Volume III: Episode 9: Esprit de Corps, Part IV
Outwardly, General James Ironwood remained stoic as he marched to the air pads. Internally, however, he was on pins and needles. After all, two of his people had been kidnapped, were being kept in a fortified location, and the resources he had on hand were... scarce, to put it mildly.
There was some small part of him that pointed out that Thundercracker wasn't one of his, but rather an enemy agent. He ignored that, though. The Decepticons evidently had seen him as dead, expendable, but even if they hadn't, Thundercracker was under his aegis. If he was to die, it would be at Ironwood's hands, not the hands of MECH.
He wouldn't die, though, and neither would Penny. Not today.
The Bullheads were a motley collection that had been pulled together as quickly as any of the Atlesians dared, mostly from the Beacon hangars. They were armed, and they were armored, and that was better than any of them could have hoped when they first started that morning. Inferior though they may be to any Atlesian Skygrasper or Skyray or even the rarely seen and unobtrusive Skybird, these aircraft would still prove valiant steeds for the Academy faculty and support personnel in their mission to save their comrades from certain doom.
"General Ironwood! General Ironwood!" came the familiar voice of Ruby "Snapshot" Rose.
Ironwood turned and saw the bloodcrowned girl bounding over the surface of the airpad to meet him, cape flying up to reveal her weapon strapped to the small of her back.
"General Ironwood," repeated Snapshot as she finally skidded to a halt in front of him, barely seeming winded. "I heard from Glynda what happened to Penny and Thundercracker. I want to help."
"This is an Atlas operation, Snapshot," pointed out General Ironwood.
"In Valish territory," countered Ruby quickly. "You'll need a Valish representative, just like Targeter did for the mission to that bunker. I've fought MECH before, and I know about all of Apricot's secrets. Sir, I can help. This is what I signed up for.."
It was a logical argument, countered only by the fact that she was so young. Still, Farsight hadn't been much older when she had earned the Solitas Cross for her actions on the battlefield. Age was something that sadly meant little when the bullets were flying and even less to the Grimm.
And... it was her choice. Her skills and capability meant she wouldn't be a detriment to the mission, and she had already experienced the trials that came with the job.
Ironwood nodded. "Very well. You're with the rest of Apricot. Go."
With that, she sped past him to take up position in Team ARC's Bullhead. Ironwood was quick behind her. They had wasted too much time, and seconds counted.
The impromptu squadron of Bullheads rose into the air and sped off towards their quarry. As they did, Ironwood's scroll began to vibrate. He ignored it.
He was on a mission, and whatever else was going on could wait.
"So that was you?" asked Optimus in wonder as he sat with Ozpin upon a boulder in the mountain forests around Vale and looked out upon the vast city from under the cover of the trees.
Ozpin's scroll chimed. He ignored it. Whatever it was, it could wait.
"Indeed so," he confirmed instead, not minding at all that he had been up for over twenty-four hours and had spent much of that time talking. "I thought if I rephrased things in just such a way, I could get people to accept that freedom and liberty were better options to the autocracy that humanity had been mired in since it returned to Remnant. Turns out, I was right, and things started to improve. All those centuries of failure, and all I needed to do was appeal to what I thought were their worst natures."
"Things are often counterintuitive like that," observed Optimus in amusement. "I'm impressed, though; you came to that conclusion faster than I did, and with much better results."
"You say that, but I never got to finish my work as the Last King of Vale," lamented Ozpin. "The Council is a house of cards. I died before I could devolve power away from the throne, leaving the Regency Council to appoint its own replacements. If something were to happen to enough of them to reduce it below a quorum in a short enough span of time, there's no legal recourse to replace them without an actual monarch on the throne."
"Perhaps," Optimus allowed, "but fragile as it is, it is still better than what came before, is it not?"
"Yes," Ozpin conceded.
"Then you built them an example, a foundation - unsteady as it is - which can be reinforced and built upon," the Autobot leader comforted him.
"I... suppose you're right," Ozpin relented, then began pacing agitatedly. "It's just... the Council, Parliament, at times, they're just so selfish and short-sighted. They won't even support my proposals to fix these dangerous flaws in the system as it stands."
"With freedom comes the freedom to make mistakes," Optimus reminded him. "You have led your people into taking the first step. It is up to them to finish the journey. If you continue to pull their strings from the shadows, are they really any more free than they were before?"
Ozpin felt something drain from him as his shoulders slumped. "That's... you raise an excellent point, old friend. Perhaps I have spent too long in the shadows."
"Then perhaps it is time you step back into the light."
Ozpin's scroll rang, with a ringtone he unfortunately could not ignore.
"One moment, please," he said, holding up a hand as he pulled out his scroll.
"Of course, old friend," Optimus acquiesced, backing away and transforming to ensure he would not be caught on the scroll's camera, and if he did, it would be as an innocuous truck, albeit in an unusual location.
Ozpin answered the call and was met by an all-too-familiar face.
"First Minister Novo," he greeted. As per tradition, First Minister Novo Aris also held the office of Speaker for Parliament, the only seat on the Regency Council not to be appointed through the sovereign's authority, instead elected by Parliament. Although no law mandated the First Minister and Speaker for Parliament be the same person, tradition often held greater strength than written law. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"'To what-'?" sputtered the First Minister incredulously. "Do you have any idea what I just received, Headmaster? What the entire world apparently just received?"
Ozpin had a sinking feeling that, perhaps, he should have checked that earlier notification after all.
"I'm afraid I'm out of the loop, Madam First Minister," he admitted.
The tiny image of the First Minister gesticulated expansively. "Apparently, there's a powerful interkingdom conspiracy infiltrating up to the highest levels of government."
Ozpin's brow furrowed with concern. He'd heard whispers, of course, rumors mostly, but rumors were often the earliest warning one received when working in the shadows. "What sort of conspiracy?" he asked. "I'll see who I can spare to look into-"
"Yours!" roared Novo, interrupting him. "You and Ironwood and Lionheart and Theodore, running your own little shadow war against..." She paused. "Who are you fighting? Who the hell is backing that terrorist, Cinder Fall?"
Ozpin blinked. That... was unexpected.
He considered how to approach this. Denial? No, crazy theories were cropping all the time. The evidence must have been quite convincing for Novo to be confronting him about it.
"The immortal witch-queen of the Grimm," he answered finally. After all, perhaps Optimus was right. Perhaps it was time to step back into the light. Perhaps it was time to start trusting again.
She gave him a level stare, then shook her head. "Nope. I'm not even gonna dignify that with a response."
"Minister, I can explain," he continued.
"You can?" Novo asked, blinking in surprise. "Well, that's grand, because I want you in the Parliamentary Building first thing tomorrow morning to explain to the House of Commons, the House of Lords, the rest of the Regency Council, and all of Vale why you thought it was a good idea to run a global conspiracy out of your office."
Ozpin closed his eyes to center his thoughts and nodded before opening them again and looking Novo in the eyes. "I can be there within the hour, if you would have me." He lowered his gaze. "Add legitimacy with a swift accounting, no chance for a coverup."
"You're worried about that?" she asked. "How about you go tell your co-conspirator General Ironwood to quit having a pitched battle on top of a crime scene!"
Ozpin blinked at that. "I'm sorry; he's what?!"
"So you don't know everything," she snorted. "That gives me some comfort at least. Ozpin, do you know what platform I was elected on?"
He racked his brain. "If I remember right, you were-"
"Doesn't matter," she interrupted. "Doesn't matter because of everything that's happened in the last month. Do you know what's happened in the last month, Ozpin?"
"Well, it has been rather-"
"Everything!" she cut him off again. "Everything has happened in the last month, and most of it within the last week, and nearly all of it revolving around your school in some way."
"Madam First Minister," he defended, "my faculty and students are doing the best that they can."
"They're doing too much, too fast, and no one can keep up," was her reply. "Oh, and forget about chastising General Ironwood."
Ozpin blinked again. "Why-?"
"Because I just remembered: he's not our problem," she retorted. "He's Atlas's problem and a walking diplomatic incident the Atlesian Council just decided to deal with. That's how fast things are moving, Ozpin! Compared to all that, you are not that important. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a meeting with John about how we're going to react to zombie Colton and how we're going to handle it if he requests back pay for seventy years' pension."
"Good-" - his scroll clicked - "-day…" Ozpin sighed. "When it rains, it pours."
"Sometimes," consoled Optimus, "all we can do is hope to weather the storm."
The Bullhead's whining roar was all that General Ironwood could hear as the VTOL flew along through the sky at extraordinarily low altitudes; everyone else was silent. They were not, thankfully, silent due to fear; if anyone could pull off the sort of maneuvers that they were pulling, it would be Wild Bill, and they knew it. Instead, they were silent in determination, their minds fixed on the rescue of their comrades.
"What's the target area?" asked Snapshot, breaking the silence.
"The energon processing facility where this all began, the one plastered all over that message your teammates sent out," explained Ironwood succinctly as a bump of turbulence rippled through the VTOL's cabin.
Snapshot nodded. "Site Thirteen."
Aska - Shadow; this was a mission, and Ironwood had to be professional - perked up with interest at that. "You know the name of this destination?"
The Valish Huntress paused for a moment, considering her words, and when she answered, her voice was deliberate and slow. "My brother told me about it. Turns out, he was involved in the initial assault that brought that place crashing down."
"Wait a sec, I thought you said you didn't have a brother?" asked Rufus "Mad Dog" Madison, his voice slightly distorted by being filtered through the microphones and speakers of the new variant of his powered armor.
"Only found out about him recently," Snapshot replied, a strange mix of melancholy and joy in her voice.
"You're very lucky then," commented Shadow with a note of amusement in her voice.
"Indeed," agreed Ciel "Farsight" Soleil. "Not only have you found long lost family, but if he was involved in bringing this place down in the first place, then he sounds like a good and righteous man."
"He… I-I mean… Look, it's complicated," stammered Snapshot.
"What isn't these days?" asked Shadow rhetorically.
"Or any day," Mad Dog added.
Ironwood's eyes glanced back into the back where Snake Eyes was standing alongside Airborne. Was any of this having an effect on him? What would finally get him to make peace with Storm Shadow and end this madness?
"Still, whatever moral ambiguity needs to be sorted out, it is still good news, because now it can be sorted out," reasoned Farsight. "Penny will be overjoyed to hear this when we tell her."
Mad Dog's reply was fairly melancholy. "If we can tell-"
"When we tell her," interrupted Ironwood. "When. We are going to rescue Penny, and we are going to bring her home. Never for a moment anticipate failure."
Snapshot nodded. "I won't, sir."
"This is outrageous!" shouted Sylvia predictably. "Ironwood has gone too far this time!"
"Indeed. Between this and the credible accusations of treason, we must assume that he has gone rogue," agreed Camilla, putting on airs for the cameras.
The "this" in question was information leaked just a few minutes ago that showed that Ironwood was part of a vast international conspiracy between all the headmasters of the four academies. Why was this conspiracy in effect? Was this conspiracy actually just a clubhouse? How much power did they actually have? These questions and more were simply not being discussed, and there was no longer any time to ask them. The long built up avalanche had finally started; it was too late for the pebbles to vote.
"Most of the members of this conspiracy are Valish," pointed out Sleet, a story beginning to take shape in his mind. "In fact, his fiancée is Valish and also a fellow member of this conspiracy. No doubt, she seduced him into giving up all sorts of Atlesian military and Huntsman secrets. Atlas has been left weak and vulnerable because he couldn't keep it together."
"Perhaps that's why he had the Furchtlos destroyed," reasoned Sylvia. "To engineer a situation where its destruction would spur Atlas into a frenzy, so we would then attack any enemy of Vale that he could point to and say that they are the real enemy. It is good then that we did not fall for his lies and kept our composure. Now we see who the true enemy is."
"A thorough investigation will no doubt reveal that this 'Cinder Fall' person is one of the agents of this conspiracy, despite her claims to the contrary," agreed Camilla. "Assuming, of course, that she actually exists and is not an elaborate fiction. What real person could have evaded such a thorough search for so long?"
"Someone who was being fed inside information, of course," speculated Sleet.
And with that line, Ironwood's fate was sealed, and they could move on to delivering it.
Sylvia looked around the room with a grave expression. "It's clear now that there is only one course of action we can take, and it's the one we've long put off until now."
"Brace!" shouted Wild Bill as the Bullhead screamed along the ground.
It was practically kissing the dirt, but it was held steady and somehow didn't crash. Ahead of it was a set of doors built into the side of the mountain that had been sucked off their moorings and away from the tunnel they were blocking by twin strikes of gravity implosion missiles. Two more missiles were fired down that newly revealed dark corridor, followed by a third shortly after.
Flying nape of the ground at hundreds of miles an hour, the best pilot in the Atlesian military threaded the needle.
The thing that struck Ironwood about flying through that tunnel was how short it was. He wasn't given any time to contemplate the fact that mere inches separated the VTOL and all those onboard from oblivion, nor was he able to consider the incredible speed that they were going through it at. They were simply on one side of the mountain one moment, and then on the other side the next.
They were in a valley then, and ahead of them were the ruins of Site 13. A few figures could be seen moving around, barely, but there were scant seconds available to look. The timing had to be perfect for what came next.
"Jump!" ordered Airborne.
Ironwood leapt from the Bullhead, and instantly, there was a sudden yanking pain that felt that it would tear apart his body as his parachute rapidly decelerated him from hundreds of miles an hour to a near dead stop in the blink of an eye. Without his aura, he would have been a bloody smear on the ground, but with his aura, he was merely in incredible pain all over his body… even the parts that weren't there anymore. It was a situation that was no doubt being mirrored by all the members of the strike team, but for him, his mind was occupied only with himself.
He hit the ground, and with great speed, detached himself from the parachute harness even as he tucked into a roll. There were five men ahead of him in green and gray clothing, the uniform - such as it was - of MECH. He stopped his roll and drew his two sidearms: semi-automatic revolvers chambered for the .500 Bushwacker Magnum cartridge and loaded with semi-armor-piercing high-explosive rounds.
There was a pair of terrific fireballs and a thunder like the pounding of artillery. Once. Twice. Then the third peal was of a single quality.
The five men were taken off their feet and twisted in mid-air from the force of the impacts and the resulting blasts, spinning around with the visual indications of breaking auras almost lost. Break they did, though, and with their sundering, all manner of bludgeoning injuries were inflicted upon them by their hitting the ground. One was managing to get up though, his strength beaten but still able to fight.
His aura broke in finale a split second before he dropped to the ground from a severed neck.
The general looked up and to the side to see Snapshot on the roof of a building, already focusing in on another target. He wasn't sure how Qrow would take his niece being on the battlefield like this, but Ironwood saw then that she seemed to be born for the fight, and… and he could see why that scared Glynda so, and yet brought her great comfort still.
Ironwood moved to cover, taking shots at any agent of MECH that he could see. The rest of the impromptu fireteam followed after their own fashions, and in those brief seconds, he was able to take stock: no casualties, no visible injuries. It had been a textbook insertion so far.
"Snapshot, where is the most likely spot for the enemy to put their air defense controls?" asked Ironwood quickly, his gaze only briefly looking at the young sniper before shifting to look again for threats.
"It doesn't matter," reported Snapshot stoically, but loudly enough to be heard over the alarms now being raised. "I spotted airships under active camouflage netting. They can just network the base defenses to the airships' own sensor suites and then use them in combination with the weapons on the ships."
"That could work to our benefit," offered Shadow in a voice that was almost quiet. "If I can get to a network access point, then I can bring the whole system crashing down."
That idea brought back a microsecond brief flash of unpleasant memory for Ironwood of the day he had first found his children, and all the unconscionable things done to them in that wretched place. Just as brief, though, was the flash of acceptance. After all, this was the gift of her and her brother, the unique power passed on to them by their birth parents. To deny its use was sacrilege, and to deny to use it in the service of others was the height of blasphemy.
"Snapshot, Shadow, with me. Let's find an access point," ordered Ironwood. "Farsight, Mad Dog, go with Airborne and start hunting for base defenses. Snake-Eyes, do what you do best."
With that, the group split up. Snake Eyes bounded up and out of sight, and those ordered to take out the defenses stepped out of cover with Mad Dog in his Vulture Mk. II powered armor leading the way. Snapshot broke from cover and went back up to the roof of the nearest building with her semblance, Shadow used some ninja tricks of hers to do much the same, and Ironwood followed by recoil-boosting with his sidearms.
They moved across the base with the swiftness of a cast of falcons, moving in on a specific building that Snapshot had evidently remembered as the most likely spot for a network access point. It did not look too different from the other buildings around them, save that it was smaller, and its Cybertronian-sized door had been sliced rather cleanly in two with what looked like a simple plastic tarp set up to protect the innards from the weather. There were surprisingly few guards about the compound, and the upcoming facility was no exception.
Suddenly, they found themselves needing to hit the deck as machine guns formerly concealed opened fire. They dove behind the nearest piece of rubble as the ground churned around them, narrowly avoiding being shot. Above that din of overlapping booms, however, came a whooshing followed by terrific explosions as a multiplicity of missiles from Mad Dog's Vulture Mk. II armor descended upon weapon emplacements in destructive waves.
Ironwood took the lead next, recoil boosting across the distance to the building and through the tarp. He found in there two more MECH agents, which he quickly dispatched with a trio of shots each. Somewhere along the line, he had reloaded, but he could not recall having done so.
Next to him, a large door was open with a single man on a set of scaffolding built about what looked like a titanic computer. He aimed his blocky rifle at Ironwood and opened fire. Several rounds struck home and caused Ironwood's aura to dip before the MECH agent was struck in the back by a shaped charge, flinging him from the scaffold. He screamed as he tumbled through the air to land on the hard floor with a wet crack.
The general looked up and saw his daughter upon the scaffolding's top, looking down at the dead body on the floor. Both Snapshot and he were at her side within a second. She was shook up, trying to hide it, but…
"It's okay; you did what you had to," offered Ironwood firmly.
She was having a hard time processing it, so much so she was having trouble hiding it. "I…"
Snapshot's voice was clipped as she broke into the conversation. "Hey, figure it out later. This is the compound's main security computer."
"I… yes," said Shadow hoarsely with a nod as she turned around towards the computer. "Yes. I can do this."
Ironwood's daughter started to examine the giant computer controls, looking for an access point. She found it and then drew out a simple cable from a concealed location. Shadow then jammed it into the access port she had chosen and seemed to enter a sort of trance.
"What's she doing?" asked Snapshot curiously, her eyes scanning the room and entrance, carbine at the ready.
"Getting us in," answered Ironwood as he himself glanced about the room while trying to keep watch on his little girl.
The lights flickered, the ground shook with the staccato thunder of explosions, and then, very suddenly, the computer turned off. Shadow took the cable out of the access port, and her breath was ragged. Nevertheless, she stood up.
"The automated defenses are down, the network has been crashed, and I know where they are," reported Shadow quickly. "They're being loaded onto separate airships. Neither of them are there yet though, and Bladerider's closer. The rest of the ships have already left or are preparing to leave; they've been evacuating since yesterday."
"We'll regroup with the others and rescue her first then," decided Ironwood. "Let's move!"
Councilor Sylvia sauntered cheerily toward the stairs, nodding to her new chief of security as she passed him holding the door for her. "Zandar."
"Ma'am," he returned the greeting, closing the door behind them.
She continued down the stairs, whistling a familiar tune.
"You know," she said as she reached the bottom of the stairs to the basement where her "guest" awaited her, "I've always admired that little spider."
"The spider that always fails in the end?" sneered her guest from the chair she was bound to.
"Tsk," she tutted, leaning in. "Persistence in the face of adversity. I would expect someone in your position to understand the virtue of that, Councilor Sylvia."
Her platinum blonde hair had grown ratty over the years, her round face marred by cuts and bruises, her body the same as her face, but her voice was still defiant as ever. Her eyes, though… her eyes told a different story. Those shining silver orbs had grown dim, less mirrors and more metal lumps. That dead hope in those dull irises always warmed Sylvia's heart.
"It took some time, but my persistence has finally paid off," she taunted gleefully. "Thanks to the great General Colton so generously coming back from the dead, I've finally been able to remove the greatest obstacle from my path. Your General Ironwood can't stop me now."
Her lips curled into a cruel smile... before she heard something. It started deep and throaty, and it took until the bound Sylvia threw her head back before she realized her captive was... laughing?
"Something amusing?" she sneered.
"Just you," her prisoner answered. "It's been... what? Three? Four years? And what have you got to show for it?"
"My efforts are clearly too subtle for you," she snapped reflexively, defensively. She coughed and straightened her tie. "The Colton Walls will fall, Atlas's military will be purged, and I will stand triumphant."
"I bet that just endears you to the people," the annoyingly revitalized captive fired back.
The unbound woman turned. "Well, that's the thing," she said. "Your approval rating's higher than ever. Apparently, Atlas wants someone who looks like you but acts like me."
That her popularity had less to do with what she'd tried and more to do with the... less than ideal compromises she'd managed to push through was something she didn't feel inclined to tell her prisoner.
She chuckled at her helpless victim. She needed her alive for now, but that didn't mean she couldn't have fun. She savored the feeling of power... before the other Sylvia reared her head back and lunged. She blinked reflexively as a globule of saliva struck her cheek and dripped down onto the lapel of her pantsuit's jacket.
Rage contorted the free Sylvia's face for a moment, and she backhanded the prisoner. Fuming, she straightened up, whipping a handkerchief out from a pocket to dab herself clean.
"You really should be more careful with this new jacket," she said, trying to salvage some dignity out of it. "You paid quite a bit for it, after all."
The free woman finished cleaning herself, and her face grew a sadistic smile as she turned and started to walk away, throwing her voice over her shoulder to speak. "Ah well, if you're not willing to speak like civilized people, then I really must be going. After all, there's still so much work to be done if we're going to have the final solution to the Atlesian question ready in time."
"You won't win," declared the beaten and broken Sylvia as her eyes grew ever brighter.
The well-dressed Sylvia paused just as she was about to exit the room and turned around to face her captive. "What was that?"
"You won't win," repeated the imprisoned Sylvia, her eyes now shining defiantly like twin, unbroken moons. "The General won't give up so easily."
"Ironwood is no longer in any position to stop me," the free Sylvia reminded her with a sneer.
"Perhaps," agreed the prisoner before barking out a harsh and bitter laugh. "But in stopping him, you've just dug yourself in deeper. You were always going to lose eventually, but now? Now, you've invited the lion in for tea."
The free Sylvia looked at her for a moment in disbelief before scoffing, and as she turned back toward the door, she left one final parting shot: "Such heroic nonsense."
She slammed the door shut behind her, cutting off the other Sylvia's semi-hysterical laughter.
Heavy thuds echoed down the halls from the advance of the Vulture Mk. II's armored feet. They were soon joined by the booming cacophony of the autocannons mounted on each of the arms, the howl of the missiles leaping forward from each of the packs of projectiles mounted on each shoulder, the otherworldly noise of twin lasers mounted in a turret hanging beneath an armored glacis on the front. Return fire beckoned, but so too did the sound of rounds pinging off the impregnable defense of the one they called Mad Dog.
He was once more leading the charge, this time against a fairly motley collection of green and silver combat androids.
"I thought you said the automated defenses were down?" asked Snapshot pointedly as the group consisting of Team ARC and General Ironwood hid behind the power armored tinkerer.
"They are; these must not be networked," reasoned Shadow from beside her.
"They're learning from our playbook," observed General Ironwood before firing upon the androids.
There was an exit ahead, and they wasted no time running through it.
The area they found themselves in was a large room like a factory floor where a platoon of androids led by three human MECH agents were escorting a human-sized container on a hoversled. One of the humans was dressed in the familiar attire of one of the higher ranking MECH grunts, but the other two were dressed in clothing that wouldn't be out of place in a lab if it hadn't been for the color scheme. There was little doubt about it; these were Penny's captors.
The next words out of the mouth of the MECH grunt removed the rest of the doubt.
"Stay back!" barked the man while he and the androids raised their weapons, and the scientists cowered. "Another step, and the cute redhead gets a shaped charge lobotomy."
They froze, but they didn't lower their weapons.
"Now, we're going to walk right on out of here, get on our ship, and leave this all behind us," said the MECH agent slowly. "You just stay right here and stew on how you just weren't good enough to save your friend."
There was a flicker of movement near the entrance.
"That's a good little puppet," mocked the grunt as the group moved out of the factory floor. "You obey our orders just like you obey the orders of your alien masters, and everything will work out-"
A shining shuriken spun out from the dark of the roof to strike the hoversled in a very precise location, causing it to suddenly drop to the ground. The grunt looked up, and the Atlesians acted. Ironwood and Team ARRC opened fire with their non area-of-effect weapons, while simultaneously, Flint, Lady Jaye, Gung Ho, and Airborne - all newly delivered with the second wave of Bullheads that had arrived after the air defenses came down - came around the corner of the entrance to the factory floor with guns blazing.
Many of the androids whipped around to fire on the new attackers, even as those among them fell. Ironwood's group took the opportunity to start their own attack, unleashing a fusillade of death and destruction. The two attacks from two different angles with heavy ordinance turned what should have been a desperate fight into a glorified slaughter.
No sooner had the bullets stopped, though, than were the members of Team ARRC rushing over to the casket, no doubt fixated on the wish that it would not be an apt comparison to another kind of casket. By the time they arrived, Airborne and Gung Ho were already opening it up, while Flint and Lady Jaye swept the room and checked the bodies. From above, Snake Eyes dropped down in front of Ironwood.
"Good job," the general commented.
Snake Eyes nodded.
There was a gasp from Snapshot as she stood above the casket. "Penny! Your leg…"
"Friend Ruby? Friend Ciel? Professors?" rambled poor Bladerider in a disbelieving voice, now visible in the container with her left leg severed just above the knee and covered with a rubberized cap. "You came to rescue me?"
"The Atlas military never leaves a man behind, kid," quoted Gung Ho as he reached down to grab hold of her. "Now, we just got to get you out of there before some crazy booby trap goes off, and… wait a second; this ain't blood."
The perpetually open-shirted Atlesian had reached down and brushed his hand against some of the liquid collecting in the casket that had clearly slipped out from behind the cap somehow or otherwise had been there before. Gung Ho brought his hand up and sniffed the fluorescent pink liquid. His face warped in confusion.
"Smells like energon," he commented. "They do some crazy experiment on you, kid?"
"No, I'm just…" Bladerider paused briefly in horror. "A gynoid. I'm not real. I'm not-"
"Penny, we're in the middle of a combat zone!" blurted out Snapshot, and everyone glanced her way. "I'm sorry! I just think that we might not have time for an existential crisis."
"That's the right call," agreed Airborne, settling in on Bladerider's other side and helping Gung Ho pick her up.
"Why'd they take her leg?" asked Lady Jaye aloud. The brown-haired woman was the wife of Flint and seemed rather enraged about what had happened to Bladerider: small wonder why, with their daughter Marissa sitting back at Beacon's daycare center at that very moment.
"As an example to Thundercracker," put in Shadow. "While I was in the computers, I found out that MECH discovered Penny's nature during our last encounter with them. They were going to brainwash her into being an infiltrator and assassin."
The general nodded at his daughter. "Shadow, we'll debrief about what you found in the network later; right now, you and the rest of your team need to get Bladerider to safety." With that, Gung Ho and Airborne passed Penny off to Mad Dog's power armored hands. "Snake Eyes, you're with me; we're going after Thundercracker. Flint, you take the others and see what damage you can do to the other airships still on the ground. Schnell!"
And just like that, they all moved to follow his orders, with him and the ninja master running off on the other half of their rescue mission.
Raven Branwen had been asleep for but a few minutes before she was awoken by a sky shattering explosion.
In seconds, she was up and about, donning her clothing and weaponry at such speed that things seemed impossible to the normal man. Thusly, she sprang forth from her abode and out into the encampment. She found it untouched, and she was puzzled.
Then the whistling started, and the attack came screaming out of the stars. She looked up just in time to see the rocket motors of a dozen missiles twisting in a spiral pattern before they slammed into the ground. Where they impacted, fire and dirt erupted from the ground, sending men and tents and parts thereof flying into the air.
Her people were dying.
A dark shape passed overhead and vanished into the night sky. Her eyes narrowed, wings of fire flared from them, and her gaze pierced the darkness - a useful trick Summer had mentioned to her before... before - to identify their attacker: an Atlesian Skystriker, banking around for another pass.
Atlas? she thought incredulously. Had Mistral finally broken down and gone begging to their northern ally for help? Was this a consequence of Leo's shenanigans? Did they think she was in on his schemes?
As it screamed back in, the Skystriker blazed through the sky just above the treeline, laying down raking fire from its twin underslung cannons and leaving trails of fire and destruction wherever those deadly beams touched.
Raven curled her fingers, summoning the twice-stolen power she possessed. The elements were hers to command: fire, wind, water, lightning... earth.
A spire of granite thrust itself into the sky in the speeding aircraft's path, but rather than collide with it, it swerved and banked and shifted its shape to come rolling and skipping across the ground to a stop. After a moment, the Skystriker stood, now towering over them, the red, blue, and grey color scheme tinted in shades of orange from the fires that still burned around them.
She recognized him.
"Starscream," she hissed.
"Impressive trick, Raven Branwen," he sneered. "You almost got me. Earth dust, I presume?"
She said nothing. Let him think whatever he wanted to think. Instead, she focused on gathering yet more energy. The wings of fire streaming from her eyes grew brighter and larger, but the Decepticon didn't seem to notice.
"No matter," Starscream said dismissively. "You've caused me enough trouble. Tonight, you-"
She launched herself at him, Omen blurring out of its rotary sheath as she lashed out at him, again and again, battering his aura. He was tough, with aura reserves to match his size, but he was too big to dodge in these close quarters. Compared to her, boosted as she was with that stolen power, he was clumsy and slow, and even the blows he blocked carved away at his aura.
But he could get lucky. A stray backhand sent her flying, but he was unable to take advantage of the opening, for she could see Vernal rallying the tribe. Their weapons were a hodgepodge of firearms, of little use in a battle of this scale... but enough to distract him as she slashed at the air, opening a portal through which she passed, allowing the very momentum he had given her to carry her back into him at full force.
Omen's blade shattered, along with Starscream's aura.
"Aha!" Starscream crowed triumphantly. "My structural integrity field may have fallen, but it will regenerate. What will you do without a blade, hmm?"
Wordlessly, Raven sheathed Omen, activated the rotary scabbard, and drew it forth with a new blade.
"Oh," he said. "Oh, dear."
She smirked, savoring the crestfallen look on the Decepticon's face as she pressed the assault, hacking and slashing. Raising Omen up and leaping into the air, Raven brought the blade down in a powerful overhand blow. Starscream instinctively raised his right arm to block... and shrieked as her blade sparked and cracked and severed his forearm.
Raven discarded the broken blade and swapped it for another fresh one as she advanced. She'd need to get stronger blades if all transformers were this durable. Starscream tried to back away, but with a clench of her off-hand into a fist, a wall rose up behind him to cut off his escape.
Starscream brought his left arm up, the gun barrel attached to it gleaming in the fire light. It was too long and - mounted to his upper arm as it was - too unwieldy for him to effectively aim it at such close range. Still...
Omen's new blade flashed twice, severing the muzzle of the weapon, then the hand of that arm.
"No more, Raven Branwen!" Starscream pleaded as he cringed against the wall she'd summoned. "Grant me mercy, I beg of you!"
Raven didn't even deign his plea with an answer.
The strong live. The weak die.
She slashed again and again, replacing the blades as they failed under the impacts, until Starscream lay on the ground, his limbs severed, unable to even try to escape.
Raven stood on his abdomen, looking down on him. She'd been watching the Autobots and Decepticons in their battles, and even here, what Starscream tried to protect only confirmed it.
She tapped Omen's blade - the sixth one for the night - right on the center of his chest. "Right here, isn't it?" she asked rhetorically. "Your... 'spark chamber,' was it?"
Starscream's eyes widened, and Raven held up a fist, gathering and focusing the twice-stolen power at her disposal. Around them, small rocks and other debris trembled and danced, some even lifting off the ground as the air positively hummed with energy.
KRAKA-THOOM!
The night turned briefly to day, a lightning bolt more powerful than she'd ever before seen the need to create splitting the sky. Starscream howled as it struck his chest, piercing through the living metal, and as Raven blinked her eyes clear, releasing the magic at her command, she stepped forward and glanced down.
The bolt had carved straight through him, front to back, burning a hole that cored him. His eyes, once glowing red, were dim.
She let her shoulders relax as she hopped off and began to walk away, the fatigue finally catching up to her.
It was over.
She heard a ragged cheer and looked up, her gaze sweeping across the survivors of the tribe that gathered there, weapons in hand, with Vernal - ever faithful Vernal - in the lead, a rare smile gracing her face. A faint smile crossed Raven's own lips in reply.
They had been tested, and they had survived. They would recover, and they would rise from this stronger than ever.
The strong live. The weak die.
A gasp cut through the cheering, and Raven saw one of them - Shay, wasn't it? - pointing in horror.
Raven turned, eyes widening as she saw Starscream staggering to his feet, his injuries healing. Most of his limbs had reattached themselves somehow, and the hole in his chest was being filled up with some kind of syrupy gray substance that was launching itself from one side to the other like a lathe. Suddenly, the severed hand flew up and reattached itself to his wrist.
Starscream was once again fully armed and operational.
"You fool!" he taunted. "As you can see, not even destroying my spark chamber will kill me. My spark endures! I am immortal! I cannot be killed! Not even mighty Megatron can slay me!"
Raven froze as a familiar terror clutched at her heart, and she backed away, shaking her head in disbelief.
This couldn't- it wasn't possible!
And yet, as Starscream, laughing, rose to his full height, towering over them... it was.
She took another trembling step back, raising Omen before her. She screwed her eyes shut and brought the blade slashing down, cutting a tear in reality itself, then dove through.
"Fall back!" she heard Vernal order. "Retreat!"
And the portal closed.
They could see another large casket, like the one that had contained Bladerider multiplied a hundredfold, being loaded onto one of the airships. They had evidently been seen, too, though, and the mighty airship began to take off. Ironwood and Snake Eyes redoubled their efforts and soon were bounding across the remaining space between them.
With one final mighty leap, Ironwood came close to that airship, and then while in the air, he drew his sidearms and fired. The recoil propelled him into the sky and towards the ascending vessel. Again and again, he fired, and soon, he found himself flying through the narrow gap of the MECH ship's closing cargo door.
Somehow, Snake Eyes was beside him already, because of course he was.
Ironwood rolled to the side behind the giant casket, just barely dodging a single shot from an assault rifle.
"Everyone, get out of here!" barked the voice of a dead man: Colonel Leland Bishop.
There was a mad scramble of boots moving towards the front, and then there was only one set of steps against the metal.
"Colonel Bishop?" shouted Ironwood.
There was a chuckle. "General Ironwood? My, this is impressive. When was the last time you went into the field personally? It's been years, hasn't it?"
"I'm not rusty, if that's what you're implying," remarked Ironwood even as he quietly reloaded his guns.
"I'll be the judge of that, if you don't mind," commented that surreal voice.
Then, suddenly, there was a burst of automatic weapons fire.
"You brought Snake Eyes along with you? You brought a Joe?!"
Ironwood raised an eyebrow at the mad reply. "I think you've gone loopy when you went into hiding, Colonel Bishop."
Ironwood whipped out from around cover and aimed his primary sidearm at the - slightly more beat up since the last time they had met - face of Bishop. He fired. The rogue colonel dodged, just barely, and slid behind cover himself.
"Please, call me Silas," remarked Bishop. "If you're cavorting with the Joes, you might as well use the lingo."
"You're speaking nonsense," shot back Ironwood as he began to search for a way to get a drop on Silas; sure, he'd play that name game, for now at least.
There was another belch of automatic gunfire, and Ironwood leapt atop the casket to fire down at Silas. A round hit, and it sent him spinning into an immediate recovery that he used to open fire on the general. They both retreated onto opposite sides of the casket after that.
"I'm speaking the truth!" insisted Silas. "You're just too blind to see it."
"I see that you're just a thief looking for a quick lien," countered Ironwood with righteous fury. "That's why you created MECH."
"A temporary means to a permanent end," reasoned Silas. "I created MECH to protect Remnant from invasion."
Ironwood felt like laughing. "Nice try, Bishop, but the timing doesn't quite work out."
"Not the Decepticons, General," Silas scoffed. "We've already been invaded, years ago."
What on Remnant is he talking about? Ironwood wondered.
"Tell me," Silas continued, "does the word 'Equestria' mean anything to you?"
Ironwood looked over in confusion at Snake Eyes, who shrugged.
"Can't say it does," replied Ironwood, noticing in the gloom for the first time the controls for the cargo door and the casket's hoversled.
With a quick series of gestures, Ironwood directed Snake Eyes to take care of Silas while he took care of the mission. The ninjitsu professor nodded in assent. They weren't likely to get another shot at it, but Snake Eyes was the best, and he could get them that luck.
"Then you are just as ignorant as I thought you were," sneered Silas.
Snake Eyes leapt over the casket, and soon, the sound of clashing metal and hand-to-hand combat could be heard. Ironwood didn't waste any time, rushing towards the cargo bay door controls. He very nearly didn't stop, but he managed to slow down enough such that he didn't break anything and got a hold on the lever long enough to throw it down.
The doors were opening, and Ironwood used a recoil boost from one of his pistols to fling himself back to the casket. The wind was howling then, but he kept his focus on the mission. He hit the controls marked for release on the casket, and the top opened with a spring to reveal the surprised blue and grey face of Thundercracker.
"General Ironwood!" shouted the shocked Decepticon. "Why are you here?!"
"No man left behind, Thundercracker," replied the general, aiming his pistol at some of the bonds keeping the Cybertronian in place and studiously trying to ignore Penny's severed leg that someone had decided to duct tape to the floor of the casket on the other side of him.
"But General… I'm not one of your men," pointed out Thundercracker in what sounded like embarrassment.
Ironwood fired an SAP-HE round at the metal keeping Thundercracker's right wrist secured, blowing it apart. "That's where you're wrong. We're not leaving without you."
"'We'?" asked Thundercracker.
As if on cue, Snake Eyes went flying over their heads… to land crumpled on the floor.
"How…?" began Ironwood, trailing off to avoid the lid closing again.
"If you had focused your efforts and worked together instead of splitting your attention, you wouldn't need to ask that question," answered Silas, stepping atop the casket lid.
Ironwood dove towards the end of the casket that was furthest into the airship, the end with many controls for the hoversled it was mounted on. With a flip, Silas landed in front of him. Any attempt to go further into the ship to force a landing was out of the question now.
"But then again, you've always had that problem, haven't you, General?" continued Silas. "That lack of focus has kept you from following the leads and pulling back the curtain on what's really going on."
"I know exactly what's going on," retorted Ironwood, searching out of the corner of his eye for the right controls for what he needed.
Silas laughed. "You think that just because you know about magic, the Maidens, the Relics, and Salem, you know what's really going on? Did you think that just because that senile old reincarnating wizard Ozpin couldn't see past his stale game of chess that the real world didn't exist? You know nothing, James Ironwood."
Time seemed to freeze for James as his heart understood what Silas was saying, but his mind failed to comprehend it. "How could you know that?"
That bald, scarred head smirked. "I told you. I didn't stop digging, not for a long time. That's how I learned about G.I. Joe, an insidious conspiracy that's used as a puppet to control the world for invaders from a parallel world called Equestria. They control everything, and everyone, even you."
Ironwood shook his head. "No. No, that's not possible."
"Come now, James, you're too smart for that," insisted Silas, and then, the leader of MECH held out his hand. "Stop this senseless killing. Join me, and together, we can free this world as comrades in arms."
Ironwood's reply was to jam his right arm into the controls of the hoversled, sending out sparks and flames to burn his gloves and sleeves. He yanked out a collection of wires, and with that, the hoversled shot out the cargo bay doors. Revealed now was the mechanical nature of his right arm, a cybernetic replacement… just like everything else on the right side of his body. He hated seeing that, but he loved his men more.
Silas moved to seize a gun and strike the general down, but Ironwood was already running across the hangar to grab hold of Snake Eyes's limp form. The black suited ninja was thrown over his back, and he transitioned into a dead sprint. The salvos of fire came far too late.
Ironwood leapt out of the door of the ship, Snake Eyes's unconscious body still gripped tightly in his arms. As he was spinning around, he saw the ship they had just left fade from view. Because of course MECH had invisibility; that was just the sort of day he had been having.
He pointed one of his pistols, Due Process, down towards the ground and fired a gravity round to recoil boost and slow his descent. It worked, slightly. He was still falling far too quickly and picking up speed again.
He fired again, and again, and again, and it was at that point where he realized he was out of ammunition in the cylinder. He holstered Due Process quick as he could, shifting his position to place Snake Eyes above him as he groped awkwardly for his other pistol. The general would probably die, but if his men could live, then it was a fair trade.
It was a trade that never had to be made. Suddenly, and yet slowly, Ironwood felt his speed decreasing. His descent was getting more and more sluggish, until eventually he stopped.
He had happened to stop at just the right height to be face to face with a very pleasantly smiling Glynda Goodwitch, and that in turn brought joy to his heart.
"Hello again, James," she said sweetly. "Fancy meeting you here."
"Oh, you know, just thought I'd drop in," replied Ironwood with a shrug.
He was settled onto the ground of the valley in which Site 13 still sat, and with that, so too did he settle Snake Eyes to lie there. Ironwood stood up, and the first thing to catch his eye was that Aska was staring at him with unmasked awe. The second thing to catch his eye was the crowd of Valish soldiers with weapons drawn backed up by the Valish airships in the sky.
"Well, isn't that just adorable?" sneered the leader of the Valish forces as he stalked forward. "General Ironwood? I'm Colonel Jack Burns, National Emergency Strike Team. Would you mind telling me, in small words, why you thought it was okay to begin having a pitched battle over a crime scene that we were just about to comb for evidence?"
Ironwood straightened up and walked right up to Colonel Burns to look down on him. "I was rescuing my men, Colonel."
Burns's eyes narrowed and he flung his arm out to point at where Thundercracker was coming out of the casket that had evidently survived the fall. "That is not a man. That is a giant alien robot."
"Call him whatever you want; he's under my protection either way," retorted Ironwood. "You have a problem with that, you can take it up with the embassy."
There was a shift in Burns's position, and he pointed his finger at Ironwood's face. "Oh, I will. Count on that."
With that, the colonel turned and stalked back towards his soldiers and back towards the interior of Site 13, and when he had gotten far enough away, Flint came up with the most enforced stoicism Ironwood had ever seen on him.
"Sir, I…" began Flint in whisper, trailing off.
"What's wrong, Flint? Out with it," ordered General Ironwood.
Flint looked like he still had to steel himself after that. "Sir, I regret to inform you that the Provisional Council of Atlas has voted to dismiss you from your position as commanding general, to be replaced by General Joseph B. Colton, and to suspend you from your position as headmaster of Atlas Academy until such time as a suitable replacement can be found. The council has also voted to have you dishonorably discharged, and as such, you are no longer a member of the Atlesian military. We have also been ordered to place you under house arrest at Beacon Academy until you can be transferred to a prisoner transport for extradition back to Atlas, where you will be facing charges of conspiracy to commit fraud, conspiracy to commit terrorism, conspiracy to commit mass murder, misuse of government property, several counts of first degree murder, kidnapping, falsifying documents, high treason, and several other crimes yet to be decided."
Ironwood's jaw flexed open and closed like a dying fish, his expression otherwise completely blank.
"Oh."
Raven staggered into the bar through the rolling, garage-style door; curious choice, that.
The mustachioed bartender was cleaning some glasses - did bartenders ever run out of glasses to clean? - and watching some news broadcast on the holographic display in the corner.
"-and in other news, Billy the Third escaped from his enclosure on the Beacon farm. He was quickly caught and returned to his enclosure, but not before wreaking havoc on the academy's vegetable garden."
Huh, Raven thought, the goat's still there.
At the start of their fourth year, she'd stumbled across some ancient rule granting the top-ranking fourth-year team the right to keep a goat on Beacon's farm. She'd been so tickled with the idea - and it was another way to prove that Team STRQ was the best - that she'd convinced Summer to invoke the rule in question. Besides, goats were good eating, if the need arose. She'd heard some third-year team talking about continuing it next year; apparently, they had, and they weren't the only ones.
Good times, she thought morosely as she planted herself on one of the round orange bar stools.
"What can I get ya?" the bartender asked, setting down the glass he'd been cleaning.
"Strongest thing you've got," she demanded, slapping some lien from a stash she'd raided on the counter. "Leave the bottle."
The bartender hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
"You got it." He reached down under the bar and pulled out a bottle and a fresh glass, setting it before her.
Almost before he let go, she snatched the bottle from his hand and tore the cork out with her teeth. Ignoring the glass, she began to chug.
The strong live. The weak die. The strong live. The weak die. The strong live. The weak die.
So why was she still alive?
Gen- no, James stared into the shot of whiskey in his hand, rocking it back and forth, sending the ice cubes clinking against the glass. Qrow Branwen hadn't been particularly subtle when he was hauling the non-alcoholic beverages out of this little hidey hole in order to replace it with harder stuff.
James had let it go. After all, while he was concerned about security for the Vytal Festival, enforcing campus rules - unless it was his students breaking them - wasn't his job, and it had seemed harmless enough. While he wasn't a lush like Qrow and would never drink while on-duty, James was no teetotaler and had shared more than a few drinks with his fellow comrades in arms.
Well, former comrades now, he supposed.
He threw his head back, chugging the whiskey, savoring the feeling as it burned its way down his throat, then lowered the shot glass to the table, gazing at it, debating whether to refill it or not.
So, this was how it ended. A lifetime of blood, sweat, and tears, all shed to protect the kingdom he loved, not just from the Grimm or terrorist groups like the White Fang, but also from threats like the Decepticons, no matter how hobbled he had been, and Salem, no matter that she was a threat almost no one in Atlas knew of... and this was how it ended.
Crack!
He blinked as he realized he'd let slip control of his cybernetic hand and squeezed too hard. The shot glass hadn't shattered, no, but it had certainly cracked. With a sigh of disgust, he shoved it aside and reached over to grab a fresh one, pouring himself another shot, not bothering with the ice this time.
But he didn't drink it, not yet.
He closed his eyes and let the tears fall.
"It's all right," a familiar voice murmured into his right ear as a warm weight fell across his shoulders. "We're here for you."
He blinked and looked to his right. It was Glynda, her arm wrapped around his shoulders in a side hug.
"'We'?" he repeated.
She nodded past him, and he looked to his left. Standing there diffidently were Aska and Kogetsu.
"Father, I..." Aska said hesitantly, trailing off. "I have not been a very good daughter, have I?"
"I haven't exactly been the best father," was the first thing he could think of to say. Ever since he'd taken them in, he'd provided for them, tried to be there for them, but duty always called, duty to Atlas, to the military, to the academy, to Ozpin. They understood, he thought, but it had put a strain on their relationship nonetheless.
Aska rushed him, wrapping her arms around him. "I am sorry!" she cried. "If I had done better, if I had kept Penny from being abducted-"
"Don't blame yourself, Aska," he said, shaking his head. "They would have found another excuse. It was only a matter of time. I only hope I have done enough "
"He is right, Sister," Kogetsu said as he, too, approached, stepping around the bar. His eyes scanned the selection, and his quick hands darted out, retrieving a pair of small saucers and a bottle of sake. "Let us not worry about fault now, or the future. Not tonight." He set them on the bar.
James cocked an eyebrow.
"No one should have to drink alone."
Author's Note 1 (Cyclone):
And so, this massive four-parter is finally complete. It appears that, had we kept it together, it would in fact have been the 50k chapter Cody, for some insane reason, has been wanting. I don't think it would have worked as well, though, as the four parts of this chapter really had little to do with each other beyond happening on the same day.
Most of the fighting at Site 13 and the Council meeting were Cody's stuff, but the Raven stuff is all me. Cody might be onto something when he tells me Raven's apparently my favorite character...
She may be a terrible person, but she's a fascinating character. The thing is, with some characters, you have to break them down before you can build them back up.
Also, we get another peek at how our version of Vale's government works, and it looks like a lot more secrets have come out than might be expected.
Author's Note 2 (Cody MacArthur Fett):
That section with Ironwood at the end was written by Cyclone, and though I helped plan it out I still cried twice while reading it - and then again during the vocal readthrough, those Aska lines always get me, it seems. I don't know if anyone else will get that reaction - in fact, I suspect there will be a fair number of people who feel that Ironwood got what he deserved and so will shed no tears - but it worked for me. I wasn't expecting that on the development side.
Man, if this thing had stayed at its original length it would have meant that each and every one of you readers would have been getting juggled in the air by one plot twist after the other. Heck, in this last part as it is we have five major reveals or plot twists going on. Any one of them would be a wham episode in and of themselves, but tucked in as they are now? Yikes. Now, just imagine what would have happened had this chapter's twists been included with the other chapters' twists. Would anyone have been able to keep track of it all? . . . I don't know, probably. Law of large numbers, and all that.
And yes, in case you're wondering, stuff like Starscream being immortal and the reveal of who MECH thinks is behind the Joes are supposed to be reveals to you the readers where you have no idea what's going on and want to know more. After all, not everything in this story is Dramatic Irony. Sometimes the readers and even our closest friends are just as in the dark as everyone else.
Ironwood getting his head on the chopping block? We didn't set out to write that, but as the story progressed we felt it was the only direction the story could go. I wonder how many of you saw that coming. A fair bit less that I would think, I suspect, since most people have been going on about wondering how we're going to adapt volume 7, something which is eminently obvious to be impossible now.
A lot of things are impossible now, actually. The last chapter will be the last station of canon… ever, I think. So I hope you enjoy it. It will be the last chance you ever get.