Mother has confirmed heart surgery Monday – except that it's not guaranteed. She had to have an MRI on Friday to make sure no blood clots or blockages as that will make the surgery impossible (very bad) but we won't know either until late Sunday or even possibly on Monday itself when she reaches the hospital.

It's a fair warning now that Monday's chapter may be short and that if for whatever reason you do NOT see any updates after, check my profile. It may be that my mother failed to make it through her operation.

Obviously, hoping very much not for this, but since people always message me to ask why no chapter, why no update, I feel like I have to say this here and now. This weekend's chapters should be only mildly impacted; maybe a little shorter than usual.


Cover Art: Curbizzle

Chapter 17


"We know where they are?"

"Allegedly." General Ironwood said. He addressed them from behind Ozpin's desk, stood while the headmaster sat in his chair. Miss Goodwitch was on the other side and thankfully there was no Winter today. "We've no way to independently confirm the veracity of Xiong's information without risking tipping Salem's forces off. If he's wrong, we'll be embarrassed, but if he's correct then this is an opportunity we cannot let slip away."

"He was good for the Intel on the docks." Jaune pointed out. He was sweaty and sore, his muscles aching, but he forced himself to speak regardless. Forced himself not to sit in the shadows and let better versions of himself do everything. Off to the side, he caught Magnis' pleased nod.

"His information has proven accurate before and criminals tend to be good at finding out where people live. I'll admit I'm still unhappy at the idea of leaving a potential ally or threat remain free in Vale when we know where he is-" There were several mouths open and arguments ready, but the general pushed on bullishly. "But Ozpin has already convinced me on that front. I won't ask you to bring Xiong in."

It was another reminder that there was more going on out of their sight than within, despite that Jinn or the Gods had chosen them as the anchors and him as the one to be used, Ozpin and Ironwood were running the show. They may have brought Nicholas in as an affiliated huntsman, but the fact he wasn't here for the briefing didn't fill Jaune with confidence. He wasn't the only one missing.

"Where is Warchief?"

"He will be conducting Atlas forces on the attack against Salem's iterations."

"Atlas' forces?" Yang asked. "Wait, are we not going in?"

"You will not be. That is correct."

"What? Why-?"

"You can't keep us out!"

"What's the point of-"

"Students." Ozpin clapped his hand on the desk for quiet. "Please wait for General Ironwood to explain his reasoning before complaining about it. The decision was not made lightly."

Ironwood waited for quiet. "Thank you. We have a rare opportunity to strike at our foe without them being able to strike back at us, and we don't want to miss out on that. However, the last time this happened a third party intervened and killed Leviathan." Jaune heard Yang's teeth grinding together. "Given that Team JNPR's new dorm was infiltrated and ransacked while you were busy recruiting Magnis, we know that you are all being targeted. There is a good chance the third party will attempt to take advantage of a fight between you and Salem once more."

"Won't they do that here anyway?" Weiss asked.

"They may, but their targets have so far only been other iterations. There's no benefit to them attacking my soldiers. In fact…" He leaned forward and placed his hands on the table. "There is a good chance that, bereft of targets on our side, they may work to kill someone on Salem's side. That is a third party intervention we're happy to allow."

Take away targets and the sniper would have to take what shots he could. If it wasn't them, it might as well by Ashari, Grimm or Null. Jaune couldn't fault it, and more than that he preferred his teammates not being thrown into the meatgrinder. He wasn't the only one.

"So, you want us to sit back and let you lot handle this?" Fate leaned back, hooked his hands behind his head and kicked his feet up onto Ozpin's desk. "I dig this plan."

"Feet. Off." Miss Goodwitch said. When he didn't comply, she smacked her clipboard into his shoes and knocked them off herself. "And General Ironwood did not say you would be doing nothing. Don't think you can slack off."

"What will we be doing?" Pyrrha asked politely.

"I'm glad you asked."

/-/

"We found signs of Hunter but couldn't make contact with him." Emerald kept her head low, face down. She knelt on the carpet of the living room, down on one knee. "I'm sorry, ma'am."

"Hmmm. I suppose confirmation of his survival is better than nothing." The way Cinder said it made Emerald flinch. She wanted to be many things to the woman – merely better than nothing was not one of them.

"I-I'm sorry. I can try again tonight-"

"If you failed once you will fail again. It seems our friend does not want to be found."

"So much for Headmaster's plan." Null said scathingly.

"It was a suggestion on his part more than a plan and he did say it was a long shot. We can't well fault him for this failure." That she came to the defence of another champion, a threat, and not someone who had served her devotedly for so long brought an ugly feeling inside Emerald. She bit her lip, frustration roiling under the surface.

"You can't fault Emerald either." Ashari spoke – echoing Emerald's thoughts but also sending her into a panic. "You asked her to find a single man in the Emerald Forest; a man we know wants to stay hidden and who knows how to do so. You set her up to fail."

That idiot. No, no, no.

"On the contrary, dear Ashari, I sent Emerald because I had the utmost faith in her ability." Emerald's heart soared. Her mouth felt dry. "Faith that was unfortunately not rewarded."

The dream came crashing down. "I apologise!" Emerald said loudly, hoping to prevent Ashari saying anything else and making things worse. "It won't happen again, Cinder, I promise. I'll do better."

Warm fingers touched the underside of her chin and brought her head upwards. Cinder was beautiful, smiling alluringly, her smooth legs crossed, and her perfect, almond-shaped face framed by her dark, silk hair. It wasn't just her beauty that captivated Emerald. It was her confidence, her power, the surety that those fingers would as easily bring searing pain as pleasure.

"I know you will, Emerald." Cinder's lips formed words as soft as honey. "Unlike Ashari, I truly believe you will redeem yourself." A thumb slid over to rest on Emerald's lower lip, pushed inward and pressed her lip against her teeth. Emerald's heart raced. "And you will receive your opportunity soon. For now, wait."

"Thank you…" she whispered against Cinder's thumb. She thought briefly of kissing it but was afraid that might be a step too far. "I… Thank you. I'll not let you down. I promise."

"Good girl. Now, take a seat." Cinder gestured to a cough away from her own, giving Emerald no chance to sit by her. There was a space beside Ashari, but she pointedly chose to sit with Mercury. He elbowed her in the ribs mockingly. Bastard. "It seems that Hunter won't be joining us." Cinder said. "That's a shame, but if he is coward enough to hide away then he'd have been of no value anyway."

"There's enough of us anyway." Null said.

"We're outgunned by Ozpin." Grimm pointed out. "Mostly because of Knight. I doubt Ashari can deal with him again so easily and we know for a fact you can't."

"I don't have to. Kill Rose and he disappears."

Emerald noticed Ashari's eyes harden as Null said that. She desperately shook her head, trying to tell him not to do anything stupid. If he did, she'd fight to stop him. Maybe that would prove her devotion. He said she wouldn't ever give me another chance, but she did. That proves he's wrong. Cinder is fair. She wouldn't throw me away for nothing.

"Our quantity is also quality." Cinder said. "With Null's unique talents, your Grimm and Headmaster's intelligence I'm sure we will be able to come up with something. He is but one man, no matter how strong. What's more, each of our anchors is far more experienced than theirs. As Null says, there is more than one way to defeat them." Her scroll began to buzz. "Speaking of," she flipped it open. "Headmaster. Such a pleasure to have you- what? Now?" Cinder shot to her feet, her red dress flapping. "You're certain!?"

Emerald sat up, Mercury doing the same beside her. Cinder's tone left no illusions as to whether this was good or bad news. Ashari frowned, stood and approached the nearest window, drew the curtains back and looked out.

"-how!?" Cinder shouted. "We were – yes. Yes, of course. Thank you for the warning." She slammed her thumb on the button to end the call and shouted, "It's time for us to leave. We've been-"

Ashari threw himself away from the window. "INCOMING!"

/-/

Warchief watched the windows explode outward with fire and gas and wondered not for the first time what the hell he was doing. Atlas soldiers continued to use grenade launchers to fire through the windows, following his orders to the letter. The orders of an idiot who didn't know a damn thing.

This is your fault, Ren. Yours, Russel and Cardin's.

From his position in the back of a lorry, he had access to numerous computers and screens in what was Atlas' version of a mobile command hub. Basically, a lorry with the back hollowed out for machinery and a few aerials on top. It would have only been more ironic if the outside was disguised as an ice-cream truck. Soldiers guarded the outside, ready to kill anyone who came near him like he was something worth protecting.

General Ironwood and Winter hadn't believed him when he said his history was luck. It was getting to the point where he was beginning to wonder if he actually had some memetic Semblance that forced others to perceive him as more than he was.

"Sir, we've filled the apartment with grenades. Orders?"

"Keep firing." Warchief ordered. He didn't know a damn thing about how to organise a breach and clear, especially against trained and dangerous huntsmen, and so the safest thing – for the men under his command and anyone else – was toa void it entirely. "Don't stop even if the building collapses. I want the fire to be on fire. I want the smoke to choke out the smoke."

"Y-Yes sir."

The worst part was that they'd probably look at this and say he was good at his job or ruthless or any one of a bunch of other things that'd somehow look good, as opposed to having no other plan than "keep hitting it and hope it dies". The building trembled on the screen as yet more grenades arched through the windows. Some hit the walls on either side, but most went through. These were some of Atlas' finest. Black smoke was belching out every window and the whole apartment was definitely on fire.

"It's not going to be this easy, is it…?"

Fate was a bitch – and not even just that asshole variant sleeping around back at Beacon. The roof of the building exploded upward as huge, black-feathered wings beat at the sky. It was like the building was an egg cracking open and giving birth, except that the Nevermore was fully grown. Grown to the point of an alpha, of something that had lived for decades or more.

"Sir! There's a Grimm!"

"I see it. So do you. Shoot it. Bring it down." Tracer fire raced upward and tore into its thick breast. From his angle he couldn't see above it, but he imagined they would be on its back and making their escape. "Target its wings. Stop it flying away."

The subtle shift of fire saw holes appearing in its wings, sunlight shining through as it screeched angrily. Detail was difficult to make out on the screen, but it was easy to tell those holes were closing because they grew opaque. The thing was healing. Or maybe it was being rebuilt. Slowly, though. He could see that, and he was sure everyone else could as well.

"Get the heavy weapons targeting that thing," he ordered into the microphone. "It can't take off if we keep it wounded."

They didn't have any missiles or artillery in a city thankfully. The battleships wouldn't open fire either. What they did have, however, was several vehicle-mounted gatling cannons that opened up, raking the monster with dust-infused rounds that detonated on impact, bursting in fire across the Nevermore and tearing great chunks out of its body.

We're doing it. Warchief thought. I'm doing it.

Not that telling people to shoot the Grimm was a miracle job or anything, but it was working. And if they could keep this up then they might yet be able to make something out of this. Maybe even win. What would he wish for if he did? Did he have anything to wish for? Maybe that Russel would stop trying to deify him. Nah, that didn't feel worth it. World peace? An end to hunger? Removing the Grimm from Remnant? He didn't really need anything himself.

There was something to be said about counting your chickens too early. Something leapt off the Nevermore and came crashing down to the street below, cracking concrete and sending men scattering. Warchief swore and signalled the camera to zoom in, catching in a moment of clarity as the smoke cleared the pasty-white face that matched his own, stretched wide with red veins and bony plates and set with ruby-red eyes.

Grimm.

The soldiers reacted to the new threat without orders, those closest backing away as others burst out small arms fire that bounced futilely off his aura. Grimm began to jog, soon breaking into a run, elbowing aside servicemen and sprinting straight at the vehicle keeping the Nevermore pinned.

He bunched his legs and vaulted up, landed on its sloped armour and stuck both hands out toward the roaring weapon mounted on the top. Thick, black tendrils burst from his back and speared out, into the weapon, beneath it, wrapped around it. He made a motion as if pulling back with his arms and the tentacles pulled taut. They dragged and pulled until bolts popped and metal twisted, until the weapon span to a dull stop and sparks flew. The vehicle's hatch opened, and two soldiers scurried out seconds before the weapon was ripped from the vehicle entirely. Grimm held it aloft in the air, sparks flying from severed wiring and dust pouring out of the weapon as he roared in anger.

"Holy shit…" Warchief whispered. The soldiers hadn't stopped shooting and it was having next to no effect. When Grimm threw the destroyed weapon with his tentacles, it flew hard enough to strike a second vehicle in the side and flip it over, silencing its weapon as it smashed into the concrete road. "Send the huntsmen in!" Warchief yelled. "All soldiers keep focus on the Nevermore; let the huntsmen handle Grimm!"

Not RWBY and JNPR. These were proper huntsmen, legitimate huntsmen. Six in total, they raced forward and spread out to surround Grimm, four women and two men, all experienced adults handpicked by Ozpin and Ironwood. No Qrow, sadly. Apparently, he was on distant recon, asked by Ozpin to inspect the Branwen tribe and far reaches of Remnant for anyone who might have become an anchor. Anyone they could approach early, anyone that an alternate world version of Jaune Arc might have somehow met, befriended or formed ties to, and who might have summoned one here.

Apparently, Qrow could turn into a bird.

The more you knew. It was strange being so trusted by General Ironwood that you were fed sensitive information. It probably helped that, being not of this world, he couldn't stick around after this war to spread it. He'd vanish back to his own world. A world that made a lot more sense than this even if Russel was currently trying to form a religion around him.

Let's see how he does against a full team of huntsmen…

/-/

It felt good to be fighting normal people for a change. Jaune thought that probably said all kinds of bad things about him as a person, but between Magnis the last time and Ashari before, the White Fang they'd intercepted on the outskirts of Vale were downright basic.

Not a bad thing, everything considered.

Jaune parried the swing of an axe and followed through as Pyrrha had taught him, taking far too much delight in knocking the faunus to the ground. They weren't trained, but then he was barely trained either, so the win felt earned either way. When he caught another about to shoot Pyrrha, he placed himself in the way and tanked the shots on his shield. A few slipped by onto his aura, but it did the job.

Pyrrha transformed her sword into its rifle form, took aim and shot, striking the gun out the faunus' hand and giving time for Nora to slam her hammer into his stomach and send him flying back into a stolen Bullhead. Pyrrha flashed him a tight smile of thanks. It felt good to be useful.

Not quite as useful as Magnis or Knight. Knight wrenched an entire side off a Bullhead he had literally grabbed as it tried to take off with his bare hands and slammed back onto the ground. White Fang members crawled dazedly out, surrendering on the spot. Magnis, meanwhile, had pushed ahead into the building, and the sound of gunfire showed he was having a whale of a time.

I may not be as good as them but I'm doing something, he thought. I'm proving my use.

"We need to get in and find the leader!" Blake was arguing with Yang and Ruby, pointing heatedly at the building Ironwood's scouts had allegedly located the White Fang using. No one was quite sure what it was for yet but given Fate's information that they usually worked with Cinder, Ozpin didn't want to leave it to chance. "Magnis has already gone ahead – I don't care what the plan was, we can't let them escape!"

Someone was passionate. He knew about Blake's past with the White Fang – much of it from Ruby complaining heatedly to him about how she wouldn't chill out or was risking her life. He got a lot of second-hand info from Ruby's little ranting sessions. Leader-to-leader bonding sessions, they called it. A chance for the two of them to vent away from their teams and share the misery of leadership. He'd thought from their last one that Blake was mostly done with the White Fang but finding out they were involved with Cinder had been the last straw.

"Magnis will be fine." Weiss said. "Probably. He's stronger than us – and we need to secure the area and prevent anyone escaping."

"What if there's another iteration in there? A White Fang Jaune capable of holding him off?"

"We have no information to suggest that." Ruby pointed out.

"It could be true!"

It wasn't everyday Blake looked so emotional about things, and as he watched her gesticulate wildly with her hands, he couldn't help but think that there was a lot more to her than he'd originally thought. She always looked so calm and collected usually, like she was too haughty to give you the time of day. Turned out she was a lot more passionate than he'd given her credit for.

Aaand she's caught me staring, he thought, turning away as Blake paused in her rage to shoot him the evillest death stare he'd ever seen. Jaune swallowed and faced Pyrrha.

"W-What do you think, Pyrrha?"

"I think the White Fang would be insane to work with Salem if the reward for her winning this war is to wipe out all life, but then maybe they think they can backstab her and claim the win themselves."

"Would that work? Jinn made it sound like it was either Ozpin wins or Salem. No one else."

"Who can say? They might be able to make themselves the last standers and then use that as blackmail to force Ozpin into compliance."

"Sort of a do as we say or we let the world end?"

Pyrrha shrugged. "Maybe."

That sounded ridiculous to him, but then so did becoming armed terrorists and joining an evil woman to attack a school of huntsmen, so the bar wasn't exactly sky-high. Neither was Blake's patience, apparently, as he heard Yang shout out angrily. Blake had broken ranks and charged into the building.

"Oh, you dumb piece of shit!" Yang shouted and chased after her with a "You two stay there!" to her teammates.

"That's not-" Ruby groaned as both vanished inside, "-the plan…"

There was no telling how many White Fang members were still inside the building, but they were definitely still active. Magnis was fighting them. Jaune groaned and looked to Ruby, who was looking back at him helplessly. They couldn't send Knight in because he was needed to intimidate the forty or so captured White Fang members into compliance.

"We can go in after them," he said. Pyrrha, Ren and Nora looked to him for a second but didn't argue, and his confidence grew. "Ruby!" he shouted. "Stay out here with Weiss and Knight. You can have Fate as well. We'll go after Yang and Blake to make sure they're okay."

Ruby looked relieved. "Okay – thank you!"

For once, Fate didn't bother to counter or insult him, probably because he'd been given the chance to laze outside and smoke. With a quick look to his team, he ran ahead, the three falling in behind as they entered the dark, mostly ruined and abandoned building that was being used as a temporary base for the White Fang. More a stopping and smuggling point as far as they could tell, to let them smuggle dust and weapons under the city's walls. Ironwood would need to be told about the tunnels once this was over, and they'd probably seal them up in case of Grimm.

I wonder if there really is a White Fang me, he thought, scanning the rubble-strewn corridor before hearing sounds upstairs and moving for the dilapidated staircase. He and Pyrrha took point, shields raised, even if the sounds of combat above pretty much guaranteed there wasn't an ambush waiting.

Pretty much wasn't guarantee enough where their lives were concerned.

/-/

Jaune Xiong Arc laid his knife and fork down on the plate with a light clink, dabbed faintly at his mouth with a white napkin and set it down. As classical, orchestral music played lightly from the restaurant's speakers, he reached out for his glass of amaretto and took a long sip, downing the rest of the glass.

"Finished, boss?" the man behind and on his right asked.

Xiong stood and let one of his bodyguards draw his chair back. The other approached holding open a long coat which he stepped into one arm first and then the other. The man set it around his shoulders and waited patiently for Xiong to button it shut, then held out the scarf which Xiong threw around and over his coat.

Classical music still playing, he strolled toward the restaurant door, catching the eye of the young waiter dressed in a crisp black waistcoat and suit combo. The boy was clutching his reservation board tightly, holding it up against his chest and staring at Xiong with wide, frightened eyes. They widened further when Xiong reached into his inner coat pocket, and then clenched shut. The boy felt something being pushed into his chest and cracked one eye open.

"A tip for your good service." Xiong smiled, pressing the wad of lien into the boy's chest until he anxiously took it. "And an apology for the mess we left behind. Do convey it to the owner."

The boy looked over Xiong's shoulder, to the nine dead bodies strewn across the round table. Three in their seats, leaning back with mouths open and bullet holes in their heads, six others, dressed in long black coats, dead on the floor. Bodyguards. They had handguns beside them from where they had been just a fraction too slow to draw.

"I-I won't tell anyone…" the boy said brokenly.

Jaune Xiong smiled. "There's a good man."

He patted the boy's arm and walked by. His bodyguards flanked him, brushing past the terrified waiter as they walked out into the cool, crisp air. Not peaceful, sadly. There was a din in the distance, heavy weapons fire, explosions and thick black smoke rising up above the buildings.

"It seems they took the bait. Predictable. Then again, heroes need to be predictable, don't they? If you can't trust them to fight the bad guys then they're not heroes at all. All that attention focused over there. It's enough to let a man get away with murder."

"The plan goes ahead then, boss?"

"Indeed it does, Tony. Call the twins and tell them we're pushing ahead. They're free to begin their attack on the Summit. The heads of the big three are dead, and by tomorrow morning the city's gangs, families and syndicates will all firmly be under our control."

"And then?"

"And then we do what we must." Xiong said. "As we must. It really is regrettable, but I've learned first hand that nothing gets done if someone isn't ready to dirty their hands."

He sighed and turned away from the noise, stooping down into the open door of the unmarked black limo that had been awaiting him. This war, this free-for-all certainly was a chaotic thing. That just wouldn't do. Chaos was bad for business, and the Xiong Clan, and all of Vale, ill needed it. Xiong leaned back and closed his eyes as the car began to pull away.

If needs be, he would bring order to this fractured city himself.


Headmaster and Xiong represent the smallest group, but perhaps also the group most prepared to do work behind the scenes. Meanwhile, we get closer to White Fang Jaune – or Rabbit Jaune. He won't be called that obviously, but he'll finally get a chance to come out his cage.


Next Chapter: 19th March

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