. And it would not fit this chapter's end tbh. I promise that you'll see action of some kind soon (soon as in next chapter, not as in next month or whatever I have no idea when I can get a new chapter out by with my schedule being the way it is).

Once more, I hope y'all are safe and healthy. Take heart. Cherish your loved ones and improve yourselves in a time when everyone else seems to be depriving. We can get through this as long as we're responsible, careful and considerate. So please, don't be a dick.

Without further ado, onto the fic!

(Note: not as long as the previous chapter but still kind of dialogue-heavy)

Posted: 10/07/20

Chapter 5

These brave men will protect my Kingdom in my absence. My Paladins will shield my people from the dangers of the night. And if need be from the monster that is humanity.

-Arslan "The Lionhearted" di Britannia, 33rd Emperor of the Britannian Empire

-Page Break-

"~expect light showers in the evening. Back to you Lisa!"

"Thanks, Gerald. In other news, to recap this morning's events, there was a Grimm attack in the commercial district of Vale, beginning at 07:30. Orchestrated by infamous gangster Roman Torchwick, it was reported by some of the Huntsmen and Huntresses that he was working with the White Fang, the radical Faunus rights movement. Thankfully, the combined forces of Beacon and Atlas held off the attack. However, at 8:20 there was another invasion, this time starting from the agricultural district and moving into the industrial zone. While Beacon and Atlas were able to arrive on-site, a surprise appearance by the Britannian Prime Minister's forces fought back what is now known online as "The Second Wave." Meanwhile, the hashtags #Breach and #BreachHeroes are trending online. Theresa Greene has more."

Cinder let out a noncommittal grunt as the holo screen changed to show the inside of an atrium. And right smack in the middle was a bubbly looking woman with wavy green hair. As she watched the news, she checked the time on her scroll. It was 11:30.

While watching, she was digging her nails with a curved, nasty-looking knife that her mistress gave her as a "graduation gift". "For anytime you are otherwise defenceless, when your back's against the wall. Who knows? You may just have a fighting chance. It's always good to be prepared," she remembered the Witch lecturing her. It was unusual for the immortal to give such sagely and dare she say, friendly advice. Granted, that was spoiled when she was promptly thrown out into the Grimmlands for three days to survive with one days' worth of food but that's not the point. Before she had Midnight, she used this little thing to defend herself from both human and Grimm. And it served, and continued to serve her well.

It was an elegant weapon. A curved, ebony handle with carmine highlights that fit snugly in the palm of her hand even now. A likewise curved, golden blade with a streak of iridescence along its toothy, serrated edge. All in all, it looked like a slightly straightened 'S' (she was twelve when she first received it, don't judge her). Just before the inside curve of the blade, where metal and wood met, a tiny bit of silver stuck out, serving to protect its wielder's hand. Strangely, said protective piece had a tiny kink in the middle. Combined with the nigh-flush lines running across and along the blade as well as on the hilt, the weapon promised a killing prowess deadlier than what it seemed at first glance. Sometimes, it seemed to just thrum with power and excitement.

After all these years, she still chose to keep it by her side. Call it what you will. Intuition, safety or just a security blanket. But she always felt safer when she had her mistress's gift on hand or nearby, if only marginally. Even when she moved onto Midnight and even later when she stole a fraction of the Maiden's power, she continued to hold it close to her, even if it just sat pretty in a pocket or a pouch somewhere. It was always at the ready, almost waiting to strike. She knew she could count on it to protect her.

How fitting it was for its waiting and inevitable nature that she named it Twilight.

She was brought out of her uncharacteristically sentimental musings by the news channel's flashy displays as Theresa Greene began her spiel.

"Thank you, Lisa. There has been a noticeable surge of support from the public towards this morning's defenders. We spoke to some of the witnesses as well as the defenders. This is what they had to say."

"So then the Grimm was like "HISSS!" and we were all like "Pow!Pow!Pow!"

That was little red.

"We had to cancel our scheduled field assignment to get here on time. We definitely made the right choice."

The white knight.

"I know it's weird to say this but it felt fun fighting all those Grimm."

The bimbo.

"I'm just glad everyone's safe."

The invincible girl.

"I hope that the ones behind this will be brought to justice and that the White Fang will change for the better."

The cat.

As the news droned on and on, singing praises to the defenders, she groaned in boredom. She had to get any info she could on the new arrivals but this just sucked. She had half a mind to pass this on to Emerald and Mercury but who was she kidding? What they'd gather would barely scratch the surface. So there she sat for the past hour, notes in hand, ready to latch onto any bit of information that may prove useful.

"We've come here to not only establish stronger ties between Vale and Britannia but also participate in the tournament and show the world who we are."

Like that.

"That was Lelouch Lamperouge speaking, Leader of Team LRGS. They are largely credited with holding off the second wave on their own. Currently, I'm at the Council Hall in Dell, where many have gathered to witness a new height in Britannia-Vale relations. Moments ago, a new treaty was signed by the Council and a historic moment for Vale-Britannia ties was forged. Have a listen."

As the screen cut to who she assumed was the aforementioned Prime Minister, Cinder perked up. This could be interesting.

"'-I wish to put our Kingdoms' past of bloodshed and strife behind us and to look ahead to the future that we can forge together. One of peace, prosperity, cooperation and brotherhood.' That, ladies and gentlemen, are the words of His Majesty, Charles zi Britannia. To that end, Britannia will not only open up its ports and borders for trade. We will be sharing our technology and knowledge with the rest of Remnant and take steps to ensure that the fifth Kingdom will be seen and acknowledged as equal to the Four."

"After his speech, the Prime Minister and the Council signed the "Britanni-Valian Treaty", a bilateral deal between the Kingdoms which will see an increase in international trade, knowledge transfers, diplomacy and tourism. This includes data on their local Grimm species, technology and history, all of which will be uploaded onto the CCT networks by the end of the week. Britannia has also pledged contributions towards Beacon Academy, mainly in the form of educational texts, training equipment and a combat simulator. Furthermore, Lieutenant Bianca Hail was awarded an outstanding service medal for her management and defence of Vale. "

As Theresa spoke, the screen cut to the Kingdoms' diplomats signing the treaty and shaking hands, smiling widely to the flashes and clicks of cameras. Around them, in stark contrast, the security forces of Atlas stood alert, with General Ironwood standing on the stage, clapping away with the lieutenant by his side, a shining silver medal pinned on her breast. Behind the Prime Minister, Team LRGS stood stone-faced, dressed in their black and gold uniforms, chests puffed out proudly and their left shoulders glinting in the light.

Cinder's gaze focused on the four, especially their black-haired leader. With how he held himself and the gaze he cast upon the room, it was plain to see that he was the most watchful of them. She had a more than sneaking suspicion that he held power and knew how to use it, something that just left her feeling all warm and tingly inside. The prospect of a challenge, of a worthy opponent destined to be ground to dust under her heel, made her lick her lips in sick anticipation of their terrified faces and her heart race at the thought of her reward. The thought of them looking up to her in fear and realising the futility of resistance was intoxicating.

'Britannia or no, once I have what I deserve, they won't stand a chance,' she cackled to herself.

Unbeknownst to her, she did giggle to herself. Quite dizzily in fact. One that saw a previously-entering-the-room Mercury slowly back out and walk down the hall, pretending he saw nothing. As the girl in red continued to fantasise about her success, the news continued to drone on and on about the implications and whatnot and opportunities for Vale and yadda yadda yadda.

Right now she couldn't give a damn.

'Alas,' she mentally continued, 'if I am to be able to utterly destroy them, I must find and understand their weaknesses. Cripple them. Then go for the throat. But how?'

Just then, her eye was drawn to the news, the camera panned over to the Britannia delegation once more, zooming in on prominent figures and providing further info on the deal. But Cinder heard nothing.

She was too focused on the four 'Paladins' as they were called (an idiotic name in her opinion. What kind of White Knight fantasy did this Kingdom think they were living?). As her gaze landed on their leader, a line from her little spy session earlier that day came to mind.

"You never had a relationship before huh?" she asked an oblivious audience. As the screen cut to another frame of the four, she leaned forward and her hand began to reach out, almost as if to cradle something. Only for her to catch herself and harden her gaze, the outreaching hand quickly turning into a vengeful fist, crushing her potential target as if to swear vengeance on him. She took a moment to breathe and sit back down. What was going on?

'No matter,' she told herself. Once more her eyes darted back to the boy, now locked in a steely glare filled with determination. As the makings of a plan came to fruition in her mind, she absentmindedly played with her hair. With a lick of her lips, she all but finalised her decision. All that was left was to discuss (read: dictate) it with Emerald and Mercury later.

'Looks like those lessons will come in handy after all,' she thought to herself. With a nod of satisfaction, she switched off the screen and stood up. She needed a break.


Meanwhile, in the atrium of the Council Hall, councillors, diplomats, esteemed businessmen made nice with another, engaging in small talk, discussing future plans, gossiping, making connections and flitting about the chamber or talking amongst themselves on standing tables dotted about the floor. Waiters with drinks patrolled the floor and massive buffet tables were set up along the sides of the chamber.

As they did, General Ironwood felt out of place. Even though he attended functions like this regularly, he never really felt comfortable around high society. Things were too tense at times. It always felt like someone wanted him dead. And with his position, it was way more than likely.

The presence of Britannia did not help.

Personally? He had no qualms with them. If anything, he admired their tenacity, all the more so after the Nihon crisis and the Mistrali-Britannia war. For a Kingdom to not only stand alone but thrive and prosper in such hostile environments truly deserved recognition.

Professionally? He was shitting his pants. The arms race between Atlas and Britannia, though having toned down the past few years, was a very tense subject. Their rivalry and the opinion most Atlesians, elites especially, had of the so-called "rogue Kingdom" was common knowledge and in no way healthy if they wanted to repair relations. Given the souring of said opinion with the outbreak of war, all the more so. Even now, in the atrium, there was a thick tension that many tried to ignore. One caused by a seemingly perpetual staredown between his forces and the Prime Minister's, covering the doors, the upper levels and patrolling the perimeter. He thanked whatever powers there were that both sides were disciplined enough to not start any fights.

"Note to self: Keep Jacque, his elites and the rest of the council off my back until I find a way to settle them," he muttered to himself as he took a sip of water.

"Sir?" asked Lieutenant Bianca Hail. Ah yes, young Bianca, the star of the second Breach. After deflecting a few pleasantries and congratulations, the young brunette had retreated to his side. Not that he could blame her. He felt the same way the first time.

"Nothing of your concern, Lieutenant."

"Understood, sir. Now about the prisoners?" she asked.

"We'll keep Torchwick with us. The rest will be sent over to Ladon Supermax until further notice."

"Very well sir."

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the Prime Minister, a Prince Schneizel if he recalled the file correctly. Around him were several notable figures, all chatting him up and sneaking in one or two business proposals at the same time. To his credit, the Prince seemed to brush them off like they were nothing while still maintaining an amicable disposition. What was interesting was that while his security forces guarded the Council Hall, the four trainee huntsmen he brought along ('Squires' he heard) stood nearby like a bodyguard detail. Even while they themselves were having conversations, they seemed to keep an eye on the Prince. Speaking of which.

'Graduated from Monastery College and is a licensed Paladin. Served as governor of Britanni-Nihon for 4 years before being appointed Prime Minister. Renowned for his capability at chess and sharp mind. Second Prince of the Empire. Born in the region of Mordia. Son of Charles zi Britannia and Joanna el Britannia, née Darc.'

As the General continued to run through the memory of his potential adversary's file, he stopped when he saw the crowd parting toward him. Looking up from his drink, he saw the Prince striding over to him with an air of confidence, all the while talking to one of the squires. A Lelouch Lamperouge if he remembered correctly. By the twins they were tall. Save for a small minority, the political and social elites had to crane their necks upward when engaging in conversation with the foreigners. And they looked like complete asshats doing so. But James wasn't intimidated. He couldn't be. He had the weight of his Kingdom resting on his shoulders. Dependent on him, practically solely, to represent them abroad in situations like these. So with practiced ease, he took a deep breath, straightened himself out, got his bearings in order and the General braced himself for whatever this new adversary would throw at him.

He just hoped that there wouldn't be much trouble. The Vytal Festival was already a burden on its lonesome.


-your bikes and the rest of your belongings should be transported and available to your team by the end of today. Tomorrow at the latest. Any other questions Lelouch?"

"Any change of plan in regards to our asset acquisition and agent assistance?"

"Macavity will have to wait a while longer I'm afraid. But don't worry about that. Focus on activating the network and establishing presence. I want a good first impression. I'll deal with contacting our agent. Understood?"

"Aye."

"Good then. Now, look sharp and remember the plan for now. The tin man is near."

"Right then," acknowledged Lelouch. He touched his ear and spoke curtly. "LRGS on me." A short string of acknowledgements was received and he looked up to see the two men, beginning to size each other up and surrounded by curious bureaucrats. The air, previously uncomfortably tense, was so rife with it that it was stifling. But alas, Lelouch had to soldier on. So he quietly closed in on the Prime Minister.

"General."

"Prime Minister."

The two men greeted each other and shook hands. Given that this was the focal point of the world's leading armies, things were going remarkably well.

'Doesn't make this any less awkward though,' remarked Lelouch as he watched from the crowd.

"So. How goes the Emperor?" asked Ironwood. 'Wow. Great way to break the ice James,' he chided himself

"Oh he goes. In good health. Thank you for asking," replied Schneizel. "How goes your city in the sky?"

"It's going well," said the general.

"That's good to hear. You must always be cautious of the pillars that uphold the capital," said Schneizel in oddly sage advice.

"Do elaborate, please," said the general.

"Sir, if I may intrude for a moment," chimed in a voice.

Turning, the two men saw Lelouch, now stood just beside them with a pair of champagne flutes in his hands.

"Why thank you, mister...Lamperouge, right?" asked Ironwood.

"Correct sir," he replied.

'Yes!' celebrated James internally. He found that any small victory now helped keep him focused on the greater goal and today was no exception. As he took the flutes and handed one to his counterpart, he found himself calmer and more confident.

"So, Prime Minister. Please continue. About the pillars."

"Yes, of course. Now obviously the advice is not totally literal. But for a kingdom to rise to such heights, it needs people below to elevate it. So it would bode said kingdom well to ensure that said "pillars" remain strong and steadfast, especially in the tough times. I'm sure you agree, no?

"Indeed Prime Minister. The people of Mantle definitely are what allows Atlas to rise above."

"Then I'm sure you agree that the citizens of Mantle be properly taken care of, yes? You wouldn't want the pillar to collapse under all the weight now. We've already seen what the result of that is once already."

There was a sharp and quiet hiss as onlookers drew in their breaths, taken aback at the subtle jab from one kingdom to another. Ironwood, while impressed, was just as surprised and had to take a moment to recollect himself.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat. "Well, yes. You are right about that being the case. Truly some wise words, Prime minister. But let us not dwell on the past but focus on the future of our nations instead. Shall we?" asked the general as he swept his hand across the room to a vacant table.

"Let's. It truly pleases me that despite this being a Valian event I see Atlas willing to forge new ties," replied Schneizel. As they made their way to the table, Ironwood looked back at Bianca, who was trailing behind them with the 4 squires nearby.

"Lieutenant, see to it that the prisoners are promptly transferred."

"Understood sir."

"Oh? Do you mean from this morning's incident? Perhaps Britannia could provide some assistance with the matter."

"The gesture is much appreciated, Prime Minister. But I'm afraid I must decline."

"Very well then. Lelouch!"

"Sir!"

"Proceed with the rest of your duties for today after we're done here. Then take a rest. If the crew wants to get pissed I'll allow it."

"Oh! Why thank you sir!"

"Carry on."

"Understood."

"Pardon the breakaway, General. Now, where were we…"

With the two leaders now seated at the table, the rest of LRGS dispersed back into the crowd, leaving Lieutenant Hail and Lelouchd standing in the middle of the atrium.

"Sooo, you guys are lucky," said the lieutenant suddenly.

"Sorry?" asked LRGS' leader.

"You just need to unload some books and get settled right?"

"More or less."

"Then you get to go drinking afterwards. I envy you really."

"You want to talk about it?"

"Sure. Why not? Haven't got anywhere to be till 1 anyways," accepted Bianca.

"So, what's wrong with your stuff?" he asked as he began to walk over to a secluded alcove of the chamber.

"By itself? Not much. It's just that today's been really draining, with the two attacks and all that jazz. I mean, the recognition is great and all, but I just feel so drained right now," sighed the woman as she leaned against the wall. To her credit, she hid her exhaustion extremely well.

"If that's the case, I must say that you are taking it pretty well."

"Well, we have to soldier on through these things, try to be disciplined about it, you know? I've had worse after all. Just got to be grateful for the peaceful times and look forward to small blessings and rewards. Like going for a drink with friends."

"Mmm," hummed Lelouch in understanding. Reaching for a passing waiter, he took a pair of glasses filled with red wine and passed one over to her. "I'll drink to that."

"Wait are you even legal?"

"In Britannia? Yes. I'm 19. Minimum age is 18. Why? Did they raise the age?"

"Eh, it's nothing. Just curious," shrugged the lieutenant.

"...you're not gonna lash me for drinking while on guard? I thought Atlas was uptight about these things."

"Okay. Firstly, ouch. Secondly, I can see why you would think that. And thirdly, I'm not paid enough to police drinking limits, especially with all the extra shit that comes with international law," replied Bianca before she took a BIG swig of her wine.

"Ha! Cheers to that," chuckled Lelouch before taking a swig of his own. After that they settled into a comfortable silence, making small talk and just enjoying each other's company, something that garnered a few curious and confused glances. A Britannia and Atlesian being casual with one another? That's impossible! Could pigs fly yet?

"Say, Lieutenant," spoke Lelouch, catching her attention. By now, they were nursing their third glass and she was beginning to look a bit… looser. Perfect.

'Okay that came out wrong,' Lelouch said to himself.

"Yeah what's up?" asked Bianca.

"I've got a question. I was hoping you could answer it."

"I'll try my best. Go on."

Moment of truth.

"You see, I have a little favour to ask you," he said. Unbeknownst to any, his eyes shined a deep, menacing amethyst for the briefest of moments.


"Back it up! That's it! Steady, steady…" grunted out Gino. In his hands was a bar attached to a large, heavy-looking steel box locked shut, with tiny holes uniformly lining its sides and red tape wrapped around it. With him, a team of four crew members from the Pinafore were helping, and struggling, to carefully haul it from a cargo bullhead onto the grounds of Beacon, where they would be safely kept until the time was right.

"...and lower!" The five men let out a sigh of relief as they placed their load onto an awaiting cart, locking it in place with clamps. As they huffed and puffed in exhaustion, one of the crew members asked, "Ya think we'll have some time for a few pints later?"

"Perhaps. I'll talk to the captain about it. See if we have the time to," shrugged Lelouch as he came over to inspect the locks. Like his teammate, he had shed his uniform jacket, leaving him in his white shirt with its sleeves rolled up. Satisfied, he turned over to the five. "But we gotta finish loading up first," he said as he jerked a thumb behind him. There was the bullhead, its cargo hold gaping, guarded by the Prime Minister's soldiers, as if to taunt them with the numerous other pieces inside. They all groaned at the sight.

"Oh head up you lot," scoffed Lelouch as he made his way over to another box. "It's not as if we've lifted heavier."

"Yeah but that doesn't make this any less tiring as fuck!" complained the stocky blond. They had been handling the crates for the past hour! "What time is it anyway?!"

"I guess you're right there. And it's now 1630." conceded Lelouch with a roll of his eyes as he squat low and grabbed the bar, along with a few more crew members. "On three, guys. 1, 2, 3, up!" With a heave, they got it off the floor and shuffled over to the carts.

A hearty "HO HO!" announced the presence of one Professor Peter Port. "I must say, young man," began the teacher, "seeing you hard at work like this reminds me of my younger days. Thank you for the help!"

"It's nothing Professor…?" Gino asked.

"Oh pardon me! Port. Peter Port," he answered as he thrust out a hand.

"Well, it's nice to meet you sir," said Gino as he accepted the handshake. They silently regarded each other for a moment before releasing.

"Hm! A strong grip! I like it!" exclaimed Port.

"Why thank you, sir," cordially answered Gino.

"Please Mister…" began Port as he lead on his sentence.

"Weinberg. Gino Weinberg," the blond supplied. He turned towards the other crew members. "You guys go ahead, pull someone else in to help. I'll be back soon."

"Well, Mister Weinberg. You need not be so formal with me! Professor Port of just plain old Professor is fine!" laughed the Grimm Studies teacher.

"And that is duly noted Professor," cut in Lelouch. He just finished checking more of the locks and came over to see what was going on. He stuck out his hand to introduce himself, "Lamperouge. Lelouch Lamperouge. A pleasure to meet you."

"The same to you Mister Lamperouge!" greeted Port heartily. "I must thank you boys and the men for helping transport these Grimm!" His eyes gleamed with excitement, the prospect of wrestl-learning! about these new and (relatively) unknown species filled him curiosity and anticipation.

"I'm sure you will professor," smiled Lelouch.

"Though I was wondering. Where's the other half of your team?"

"Oh they're helping your history teacher I believe."

"Ah! So they're with Oobleck! I'd guess that he put them to sorting and moving all those new texts you got us."

-Meanwhile-

"Where does this go professor?!"

"Suzaku! Did I not say this already?! That goes under 'reference-history' not 'loaning-history'! And Rolo! It's 42601 not 42069!"

"Hehehe. Nice."

"Now's not the time for childish jokes Rolo! And be careful with those crates! I want those relics INTACT!"

"Why are the crates on fire?!"

"WHAT?! Put it out put it out!"

"AAAAAHHH!"

-Back with the Grimm shipment-

"May Oum have mercy," shuddered Port. His cheery disposition gave way to slumped shoulders, a paling face and a frightened quivering of his moustache.

"...Right let's move away from that," spoke Lelouch. "Professor, I think you'll be delighted with some of the specimens we've brought with us today."

"Very good. Any particular favourites among them?"

"Well, it's not a favourite exactly BUT I do find one of the more challenging species we've faced is the Abelius..us? Abelii? My apologies, the plural always confuses me," replied Gino.

"Interesting!" remarked the professor. "What is it exactly?"

"That would be telling, Professor Port. What I can say without ruining much of the surprise is that it's similar to a Beringel." Gino winced as a loud *CRASH* sounded out behind him. The crew members were flitting about the cargo, checking for any breaches in the containment.

"Playing coy I see," responded Port. "Very well! I'm up to the challenge! Oh how that reminds me of the hunts I used to go on with my friends! It was a clear, cool autumn day. I was in the springtime of my youth! We were trekking through the Forever Fall forest when we saw a-"

"ROOOOOAAAR!"

A furious roar thundered across the courtyard, emanating from the dropped crate and startling the crew handling it. As they backed away cautiously, the box began to rattle and shake, being thrown this way and that by whatever was inside.

"Pardon us for a moment professor," said Lelouch as he and Gino excused themselves. "I'm afraid that story will have to wait."

They strode over to the imprisoned Grimm with purpose. "What's with us and interruptions today?" grumbled Lelouch under his breath. "It's like it's being used as some lazy and convenient way to transition a scene or event."

"Whatever Lelouch," answered Gino. "We need you to focus right now. Can you calm him?" he asked as they reached the beast.

"Hmph. Child's play," answered his leader proudly.

"Careful. Pride before the fall," cautioned Gino with no real caution.

"The day that advice actually applies to me will be the day I die," retorted Lelouch as he went over to the back of the box. "Besides, I plan enough for that to not happen." As he said that, the front of the crate dented outwards, albeit slightly, with a deafening *BANG*.

"Hey don't jinx it, man," warned Gino. "Also, you might want to hurry up there Lulu."

"Do you need any help, Mister Weinberg?"

"We're fine Professor! Thanks!" Meanwhile, the crew members and guards had quickly scrambled back to the bullhead and retrieved their guns, now aimed at the crate in case things went sideways.

By then, Lelouch had plucked with his left hand what looked like a small, thin, silver spike from the box, with a flat top. It looked like a nail. He pulsed his aura through the spike and watched it gain a faint purple glow. With a deep breath, he channelled his semblance into it, dark purple, bordering on black, veins beginning to bulge out of his left hand and wrist. And then he struck, slipping the spike through one of those tiny holes along the box.

"Sleep boy!"

A last defiant roar was heard as he felt the spike pierce the flesh of the beast. Its roars and cries now non-existent and the courtyard eerily quiet, everyone bracing for a second defiant outburst.

Once it became clear that it had totally settled down, the soldiers lowered their rifles while Lelouch released his hand from the spike, leaving it stuck inside the now docile Grimm. As he backed away from the cage, the crew stepped in to transport it onto its awaiting cart and his hands dropped to his knees.

"Bravo! Bravo! Very well done Mister Lamperouge," applauded Professor Port as he walked over to the student. "Exemplary handling of the beast! Tell me, was that your semblance?"

"Indeed… it was Professor. Or rather it... was a part… of it. It's handy in fighting Grimm but very… aura expensive," panted Lelouch as he tried to catch his breath. "I must ask you to not reveal it to your students. I'd much rather do it at my leisure, surprise people during the tournament. Is that alright?"

"Oh, it's no issue. Consider it done!" answered Port. "Now tell me what species proves to be so feisty!" As he said that, he nodded his head at the cage, now clamped securely on the cart.

"If its cries were anything to go by, I think I have an inkling. Just let me check," said Lelouch. He went over to the carts, now linked up in a train. "Let's see here…Yep. As I thought. This little guy here is a Nemean." spoke the student.

"And what are they like?" asked the professor.

"Agile. Heavily Armoured. Heavy," briefly replied Lelouch. "One of my favourite species of Grimm alongside the Nightmare."

"Both sound very formidable!"

"Indeed they are. I look forward to your practical lessons for when we face them."

"Hey Lelouch," budged in Gino, "we need to do anything else?"

"I don't think so," replied his leader, checking his scroll. "Yeah we're all done here."

"Right then," affirmed Gino. He turned to the crew members and hollered out, "Alright guys! Pack it up. We're moving the beasties to the storage centre." Cries of affirmation and joy came in response. "I could go for a cold one tonight. You Lelouch?"

"I'm sure we all could. Need to take it easy though. We still have lessons." The beeping of an electric horn alerted them to the carts moving off and they made their way to ensure a smooth transfer. "Professor Port, I must apologise for interrupting you halfway. I'm sure it is a lovely story. Unfortunately, we're quite busy right now."

"I understand my boy. Besides, most of the people I regale my stories to tend to drift off after a while, so I'm sure you wouldn't have enjoyed them," defended Port with a tad of disappointment in his voice.

"Then why don't you join us for a drink later? Surely your tales would find a more receptive crowd there! And I'm sure the men would appreciate the stories you tell."

At that, Port's eyebrows perked up in joy. "HO HO!" he cried. "Now you're speaking my language!"

And so off they went to stow the Grimm away.


Ochre "Oak" Nago really hated life right now.

Just a few hours ago, he had the immense pleasure of fighting and wrecking the Schnee brat. As much as he wanted to go after the traitor Belladonna as well, the stupid train crashed. He vaguely remembered getting pulled from the rubble (how he was not crushed or devoured by Grimm was beyond him) and getting placed in an ambulance.

Now here he was, in the prisoner wing of a hospital in Vale, hopped up on morphine, handcuffed to his bed with a broken leg, a fractured jaw and a snapped tusk. But most of all, he was worried sick for his family. He joined the White Fang for a chance for revenge against their oppressors and to earn enough to provide for his family. And part of that hinged on not getting caught.

'So much for that,' he sighed bitterly.

Great. Now they knew who he was and the authorities would surely go after his family. With them probably being on the Schnee's payroll, it was more than likely that there would be more than just an "investigation". On top of that, Atlas was where the White Fang had the LEAST presence and influence, so he couldn't secure their safety even if he could somehow contact his comrades. In his desperation, he had contemplated escaping the hospital, martyring himself or even ratting out the rest of the Fang for his family. They were always opposed to him joining the cause anyway.

'But none of those would work!' he bemoaned. It was at this juncture that he realised how helpless he and the rest of the White Fang actually were for the civilians they "fought" for. No matter what they did, their loved ones suffered for their actions! He felt sick inside.

'Can't believe I followed that shit! After all I went through?! THIS is how much we can do for the children?!' realised Ochre. 'We're useless! At least the protests brought issues to light!'

As he simmered in his rage, he failed to notice the chatter outside his room. Nor did he hear the pneumatic hiss of the door sliding open. It was only when he heard a loud "AHEM!" that he stopped and looked up. A woman. In Atlas uniform. Snooty. Brown hair in a bun. What was odd though was that he could pick up the smell of booze, even with all the disinfectant in the air. But then again, that was not his focus at the moment. He was too concerned with his life.

"Great. One of Ironwood's cronies. What do you want?" he painfully scowled at the woman.

"Lieutenant Bianca Hail. A pleasure," she curtly introduced. "Today's your lucky day, Mister Nago," she stated as she pulled out a tablet. An office scroll. "You're being transferred to Britannian custody."

"What? Why?"

"Orders from the council. It's out of our hands. Enjoy your stay here. It may very well be your last." As she said that, she took out a scroll from her pocket and slid it over to him. "Here's a scroll. If you want to contact your loved ones or give us information, use this."

"Yeah. Right," he snorted as he accepted the scroll.

"If you have no questions, then I bid you good day." She promptly turned and walked out the room, the door hissing shut behind her. As he pondered on her words, he felt something off about the scroll's texture. Flipping it over, he saw a little piece of paper stuck onto it with some writing.

"Await further instruction from the next visit. We're getting you out," it read. After he committed it to memory, he did what years' of experience in the Fang taught him and he ate the note. Was it the Fang? No, it couldn't be. They were handy in their spy network but with this level of security? Impossible. Atlas? His family?

'In my dreams,' he dismissed.

As he continued to ponder, a piece of information came back to him. Why was he being given to the Britannians? They had zero business with the Fang, much less him! Sure, they were known for being more progressive with faunus rights but that did not explain why he was singled out! With their tight borders, escaping to the empire was mostly a pipe dream! Still, there was no other main suspect. So as he racked his brain, trying to find an answer, one thought kept coming back to him.

'What the fuck was going on?'

Meanwhile, a stoic Bianca Hail was walking down the hospital corridors, tapping away on her tablet when she paused. Her gaze gained clarity then confusion before glancing back down at the tablet. She shook her head to get rid of the grogginess it seemed to have. Must've drunk too much at the banquet. Not that she minded. That Lelouch kid was fun to have a conversation with.

What was she doing again?

As her eyes scanned the device, they widened in recognition upon seeing in big bold font:

-PRISONER PROFILE-

NAME: OCHRE NAGO

HEIGHT: 7"0

WEIGHT: 175 lbs

AFFILIATION: WHITE FANG (LIEUTENANT)

CHARGES: TERRORISM, DESTRUCTION OF PRIVATE PROPERTY, ASSAULT, BATTERY, MURDER expand list…

NOTABLE TRAITS: BOAR FAUNUS, FEATURES MANIFESTED AS TUSKS

TRANSFER TO: LADON SUPERMAX PRISON

CONFIRM?

'Oh right. That,' she reminded herself. She promptly did a final scan to make sure everything was in order. Then she submitted the profile and completed the final steps. 'Done and done!'

She took a quick stretch before she made a beeline for the elevator, determined to get as much RnR as she could before she was called on duty again. Yet she felt as if something was off. But she could not put a finger on it. She did all the prisoners already. She oversaw Torchwick's afternoon interrogation. She did everything on her list for the day.

So why did she feel so… uneasy?


Back when he was just a regular street thug, Roman loved to irritate the hell out of the police. So much so that whenever he found himself arrested and in jail, he would make it a point to annoy the guards as much as possible, that is until he was released, of course, courtesy of his godfather. Almost like a game.

Bonus points if he could gaslight them or force them to switch out early.

So high in the sky, in one of the Atlesian airships, Roman Torchwick did his best to be as obnoxious and annoying as possible. First it was complaining about the cell conditions. Then it was requesting a trip to the toilet every half hour or so. Now he was singing a very beautiful and rousing (read: ear piercing and off key as hell) rendition of a folk song. One he remembered his old man used to sing to him as a kid.

Oum how he missed him at times.

"AlaS, mY love, yOu do ME wROng,

TO casT Me oFf DiScOURteoUSly.

FOR I havE loVEd you WELL and LoNg,

DeLIGHTing in YouR COMpany."

He snickered to himself when he heard the current pair of guards outside begin to moan and groan in exhaustion. His response? He proceeded to belt out the chorus as scratchily and pitchy as possible.

"STOP! For the love of Oum stop!" cried one of the guards as he banged the door.

"Only if you let me out of here!" proclaimed Roman in a singsong manner.

The stifled sobs of frustration was music to his ears.

Roman, you are outdoing yourself,' he self congratulated. 'Torchwick 1. Dumb Atlas guards 0.'

Just as he was about to begin serenading them with the second verse, he was rudely interrupted by his cell door hissing open. In walked another Atlas… officer? In his hands was a tray of food. Weird. Usually the guards would be the ones on meal duty. Not that it bothered him. He was all for spiting higher authority.

"Good afternoon, officer! How are you?I hope your day was horrible!" he greeted with faux politeness.

"Oh it could have been worse Torchwick," the officer said as he set down the tray, extended its legs to form the table and undid Roman's wrist shackles. As the mobster rubbed his sore wrists, he continued to pay attention to the officer in front of him. "You seem awfully chipper given the circumstances."

"Well I find that optimism is the best way to improve one's mood. What's it to you? Also, any chance you could undo the big one?" he asked, pointing to a large belt that wrapped around his waist and was connected to the wall."

"Nothing. Nothing at all. It seems to be working. I could hear you from the bridge," noted the officer as he closed the door behind him. After it hissed shut and locked with a soft *click*, he turned back to the criminal, leaning against the door. "Though most would say that's denial. Also, no."

"Ha! Fuck what they would say," scoffed Roman. "So are you just gonna stand there?"

"Yes I am," replied the officer. Now that he was stil, Roman realised that the cap cast a shadow over the officer's eyes. And he seemed to be deliberately avoiding the light of the single bulb in the center of the cell.

"Why? You some kind of vampire? Afraid of the light?" japed Roman smugly.

"No. Nothing of the sort," chuckled his companion. "Onto a different topic, that was an interesting song, butchered singing aside. I don't think many heard it before."

"It's a family song. And if you're trying to get me to talk, you're doing a shitty job," remarked Torchwick as he leaned back and put his arms behind his head, one leg over the other. "I already told mister Big and my answer stays the same. I'm the boss! And don't you forget it!"

"Right and dogs go to the butterfly farm," dismissed the officer. Pushing off the wall, he slouched and pulled out a scroll from his pocket.

"Slouching now?" taunted Roman as he shoveled a spoonful of gruel into his mouth. "Didn't think you snobs could do that, what with those sticks so far up your asses and all. What would Mr Ironwood say if he saw you?"

"Not much, seeing as to how he has never actually seen me," replied the soldier, not bothering to look up from the scroll.

"Wait what?"

"Enough about me. Let's talk about you," said the officer all of a sudden, pocketing the scroll. "You know, I didn't think that of all the music in the world, that such a song would be one you enjoyed. That your taste would so closely match your father's."

"Be careful now," growled the mobster. "You're on thin ass ice."

"Why would I care about your dead old man?"

Roman slammed his hands on the table, its flimsy frame shaking under the shock. "You watch your fucking mouth!" growled Torchwick. "Don't talk shit about my old man. You know jack shit about me!"

"Oh your file would say otherwise, Torchwick. It was very informative," calmly replied the officer, hands now clasped behind his back. "I know that your father raised you well, as much as he could. What would he say if he saw you now?"

"Fuck you! You don't know him!" hissed back Roman. He had not felt this angry in a long time. Whoever this prick was, he was good.

"Hah! If anything, I know more about him than you do," answered the officer condescendingly. That caught Roman off guard.

"W-what do you mean?!" he asked, emotions a mix of confusion and rage. "He wasn't no snooty ass Atlesian!"

"I never said that Jonathan was," replied the source of his anger.

"You have no right to say his name!"

"The song's called Greensleeves," said the officer out of the blue. Just like that, Roman's rage turned to shock and surprise, his mouth slack-jawed and hanging open.

"H-how do you know that?" he asked in trepidation.

"Like I said, I know more than you. How do you think I know your supposed 'family song'? Or that it's called Greensleeves?"

"Who are you?!"

"La lanterne brûle brillamment," spoke the officer. The words hit Roman like a truck and suddenly, all that fear, anger, shock and outrage left his eyes, replaced by a wide-eyed look of understanding, of comprehension as he tried to process years' of information.

Was it really time?

"Citizen of the underempire, know your place," spoke the officer with finality. With those words, Roman visibly calmed down, his eyes narrowed, any trace of smugness, arrogance or panic gone.

"So it's really time then?" asked the now collected criminal, his hands unclenching and his shoulders lowering.

"Yes," was the curt reply of the officer.

"Fine then." Roman sat back down on his bench, put one leg over the other and crossed his arms. "What do you need? I'm all ears."

"Good to see your calm," remarked the officer as he took a step forward, putting himself in the light. Squatting down, he put himself at Roman's eye level and looked into his eyes.

'Interesting colour,' noted Roman.

"Now then," he said, "Listen close and listen well. Here are your orders and what I need of you."

As the officer spoke, a pair of determined eyes of violet shined under the cap.

Kingdom Profiles

Subject: Britannia

Also known as:

-Britannian Empire

-Holy Britannian Empire (defunct)

-The Lesser Atlas

-Kingdom of Exiles

-The Fifth Kingdom

-The Dragon Continent

-The New Old World

-Kingdom of Beasts

Duchies:

-Britannia

-Mordia

-Valhalla

-Elysia

-Ventrillia

The Kingdom of Britannia, named after its founder Maria von Britannia, primarily consists of five major regions, also known as duchies. Old Britannia and Mordia lay to the east, Valhalla to the north, Elysia to the west and Ventrillia to the south, with smaller subregions, villages and even armies existing within them. Collectively, they are known as Britannia. Remarkably, seemingly by sheer force of will and a strong community effort, the Kingdom has been able to make, sustain and expand inland settlements, with even a few cities. In more recent history, Britannia has expanded its territory to cover some of the islands surrounding the continent, such as the Catachan archipelago and north Nihon.

Curiously, the people of Britannia do not follow the same cultural conventions as the rest of us. One very noticeable difference is their naming conventions. They never took part in the Great War and hence never found reason nor cultural drive to embrace what we perceive today as normal. They do not follow the colour-inspired names that we do.

That is to be expected given that they were in isolation for most of the Kingdom's existence barring a few outlying acts of diplomacy, trade and war. Along with what seems to be an innate compulsion to defy the conventions of Remnant (especially Atlas), they proudly maintain a monarchy. Furthermore, the Kingdom still embraces multilingualism, with each region sustaining dialects which are otherwise archaic. It was only recently, with the 98th Emperor's opening of the country and the Nihon crisis that the rest of Remnant was able to see its Fifth Kingdom without restriction.

-A Brief Introduction to Britannia, by Dr Bartholemew Oobleck

Translations:

'The Lantern Burns Bright'

Preview- Far Future

"Why hello there, Aunt Aggy."


"Hey, it's okay! I'm not going to hurt you. Here, I brought some food!"


"What about the incident on that express train? The murders?"

"Oh you mean les assassinats d'orient? That was all me."


"I knew you looked better in red."


"What's this? A second crush?"


"Fight! Fight to the bitter end! To your last breath!"


"I remember the war like it was yesterday."


"This is our turf now!"


"Perhaps we could come to an agreement."


"This is all you Britannians' fault!"


"Komu prinadlezhit sever!?"

Hello again! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Do lmk if there's any format, grammatical or spelling errors. Any advice on how to improve is welcome as always! (But try not to be too mean pls. I'm fragile. Also because courtesy/netiquette [do people still use that word?])

Did you guess the references? It's okay if you googled them I totally do that too.

I also hope you guys enjoy the little tidbits of info and sneak peeks/previews at the end of each chapter. It's hard to build a whole ass OC nation (so to speak) so I hope you guys like it? Do comment your thoughts!

Before I go off and move on with life, I wish you guys, one more time, good health and safety. You can get through this and you don't need to do it alone. Look to your friends and family. They will support you and you them.

I've nothing else to say. So until next time, this is backwardsaile signing out.