The Random Hand of Fate

by TheMightyTeaRex

"Destiny is not set in stone. It only takes one grain of rice to tip a scale, one pebble falling into the sea to start a tidal wave; Every action, no matter how small has an effect on the future. So, tell me... do you believe in destiny?" Real-world SI. First-time fanfic. Rated M for violence, gore, swearing, smut (later on) and alcohol. Warhammer 40K characters in Remnant.

29. Bearing Your Soul

Admittedly, this Chapter is a bit shorter than normal (1000 words or so) but I admit I've been wanting to actually get to the bloody major battles sooner rather than later. Still, some smaller stuff happens here, though it is a bit slower a chapter. Hope you guys still like it!

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Chapter 29: Bearing your Soul

It is a strange thing that we mortal men do, that we should bear our hearts to one another in desperation to both save they who listen from our follies and save ourselves from our loneliness. —Unknown

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The room was dark, save for a few pinpricks of light that shone through the tiniest of holes in the shutters of the room. Late afternoon light stared into the lights at an angle that placed their projections on floor just at the base of the window sill. No other light was allowed in at the moment, blocked out as she sat on her Beacon-issued bed, her mind slow but sharp as she lulled herself into her thoughts. Her legs were crossed before her lap, her hands also there as she began her methodical deep breathing. Her eyes began to lull close as she sank deeper into her own mind.

She felt the heat lick at the inside of her chest. She grimaced in annoyance. Gods damn this fire, Cinder thought to herself. When will it just accept and submit to me?

She sat in quiet meditation, the fire within her gnawing again. Oh, how that damnable fire gnawed at her at the worst times. Sure, meditation was not a priority, but even after her ascension it never hurt to do some at the very least. Meditation gave you focus, gave you clarity, made you stronger. Not that she needed to be any stronger, but it never hurt to widen the gap. Besides, there was still the biggest threat out there, currently watching over the school from his black and emerald tower high above them.

Cinder hated having others look down on her, in any semblance of the concept. It didn't befit her status, considering the power she held. Only one truly held a greater power over her, and it was often that Cinder entertained questions of how long would that power remain in Salem's grasp. She wouldn't go out of her way to weaken Salem, of that there was a certainty; they had a much bigger and much more important enemy to attend to in Ozpin and the Kingdoms. She was not one to charge blindly into her plans of power-plays, though she could if there was no choice in the matter. But now, now there was no need for power plays or scheming against her benefactor. It did neither any favors.

And then there was her mentor. She smiled as she unconsciously took upon his guidance in her meditations; where the normal breed of meditation that a Mistrali native might take upon themselves, balance was key to everything, including power, the balance of the power itself and the wielder to make it strong, as the old priests that once lived in the mountains overlooking Mistral proper and the villages surrounding it would say.

But he preached to her of ironclad meditations. Of balancing oneself to hold dominion over the power itself. Never letting one's self become weak, lest the power become too great to control, and it in turn would consume the wielder. Power was not one to be gained by force of arms, but to be forceful of will, to make others give it to you, willingly or not in their case.

Her eyes closed as the fire rose again, defying her. Her mind focused less on the flame itself and more on the image of her own being, a shadow of herself clad in the glow of her Aura as she encircled the flame. The flame sat within her shape, it was not before her or apart of her, and yet it was; it was no different from any weapon and their Huntsman wielder. It was hers to command, and without its wielder, the powers of the Fall Maiden could do nothing. No avatar to wield its power, it had no power over the domains of the world. It needed her far more than she needed it.

The flame batted against the idea, roaring defiantly in response. It was nothing more than a petulant tantrum as far as she was concerned, not worth her time and energy despite the bonfire that it tried to become.

Her body was physically reacting now. Sweat poured from her body in every corner, the flames licking everywhere, even trying to play dirty and light a fire even in her southern half. She only snickered in delighted contempt; how pathetic a thing that it must try something like that.

In her mind, the great claw reappeared over Cinder's shadow, but rather than closing in on her, it moved slowly across her head, the palm touching the crown of her head rather than the claws, brushing the top of her head delicately, as if she were made of china. A pet of endearment, less like a dog and more like a child.

Her mentor; a father he may not have been by any traditional sense of the phrase, but he was wise and kind and showed her the meaning of true strength. His training of her was fierce and dangerous, but even for a man like him it had been so strange how much he pushed her to do better, not of contempt, but... because he saw in her what she saw in her.

The capacity to become something new, something beyond the normal confines of Man.

The flame was crushed in the great claw, but the heat did not extinguish. Instead, as the claw left, the flame was now tiny, uniform and symmetrical in its patterns. Balanced, in her control by her will and her desire to control it.

She smiled wickedly. "In my reforging, I grow ever stronger."

She sat in silence as the image continued, and the heat became naught but a tiny flicker in her bosom.

There was a knock at the door.

She took a breath as she came down from her meditations. "Enter."

The door opened and in spilled the light of the hallway. Green hair and ebony skin met her as the light assaulted her eyes.

"Oh," Emerald squeaked in a tone befitting one who had stumbled upon something intimate. "I'm sorry, did I interrupt your meditations?"

Cinder smiled at the subservient girl, her amber orbs alight with fire as they met with the red irises of her lackey. Had Cinder not been busy with the plan, perhaps she would entertain the very obvious desires that ran in Emerald's head. It would certainly keep the girl under her thumb with ease. Perhaps the same could apply to Mercury should he show some vestige of interest. "On the contrary," Cinder replied, "you arrived just as I finished. I take it things were productive?"

Emerald sighed as she closed the door behind her, flipping the overhead lights on. "Relatively," she replied. "I was able to get in contact with Roman over the CCT sub-channels. He's saying that already everything from the White Fang is in place and they're just waiting for Eliphas' group to arrive. On top of that, two more members of the Eightfold Path have arrived at the camp."

Cinder smiled. "Do tell."

"One goes by some geeky name—Nemerock or Nemesis or something—"

"Nemeroth," Cinder said with a nod. "Good, good, I didn't think he would come. He has a ridiculously grandiose ego, but he's served the Eightfold Path with distinction in the past, especially beside Eliphas. He'll serve our needs quite well. And what of the other?"

"All Roman said was that he refused to give his name. Only thing he could describe was... eugh, a bandolier of skulls and a chainsaw-axe. Said he's in red armor and he's got a badge like two sets of teeth eating a green and blue marble."

Cinder's smile grew even wider. "Oh, that is delicious," she said with a chuckle. "I thought he had been off in Vacuo hunting down some of the other Inquisition members."

"Must be ahead of schedule, I guess."

Cinder smiled as she stood up and stretched, letting Emerald take in her stretched, curvy form as she opened the blinds behind her. "Of that, I have no doubt. Excellent. Inform Roman when you can that he should treat our guests to some opportunities on the edge of the city. They have cultist members who will no doubt be coming with them, and they all have the right to stretch their legs and get some practice in for the big night."

Emerald seemed a bit perturbed by the idea—it was the glint in her eyes, Cinder deduced—but she nodded resolutely. "I'll send him a message right now. Anything else?"

"Considering the Dance has been moved later to a week or two from now, we will want to look into alternative routes into the CCT Tower. With Ironwood's forces mulling about, there's little doubt that we can't sneak in as we planned."

Emerald frowned in disappointment. "What's our next move, then?"

Cinder held up a hand. "Patience, Emerald. An opportunity will present itself before the Dance, I have no doubt of that. And even if that were not to happen, Watts' virus works fast enough that a week won't matter. Well, at least according to him."

Emerald's frown didn't leave. "I don't know, Cinder, that's a big part of the plan. Shouldn't we try to—"

"Uh-uh-uh," Cinder interrupted, raising a finger. "Remember what I told you?"

Emerald's comment died in her throat, her eyes navigating towards the ground in shame, as if she were a scolded puppy. "'Don't think,'" she repeated. "'Obey.' I'm sorry, Cinder."

"Don't worry about that, Emerald. Your concern is valid. But I have some ideas in mind. "

"Understood. Anything more I should take care of?"

Cinder's mind wheeled through things before her mind found itself reliving the fight with Muller the previous day. It was quite something in all honesty, purely a spar to show how even when she handicapped herself, she could wipe the floor with anyone. Granted, had she fought Ms. Nikos, that would have truly been a test of skill, but regardless it had been nice to let her hounds of war slip for a few minutes, lest she get rusty.

"Do we have anything new on Mr. Muller," she asked. "His ties to the Inquisition do put our plans into view of Ozpin."

"Well," Emerald said, "I followed him to the auditorium about an hour after class. He's starting tutoring with Professor Ultramar and Professor Cain."

Cinder's smile never changed in strength, only in tone. "Really? Tutoring for what?"

"Looks like swordsmanship with his chainsaw-sword."

Cinder nodded. "How interesting. He's actually trying to get better after that."

"You think he's onto us?"

"I think he has a notion, but I doubt he has any true idea of what he's dealing with."

"Should I have Mercury keep close?"

Cinder shook her head. "He won't hamper our plans. I sincerely doubt it, at least. Still, perhaps it would be wise to keep an eye on him in case he does get too close."

"Got it," Emerald said with a nod. She turned to go, but Cinder had one last thing to say.

"Emerald," she began, letting her voice become sultry in tone. "You've done wonderfully for our cause, and for me as well."

Emerald seemed to blush a small bit. "You've done a lot for me, Cinder," she replied. "It's the least I can do."

"Perhaps, but perhaps not as well. Keep up this pace... and I will see to it you are rewarded... greatly." A single hand traced her leg seductively.

The blush became bright, as if her face would become a neon sign. "O-of course, Cinder. As you wish." And with that, she disappeared though the door with urgent speed, as if her life—or her libido—depended on her haste.

Cinder smiled devilishly as she thought over how much Mercury and Emerald made this easier. Then again, having been a part of something other than Salem's faction had left her open to not needing them. Still, it was definitely nice.

She reached into the pocket of her vest and produced a pendant, one that was near and dear to her. A star of eight points set inside a circle, the bottom point longer than the rest.

"Recast and reborn."

---

"...And the Wolves obliged him. In their ignorance, as tragic as our own, they fell upon us. Even now, I do not hate the Wolves. Their only sin was to be betrayed by those they trusted. In that more innocent age, they had no reason to doubt the First Warmaster's words."

"A Thousand Sons veteran of Prospero who doesn't hate the Wolves. That's about as unlikely as Disney releasing Song of the South on DVD."

Jacob's eyes continued to follow the pages, his interest piqued by the first 65 pages before this one. The mid-evening light made for a soft glow over his pages, avoiding the hassles of streaks of shadow as he would have gotten had he began reading these in the morning.

Speaking of Song of the South, his phone's music selection changed again, this time becoming the soft tones of a big-band type composition playing That's What Uncle Remus Said as he read on. Without even thinking about it, his head began to bob to the music, and the faintest whispers of a hum escaped his sealed lips in tune to the music. His left foot began to tap as it hung in the air, slung over his right knee as he reclined back on his half-made bed. Considering everything else, the bed and the tidiness of his room had begun to falter as he fell back on old habits, his day focused on keeping appearances with the professors and also preparing for the Vytal Tournament, as well as what came before and what came after it. As far as he was concerned, it was very unlikely that after that night that he would return to that room unless it was to retrieve things he missed.

But that didn't stop him from taking a little bit to unwind by himself. Granted, the book now in his hands would have made the Imperials balk in surprise and worry of his allegiances.

Once again, his backpack had spit out another couple books; at this point, he was wondering if he should look down the main compartment and try to see if there was a portal back home, maybe grab a few extra firearms from home before he came back, or maybe grab something more classical to read from his bookshelf in his bedroom. Alas, for now, he had been gifted with another two books from the Black Library that were not even part of his collection. The first was in his hands right now, The Talon of Horus, and when it and its sequel Black Legion had been pulled from his backpack, he had almost dropped them as if they were possessed, some part of his mind acting on the thought that the real deals of Warhammer were here at this juncture; suddenly having Chaos-y things manifest made him wonder if he should ask Inquisitor Spinoza—or as she kept saying to him Professor Spinoza, six of one, half dozen or another—if she could teach him how to pray to the Emperor. Then another part of him reached for his Bible, some part of him hoping speaking scripture of the Gospel would keep the demons at bay. At the end of the 2-minute minor freak out he decided to leave the books there with the other two books that had left the bag; His old standby reads of Jurassic Park and The Lost World. Those two he was glad to see once again, the massive hardback of the second and small softback of the first bringing back memories of reading it on his elementary school playground out of boredom when his only friends were elsewhere.

"…Perhaps I was just lonely aboard my ghost ship—surrounded by the ashen dead too mind-scourged to recall our past together—and saw a last chance to fight alongside kindred who deserved my trust. Perhaps the resurrection of Horus was an abomination I could neither tolerate nor risk.

Perhaps I just wanted the Nine Legions' flagship for myself."

Jacob scoffed to himself. Typical Traitor Legions. Considering the opportunity to backstab one another at the first sign of advancing up the ranks. And yet he was still intrigued. This was something different from what he had thought of in regards to the Chaos Legions. On the one hand, he knew about the fractures of the World Eaters and the Alpha Legion and knew that at least Ahriman had gone flying solo after his little stunt with the Rubric. On the other hand, he thought that the others had remained relatively unified in the aftermath of the Heresy. Word Bearers, the Emperor's Children, the rest of the Thousand Sons, even the Sons of Horus. Seeing that the Sons of Horus on the knife's edge of extinction had raised a metaphorical brow on his forehead; how could the Black Legion—a Chaos force millions of Astartes strong according to some—have gone from a nearly dead Legion to being that? He didn't exactly read the Chaos Marine codex in much detail, but he knew that the Black Legion had been descended from the Sons of Horus. What filled in that massive disconnect?

He was realizing just how much like the Imperials he really was; he knew jack and shit about the Traitors, and the Traitors were here on Remnant. Perhaps this book would help with getting mentally ahead of the game before they could come about and bite his ass.

That is if he could get through it before the Breach or the Battle of Beacon.

His Scroll buzzed in earnest beside his phone, the two a practical yin and yang in design, his black and angular phone beside his bright-white and round-edged future-tech. He reached over and opened the thing as it buzzed again; a call. It was a number that said "[REDACTED]".

Now it was time for his brow to really raise rather than metaphorically so. "Hello," he asked as he answered it.

"Hi, Jacob," replied the singsong voice of Penny.

He couldn't stop the smile that crossed his face as he stored that title and number away for reference. "Hey, Penny. What's up?"

She didn't respond at first, only then saying, "Uh, not a lot at this current moment. I just finished charging all weapon systems and recalibrating my internal software firewalls."

Jacob was already fully aware she wanted to at least talk, but he doubted that was the only thing. "Okay," he said, "but you wouldn't call me just for the sake of giving me an intelligence report on your systems."

"That's not true," she replied, "My software has been able to detect several viruses bouncing around the CCT Network, despite the current lack of Cinder Fall's interaction with the network."

Jacob hissed at the mention of Cinder's name as he worried that she had managed to bug their systems; it wasn't likely, but it was always a possibility. "Uh, Penny..."

She was silent before she made a sound of realization, "Ohhh," she said slowly. "Oopsies."

He set the book down, Abaddon the Despoiler staring back at him with a roar in two dimensions. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he soon replied," It's alright, Penny. I'm inclined to agree with your sentiment. It's not likely they do have access yet, or we would have seen the signs. Not like in the show it wasn't visible from high fucking orbit."

"I doubt that someone that high in altitude would be able to see a computer virus in action," she said in response.

The slap that resulted from Jacob introducing his palm to his face was apparently quite audible. "Are you okay? I heard a slapping sound."

"Figure of speech, Penny," he said calmly. "Anyway, we'll act when something comes along; if we attempt to act prematurely, we might bring people's attention to us and then the whole plan goes down the metaphorical trash."

"You keep saying that," she said analytically, "to both me and the Imperials."

"Half the time it's me reminding them and you and the other half is me reminding myself. Anyway, back to the subject at hand; you didn't just call for a diagnostic on the plan, did you?"

Penny was silent for a few seconds. "Well..."

"Come on, Penny," he said, "we're friends here, tell me the truth."

"...I did want to see more motion pictures from your home. I was interested in some of the ones I saw in your data files: There's the rest of the Star Wars movies, something called The Last... Sam-ur-ai," she said, struggling with the pronunciation of 'samurai' by giving it an 'E' sound at the end rather than an 'I', "and that one film named... Jura—uh, J-U-R-R-A-S—"

"It's pronounced 'Jurassic,' Penny. It's a time period in Earth's prehistory, back when dinosaurs existed," he said, only realizing too late that they probably didn't have paleontology on Remnant out of the fact that it was probably suicide to go searching for fossils outside the Kingdoms, as well as with the existence of magic and gods this was a very real case of "Young Earth"; ergo, no fossils.

"Prehistory? Dinosaurs?"

"Stuff that happened before recorded history," Jacob clarified. "I'll explain it better when I get over there."

"Okay then! I'll be waiting at the pond, under the oak tree. See you there!"

And at that, the call ended, leaving Jacob bemusedly exasperated. He began to pack up for the walk over to their meeting place, scooping up his backpack and slid his books into the camo-patterned pack. With a hoist of the offending pack onto his back, he glanced down at his watch. 6:05 in the evening, and nothing else he was planning to do for the evening. "Yeah, plenty of time. I'll be right over."

He was out the door without a second thought, watching both ways in hopes that he would not be met with anyone else on the way over. As he descended the stairwell rather than take the elevator, his mind began to wander to other things, the image of Abaddon burned into his mind as his mind raced. The notion that other Chaos Marines had been seen running about Remnant had set him on edge, some part of his mind wondering if all those present were some manner of Veteran of the Long War. Perhaps it was just Eliphas the Inheritor, and then the rest were newer, less experienced Chaos Marines. After all, Red Corsairs, Blood Wolves, all of these had been mentioned by the group earlier and hardy any of them were particularly old warbands. Now, granted, the Alpha Legion and Iron Warriors did worry him, but they seemed to be scattered and/or dead, and were probably not a significant threat.

But missing members did not mean that members of those Legions were still out there, and Jacob was fully aware of it. His mind raced with potentials of who was here beside Eliphas; If a Dark Apostle so high-profile as he was made their way to Remnant, then there was little doubt that other names may have made their way as well.

His mind raced with names. Fabius Bile, the manic apothecary; Honsou, the Iron Warrior who created the Daemonculaba; Araghast the Pillager of the Black Legion; the meme-inducing lunatic Firaeveus Carron; Erebus, another Word Bearer and the original catalyst of the Heresy; Nemeroth, Titus' opponent and Chaos Undivided Sorcerer in the Space Marine game...

Arkos the Faithless, Erebus, Kor Phaeron, Svane Vulfbad, Sindri Myr, Luther, Huron Blackheart, Eidolon, Iskandar Khayon...

Ahzek Ahriman.

His stomach clenched at the notion that Ahriman could fall in battle, not with how close he'd gotten to the Black Library. His arcane spells would turn them all inside out, if not into smoldering ash piles or... or Chaos Spawn.

Lucius the Eternal.

Now his blood felt a flash of cold. He wouldn't wish Lucius' hedonisms and perversions to befall even Cinder considering everything.

Calas Typhon... Typhus.

The idea of plague zombies rising up on Remnant in the name of Papa Nurgle filled his mind with that name, the sadistic side of his brain adding a zombified RWBY and JNPR to the mix. His hands were clammy now, beginning to shine with sweat.

He was now down the stairwell and into the foyer, his mind so preoccupied that while he noticed Sun, Delia and Blake talking off to the side, he made no comment, only waving to them and getting a small wave from both in return.

Khârn.

His stomach churned now. He knew full well his mind was overreacting, but he couldn't stop the thoughts; Hell, to stop them would mean that he would not be prepared for anything. All the while, his brain imagined the two teams fighting the chosen Champion of Khorne, getting batted aside like bugs in a hurricane.

Ezekyle Abaddon.

He forced open both doors and walked out into the warm evening light, the sun now beginning to hide behind the tree line and casting the sky in reds, oranges and violets not unlike the skies of home. But his mind didn't care as it raced. It cast a singular image of Abaddon towering over Ruby and Pyrrha, the Talon of Horus and Drach'nyen gleaming evilly over the two girls. Like a slinking serpent, the Talon began tracing Pyrrha's cheek as the daemonic sword threateningly tickled Ruby's throat—

"Fuck! Okay," he said as he shook his head, backhanding himself to shut up his brain. "Okay, okay, that's enough. It's probably not Abaddon, It's probably not Khârn, it's... it's probably some secondary characters, some lesser champions not worth the Chaos Gods' time." He kept walking, continuing to talk to himself has he forced his mind to win down from its panic. "The Gods would not give up their favorite playthings so easily."

Jacob reached up and plugged his earbuds in, flipping through his music as he continued past the dormitory complex and towards the center courtyard. With a shake of his phone, he shuffled his music, hoping for something that would take his mind off the threat for a few minutes.

It was quiet for a few seconds before an audible blip rang out. Drums began to pound distantly, met with Slavic chanting.

He let out a sigh. "For once," he said to himself, "Sabaton might not be the best thing to listen to."

His stomach slowly stopped clenching, his palms began to sweat less, but the thoughts remained in the back of his head, even as Swedish Pagans tried to force them out. Unconsciously, his footfalls began to match the rhythm, keeping pace with the drums almost as if he were marching with it.

For three minutes he walked, passing the courtyard and closing in on the gardens as the light of the sun dimmed, sinking down over the edge of the sea with the moon beginning to ascend in the shadow of the CCT Tower. Eventually, the power metal ballad ended, leaving Jacob's ears ringing from the volume he had cranked it to. For his troubles, the music had rewarded him with the thoughts of Chaos running amok now gone and buried beneath the folds of his brain.

But even then, the echoes of those thoughts still remained in his imagination. It was enough that it still made him uneasy.

The concrete and cobblestone of the outside suddenly transitioned into tile as he passed through the auditorium on the path he had initially set to. The lights were still on in the overhead area, but the walkways were abandoned and quiet, bearing no one despite it being peak Professor-visiting hours. Jacob had already been here earlier today after class had ended, going in for his tutoring with Cain; The twinge of pain he felt on his hindquarters every so often was enough of a testament to the truth of how well it went.

There was a sound like a clang of metal, small at first. He noticed it but thought nothing of it, thinking it was maybe just someone dropping a metal pen or something across the way. Then it rang out again, followed in quick succession by a few more. Somebody was sparring.

A female voice let out a roar, and the sound like the shotgun from Halo firing off once, twice, thrice, four times. Yang.

Another, more composed war cry from a deeper female voice, followed by a clanging and the sharp sound of a blade. Pyrrha.

Jacob turned down one of the entry doors and stopped halfway through. A spar was going on.

At the moment he walked into visual range, Yang was flying high over Pyrrha, in the middle of some manner of twisting strike as Ember Celica blasted off a couple shots towards the ground. Pyrrha, by comparison, was crouched low, her spear held by the end as she brought it up in a wide cleaving blow meant to smack Yang back down to the ground. It missed Yang as she continued her vault, only for Pyrrha to keep up the momentum, whipping the spear in a wheel around her as she held Yang back. It succeeded, forcing Yang to somersault backwards to avoid the blades, only to right herself and go practically bananas with blasts from Celica. The shots bounced off of Akouo as Pyrrha ended the spinning blade's path and brought it back behind her, collapsing it back into a sword and leaping forwards into the blasts.

Yang leapt forwards too, the two colliding in mid-air, a shockwave and sound following the collision like Mjolnir meeting a vibranium shield, bell-ringing sound and all. The two skidded backwards, Yang clawing at the ground as she skidded to a halt while Pyrrha drew her sword and let it be her brakes.

"Come on, Yang! You can take her!"

"Go, Pyrrha! Kick her ass!"

Jacob's ears perked up at Ruby and Nora's voices. He almost jumped in his skin as he looked down towards the bleachers ahead of him, seeing both teams sitting beside one another, albeit with RWBY being short one cat Faunus.

Jacob grimaced. "She's getting lost in her hunt for Adam," he muttered to himself. "I'm the one who's supposed to be getting OCD about potential invasions here."

The fighting lasted for several minutes, the two going back and forth, neither truly getting a better blow on the other; Yang's Aura and Semblance would pump her up and give her an edge to her attacks, only for Pyrrha to just visibly bring her own Semblance to bear, maneuvering Yang's punches just off course enough to not look suspect.

They were damn-near evenly matched, and Jacob was enjoying every second of it.

Finally, Pyrrha seemed to gain an upper hand as she dropped in close, taking Celica's blasts at point blank. Pyrrha spun on the spot around the arm, Yang suddenly lurching forwards; Pyrrha had grabbed Yang's arm and was spinning her around, the blonde bombshell suddenly engulfed in a light haze of Pyrrha's Semblance. Without what seemed like no effort, she spun Yang around 360 degree or so and launched her forwards, Yang being forced to stumble forwards. Pyrrha spun and transformed Milo back into the rifle form, firing off two, three, four shots before spinning it and transforming it into its spear form. With a mighty heft, she launched the spear forwards, smacking Yang dead in the small of her back as she kept stumbling. The spear's impact was enough to send Yang nearly to the edge of the ring, only for Yang to catch herself and spin like a breakdancer, vaulting back upright. Even at a distance, Jacob could see that Yang was panting heavily, her shoulders sagging and her chest bobbing up and down with strained breaths.

"Okay then," she said through a strained breath and a chuckle, "Let's call that a draw."

Pyrrha let out a breathy laugh as she drew back the spear with her Semblance as if it were Mjolnir, the weapons transforming back into a rifle as she grabbed it and holstered it on her back. "Sounds good. I'm starting to get tired myself."

Yang laughed. "I'm not getting tired," she said, "I just wanted to end it before I whooped you and embarrassed you in front of Jaune." Jacob could see Yang wink from all the way where he was sitting at the moment, and he could say without doubt that she must have been onto Pyrrha's little crush by now.

This was all the more confirmed by Pyrrha's blush and her right hand scratching at the back of her head.

"Hey," Jaune called out jokily, as oblivious as ever, "she was about to beat you."

The group began laughing amongst themselves, though Weiss seemed to groan as Nora held out her hand and beckoned, answering the gesture by handing over several Lien.

Jacob sighed as he watched them, the two amazons on the sparring ring closing the distance between one another and shaking one another's hands with a gladiator handshake—they grabbed one another's arms in a firm embrace. Not a second later, they had drawn one another into a close hug, as if they were as much sisters as Yang and Ruby were already.

Jacob smirked in amusement as he felt his worries muffle themselves at the sight. For but a brief second, the world seemed right and all the troubles of this world were nothing more than pedantic details.

His Scroll buzzed at his hip. His brain put two and two together before he even needed to look down. Whoops.

He started on his feet and spent not a moment longer there, kicking himself for lingering and leaving Penny waiting. Even as their laughter faded with distance, he felt a mild rift in himself as he left, part of him wanting to stick around and hang out some. But he did tell Penny he would be along shortly, and to leave her hanging was something he wouldn't forgive himself for.

He shook his head of his imagined slights and continued onwards, the light outside continuing to dim as the sun set farther and farther in the west. Jacob continued to wander onwards, the cooled interiors of the building giving way to a hot summer evening as he exited the building. The laughter was gone now, and no murmurs to hear, though he could swear by his own ears that he though he heard footfalls from inside. He shook if off, thinking it was an echo of his own bouncing off of the walls inside.

---

During his traversals around Beacon Academy, he had of course learned of the main courtyard path that almost everyone was familiar with, leading directly from the CCT Tower towards the landing pads, which at the moment were occupied by Atlas soldiery still unloading. That path led out to the massive waterfall and cliffside that sported it—though it turned out there was a small ferry port at the base of the cliff that the people could use as a means of emergency escapes or for students to use. Jacob had actively called out Ozpin on how ridiculously inviting that was for any romantically-inclined students to make with a little hanky-panky on a romantic boat ride, but that was unimportant. However, he had instead gone opposite of that, headed westwards rather than eastwards and towards the city. The main path into the city was thinner and perhaps a bit less elaborate, feeling more like a scenic backway rather than a grand entrance to the campus grounds. It was here that he could find the gardens that he so often traversed.

He spotted her standing beside one of the small ponds that the gardens sported. She stood watching him, stiff and robotic at first before her silhouetted arm shot up, waving frantically to him. In the dim moonlight, her turquoise eyes shone brightly, almost as if they were luminescent themselves; Jacob had to wonder if her synthetic eyes sported full-on LED systems in some manner or another. Her smile was contagious as the plague, Jacob feeling a smile rise to his face as he closed in on her position.

Truth be told, by this point she was not quite close enough to be a tried-and-true friend yet, but he couldn't deny how much more comfortable he was around her. She knew the truth, now, after all; he could speak freely with her, perhaps even more so than he could with the Imperials. Hell, by now she was more familiar with his world than anyone else was, the two having spent an evening or two watching some of his movies on his moderately-sized phone screen. If he could have access to a television and a connecting chord, he might have been able to show her a movie on a proper screen rather than a screen the size of a small notepad. Hell, if he could get his hands on one of those larger Scrolls and figure out how and even if he could port them over, that would be a step in the right direction. But for now, this worked to what they needed.

"Salutations, Jacob," she said, drawing him into an ironclad hug that knocked the wind out of his lungs.

This was becoming routine between them, and even then, Jacob could never fully brace for that Herculean hug of hers. "Hey Penny," he said, the pain ebbing from his voice as she effortlessly lifted him in her grasp. "Sorry about the wait."

"Oh, that was quite alright," she said, her hug refusing to yield. "I spent the additional seven minutes, forty seconds and twenty-two nanoseconds contemplating what movie I wanted to see next, as well as what we might need to consider for our plans."

"At least you're more productive with your time than I ever am," Jacob commented, feeling his back start to ache from her hug. "Uh, Penny, remember what we talked about with regard to hugs."

"Oops," she said, letting him fall back to earth. He landed on his feet, his chest hurting as he tried to regain his breath. "I must confess that the emotion chip has really taken to my new experiences."

"Well," he said as he let out a small cough, "that's better than no emotion. So, first off, you mentioned something about our plans. What crossed your mind?"

"Actually, it's something that I thought of while I was watching the army's parade through Beacon," she said calmly. "With the change of the timeline in regards to the dance and by extension the application of Ms. Fall's virus, I considered possible avenues by which she could engage in uploading the virus, or by other means that she might be able to apply it to the network."

Jacob nodded in thought. "True, with the dance being post-Breach now, she won't have as much time for the virus to get into the overall CCT system. But I didn't think it would take that long, anyhow."

Penny shook her head. "It normally wouldn't, but I suggested to General Ironwood that we also consider cyber-attacks as well. He didn't expect something that aggressive, but he did make plans to install a new system into the CCT Network that reworks security protocols on a daily basis."

"Good, good," Jacob said. "That will make things difficult, but that could modify our timeline outright."

"Then there's... god news of a sort, at least for us. He won't be able to install it until at least the beginning of the Vytal Tournament, and that is supposed to be in four weeks' time now."

Jacob looked up. "They shifted it back a week."

She nodded. "Professor Ozpin wanted to avoid any delays, but the Council has begun deferring more to Ironwood."

"The suicide bombing," Jacob deduced. His ears started ringing a bit. "They're already thinking that Ozpin can't keep the Kingdom safe."

"If the Breach does occur as in the normal timeline," Penny said, "there is an 87.834% chance that full command of security of the Kingdom of Vale will be handed over to General Ironwood by the time of the Vytal Tournament."

"Plays right into Cinder's plans," he mused aloud.

"But into ours as well."

Jacob grimaced. "You're not wrong."

Penny blinked. "What's the matter? Wasn't this the original plan?"

Jacob brought his hands up defensively. "Well, yes, but don't think for a moment that by some degree we've damned some people to a premature end in favor of others surviving."

Penny sat in thought for a moment. "You... are right to some degree," she finally concluded with a frown. "I ran similar assessments earlier last week and had a similar thought, I admit. But I was able to rationalize that—at least in theory—the short-term casualties of such a battle would be more than compensated for the addition of Ms. Nikos' skill and combat prowess in defeating this Salem." She blinked, a sour look appearing on her face, as if she had swallowed a lemon whole. "Actually, hearing that aloud feels... what is the word for 'emotionally numb or distant?'"

"Callous? Manipulative? Psychopathic? Take your pick," Jacob replied. "Trust me, when the thought has occurred to me, I called myself the same thing."

Penny looked at him with a look he had seen several times before, the same look that an old friend of family member would give him when he would have an episode of verbal self-flagellation. Worry mixed with refusal to accept what he had said. "It... it might be perhaps a bit callous of a decision," she said aloud to him. "But maybe only to someone on the outside. You're making all of these decisions to save Ms. Nikos, to save me and Ruby's sister as well. By Valean philosophy, that is a brave and heroic thing to do."

Jacob sighed, turning away and staring off towards Beacon Tower. "Depends on who remains alive at the end of this all. If I fuck up, this will be all for naught."

Silence for a solid minute as he let his mind wander. The shadowy thoughts creeped up on him again, the Talon's sharp gaze tracing scarlet red hair.

"That's not even considering the Eightfold Path and what they might try."

He felt a warm hand on his shoulder. He turned and found himself gazing into innocent seas of turquoise.

"I think you will succeed," she said with a weak smile. "You already have a leg up on them; you have let me know of what is supposed to be my demise. I've already begun setting up contingents to protect and back up my memory data and I've been offering suggestions to General Ironwood on where to place troops to avoid casualties from compromised Knights should Ms. Fall's virus successfully upload."

Jacob nodded with a sigh. "Good, good," he said, "Like I said before, you're steps ahead of me."

"And yet you've acted preemptively by inciting a group of experienced Huntsmen and war veterans to our cause, most of them having some manner of relationship to Ms. Nikos."

Jacob sighed. "I guess you're right, to some extent. Hell, even if I can't save her, they have a far better chance of it."

"That's the spirit," Penny said, then smiling a toothy, eyes-closed smile, one that ebbed through his own body with ease, alighting his heart with an air of peace to it.

He didn't stop the smile from being returned. "Bah, enough of that for now," he said, "I'm being a sourpuss again. Come on, let's watch a movie; any in particular you wanted to see?"

Penny brought a hand up to her chin as she tapped her index finger on it, letting out an audible hum. "I do want to see the next movie in the Star Wars series," she started, "but I was interested in that... Jurassic Park movie we discussed."

Jacob didn't stop a mild bark of a laugh. "My favorite movie," he said, "and the reason I was obsessed with dinosaurs." He stopped midway through his next thought before he even finished his sentence, though, as something crossed his mind. "Considering you were able to hook into my phone, why didn't you download the movies on my phone as well?"

Penny blinked before she scratched the back of her head. "I, uh, I couldn't download them all without having to take the phone from your possession, or keep hidden and risk making General Ironwood angry."

She hiccupped. He shot her a raised brow.

She smiled meekly. "And also... I thought it would be more human for me to see it as normal humans do than as a robot girl would; downloading it like a file."

Jacob couldn't lie to himself about how sweet a notion that was. Every second he watched her, he didn't see a robot girl seeing the world through LED eyes, but rather a young girl made of unconventional stuff and a wide-eyed curiosity to this thing that everyone called the 'human experience.' "Penny," he said, "That's sweet enough to give me diabetes. You might make this young man cry like a baby if you're not careful."

She giggled. "Well, what other options are there?"

"Well, you mentioned The Last Samurai, that's a fun movie; incorrect as hell, but still fun. There's Empire Strikes Back as well if you want to continue on Star Wars. There's Disney movies, I have the first four Die Hard movies, I got almost all of the Marvel Comics films before I left—shame I'm gonna miss Infinity War—as well as the first two films of the Dark Knight Trilogy." He began flipping through his phone's video library, watching the movie posters fly by. "Lord of the Rings Trilogy, some of the big horror films like Halloween, Nightmare on Elm Street, Friday the 13th—"

"So, there's where you went sneaking off to!"

If Jacob had any stronger legs, his jump of surprise might have cleared a meter or more. Penny's was more of a flinch of surprise, but both did turn about to see who was the offender.

Yang was standing at the base of the small hill, hiding in the shadow of a tall rose bush with her arms crossed and a smug look of satisfaction across her face. Beside her stood Ruby, her arms crossed as well but a face that melded worry with ire. Ire of not being told something, and fear of Penny being discovered.

Jacob, on the other hand, was probably paling as far as he was concerned. His heart was hammering in his chest as he saw the two half-sisters standing there, watching them. How long had they been there? Had they heard the whole thing? Had they heard about their plan? About his world? The Imperials?

Five more figures rounded the corner, and Jacob's heart skipped a terrified beat. Weiss was watching them with a critical eye as she came up on Ruby's left side, sandwiching herself between the siblings. Following behind her was JNPR, each sporting a different look; Ren wore a contemplative look, as usual, opposite of Nora's giddy, almost coy smile as she rested her hands on her hips with a sassy poise to her gait. Jaune had no look on his face, but his eyes spoke of curiosity that was dancing around his mind. Pyrrha, however, seemed to approach a bit closer to them, a genuine smile on her face as her emerald eyes sparkled alongside Jaune's sapphire blue eyes.

"Uh... h-hey guys," Jacob said, his stomach threatening to rebel in panic.

"Oh, uhm... Salutations, Ruby," Penny said beside him. "I am surprised to see you out here at this hour."

"The same could be said of you guys," Yang said with a laugh. "Out for a midnight treat... uh, treaty—no, wait, that's not the word..."

There was silence as everyone watched Yang for a second as she tried to come up with the right word. Jacob didn't need that much time to figure it out; he already knew the word.

"Ohhh," Penny said eventually, "you mean a tryst, correct?"

"Uh, right, right, that's the word! You two were-"

"NO, Yang," Jacob said with a roll of his eyes, "We are not romantics. We were just going to... well—"

"We heard you guys talking about movies," Ruby said aloud. "Have you guys been going out and watching movies in secret?"

Jacob turned to look at Penny, knowing full well that they shared a look of slight panic. "Uhh... yeah," he said quickly. "Some movies from my part of the world. They're, uh... they're pretty high quality, all things considered. But I don't know if you guys would like them or not."

Penny shot him a look that said 'Oh God, you may have doomed us.'

"I don't know," Yang said, "Your kind of movies sound like my kind of movie if you are anything to go off of. Besides, you guys seemed kinda lonely... and I've never actually gotten a chance to talk with you, Penny."

It was at that moment that Jacob noted something spark in Penny's eyes. It was not unlike the same liveliness he had seen in her eyes mere moments ago, albeit tinged with something very human. That same thing that he saw in a lot of people when something they coveted came into view. That same thing that he himself knew all too well when he caught an eyeful of a new model.

Desire. Human desire. Desire for friends, in this particular instance.

The writing was on the wall before he even let out a breath.

"I... your assessment is not incorrect, Ms. Xiao Long. And I have been wanting to properly interact with you all."

Jacob swallowed. "Maybe a movie won't be a good idea, all things considered."

"Yeah," Yang replied, "I don't think we're all going to be able to squeeze around that little screen for a movie. Granted, I'm sure the guys could squeeze in behind—"

Jacob didn't intend on it, but he and Weiss both cried in unison, "Don't you dare finish that sentence, Yang Xiao Long."

Yang only shrugged and smiled as Nora started giggling.

"Well," Jacob said, "A movie might be out for the moment, but I don't think it's a bad night for... I don't know, stargazing or something?"

Pyrrha seemed to ponder that. "The light from the city might be a bit too much to see anything dimmer than The Shrouded Angel and the First Huntsman," she said as she looked up into the sky. "Perhaps another night. But the movie might not be a bad idea, albeit we might be able to see any of your's, Jacob."

"Hey," Yang said as she raised a lone finger in thought, "I don't think Jacob has seen anything from Vinewood, now that I think more about it!"

Jacob blanched. "Huh?"

Yang turned to look at him. "In the last five months I haven't heard you once make a reference to a movie out of Vinewood, and you always struck me as the kind of guy to make movie references."

"Hey," Jaune said, "I'm sure he's seen a few. You saw Spruce Willis' Tough to Kill, right?"

Jacob twitched at that combination of words. It was too close to what he and half of the American people called the greatest Christmas movie to ever exist, and that didn't sit well with his movie buff side. "Uh... no, I haven't," he said, the 'no' getting drawn out on a long syllable.

Jaune leapt back with a wild look on his face. "What!? What about High Noon at Kuroyama!?"

Jacob shook his head. That one sounded like nothing he had ever heard of before.

"The Bastion?"

"That's a hard no."

Now Weiss stepped forwards. "You must have seen at least Daring to Dream?"

Again, a headshake of 'no'.

"Mourning Star," asked Ren.

Headshake.

Nora practically leapt forwards into his face. "Gilly O'Greene and the Magicians Five? For the love of all that is holy in this world," Nora said, begging on her hands and knees, "please tell me you've seen that classic children's movie."

"You didn't have a childhood if you didn't see that," added Jaune with a concerned tone.

Jacob cringed at their reaction and what it would be with his answer. "Sorry. Nada there."

Nora's look of shock and horror belonged in an old Sunday funnies column from Jacob's perspective, her pupils gone and her eyes and mouth so wide you'd expect a bird to fly out of the latter and hypnosis wheels to form in the former. Volume 2 animation just kept making things difficult for him to take these kinds of things seriously, and he almost broke out in giggles. "You poor, tortured soul! What kind of parents didn't take you to see that!?"

Parents who raised me on Disney movies and Star Wars primarily, Jacob thought to himself. Instead, he replied, "We had our own movies in my neck of the woods. One of these days I'll need to show you guys them... but I think tonight is your night to show me something new."

The teenaged Huntsmen and Huntresses all began wearing a smile of some form or another, as various as they were. Nora's exuberant, toothy smile tinged with urgency, Ruby's grin of innocent joy and revelation, Pyrrha's sweet bemused smile that melded with Jaune's as they stood side by side, Weiss' smug smirk laced with the tiniest hint of ire, Yang's chuckle-induced grin; all of them formed the spectrum the singular word that permeated them all: happiness.

Jacob didn't even hesitate to return the gesture, giving them a hesitant but genuine smile. "So... put it to a vote?"

"Gilly O'Greene," cried out Jaune and Nora in unison.

"I'd vouch for The Bastion," said Pyrrha. "Historical dramas are always a fun subject, and the battle sequences nearly match up with the actual battle in the Great War."

Weiss let out a contempted huff. "War movies. Honestly, Pyrrha, I thought you would suggest something more akin to Ten Daughters for Ten Fathers or The Amazon in Love."

"Oh, yes, Ten Daughters is a good one, a fun musical. Considering your love of music, perhaps that might be in your range of tastes?"

Before Jacob could react to the one that sported a similar name to Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, Yang stepped in the way. "Oh, hell no," she said with a laugh. "My man Jacob here's not some estrogen-filled lady like us, right? He's all testosterone, needs something to get the blood boiling. I vote for Tough to Kill, or—or, better yet, The First Huntsman!"

The group continued to bicker for a bit, leaving Jacob to back up beside Penny a few feet back from the group. He turned and looked at her and muttered lowly, "Well, that's some cover saved, for the moment at least."

She nodded quietly, eyeing them all. "Ms. Xiao Long said she wanted to get to know be better, just like you and Ruby did. Do you... think that—"

"Penny," Jacob said in a mutter as he watched her face rather than them. "I mean... technically they don't know about you until the Vytal Tournament, and even then it's only after—"

"But what if they knew ahead of time?"

Jacob felt his mind go on metaphorical Yellow Alert. "Penny," he said with sarcastic sweetness, "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Perhaps we can play this to our advantage—"

"And what happens if this backfires in our faces? If we act too early or too quickly, we will be—"

She hurriedly shushed him, much to his ire; he knew full well that he was going to need to censor himself. But her eyes, he started to notice, were somewhere else so to speak. They were distant and perhaps a smidge vacant, as if her consciousness had gone elsewhere. He didn't hesitate to shoot her a brow-furrowed look, even though he was fairly certain she wouldn't react to anything he did at the moment.

"Uh, Penny," he heard Ruby say, "are you okay?" He turned and was met with Ruby standing feet from him, giving her a confused and slightly worried look.

After a few seconds, Penny blinked and shook her head as if she were recovering from a blow to the skull. "Oh, my apologies, Ruby," she said, "I was just... considering something."

Jacob felt the sweat wanting to leave his pores again. It didn't help that her gaze kept falling back and forth between Ruby and Jacob both.

Behind them, the rest of RWBY and JNPR sat in confusion. "Is everything alright," asked Jaune.

"Oh, yes, Mr. Arc," Penny replied. "I just..."

"Penny," Ruby asked, this time a little more firmly. "What is it?"

Penny seemed to let the words hang in her throat. "You promised to keep it a secret, both you and Jacob, right? Well... I think we can expand that bubble of people we can trust, right?"

Ruby's eyes widened slightly at that remark, and Jacob could see the wheels in her head go from resting to 100 miles per hour "Penny," she began urgently, "Are you sure you want to do that?"

Penny smiled and gave her a simple nod. "I'm not worried. I'm in the company of good friends, even with how short we've known each other."

Jacob turned his head and found himself locking eyes with Ruby, both unsure though Jacob knew for all different kinds of reasons.

"Are you guys in on something without us," Yang asked from the main body of the group. Jacob turned as Yang's eyes trained on him. "What's going on?"

Jacob stammered at first in his attempt to answer Yang. What could he say that wasn't absolutely batshit to them? What could he do to prove it to them and declare it to them in one fell swoop?

And then it hit him. Her hands, damaged by the impact of the truck all those weeks ago—practically a month or more ago by now.

"Penny," he called out. "Should we give them a demonstration so we don't have to go through the normal song and dance of most movies?"

Penny didn't seem to understand the last part of his sentence, but she did understand what he meant by 'a demonstration'. She nodded and then asked him one thing that in the real world would have him calling up the nice young men in their clean white coats for a run to the funny farm.

"Jacob," she said, "can you hand me your stiletto knife for just a minute? I need to make an incision into my hand to show them properly."

Jacob didn't need to look backwards to know that most of them were sporting some kind of confused or shocked look. He sighed, reaching into his pocket before handing it over to him. "For the record," he replied, "even knowing the real deal stuff isn't enough to make this any less uncomfortable for me."

Penny nodded. "I'll make sure to make the incision clean and quick. And besides," she added as she took the knife slowly, only to spin it and reveal the blade, positioning it a quarter-inch or more above her fake epidermis. "I don't bleed anything except hydraulic fluids and oxygen receptions."

"Whoa, whoa," he heard Yang say, "What's going on? Penny, you're kinda scaring us, can you please put down—"

The knife went into her epidermis with an audible sound. Yang and Weiss both made a sound, Yang's being a cry of surprise mixed with a scream of 'oh shit' while Weiss' was a shocked scream mixed with terror.

Penny wasted no time, pulling the blade up past her facsimile of a knuckle and over her middle finger, slicing through the fake skin like a hot knife through butter. No look of pain crossed her face, though Jacob presumed that her internal sensors were probably losing their minds at the moment.

"What in the name of The Allfather, Penny," Nora called out with a tone of shock, her work already completed as Nora continued freaking out. She handed the knife back to Jacob without either of them so much as blanching at what she had done, while all of RW_Y and JNPR—that included a very perturbed-looking Ruby—were freaking out in some form or another.

Penny didn't hesitate to look up at them. "What," she asked, "It doesn't hurt me. Nothing really hurts me." As she said that, she peeled away the fake skin, the rising moonlight dancing across a metal plate beneath and bouncing back into Jacob's eye with a glint.

Jacob blinked as his eyes were dazzled. "I am so surprised how little this actually phases me," he said nonchalantly. "Then again... she isn't actually... well, human."

To emphasize his point, she raised her outstretched hand up to her side in a statue's wave. The hand was a very simple and yet advanced design now that he saw it, just around the middle point of the uncanny valley spectrum, close enough to humanoid to feel familiar, yet sporting the blocky, angular, green-glowing circuitry-veins of a computer ingrained into the silvery metal that made up her endoskeleton. Despite the circuits, the basic form of her hand was still lithe and somewhat graceful, almost dainty as far as he was concerned. In the few remains of the sunlight and the waxing moonlight, it seemed to glow an ethereal silver to him, as if it belonged to a ghost. He felt like if he tried to hold it now, the hand would crumple like a soda can by his mere grip, even though his brain kept reminding him of her ironclad grip. It was, in his mind, beyond what he had expected.

He blinked and turned his gaze to the teens. If he had any less emotional constitution, he would have busted out laughing at the looks on their faces. Ruby alone wore a look that seemed only mildly worried, though Jacob could assume that it was out of fear of the rest's reactions. Appropriately, they in turn wore one unified look on their faces: Wide eyes, jaws dropped, looking as if taken aback by this. Jaune and Ren were looking back and forth between Jacob himself and Penny, while Weiss and Pyrrha seemed to almost lean in closer, as if Penny was now a curiosity to study. Yang, by contrast, stood limply beside Nora, the two looking like marionettes with their strings cut as they teetered on their feet. Out of them came the silence of confusion, as if the part of their brains that controlled their larynxes were performing a hard reboot.

Crickets chirped their melodies as the silence went on. A robot girl, a group of stunned teenagers, a man from another world. An answer to all of the riddles, Jacob thought to himself. The silence lasted a good, long 10 seconds.

"Sooo... Uh," Yang eventually began, "When were you guys gonna tell us about this?"

Jacob blinked and turned to Penny, the girl offering her own blink of confusion. He didn't even know why, but a small laugh rose in his throat as he let her question hang in the air. Penny soon followed with her own.

They may not have needed to know everything about to happen at this point... but maybe a little bit of information never hurt anybody.

The crickets chirped and they giggled. And something just felt right about it all.

---

A mug slammed down on the table, a few drops of coffee roiling and spilling out over the side and onto the faux wooden table. The white ceramic mug was already staining from the drink's presence, the sloshes and drips on it leaving small lines of coffee stains on its sides and within. A large stain sliced the Beacon Academy logo in twain.

"James, you can't be serious..."

"I am very serious about this, Ozpin. More serious than you realize."

The warm light of the room began feeling less and less comforting as he watched the two Headmasters argue. With the marble and tan cast in the dim yellow and red glow, it was starting to remind him of a battlefield from a very long time ago; one he had thought would remain buried in the past.

He turned and locked gazes with Vulkan. The Salamander was sharing his look of apprehension.

Ozpin sighed from the front of the table. "The Vytal Festival hasn't even begun properly, and yet you intend on boosting security across the entire city? You understand how people will feel about this, right?"

"In the wake of the White Fang attack, people are already showing signs of concern for public safety," James replied as he tightened his hand into a resolute fist. "You knew the moment we spoke to one another after the attack that I would increase Atlas' presence for the Festival."

"And yet you've marched an entire army into the city," replied Glynda, "and—as long as I heard you correctly—just requested a curfew for the city to the Council!"

"Glynda, we cannot afford to let any more security breaches occur, and we cannot assume that a suicide bombing is the most they can manifest against us."

"This isn't protecting against terrorist attacks! This is expecting Salem's Grimm army to come knocking on our door, and you know it!"

"We cannot take any chances, Glynda! Grimm activity has increased exponentially in the border towns over the last five days.."

Titus massaged his brow with his thumb and index finger. This is getting nowhere.

They all sat in the Beacon Initiation Room, sitting at a table that was designed to be hidden away beneath the center platform for initiations and other ceremonies. It was a massive table in all honesty, a solid six feet across at its head and base, and some 20 feet long on the sides. Currently, the table sported nothing more than mugs of various drinks, ranging from Earl Grey tea to coffee to just plain cold water for some. Around the table sat all of the members of the Inquisition currently present in Vale, including all of the Imperials within its borders at the moment. Most were already wearing bags under their eyes from the long days as auxiliary professors at Beacon, thought at the moment all were wide-eyed and at attention for this meeting of the Inner Circle of the Inquisition.

Titus had vouched for Jacob to miss this meeting, declaring that he and Mira would give him the full report when next they could speak to him in private. Considering the training he was doing with Cain on top of the schoolwork and other things to keep up appearances, Titus didn't expect he would make this meeting anyhow.

A fist slammed onto the table, rattling everything atop it. The sound it made echoed through the room, the golden sigil of the Inquisition seeming to reverberate with the echo.

"Alright," shouted Logan with the last few vestiges of his Fenrisian accent, "That's enough out of the both of you!"

Both turned to look at him with a small look of shock. Titus followed suit, noticing that the Great Wolf was now risen to his full height. By all accounts he was older than everyone present besides Ozpin, not accounting for his days as a son of Leman Russ. He wore his authority in his Aura, but it was rare for him to bring it to bear these days; when he did, however, even Titus couldn't deny that the air seemed heavier, and the temperature would noticeably drop, as if an essence of Fenris itself had followed him to Remnant.

Titus felt a chill down his back. He couldn't tell if that was from a drop in the temperature or from Logan's raw presence.

"This bickering is pointless," he said with a low tone, "but it does bring up a good point on both ends. We cannot expect that the White Fang will only stop at these simple but destructive means, but this does not give us the excuse to run rampant with enough soldiers to have a ten-mile long parade."

Ironwood stood up and began to speak. "But—"

"But nothing," said Vulkan, standing up as well from his seat with the effort of one who had been sitting for too long. "Too little a defensive force and we risk another attack. Too much and the people begin fearing something else is approaching."

"And we all know what is attracted to fear," added Ozpin.

"Exactly," said Logan. "A self-fulfilling prophecy if ever I saw one."

Titus shifted slightly in his chair, flexing his hand in desire to reach out for Mira's hand beside him. He didn't deny that the two parties were correct in their concerns, considering how much this was all escalating; but there was the fact that they were trying to maintain to the timeline that Jacob had presented to them. Too much security meant Salem would no doubt do exactly that; return with a larger army and potentially put all of the city in even greater danger, and the lives of both Pyrrha and her friends in even greater danger on top of that.

But that put innocent lives on the metaphorical chopping block.

Titus shifted again as the thoughts raced through his mind. Even without the geneseeds of a Space Marine, the scion of Guilliman always had his mind around two steps ahead of the curve, even if he actively went against those assessments or followed through with them.

There was a sigh from Logan that seemed to speak on all of their behalves. "We should discuss this later," he added as he drew himself back down, sitting and returning to the way he was earlier. "For now, however, we should discuss James' report from the outlying territories. I presume you've found something of note?"

Ironwood nodded, readjusting his tie as he cleared his throat. "Thank you for talking us down out of that argument, Logan. And yes, my scouting corps have identified activity in several key sectors around the city." Reaching into his jacket, he produced his Scroll and began to type in the necessary commands. A second later, the table lit up, the wood being replaced with a holoscreen. Without a moment to spare, the grid was covered with traced lines following the paths of roads, city districts, even the small rivers that split Vale apart and emptied into the bay. As the horizontal layout finished constructing, the city itself began to rise from the table, the small structures of the Residential District eclipsed by the towering form of Beacon in the east and the various factories, office buildings and more of the Industrial District in the west. Even the northern region known as The Peak was manifested, the tall hill it sat upon rising and then lulling back into the beaches that lined the bay, and in the south the tiny townships of Redhearth, Green River and Bounty Bay blended into the edges of Vale proper, vaguely forming the Agricultural District of the Kingdom.

In a matter of seconds, what had once been a faux-wooden table in the Inquisition's meeting room had become no different from the many holo-tables found on Imperial vessels and bases.

Titus felt a shift in the world, as if things had changed around him. He had become accustomed to the technology of Remnant years ago, but for a brief second, between the lingering threat of Chaos, being around so many Imperial brethren, and under the eye of a facsimile to such a cornerstone of the Imperium... he couldn't help but feel the strongest sense of déjà vu. A memory from another lifetime, standing with his brethren on the command deck of a Strike Cruiser as they prepared to descend to an enemy stronghold somewhere in the vast, maddening Galaxy he and the rest once called home.

He shook his head, the phantoms of Ultramar triumphant fading from his perceptions. In the back of his mind, he couldn't help but point out to himself that he hadn't felt such a strong moment of déjà vu since he was enrolled at Beacon in the first place.

He looked around. A few of the others had the distance of memories resurfacing in their eyes. Old instincts kicking in for the first time in years, despite their no-doubt regular use of holo-tech like this. It was not unlike watching Dreadnoughts wink to life from their slumber.

Titus felt Mira's hand caress his own, seeking his. He did not hesitate to take it.

"For the last four days, I have sent out scouting forces around the city of Vale in an attempt to locate some manner of pattern to the activity of White Fang activists," Ironwood declared, a notable edge of concentration to his voice. "So far, we have unfortunately turned up very little in regards to patterns of activity." He pressed a button on his Scroll, and the city lit up with a couple dozen red dots, each one no doubt detailing an encounter with a member of the White Fang, or a piece of their propaganda flyers or anything really. But James was right in his assessment: no immediate patterns could be deciphered.

The table was silent as most studied the board with outwardly-presented interest. Titus, however, knew full well that the same thoughts were bouncing about his mind as the Imperials.

"This is only White Fang activity," Cain said as he leaned in from his seat, his eyes darting between the dots.

James nodded.

"Did you add in activity from any gangs working within the city?"

The glimmer of tactical prowess in James' eyes dissipated. "WE have heard very little from the likes of Roman Torchwick's gang over the last few weeks, and the Vale Metropolitan Police Department has indicated a sharp drop in activity from his group."

"And yet you still haven't considered any of their activity."

Ironwood's jaw clenched. With a few taps of his Scroll again more dots manifested, this time cast in the orange of Torchwick's symbol. Again, not a fully discernable pattern, but there was the vestiges of one hidden somewhere beneath it all.

The whole of the Inquisition seemed to lean in closer. Titus even noted Ironwood starting to put the pieces together.

Titus looked up from the map, a thought bouncing through his head. "What about activity from the Eightfold Path?"

Ironwood met his gaze. "Also scattered," he said, "But they've been all over the place with their severity: graffiti of the Eight-Pointed Star, basic vandalism, some petty thefts of Dust stores and a few other locations... and then..."

"Murders. They've been murdering people in the streets," deduced Gabriel from his seat on the far edge. "And I presume other things as well."

James' face turned dark and grim. "Assaults have increased the last few weeks," he replied. "Of both physical and sexual varieties. Muggings have turned lethal and people are beginning to be hospitalized with far more frequency."

Glynda and Ozpin shared a look of shock before turning to Ironwood. "The string of murders has been at their hand, then? How do we know this?"

Ironwood sighed. "Besides the ritualistic manner they were killed in," he said quietly, "They all seem to have been branded with the same Eight-Pointed Star as has been found in the grafitti. Morticians have indicated they were applied pre-mortem, more than likely just before the victims died."

The Imperials all seemed to tense up. "That is their modus operandi," commented Titus, "without a doubt."

"And the assaults," asked Darnath. "What of them?"

"Victims have indicated many of the individuals that have attacked them have performed either ritualistic scarring or self-branding of marks found in the Eightfold Path. The Star again, The Skull, the Flame, the Boils, so on and so forth. The sexual predators have reportedly borne the Claw marking we have seen in some places in Atlas and Mistral, at least by comparison to victim reports."

Darnath and Luce seemed to lean closer together. Titus and Mira weren't far behind on that action.

"Add it to the map," commented Vulkan quietly. "Add them all."

James looked to the Salamander, a questioning look in his eyes. Vulkan only nodded.

The map lit up with even more. Dozens of spots across the city lit up in gold markings. A few pock marks in the Peak, some near Beacon and the Commercial District, a few along the Wharf District.

The Industrial District lit up as if it had been struck by a shotgun blast at medium range. There was no concentration to their activity in particular, but it was a lot more than in most other parts of the city. Titus was already running the numbers in his head.

And then the Agricultural District lit up like the sun.

It was like looking at a shotgun blast that had gone off at the same time as a frag grenade. Dozens upon dozens of them in the southern vestiges of the city, each one something tied to the Eightfold Path. Murders, brandings, rapes, muggings, all of them in some form or another. They were packed along the fringes of the District, where the city ended and the mountains began, where the Grimm lived wild and hungry. The farther east it went, the more packed together and numerous the reports were, until the border of Redhearth was a solid block of gold light.

"There's your pattern," said Cain morosely but matter-of-factly. "They seem to have a particular favor for Redhearth."

"They're striking from the southeast," deduced Ozpin. "Interesting. That would indicate either they have set up shop in Redhearth itself... or perhaps beyond the Kingdom's borders proper."

Most of the Imperials were already aware of the truth thanks to Jacob's story those three weeks ago. Vulkan visibly tensed up.

"I can order a flyby of the region to scout them out and launch an immediate assault if we detect any semblance of their presence along the borders," replied Ironwood.

"Oh no," Glynda said warningly, "We are not going in guns blazing."

"I agree with Glynda on this one," Ozpin replied. "They would scatter no better than bugs exposed to overhead lights the second they spotted our ships overhead. We must be subtle in our advances."

Ironwood glowered at Ozpin. "And if we don't engage now, they are given more and more time to build up their forces should they be planning for another attack. Ozpin, we don't have the luxury of time."

"No," Titus replied, standing up. "James is right and wrong in this instance. We cannot afford to wait for much longer, lest we open the city to the potential for an attack. But to go in with the bravado of Great War generals would scatter them only temporary; they would return, and we would look the fools. But perhaps we can force their hand as well as play them right into our own."

"Titus," replied Ozpin, "I take it you have clued in on the current investigations by Team RWBY and JNPR, then?"

The former Ultramarine blinked in surprise. "You never let anything slip past you, Ozpin. Yes," he admitted. "Over the last few months, Mr. Muller, Team RWBY and Team JNPR have been—as a side project to their Huntsman training and other such things—doing their own investigations into the White Fang and the rest of them, hence the incident with the stolen Paladin. The bombing attack was performed on us as we were collaborating with him on what information we knew at the time. They are nearly as embroiled in this as we are."

The room was silent for a few seconds. Glynda let a sigh escape her lips. "That would explain a lot," she said in exasperation.

"Ms. Belladonna's ties to the White Fang are catching up with her," Ozpin assessed. "Even though she kept her privacy, she surely must have expected that her father's name would be common knowledge even here in Vale."

"No one seems to bug her about it," Titus replied. "I would choose to believe they are being wiser than to be immediately judgmental. Either that, or they believe that there are more families with the name Belladonna than just hers."

"Remember, the bow," Vulkan said as an aside, pointing to the crown of his bald head. "Hides her Faunus cat ears."

Logan let out a huff at the mention. Titus had a good idea why that was.

"Why didn't you tell me that there was a member of the White Fang here at Beacon," Ironwood said, a mild tone of incredulity to his voice. "No less the daughter of Ghira Belladonna? She is a potential threat to the school—"

Ozpin held up a hand as he forcefully replied, "She is a student of Beacon Academy and a former member of the White Fang," he replied. "She has vocally opposed the White Fang on multiple occasions and actively fought them in the incident at the docks since she has begun attending Beacon Academy. Now, does the threat of her relapsing into their hands exist? Of course, there is a possibility of anything. But the probability is negligible at best."

"Anyway," Logan said, trying to get everyone back on track. "Team JNPR, being their sister-team and also sporting ties to Jacob, they have also become a part of this matter. They have been focused on their own matters, but Jacob has actively mentioned to us that they are ready to strike when RWBY is ready."

"What is it you are suggesting exactly, Logan," Ironwood asked.

"Quite simple, James," replied Ozpin. "Consider that we are sending the students off on their first missions in three days from today. You're a general, so tell me; when you prepare to go to war, which do you send in first: the flag bearer, or the scouts?"

Ironwood seemed physically struck by the mere suggestion. "Ozpin," he said with quiet sternness, "what you're suggesting puts all of them in serious danger. Forgive me, but I have my doubts that this is a good idea."

"I cannot deny the danger it poses to both teams, or to Jacob for that matter," Ozpin replied calmly. "But they will be shadowing veteran Huntsmen while out there. On top of that, the current options presented would put them under the direct care of Bartholomew—"

"Oobleck!? Ozpin, with all due respect, I couldn't trust Bart to keep a padlock safe, much less two teams of Huntsmen-in-training."

Titus and Mira turned their gazes to one another. He was more right than he knew; for as diligent and attentive as he was, Bartholomew Oobleck had a horrible habit of missing things when he was wrapped up in other things. Someone else would be needed to keep the two teams safe.

Titus stood up, Mira making the same move in unison with him. "We could also help," Mira said aloud. "Having another two senior Huntsmen on board could make certain that our efforts are not in vain and they remain safe."

"Mira," Glynda said quietly, the look in her eyes already speaking volumes of how much she could read her former partner. "Ms. Nikos doesn't need the smothering of her godparents for this mission. I know that you have an obligation to her, but—"

"No," replied Mira, perhaps a bit too forcefully to remain inconspicuous. Her maternal instinct was kicking back in; they would need to make sure to call and see how Kaleb was after this meeting was over.

She cleared her throat and began to stand at attention, some holdover from her days as an Imperial Guardswoman. "N-no, it's not that. Or perhaps there is a bit of that. But just as well, Jacob is also at the most ease with us, if I may be so bold to suggest; if he shows too much nervousness in the process of this plan, he might become conspicuous and make concealing our efforts difficult."

"This I can agree with them on," replied Vulkan. "Titus and Mira seem to put him at almost as much ease as I do. And considering everything, I am of no help out there."

"Agreed," Ozpin replied. "Very well, I believe that sums up our concerns and our decisions. We have another few days before the first missions begin, and we should allow Titus and Mira to make their own preparations as well as be ready should they need to call upon us." The headmaster of Beacon rose from his chair, straightening the collar of his green turtleneck beneath his long-sleeved, v-neck vest. "Anything else to discuss?"

Silence held sway in the room.

"Very well. This meeting of the Inquisition is adjourned. Now, I believe it's gotten quite late," Opin said, looking down at the watch that he concealed beneath his vest sleeve. "As a matter of fact, it's closing on on 11:00. We should all probably turn in for the night."

Gabriel and Vulkan rose without a word as Logan stood up and stretched, a great howl of a yawn leaving his throat. "Admittedly, I was already thinking two steps ahead of you, Ozpin. I'll see you all in the morning."

Titus nodded without a word. Even if he tried, he would have a hard time sleeping tonight. His mind was already thinking ahead to what Jacob had said about this mission in particular, and what it meant for the city. If what he had told was to come true, deviations in the circumstances now aside, the city would find itself under attack in a few days. Now, Pyrrha would be a part of the force that would become tasked with stopping it. He knew his goddaughter well, and she would push herself to her extreme limit if it meant doing what's right.

Suddenly, that looming threat on her life felt very real.

He felt another hand caress his own. He didn't need to look over to know Mira's touch by now, his mind remembering all of the soft spots pocked amidst the calluses of Huntsman life. It pained him in some way that both of them sported none of the scars or calluses or other markings of their time in service to The Emperor and the Imperium; to him, it always felt as though a part of him had been left behind, never to be shared again with anyone. The only major scars he and the others sported were from their time here on Remnant, though some were given a fresh wound over a familiar location.

He looked over to her and was met with her brown eyes, now long-stripped of the deep violet so famed of Cadian eyes. They didn't even need to say a word to know that they were thinking the same thing in their minds:

Who's going to tell them the news when they arrive?

---

Well, that all happened. The timeline is sure to see some long-lasting consequences to the revelations and plans put into place this chapter, right? Right? RIGHT?

...*cough*...

Yeah, sorta-kinda. How so? Stay tuned for the next chapter, where Jacob is filled in on the Inquisition's plans, Penny becomes best buddies with Pyrrha and Ruby, Yang confronts Blake, and Vulkan and Logan sit down for a few hours with the Blu-Ray of Volumes 2 and 3 to assess the collateral damage from Jacob's boondoggles in the background somewhere.

...Oh yeah, Volume 6 is happening now. Episode 1 was good and fun, but I'm kinda miffed they got split up yet again. Who knows how this will go in the future.

Also, Spoilers for Episode 2:

WHY IS THERE A [REDACTED] IN RWBY NOW?! SALEM IS A [REDACTED]!? HOW THE HELL AM I GONNA MAKE THAT WORK FOR MY STORY!?

Anyways, as always I ask for reviews on this rigamarole to see how well I'm doing writing this thing, and by God am I gonna do the same here. Any reviews, favorites, follows, all of that stuff are encouraged and appreciated as it tells me if I'm doing a good job at making this story worth both my time and your time.

Anyways again, I hope you've enjoyed this chapter and I will see you all in December. Happy Belated Halloween and Happy Thanksgiving! Buh-Bye~!