19

Two days later, Geralt watched his students file in at seven in the morning as usual. Ruby winced slightly as she descended the steps to her seat. Geralt immediately knew she was at the front of her team so they wouldn't see. It must have been a difficult night, but she was doing her level best not to favor her prosthetic.

The class quickly seated themselves and quieted, watching him. The knot of anticipation in his gut loosened slightly. This afternoon, the whole world might go mad—but this, at least, was familiar.

None of them were Ciri, but he cared for these twelve children. He hadn't even come close to teaching them everything he wanted them to know in the short few months he'd had so far, but with a little luck, he'd have plenty longer to finish the work—and then send them out into a world safer than the one outside the walls now.

He cleared his throat. "This afternoon," he said, "I'm going on a mission. It shouldn't take long—but you never know with these things. As such, I'm canceling this class for the rest of the week. Headmaster Ozpin will keep you apprised if that needs to be extended."

His words were greeted with a round of nodding. "What's your mission?" Ruby asked curiously.

"Classified," Geralt replied simply. "Sorry. Anyway…" He picked a small flask on his desk, full of a pale green, viscous fluid, transparent as the glass containing it. "We've gotten a shipment of Grimm oil back from the manufactories for education purposes," he said. "Today we're going to be talking about ways to incorporate into your weapon designs. If you can use chambers to deploy Dust to your weapons, you should be able to do something similar with oils."

At lunch, Geralt was surprised when a familiar woman in white sank into the seat beside his. "Hey, Geralt," Summer said.

"Summer," he greeted, studying her. "You coming with us today?"

"That's the plan," she said, serving herself a generous helping of mac & cheese.

"You don't have to—" he began.

"Oh, this is completely selfish," Summer interrupted without looking at him. "If I didn't go and you failed, I'd never forgive myself. If I do, and we succeed, I can retire without ever feeling guilty for the rest of my life. Sounds like a good way to invest a few days."

He chuckled ruefully. "And if you join us and we fail?"

"Won't have to worry about it," Summer said dryly. "I'll be dead."

"And you're okay with that?"

Summer shot him a baleful look. "Okay is a strong word." She looked back down at her plate. "I don't want to leave my family behind again," she said quietly. "I really, really don't."

"You don't have to."

She continued as if she hadn't heard him. "When I first took this job, first enrolled in combat school," she said, voice pensive, "I would have been satisfied with this. I'd have taken the peace I've carved out for myself and run. But now?" She shook her head slowly. "I have two daughters just starting down this road," she said. "And more than peace, more than rest, more even than having them in my life or being in theirs, I want them to… I want for them to live in a different world from the one I grew up in. I want them to grow up knowing the Grimm can be beaten. Knowing that we aren't all just engaged in a long march towards oblivion."

"You want them to have hope," Geralt said.

She let out a long, slow breath. "I've always thought that hope was just the thought that maybe tomorrow can be better that today," she said. "Tomorrow, specifically. I never even considered a world where that became a trajectory, where things kept getting better. It was always just… a fact of the world, to me, that eventually the Grimm would tear down our walls, bathe our streets in blood, swallow our whole world. The idea that, with one single mission, I can help change something that fundamental about Remnant?" She looked at him suddenly, and there was a soft, bittersweet smile on her face. "I'd have to be crazy not to try."

Geralt met her eyes. "I appreciate it," he told her honestly. "Do you want to talk to your daughters before we leave?"

"I'll say goodbye, at least," said Summer. Her lips quirked. "At least this time, I know the mission is dangerous enough to take me away from them."

Geralt nodded slowly. "I think…" he hesitated. "I think you should tell them what the mission is," he said.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "It's pretty damn classified."

"Those kids can keep a secret," he said. "The whole team. And I think Ruby and Yang deserve to know why you're taking this risk—what the stakes are, and why it's worth it to you. And I think they should hear it from you."

She considered him silently for a moment. "You don't plan to ask Ozpin if this is all right," she observed.

"I don't," he confirmed.

She smirked suddenly. "Sure," she said. "I can be rebellious. I guess I've earned it."

Ruby was halfway through detaching her cyberleg after lunch when there was a knock on the door to their dorm. Blake went to get it.

"Mom!" exclaimed Yang brightly. The word was immediately followed by a thud as she jumped out of her bunk.

Ruby gritted her teeth as her leg disconnected from the interface and she suddenly lost her sense of control over it. She put the leg on the desk, then spun her chair, smiling. "Hey, Mom!"

"Hello, girls," said Summer warmly, slipping past Blake and hugging Yang, then coming give one to Ruby.

"I thought I saw you at lunch!" Yang said. "What's up, Mom? Why are you back in Beacon?"

Mom's smile shrank slightly. "Well… I have a mission. Geralt told you he was leaving for one, right? I'm joining his team for it."

"Oh, cool," said Yang.

Ruby, however, did not think it was cool. What sort of mission would need both Geralt's unique expertise, and Mom's skills? And how dangerous would it be?

Summer met her gaze, and Ruby knew she had the right idea. "Girls," she said, "you have to promise not to tell anyone about my mission. I want to tell you about it, but you have to keep it secret."

"Blake and I can leave," said Weiss quickly.

Mom smiled at her. "No need," she said. "My daughters trust you, and so do I. As long as you're willing to keep the secret—and I do mean from everyone, including friends and family—you can stay. Oh," she added, "and you all have to shut off your scrolls."

"Our scrolls?" Blake asked blankly. "Uh… okay."

"We promise," said Ruby quietly, pressing the power button on her scroll. Around the room, her teammates did the same. "What's your mission? And… how dangerous is it?"

Summer's smile turned melancholy. "Very," she said quietly. "But they might need me, and if we succeed, we'll have saved the world."

They convened in Geralt's classroom. Ozpin held a steaming mug in one hand and carried his cane in the other, looking entirely unbothered save for the way the cup in his hand shook ever so slightly. Ciri was seated in the center of the floor, eyes closed, pale green magic shimmering around her body like smoke. Yennefer was making a last-minute check of half of her reagents, pulling them in and out of pockets of the duffel bag slung over her shoulder. The other half was with Geralt, who shifted the heavy rucksack on his back, rolling his shoulders beneath the straps. In Geralt's usual seat behind the desk sat Regis, leaning back against the wall, his eyes closed. Along another wall was Qrow, arms folded over his chest.

The door opened. Summer stepped inside, shutting it quietly behind her. "Okay," she said. Her eyes were slightly red. "I've said goodbye."

"I'll look after the kids," Qrow said to her, voice soft. "Properly, this time."

She gave him a smile. "I know you will, Qrow. Thank you." She turned to Ozpin. "I told the girls where I was going," she said.

Ozpin blinked. "…Oh. I see."

"I'm not apologizing or asking forgiveness," she said. "I just thought you should know. Just in case."

"I appreciate the heads-up," said Ozpin evenly. "You told them everything?"

"Everything immediately relevant," said Summer. "I told Ruby about her eyes, too. Just in case I… don't come back to teach her to use them."

Ozpin sighed. "I understand," he said. "For what it's worth, I don't fault you at all. They deserve to know."

A bit of the tension left Summer's shoulders, and she gave Ozpin a small smile. "Thank you. And—for what it's worth—I hope, after we're done, you can get some rest, too."

He smiled back, tightly. "Thank you, Summer."

"Ciri," Geralt said, "you ready?"

Ciri sprang to her feet with all the agility available to a young woman. "Whenever you are," she said, opening her eyes and grinning at him. "It'll be just like old times; only, this time it's you that has to deal with being the prophesied hero, and I just get to tag along for the ride."

"Hopefully you find 'tagging along' more relaxing than I did," Geralt said dryly.

"Oh, probably," Ciri agreed airily. "For you, this is one of the most important fights of your career. For me, it's a vacation." She held out her hands, one to him, the other to Yennefer. "Take my hands, all four of you, and let's be off."

Geralt put his hand in hers. Beside him, Summer closed her fingers around Ciri's wrist. On Ciri's other side, Yennefer and Regis mirrored them.

"Welcome to Ciri Air," said Ciri, with the lilt of someone making a silly joke fully aware that no one around them was in on it. "We hope you enjoy flying with us today. There may be some turbulence of the eldritch variety, so please keep your seat belts fastened and your buckets close by."

And then, in a brilliant flash of green, they were gone.

Cinder blinked at the sudden vibration of her scroll in her pocket. Who would be contacting her now? Had Torchwick fumbled again, and was calling to ask for a rescue? But no—it was a notification, the vibrations didn't continue.

Surreptitiously, she palmed her scroll and looked down at it as the professor at the front of the room droned on about some unimportant geographic trivia.

It wasn't a text or a message. It was a notification, which she herself had set to be given when a certain triggering event occurred.

Professor Geralt's aura monitor, which she had gained access to through Watts' crack in the CCT network, had lost connection.

She licked her lips, put her scroll away, and raised her hand. "Professor," she said. "May I be excused to the restroom?"

Two minutes later, Salem picked up her scroll. "They're gone," Cinder said immediately. "Ma'am, if we're going to act, it's time."

"Excellent," Salem purred. "How soon can you cause that panic?"

"Give me thirty minutes," Cinder said. "Speaking of which—you agreed that the time for subtlety was over. How… certain are you of that?"

"Why?" Salem asked.

"I have an idea."

"After the assault on Sietch Tarak," Oobleck said in his usual rapid cadence, his wooden pointer flicking across the map of Vacuo projected on the screen behind him, "General Atreides decided, contrary to the wishes of—"

The projector went dark suddenly. The whole room went dark, every light suddenly flickering out.

There was a sudden hush as even those students who had been talking quietly in the back of the room fell silent in surprise.

"Power outage?" Yang asked beside Ruby.

"It seems so," said Professor Oobleck. "Well, I suppose we can relocate to—"

The projector blinked back to life, but instead of the map of Vacuo, all that appeared on the screen was the image of a single black chess piece—a Queen. The lights did not return.

"People of Vale," came a sultry woman's voice over the speakers. "Your leaders—your protectors—have been lying to you."

Ozpin's palms were pressed together hard enough that his fingers were turning white.

"They told you, after the Great War, that a new age of peace was dawning," the voice said from the screen on his desk, a smirk audible in the words. "They knew better—and now, you will too."

"Qrow," said Ozpin, his voice hoarse as she kept going. "The vampire's team—they should have class with Professor Peach right now."

"You want me to bring them in?" Qrow asked quietly.

"I want you to stop her."

"For centuries," the voice said over every radio in the large briefing room, "you have clung to existence, under constant siege from forces you do not understand, forces you cannot hope to resist."

James Ironwood activated Mettle. He felt his fear, his horror, his dread, all grow muted beneath the cold iron of calculation. It's the Mistrali double-agent, he thought. She's trying to cause a panic. She intends to summon the Grimm. They decided not to wait for the Vytal festival.

They knew about Geralt. We don't know how much—we have to assume they know everything. The only people who know what we found out from the Lamp were in that room.

…No. Two other people knew. Summer Rose and Raven Branwen.

Either one of the Circle is a traitor… or Raven Branwen is.

Raven Branwen hasn't been seen in Vale in a week. She may have known when Summer was leaving.

With perfectly smooth, economical motions, he turned to Winter, staring in horror at her personal scroll. "Specialist Schnee," he said, startling her.

She snapped to attention with a salute. "Sir?"

"Deploy search teams to Beacon Academy," he ordered. "Find and capture Raven Branwen, if she is anywhere in the school."

In the central square of Downtown Vale, the single busiest intersection on Remnant, the black Queen was visible on every holographic sign and billboard. Upon a landing on one of the skyscrapers, a small black bird stared at it, red eyes wide, tiny heart thrumming in panic.

"The Grimm have beset you for as long as history can remember," the voice was saying. "You are taught that they are mindless beasts, driven only by the desire to hunt, to snuff out your joys and your pleasures. This is almost true. But while most Grimm are no smarter than animals, that doesn't mean there is no intellect behind them."

Raven Branwen spread her wings and took to the sky. She was halfway out of the city before she saw the cracks spreading in the rock of Mount Daral to the south of the city.

"She was once worshipped as a god," said Cinder's voice, washing over Emerald as it echoed around the dorm. "But you have forgotten her. She has decided to remind you."

"Didn't expect her to just come out and say it," said Mercury, his casual demeanor belied by the tension around his eyes.

"Yeah," agreed Emerald faintly.

"She is the Lady of Ash, the Queen of the Grimm, Remnant's last and only god. She has seen your shining cities, your walls, and she laughs at your hubris to think that they will protect you."

She's gotta be making all this up, Roman thought as he swung his cane, knocking another soldier to the ground. A queen of Grimm? Insane. She's just some jumped-up revolutionary with delusions of grandeur and a lot of cash and firepower to throw around. I'll outlive her like I've outlived everyone.

Ahead of him, Neo speared another guard through the heart, then turned to him as the man crumbled behind her. She cocked her head.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," said Roman, as they continued towards the bridge.

"She has lived ten thousand years. She will live ten thousand more. She cannot be killed. Not by any blade, or gun, or Dust, or any other weapon or skill you or anyone before you has ever found. She is implacable, unstoppable, invulnerable. And today, she has decided that she has waited long enough."

Taiyang clutched Zwei in his lap, hands shaking against the perfectly still dog's fur. Outside, in the forests of Patch, he thought he heard the beginning of a chorus of howls.

"People of Vale, you have only two choices. Kneel before Her Grace, and she may deign to spare you. But if you choose to resist, she will laugh as she crushes your bones to dust.

"Today is the first day of a new age. Rejoice, people of Vale—people of Remnant—for the time of the Grimm has come."

"What could possibly make them panic more than knowing that you're out there?" Cinder asked rhetorically. "Ozpin refuses to tell his inner circle about your invincibility, because he knows they'll give up if they know they can't win. It's how you claimed Lionheart. Why not extend the principle?"

Salem was silent for a moment. "You do have another plan, I assume?" she asked dangerously.

"Of course!" said Cinder, and it was true. "We can use the Atlesian occupation, along with our control over their network, to manufacture an act of war. But there's always the risk that my agents will be captured before their can seize control over the Knights."

Silence again. "And what am I afraid of, after all?" Salem mused. "I am unstoppable. Impossible to defeat. Ozma has worked so hard to keep my invincibility secret. It would be such a shame not to take that away from him." She chuckled. "Very well, Cinder. You have my permission."

"Yes, Ma'am."

The mountain cracked down the middle. With a bellowing roar that echoed like the rumbling of the foundations of the very world, Nidhoggr emerged, wings outstretched to the sky.

Raven hovered in place, slowly turning. In the north, she could see just cresting the horizon a horde of Goliaths, and at their head the bulk of Ganesha.

In the east a cloud of black grew steadily larger as a flock of Nevermores, on a scale she had never in her darkest nightmares imagined, approached at speed. At their center flew the Thunderbird, wings spread wide enough that suddenly the stories of it encircling the world in its feathers did not seem so laughable.

In the west, the sea was churning, foam and froth spraying along the shore like beer that had been shaken by an irate bartender before serving. As she watched, a black head emerged upon a serpentine head. Then another. Then more, dozens—some attacked to individual serpentine Grimm, but many attacked to the singular body of the Hydra.

I should have left sooner, Raven thought as she flapped there, high above the sirens, the screaming, the panic.

She thought of a girl with violet eyes and a thick mane of blonde hair, who looked at her with scorn and bitterness.

She thought of a man with that same hair and an easy smile that came as naturally to him as light to the sun, except when he was calling, begging for her to come back in a voice hoarse with shouting.

She thought of an even smaller child with eyes like liquid mercury and dark hair tipped in crimson, who understood the harshness of the world and laughed in its face.

She thought of a dour-faced girl with those same eyes, which crinkled around the edges on those rare occasions Raven could get her to laugh, whose smile was soft when she looked up at Raven from beneath her white hood.

It was the hardest thing she'd ever done, and yet she could not imagine doing anything else, when she turned and started gliding in the direction of Beacon Academy.