By the time this is up, the chapter of Arcanum meant to come out yesterday will be up. I've lost internet at my house due to heavy storms. Had to upload it today instead. That shouldn't impact much else and I've already called in for repairs, which they've promised on Wednesday, so next weekend's updates should be on schedule.


Chapter 2


"Test subjects. Specimens. Operational procedure." General James Ironwood let the documents fall on his desk. His mechanical hand tapped its fingers on the woodwork but if it had been following hi true wishes, it would be smashing through it right now. His other hand came up to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leaned into it. "In my Kingdom," he spat. "Less than two hour's flight from base. Is this all we have?"

"The White Fang did a good job destroying much of the facility," Winter reported, stood beside the door. Though he'd told her to be at ease, she stood straight with both hands linked behind her back. "What little we were able to recover has been transcribed and printed off there, sir. Specialist Ebi also added his thoughts in a separate document."

"And yours?"

"I thought those would be better delivered without a paper trail, sir." Winter waited for him to nod his approval. "It appeared to be a human testing facility, sir. Also, a rogue one. No consent, oversight or concern for the law."

Those matched his thoughts exactly and the printed documents made for disturbing reading. The detail was limited and much was separated with square brackets and the word `DAMAGED` written within to represent where they couldn't rescue the information, but what little they had was damning enough.

Human experimentation. On prisoners, no less. Not even criminals but people dragged in from outside. Ironwood rubbed his hand down his face as nausea threatened to bubble up. Though he was no stranger to the horrors of war, it was always easier to write it away when both sides signed up for battle. One small piece of information hurt more than any other.

/

Designation: Subject 003

Test Logs: [DAMAGED]

Name: Lavender Arc

Age: 15

Semblance: Telekinesis. Suitability for inheritance of [DAMAGED] untenable. Updated Status: Expendable.

Research Suggestion by Doctor O'Callaghan: With the subject no longer of any use for our testing, I humbly suggest using her as a means to motivate Subject 000. If termination is to be Subject 003's fate regardless, we may as well glean some use from her. Anything else would be wasteful, and I despise such an inefficient use of resources.

Research Suggestion Approved by [DAMAGED].

/

"Fifteen," he whispered. "Fifteen years old. And a girl by the name. This is sickening." Ironwood leafed through a few more pages, unsure if he should be displeased or not that there was no mention of her ultimate fate. "And this was an Atlas facility? There's no chance the helmet was planted to frame us, perhaps even by the White Fang?"

"None, sir. All helmets are serialised and I ran this one through the database. Private Morris. No black marks on his record."

"Where was he stationed?"

"That's the thing, sir. The records don't mention where he was assigned."

Sabotage, then. That was the only reason for it. Incompetence happened but he wouldn't assume it given the circumstances. Too convenient. Too well timed. "I want the database scrubbed. Use the excuse of a spot check, but I want every single Atlas soldier and their current location registered. If any are missing, get in touch with their units and demand answers."

Winter saluted. "Sir." On her way out, the door opened and a tall man stood within it. Winter saluted a second time. "Sir. General Sol."

"Former General, Specialist," the elderly man said. His face was covered with wrinkles and his hair had long since greyed. Despite that and the slight limp, he wore his old uniform and a chest festooned with medals both from his long years on the front line and then in command. "I'm retired. You needn't stand on ceremony for me."

"General Aldrin Sol." Ironwood said, standing.

"You as well, James?" Aldrin stepped out the way to allow Winter to exit, then moved inside and let the door close behind him. He moved rather swiftly for someone with a walking stick, using it to pull a seat out and sit. He chuckled as Ironwood hurried to pout him a glass of brandy. "And calling me General. A little strange for General Ironwood to be referring to me that way, isn't it?"

"Old habits die hard." Ironwood offered the drink and took his own seat. "It hardly helps when you walk around dressed in full uniform."

"You can take the man out of the army but never the army out of the man." Aldrin sipped and then winked. "Also, my wife always said she loves a man in uniform. I may not be quite the man I was, but I can dress the part."

Ironwood laughed and downed his drink. It didn't go unnoticed.

"Troubling news, General? Something to do with a certain facility…?"

"News travels fast, I see."

"I retired to the Council," Aldrin said by way of explanation. "And if there's one thing I learned in your position, it's that the Military Council always finds out things the same time I did. I'd call it spies if we both didn't know how chatty the cadets can be." Placing his glass down, Aldrin leaned forward. "The Council was going to summon you to discuss this. I convinced them to let me handle it instead."

"Honestly, Sol, I appreciate that. I can't deal with them right now."

"I imagine. News like this damages the soul." Aldrin gestured to the documents. "It burns deep inside. We do dark things in the name of our Kingdom, but war crimes exist for a reason."

Ironwood agreed with a hum and a long drink. While there was no escaping the harsh reality of collateral damage, Atlas was in the enviable position of being the strongest Kingdom in military terms, which let them dictate the rules of engagement. If they wished to take hours or days longer on an attack to minimise civilian casualties, they could afford to do so.

"What does the Council want? Me to be held accountable?"

"Nothing so pathetic. They might have, but I convinced them you knew nothing. Justice would be one thing they'd enjoy."

"Them and me both."

"Indeed. Beyond that, answers, I suppose. I explained we'd have precious few of either at this time. I've read the details. It sounds like one of Watts' old research camps. He always did have a passion for researching Semblances."

Ironwood paused with his glass to his mouth. "Semblances?" he muttered.

"Yes. Did you not notice? They talk about a young girl and list information. Name, age and Semblance. Curious that they would put such emphasis on the latter, no?" It was, and Ironwood frowned. "It seems to me they were researching her Semblance. Or something connected to it. It wouldn't be the first time something like this happened."

"The Schnee crisis."

"Yes." Sol sighed. "Two years before my retirement, where Ambrose Schnee, Willow Schnee's younger brother, was kidnapped."

"I was told that was White Fang."

"That's what we let people believe," Aldrin admitted. "The White Fang were only too happy to corroborate and claim their share of glory. The truth, however, is far worse. Young Ambrose was taken by an organisation that sought to explore the Schnee Semblance. You know of it, of course."

"Winter has good control over it."

"We were able to track down and deal with those responsible, but Ambrose perished in the rescue attempt." Sol shook his head. "A stain on my record, and on Atlas – Schnee relations. I ordered the bombing of said facility myself, to eradicate all evidence."

Ironwood frowned. "And then you buried it."

"What choice did I have, James?" Aldrin sighed and spread his arms. "A rogue and criminal sect of scientists from Atlas is still an Atlas problem. So soon after the war, we couldn't afford to have Atlas painted as the kind of people who would experiment on children. It wasn't solely my decision, either. The Military Council considered the case closed, and any further damage to Atlas' reputation… undesirable. In the end, politics won out. As it often does."

Despicable, though given the facility was closed down, Ironwood supposed it made no difference to the SDC or Ambrose Schnee. That was the problem running a military. It only took one bad egg to sour the image of the whole army. A single soldier gone off the rails or a pilot caught flying while drunk.

It all reflected on the greater whole, as would news of these human testing facilities if they got out.

"Is that why you're here, Aldrin?" Ironwood asked, voice a faint growl. "To tell me to bury this? Forget it ever happened?"

"Would I do that, James? For one, I don't think you would listen." The former General pushed himself up, leaning a hand down on the table until he could get his cane under him. "I'm not here to preach. Merely, I came to fill you in and provide a little insight. One thing I shall say, however, is to not get too caught up in this. We have the Vytal Festival taking place in Vale in a few short months and you shall be needed there."

Ozpin. The attack on Amber. The Maidens and Salem. The timing couldn't have been worse, and Amity would need to be readied for Vale. Readied and then protected. It hardly helped that military hardware had been stolen en route from a facility in Mistral to Atlas. Reports were sketchy on whether it was the White Fang or some other group.

Aldrin picked his moments well; Ironwood would give him that. With so much on his plate, there was never a better time to suggest he sweep something under the rug. It would be easy, too. The White Fang had done their work for them and any attempt to portray this atrocity as of Atlas' doing could be handwaved away as more lies and slander by a terrorist group.

"Investigate this if you wish, James. The Council will approve it and I won't stop you. Simply, don't allow it to distract you from other important matters. Justice is important. Our Kingdom relies on it. But if we spend all our time chasing justice for past wrongs, we'll not see the threats on the horizon."

"Atlas is bigger than one tortured girl?"

"As much as I hate myself for saying it, yes." Aldrin closed his eyes. "Yes, it is."

Ironwood frowned. "You won't intervene if I wish to investigate, though?"

"Not at all. So long as it doesn't impede on your other duties." Making his way to the door, the retired General turned and saluted. "Good luck, James. For Atlas."

He saluted back without standing. "For Atlas."

In the silence of his office, Ironwood raised his drink once more and paused when he found it empty. Mulling the still half-empty bottle in the cabinet, he looked down once more on the printed documents which did little to hint at the horrors at least two people had been through. His shredder, the bin beneath it and the rest of the bottle, would provide a simple and efficient way to be rid of the problem. There was more than enough other work to focus on.

Ironwood stared at the pages. The clock on his desk ticked ominously.

/-/

Winter looked up as Ironwood pushed into the room, taking a position beside her and slamming the papers down on the desk. The computer she was working on rattled slightly, due in no small part to his cybernetic arm. "What have you been able to find?" he demanded.

"At least two hundred soldiers not registered properly." At the General's growl, she added, "Many of those I've been able to trace back to administrative errors. They, their commanding officers or someone on a base they're stationed at have been able to confirm their location and attendance to an acceptable degree. Human error, sir."

"Is that it, or is that just what we're supposed to think?"

"Sir?"

"If you wanted to hide a small number of people off the records, you wouldn't do it by having them be the only ones missing. You'd hide them among others." He tapped the screen. "List down the names of every administrative agent who failed to enter them. See if any correlate a few too many times. Even if it doesn't lead anywhere, that person needs a stern talking to for letting these pass by."

"Sir." Winter nodded and made a note to do so. "There is something else."

"Oh?"

"I ran some searches for the name included in the test logs. Or rather, I had Clover run it hoping his Semblance would help out."

"Clever. And…?"

"Lavender Arc isn't a rare name but through luck, and solely through that, he was able to find a news article that may fit the bill." Winter accessed her mail and clicked the link, moving her chair over so Ironwood could pull one across and sit beside her.

"What am I looking at, Specialist?"

Winter knew he meant he would read the article later but wanted a summary for now. Understanding his little mannerisms was part of her job. "A family visit to Atlas ending in disaster by a Grimm attack. Entire family killed, or so the news reports." Winter highlighted a section that listed the names. "The Arc family, sir, including one Lavender Arc."

"Killed on Atlas soil?"

"Yes, sir. They're from Vale." He hissed and she understood why. If this was bad as they thought, it had international incident written all over it. Sadly, it was looking like just that. "There's more. Clover dug deeper and managed to access some records from Vale. All legal," she assured. "Part of our intelligence-sharing agreements."

"Hmm. Go on."

"Two months prior to this journey, the son of the family – one Jaune Arc – registered an unlocking of a Semblance in Vale. It was tested, signed off and documented by none other than Headmaster Ozpin of Beacon himself."

"Ozpin…"

"Nothing seems to have been unusual there, sir. There's a note from the headmaster confirming the Semblance and detailing that it has unique potential. There's also mention of having offered a scholarship for his future years in Beacon, should he have wished to attend."

That appeared to calm General Ironwood some, it being a suggestion, if not proof, that while Headmaster Ozpin had shown interest in the boy, he'd already made his move. That all but absolved him of any later guilt. "And then what, they come to Atlas and are attacked by Grimm. Except they're not. They're kidnapped and taken away by our own scientists."

"That is Clover's leading hypothesis, sir."

"What is his Semblance? Show me."

Winter clicked through some documents to reach it. Given the nature of Semblances to be of use both for good or evil, it was imperative such information be shared from Kingdom to Kingdom. That was not only in the event one such person went rogue, but also so that if an emergency happened and there was a convenient Semblance that could assist, the Kingdom would know of it. Beyond that, it also helped in identifying criminal action or even corroborating testimonies.

As such, Atlas and Vale shared all registered Semblance databanks. They could not be accessed by just anyone, but nor were they hidden behind ten layers of protections. If you had the prerequisite rank, you could look at the database. It was most commonly accessed by law enforcement, hospitals and, as one might expect, Atlas Academy.

When the log file for Jaune Arc came up, Winter heard Ironwood hiss. There, on the top left of the document, read a single line of text.

`File accessed 3,525 times`

"It's him," Ironwood said. "It has to be. No reason for anyone from Atlas to be looking so closely at a child otherwise. Damn it. This is bad."

"It gets worse, sir."

Winter leaned aside to let General Ironwood read the entry. Having already read it herself, she was prepared for the sudden spout of swearing from her superior. Even for the crack of the desk as Ironwood's hand closed reflexively, his cybernetics tearing through metal and wood with ease.

"This…" Ironwood struggled to find the words, much like Winter had. "Good lord, I can see why they wanted it. I can't believe I'm saying it, but the potential for this to be a weapon is unprecedented."

"My thoughts exactly. It's almost useless as a huntsman, especially around other huntsmen…"

"But as a soldier or a Specialist, it would be invaluable. Some of these entries might well be people hoping to recruit him based on this, but there are too many for just that. I've no idea what research they're doing, but since it involved a sibling, they might be trying to see if the Semblance is hereditary like your own."

Winter nodded. The thought had crossed her mind as well. Weiss displayed it, but her control was still too low to utilise it properly. It was a matter of some frustration for their father, though she'd been quick to point out that control or not, the fact Weiss had it should be enough to prove the Schnee Semblance's continuation.

"He has seven sisters," Ironwood read. "Seven possible carriers. Wait. This mentions a survivor. Saphron Cotta-Arc. Not present at the ill-fated family holiday cut short by Grimm." He snorted at the last, clearly not believing a word of it. "Based in Argus. Winter. I want a team out there immediately. Send the Ace-Ops. Secure and protect. With extreme prejudice if needs be. Should they fail to find her at her registered address, I want to be notified immediately. I'll comb all of Atlas if I have to."

"I'll see it done," Winter said, standing. "And you, sir?"

"I shall be meeting with Sergeant Harrison," he said, tapping the screen again. The article referenced the investigation as being run by said main, the case closed once evidence was processed. "There's no guarantee the man is complicit – our kidnappers could easily have feigned a Grimm attack to cover their tracks – but the investigation will begin there."

"We are doing this, then?" she asked. "With the Vytal Festival so close?"

"We are, Specialist." Ironwood scowled at the bright monitor. "I won't allow this to stand on my watch."

"And of Jaune Arc himself? If he lives, he's been taken by the White Fang. Given the actions taken against him by Atlas, I can't imagine he'll have our best interests at heart. He may well be turned against us."

Ironwood hesitated to answer. "That is a bridge we shall cross if it comes to it."

/-/

The White Fang camp was both less and more homely than Jaune expected it to be. It was hidden away in the middle of dangerous territory and the numerous mounted machine guns and sentries proved it. The guards eyed him dangerously, their masks looking like snarling Grimm. Adam was quick to explain who they were and that they were allies, stressing the word and telling them to pass the news on.

Once they were away from the docking area and the guards, the camp became much livelier – surprisingly so. Despite being terrorists, the camp wasn't just home to fearsome faunus ready to risk their lives, but also children and families. Elderly and young. They chatted and congregated around large fires where people cooked warm food that reached his nostrils and had him salivating.

"Blake," Adam said. "Fetch them some food. I doubt they've eaten well. Can you have someone prepare a tent for them as well?"

"Sure." The girl turned to him. "Are you okay sharing a tent?"

Lavender was clinging to him still, half asleep but obviously content so long as he was there. "I think we'd prefer it that way," he said. "I don't want to leave her right now."

Blake nodded and walked away. Adam stepped into the space she'd occupied to draw his attention. "It'll take a day at least for people to understand why you're here," he said. "I'll have the news passed on and they'll accept you soon enough. For at least a day or two, though, I'd rather you didn't wander the camp alone. I'll have guards stationed at your tent."

"We made a deal," Jaune said. "I won't run."

"It's not you I'm worried about. We have a lot of twitchy and mistreated faunus here."

"Oh." He was a human. It wasn't hard to figure out what that meant. "Will it be a problem?"

"Not once they see you're on our side. Give it time. In the meantime…" Adam produced a mask and held it out. The message was clear and Jaune took it with one hand, holding it to his face. There was a small clip on the side that fit over his ears, while the bridge of the mask lay over his nose. The eyeholes were surprisingly wide, giving him a better range of vision than he'd expected.

He cracked a smile. "How do I look?"

"The part," Adam said. "It'll do for now. Not every faunus trait is obvious, so people won't question. You can rely on myself or Blake if you need to. Blake is better at this kind of thing," he admitted grudgingly. "I'm trying…"

"Because I'm useful?"

Adam shrugged, but made no effort to hide it. "Yes."

"That's fine." It was mutual use if anything. Adam wanted his Semblance and he wanted Adam's help finding his sisters. If they were both honest about it, he didn't see the problem. "I should warn you that I don't have any proper training, though. Dad started to once I unlocked my Semblance but that's two, maybe three, months tops."

"I wouldn't send you in without drills anyway. Not when lives depend on it. Your role won't be frontline at any rate. Support and precision attacks using your Semblance." Seeing Lavender shift, he said, "Let's discuss it another time. I have a bigger question for now. How do you intend to look after all your sisters assuming you find them? I don't mind you bringing them here," Adam gestured around him, "But it's not exactly the best place to raise a family."

"I see plenty of families here…"

"Desperation. Having nowhere else to go. You don't want this if you can help it."

He didn't. Jaune bit his lip, indecision and fear writhing in his stomach. He hadn't thought of this. Not once. He'd been so focused on getting Lavender out and then finding them, but he hadn't given any thought to what would happen after. I can't send them home or they'll be kidnapped again. And what even is home? Dad is dead and they have mom.

"I may have an idea," Adam suggested. "If you want to hear it…"

"Y-Yes?" Jaune hated how desperate he sounded.

"It's not safe here but we may be able to send them to Menagerie. That can be permanent or temporary depending on what you ultimately decide, but Blake's parents could look after them. They're not insignificant figures there."

"Menagerie is the island, right?"

"Yes. It's where faunus were to be sent before the war. After, it's where many disillusioned with humanity and its prejudice chose to exile themselves. It's been all but abandoned by the four Kingdoms, making it untouched by Atlas. The population is predominantly faunus, but there's no law against human citizens."

"Would it be safe?"

"If Atlas came for them, no. But then, I'm not sure where would be safe at that point. It would be safer than here, though. That's the best I can offer." Adam nodded to him. "Of course, if you have a better idea then by all means. I'm only offering a suggestion."

"What suggestion?" Blake asked, returning. Adam filled her in quickly. "Menagerie would be as good a place as any," she said. "It would be safer than staying here at any rate. I've found you both a tent. Ilia is finding some food for you." The feline faunus smiled softly. "She's about the most human friendly faunus you'll find here so long as you're good to her."

"We'll talk more tomorrow." Adam stepped away. "Rest well."

"You too?" Jaune said, watching him go.

Blake shook her head and coughed, drawing his eyes and smiling awkwardly. "Sorry about him. Adam's a good guy, but he's not very good at talking to people. Would you like me to show you to your tent?"

"Please. Blake, isn't it?"

"Yes. Blake Belladonna. Nice to meet you." She hadn't put her mask on since first taking it off in the test chamber, but now away from the stench of death and all the adrenaline, he took the time to look at her properly. Apart from being around his age and quite beautiful, she looked tired. Tired and worn.

Lavender was so out of it that he swept her up into his arms, his own legs aching as he followed Blake through the camp. People looked their way but seeing him in a mask and not being able to see Lavender's face, they simply nodded or turned away, back to their own business. A few children ran by laughing, chasing one another with one holding a Beowolf teddy over his head and growling.

"This more like a community than a camp."

"That's what the White Fang is," Blake explained. "We didn't just come to Atlas to rescue you. We struck a Schnee mining camp first. These are the people who wanted to come with us. We'll be transporting them to the coast where they'll take a ship to Menagerie to start new lives there."

"Is that how long I have to decide for Lavender?"

"You can take all the time you want, but the sooner the better. Here." Blake swept open the flap to a tent and let him inside. The interior was bare. Nothing more than two sleeping bags and a wooden crate. There were two steaming plates at it with meat and vegetables coated in gravy. Jaune's stomach grumbled at the sight alone. "Looks like Ilia came through. It's not much but we're pushed for resources with all these rescued faunus here."

"It's more than I ever expected. Thank you."

As hungry as she probably was, Lavender was already falling asleep. He knelt and reached for a bag, thanking Blake quietly when she took the lead and drew it open, helping to put his sister to bed into it and then zipping up the sides. The grassy floor was soft but she found some pillows to push under her head.

It really was more than Jaune expected. After living in a testing facility spending every day wishing to see the sunlight, this was the height of luxury. He wiped away a tear, hoping she didn't see it. His own legs gave way soon after and he sat cross-legged before the box, digging into the food with Blake watching. It was wonderful. Warm, rich and meaty, nothing like the paste he was fed – or forced to eat – by the scientists.

"Things will get better when we shift the civilians away." Blake took the spot opposite but didn't touch the food. "At least, our conditions will. I can't say better when we'll go back to fighting." Looking up suddenly, she asked, "Are you really okay with this?"

"With – mph – what?"

"Fighting. Joining us. You'll be expected to fight your fellow humans."

"My fellow humans kidnapped my family and ran tests on us. They tried to kill my sister in front of me."

"I know, but… still… Is this what you want? To fight and kill?"

"I want to find my sisters. If those people have them, then I don't think I have a choice."

"And you're okay with that? Killing them?"

"Yes."

He didn't know. Gods, but it was easy to say yes right now. Easy to kill that man before as well, but he'd been trying to kill Lavender at the time. Now, with the clarity of hindsight, he felt sick and tense, like his body was coiled up and unable to relax. Doing it again was a terrifying prospect, but it was no less horrible than the thought of his mom and sisters locked in cages put through test after test and then disposed of for failing to unlock his Semblance.

"I'm fine with it," he lied. "I'll do whatever I have to."

/-/

General Ironwood stalked down the corridor, his white coat flapping behind him. Soldiers saluted and moved out the way, each sensing his poor mood and making no move to interrupt. He nodded back to each, lips drawn into a thin line. It was too soon to say anything but the little they'd found so far was enough to have him on edge.

There was something dark going on in Atlas. Right under his nose.

Not soon, there won't be. I'll not let this madness stand.

An office appeared ahead. The door was wooden, the plaque on it reading Captain Harrison. A rather sudden promotion to achieve in just four months. Very sudden in peacetime. Scowling, Ironwood rapped his fist on the door and waited.

Seconds ticked by. Footsteps echoed behind as people came and went.

Impatience bubbling, he rapped his fist again on the wood, louder this time. When that yielded no result, he tested the handle. It drew down and the door clicked open. That a Captain might leave their room unlocked and unattended did not cross his mind. Ironwood reached down and pushed his coat aside, drawing his sidearm and pushing into the room.

No attack greeted him. No intruders, ambush or anything of the sort. Only the wooden desk, the man sat behind it, and the remains of his brain matter splattered across the closest wall.

Captain Harrison's empty eyes stared at Ironwood.


It's ya boy, Jimmy!

Only a small section from Jaune here. Got to introduce the two main characters of this story and it's a nice change to write Ironwood. After Forged Destiny, I decided never again to reveal pairings ahead of time for my fanfiction lest I face more rage, so I'm afraid I cannot address those questions in reviews asking if those is going to end up with some steamy Jaune on James action.

You'll just have to read and find out! Lol.


Next Chapter: 17th February

P a treon . com (slash) Coeur