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"Breaking News! SDC Attacked! White Fang Crippled!"

The anchor for the Atlas Broadcasting Network shuffled his papers and stared into the camera, his face beamed all across the kingdom. "At 11 pm tonight, the faunus terrorist organization known as the White Fang launched an all-out assault on the Schnee Dust Company's Surplus Complex, where millions of lien of dust was being stored due to General Ironwood's embargo. The terrorists, led by the architect of the Fall of Beacon, the Blood-Soaked Bull Adam Taurus attempted to make off with the dust, doubtless to fuel their continued war against the kingdoms."

"However, Taurus and his followers found no easy prey here as they did at the Vytal Festival. Indeed, they were met with righteous justice from that atrocity, as the Atlas' own darling starlet Weiss Schnee single-handedly defeated the terrorists and killed the Blood-Soaked Bull!"

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"That seems… unlikely," Robyn Hill remarked.

The Happy Huntresses, the band of Atlas Academy graduates that had turned down the military's offer to join in favor of aiding the oppressed people of Mantle, had all gathered around the small, beaten up television in their hideout. The four sat atop rugged crates and dusty cots, having only just come in from warding off a pack of Sabers from hitting the decaying western wall.

"You can say that again," May snorted. "Girl looks like a toothpick."

Joanna nudged her side. "She survived the Fall of Beacon. She's gotta have some meat on her bones."

May rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on! They can't seriously expect anyone to believe that she took down Adam Taurus and an entire White Fang strike force on her own! That's just ridiculous!"

"Ridiculous or not, people are eating it up," Fiona noted, searching through her scroll to various news sites. "This report's been out for maybe an hour and Atlas's public is singing her praises. There are even a few calls for her to run for council in the upcoming election."

Robyn cocked an eyebrow. "What about Mantle?"

"Most of them are for it, but from what I can tell a good chunk of people don't care too much," Fiona explained. "We've got enough trouble down here as it is. According to those folks whatever happens on Atlas' shiny metal ass is their business."

"Ha!" May laughed. "They ain't wrong about that."

Joanna sighed. The towering woman looked to her leader. "She might be a problem if she actually runs."

Robyn rolled her eyes. "No, no she will not. The most important thing isn't that I win, but that someone gets on the council solely to fight for Mantle. Even if the Ice Princess does run, which I don't think she will, I'd rather have her on the council than her old man."

May snorted. "Like she won't just be his puppet if she does."

"Maybe. Maybe not," Robyn replied. "Esper loves her, that's for sure."

"Esper loves all the Schnee kids. And they love her," Fiona pointed out. "Did you see that boy following her around? He was practically eating out of her hand."

"Better than being a clone of Jacques," May chuckled. However, her laughter faded quickly and she looked back to Robin. "So, what does this mean for us?"

Robyn shrugged. "Hopefully, good things. With Taurus dead and the White Fang 'beaten', Ironwood might finally see sense and lift the embargo."

May and Fiona sneered. Even Joanna rolled her eyes at the statement. "Since when do tyrants ever give up power?"

Robyn frowned, but she couldn't really refute them. Atlas had never particularly cared about Mantle, but in the last few months the general had been redirecting supplies that had been allocated to the defense repairs towards some secret project. The Happy Huntresses had been looking into the matter (some of the supplies had gone missing on route only for similar qualities of the materials to mysteriously show up in the stores of Mantle companies), but so far all they'd been able to find out was that the Specialist Core was scouting out some abandoned SDC mine. For what purpose they did not know.

She hoped it was a good one, an actual matter of kingdom security. Back when they were just students at Atlas, when the general had been their headmaster, he had never seemed like a cruel man. He had actively and heavily encouraged them to join the military, but when they'd declined so that they could help Mantle, he hadn't pushed the subject despite his disappointment. Everything Robyn had gotten from Ironwood back then had led her to believe that he was a good man.

And yet, his actions since the Vytal Festival had suggested anything but. He ordered the dust embargo and closed the kingdom's borders. He was stealing supplies from Mantle, allowing their people to be mauled by Grimm incursions while Atlas lived as gluttonous as ever. He was intimidating the rest of the council so that Esper couldn't overturn his damned embargo. He poured more and more of the kingdom's budget in military protects while Mantle starved. These were not the actions of a good man. They were the actions of a tyrant using a tragedy to accumulate power.

But maybe she was wrong. She prayed that she was wrong, that he was just overreacting after the Fall of Beacon humiliated Atlas and left the other kingdoms furious with them. Some of them even whispered that the 'hacked' Knights hadn't actually been hacked. Either way, there wasn't much she could do legally until she won the upcoming election.

Until then, she'd have to hope that Esper could use recent events to repeal the embargo. The Chairwoman was good at playing the political game, both Atlas and Mantle adored her, some even clamoring for her to be granted emergency powers so that she could reverse Ironwood's measures without Council approval. But Robin knew where her true loyalty laid. Not long after the embargo began and Ironwood began appropriating Mantle's supplies, the Chairwoman had been the one to slip the Happy Huntresses the alternate routes. And when Robyn had demanded she submit to her semblance to make sure it wasn't some sort of trap; the former Specialist had done so eagerly.

Her aura had glowed green and confirmed she was telling the truth. She wanted to help the people.

Hopefully, Ironwood did as well.

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"Sienna Khan, the so-called High Leader of the White Fang, has released a statement to the Atlas Government disavowing Taurus' recent actions, including the Breach of Vale and The Fall of Beacon. Whether these reports of the infamous Blood-Soaked Bull going rogue from the faunus terrorist organization remain unconfirmed."

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"For gods' sake James, you've put down the rabid dog and penned the rest of the vermin! Lift the damn embargo!"

Whitley preened at his father's declaration for appearances' sake but inwardly cringed at his blunt manner. He knew from many SDC press releases that Jacques was capable of affecting a diplomatic if he wanted to, but it seemed in present company, all of whom were well aware of his more fiery disposition, he did not care to put in the effort.

They were all gathered around a round table in the general's office at Atlas Academy, some of the most powerful people in the kingdom. Ironwood, Winter at his side, sat at the head of the table, his exhausted eyes glaring at Jacques. Whitley stood with Madam Rosenflos on the general's right, her golden eyes closing as a sigh escaped her lips.

Across from her was the only person in the room Whitley had never met before, a masked woman in a highly decorated Atlas Intelligence uniform. Esper had glared daggers at her when she'd entered the room, her gaze soaked in a fury the young Schnee had never seen from his patron before. Quickly thinking back to the dossiers he'd been gifted on all important figures in the Atlas Military, it hadn't taken long to deduce that he had now met the infamous COMMAND ESR.

He couldn't say he got what the big deal was. She commanded Atlas Intelligence true, but she was subordinate to General Ironwood. Unnerving her mask may have been, the woman behind it hardly seemed remarkable.

"That may be unwise," the spymaster advised. "Adam Taurus may be dead, but we still don't know how he was able to get into the kingdom. Until then, it may be best to keep our defenses on high alert."

"High alert?" Jacques scoffed, his eyes filled with utter loathing at the masked woman. "Your high alert consisted of brainwashing my daughter to do your dirty work!"

"Don't talk like you care!" Winter shouted. "Weiss was approached with the job to protect the kingdom and she took it."

"Last I checked, she wasn't a licensed huntress!" Jacques sneered, his gaze falling on Ironwood. "Well, general? Has the military grown so desperate that they're recruiting children before they've even graduated? Or is it just Atlas Intelligence? This is hardly new territory for them. Did you even know about this little operation?"

Ironwood's hand closed into a fist. "Atlas Intelligence is part of the military. They are under my command. Their decisions are my decisions."

"So that means they aren't making them behind your back? If I find out even a single canister went missing from my storehouse because of 'errant fire', was that your decision too—"

"Jacques," Esper spoke up, drawing all eyes to her. "You have my deepest apologies. Here we are talking about bureaucracy and politics when your daughter just fought for her life against the White Fang. You must be worried sick about her, but you're here out of duty to your kingdom."

Whitley had to repress a chuckle at that. Duty to their kingdom? Father? The very thought was almost as funny as the scowl that spread across Winter's face.

"Go to her. Make sure she's alright and the media isn't taking advantage of her," Esper continued. "We will make you aware of the date the council decides on for the hearing regarding the embargo repeal."

It was polite but hardly subtle. It was the Chairwoman's way of telling father that his bluster wasn't helping. She would advance their cause of undoing the embargo, but for now, he needed to leave it to her. Whitley knew that if she'd been so blunt that Jacques would have raged just to keep up appearances, but so did Esper. She knew how to phrase it so they could both walk away with their egos intact.

Father huffed, but he seemed to get the message, straightening up to go. He nodded to Whitley. "I'll see you at home, my boy."

He marched out of the room.

Ironwood sighed. "Thank you for that. I have enough of a headache as it is."

"You're welcome," Esper replied. Her eyes narrowed at COMMAND ESR. "But he does raise a good point. How much is Intelligence actually sharing with the rest of us? What information I received suggested the White Fang planned to assault the shipment to Polendina Labs."

"They did," Ironwood reminded her. "It was simply Taurus' decoy. He fooled us."

"But not Intelligence," Esper said. "Isn't that why you had Ms. Schnee waiting for them, COMMAND?"

It was slight, but Whitley thought he saw the spymaster's fists tighten. "We allocated information as necessary to catch the White Fang off-guard. We did not know if whoever got Taurus into Atlas was still backing him and so conducted the surplus complex operation in-house. And, I should note, it worked. The Blood-Soaked Bull is dead, and we have dozens of prisoners to interrogate about their accomplice."

"See that you do," General Ironwood commanded. "And the next time you want to conduct an operation "in-house", remember that I am the head of that house."

"General?"

"If tonight hadn't been the success it had been, if Ms. Schnee had been seriously injured, or gods forbid died," Ironwood growled. "I would have your hide."

COMMAND ESR held the headmaster's gaze for a few seconds before nodding. "Understood, sir. It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't. Dismissed. Winter, ensure escort COMMAND out."

Winter saluted. "Yes, sir. Madam Chairwoman," She glanced at Whitley. "Brother."

Whitley frowned. "Winter."

His sister sighed at his dismissal, though he doubted she expected anything more. While he had some lingering affection for Weiss, Winter had never spared him any care until after she'd abandoned him to father and mother's tender mercies. He had no desire to make up for lost time with the Ice Queen.

COMMAND ESR rose to her feet, saluted the general, and then the commanders of the Specialist Core and Atlas Intelligence marched out of the office side-by-side.

Esper glared at the spymaster's back until the door closed behind her. "I'm not blind, you know. It isn't difficult to figure out that she suspects me."

"She suspects everyone. It's her job," Ironwood pointed out. His hands raked down his face, stretching the bags under his eyes even wider. "It'll be nice to go to sleep with some good news for once. If you don't mind, let's schedule this meeting some other time."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, James," Esper said. "The rest of the council are demanding we schedule a hearing to vote on this embargo."

"Of course they are," Ironwood moaned. "Eight o'clock. Five days from now."

"Why not three?" Esper joked. "We can get this embargo lifted and send out messengers to start restoring trade relations with the other kingdoms by the end of the week—"

"We won't be lifting it."

"What?" Whitley squawked. Too late, he realized he'd spoken aloud as both the general and the chairwoman looked to him.

It was hardly his intention to get such attention thrust upon him. A Schnee he may be, he had no illusions about his political standing. He was an assistant, not an official. He had no place to speak here, not yet.

But he couldn't simply do nothing, could he? He'd been with the Council Chairwoman every day, going over the documents and statistics on just how much harm the embargo was doing to the kingdom's economy. The SDC weren't the only ones losing money, businesses across Mantle and Atlas were operating on a loss. Hell, according to reports, most smaller prospects in the slums had been forced to shut down.

Of course, he obviously didn't care that such people were suffering… no, no, he didn't. Esper cared about it, she'd put more and more relief bills and tax exemptions on the council floor than he'd thought was possible trying to keep those jobs afloat. She'd written day and night and marched into the other councilors' offices to negotiate their support. She'd even asked him what he'd thought was best, and when he'd answered with what father might have said, she'd patiently informed him of the unfortunate consequences of such a plan.

He cared about the effect the embargo was having on Mantle because if those small businesses went under then their neighborhoods would consequently become poorer. And if any SDC employees lived in that neighborhood and their quality of living were to drop, they might start demanding raises and that would be a ruckus the company didn't need.

Yes, that was the reason. Not because he cared. That would be foolish.

And even if he did, he certainly didn't care enough to openly defy the most powerful man in Atlas.

"My apologies, general," he backpedaled. "What I mean to say is… why?"

Esper smiled and turned back to Ironwood. "He asks an excellent question, James. The mastermind behind the Fall of Beacon is dead. We've avenged our humiliation. What possible justification is there to keep this embargo going when our people are suffering from it? Unless… unless you think there's still a threat." Her eyes widened. "You don't think Adam Taurus was behind what happened at Beacon? Or tonight? That's why you're entertaining COMMAND ESR's delusions."

The general did not respond. He rose to his feet. "The hearing will be in five days. Unless the Council has at least eighty percent of those present in favor, the embargo will remain."

"Which won't happen because you hold two of five seats," Esper argued, jumping to her feet. For a tense few seconds, the two huntsmen held each other's gaze, their iron wills jockeying for advantage.

Ironwood broke the silence first. "The embargo will stand."

"Godsdamnit James! Half the kingdom thinks you're a tyrant and the other half is coming around," Esper shouted. "I want to help you, I do. But I cannot help you, cannot convince the rest of the council to trust you, if I don't know what's going on!"

The general sighed. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Wouldn't believe what?" Esper demanded. "Who Adam Taurus' master is if it's not Sienna Khan? Or maybe what Pietro Polendina needs so much dust for? Or what the hell you're planning to do with Amity Coliseum that justifies leaving Mantle with less than a skeleton defense?"

"Those are classified."

"The council has security clearance—"

"Not this high. Not for this!" Ironwood snapped.

"They're the governing body of the kingdom!"

"They are civilians. This is a military matter."

"Listen to yourself!" Esper pleaded. "I trust you, James. I really do. But when you act like a tyrant and give no justifications for why, what else are they to think but that you are a tyrant?"

Ironwood averted his gaze and marched to his desk. He planted his hands on the metal and stared off towards the Atlas skyline. "As long as this kingdom and its people are safe, they can think what they like of me."

Esper sighed. "Then they will. But I wish they didn't have to. Goodbye, James."

"Goodbye, Esper. See you at the council meeting."

The Chairwoman turned and exited the room, Whitley following after. Once they were encased in the protective steel of the elevator, his patron finally allowed herself to sag against the wall.

"He's a fool," Whitley assured her. Once, that might have been sycophantic pandering, but after months of working with Esper he knew such a sentiment would not be appreciated. Unfortunately, the general's stubbornness more than warranted it. "If he tries to deadlock the council, eventually he won't be able to keep them from removing him. Or the public will do so once his seats come up for election."

"That is a distinct possibility," the chairwoman declared. "But I fear that such a thing might only escalate matters. He controls the military, and most of them believe in him completely."

Whitley scoffed. "It does seem unwise of the Vytal Treaty to separate military and civilian power like that."

"It has worked for decades," Esper declared, pushing herself upright again. She brushed herself off and plastered on a camera-ready smile. "It's our duty to make sure it continues to serve the people as well as it can."

"As it can?" Whitley repeated, curious about that particular phrasing.

The elevator dinged open and the pair stepped out into the grand lobby of Atlas Academy, pristine yet structured, a model of the kingdom's military efficiency. At the moment, it was filled with frantic shouts and flashing cameras, a mob of reporters and press types squished together, all of them shoving towards their target.

Said target was quite clear on the other side of the foyer. Weiss was mustering her way through the flood of reporters, doing her best to smile genially as she and a pair of uniformed Intelligence agents (was that the boy she'd been talking with at the gala? So that was when they'd recruited her?) shoved as many of them aside as possible trying to get to the entryway and escape into a limo where Klein was dutifully waiting.

Esper cracked a smile. "She's handling them better than I expected. I've seen people punch them when they get like this."

"Charming," Whitley noted bitterly. "Weiss did always have a talent for performances."

Esper sighed. "Whitley, do you love your father?"

"That… is a complicated question."

"But you don't believe he loves you. Do you love Weiss?"

Whitley frowned. "I did. Once. But she chose to leave me behind. I have chosen to survive."

"Living is more than surviving," Esper advised. "It's having friends and family. And while I'm more than happy to be by your side, you shouldn't cast your sister aside just because she made a choice with more consequences than she understood at the time."

"She cast me aside," Whitley said, though not with as much conviction as he expected. "Why should I not return the favor?"

Esper shook her head and gave him a soft pat on the back. "Because family isn't about getting even. It isn't about using each other like your father does. That's the coward's way."

"Coward?" Whitley cocked an eyebrow. "My father is many things, but a coward? A coward wouldn't invite Ironwood's wrath over and over."

"He'd rather treat people as tools than have the bravery to reach out to them, to try to form real bonds with them," Esper elaborated. "Be better than him, stronger than him. Reach out to your sister, and perhaps the two of you can love each other again."

Whitley couldn't find the words to respond to that. Forgive Weiss? Just forget all that he had suffered because she had left him alone? He didn't know if he could, if he ever would.

But… for the first time in a long time, he was wondering if he wanted to.

"Oh, what have we here?"

Whitley followed Esper's gaze towards Weiss' group, specifically at Winter. His eldest sister trudged her way through the reporters, few brave enough to beg a comment from the Specialist Commander but most wisely got out of her way.

She made her way to Weiss and the two engaged in a brief, but quickly heated discussion, inaudible amidst the roar of the press.

"I don't suppose you can read lips," he joked.

"They're saying… 'The matter we spoke of earlier is classified. Cannot tell you'," Esper relayed, raising an eyebrow.

"You can actually—"

"You pick up quite a few tricks as a huntress. And apparently Weiss is not happy about not getting the info, and Winter—" Esper recoiled as if she were struck, her eyes going wide with worry. "She says to ask your father."

"Ask father?" Whitley repeated. "That doesn't sound like something Winter would say. And what would Weiss need with something classified?"

"If she's after what I think she is, then nothing good for anyone," Esper declared.

They continued to watch the scene. Winter pulled away from Weiss and grabbed one of the Intelligence officers, a yellow-eyed woman with a scar running down the left side of her face, dragging her off into the academy.

After that, Weiss and her black-haired beau finally managed to push their way through the reporters and into the limo, Klein expertly shutting the door behind them and getting in the driver's side. Soon, the couple were off.

And the reporters had sighted new meat.

"Is that the Council Chairwoman?"

"Madam Rosenflos!"

"Is that Whitley Schnee? Sir, care to comment on your sister's timely heroics?!"

Whitley could only sigh as Esper let out a chuckle at the mob's charge. It was looking to be a long night.

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"Ms. Schnee! Why were you at the facility when it was attacked? Was it a surprise inspection?"

"Have you taken on a role in your father's company? Do you still plan to continue your huntress training?!"

"How did it feel to avenge all your classmates who were slain at Beacon?"

If she had not been trained to handle the media since before she could properly understand that they were the little people inside the tv, Weiss might have been overwhelmed by the storm of questions. As it was, she was able to pick and choose which she answered in the frantic hail of reporters and play the rest off with a genial smile. After she had replied enough to ensure her public image, she had pushed through the mob with Gray and Drizzella's help (Eleanor had apparently wanted someone to keep an eye on her) and made for an escape vehicle helpfully provided by Klein.

But before they'd left, Winter had caught up to them. Fortunately, the public setting and the time she must have had to process Weiss' actions had meant there was no furious lecture born of worry. However, that did not prevent her from delivering bad news.

With a cautious glance at Drizzella, Winter had tactfully confirmed that the matter they had discussed at the Sterling Knight was indeed classified above top secret. There was nothing she could do to tell her.

But she had let her know who might be willing to let something slip.

And so, when she arrived at the mansion and Klein made her aware that Jacques had commanded her to come to his office, she'd marched straight there, even as her faithful butler unloaded a suitcase she had never seen before and Gray had voiced his well-meant queries if she was alright.

She was not alright.

She was not supposed to be alright.

She entered Jacques' office and closed the door behind her, sliding the lock shut.

"I see you managed to escape your adoring public," Jacques observed, casually standing in front of his desk, setting an empty tumbler down beside a half-empty bottle of brandy. "I must commend you on that. And your work tonight. You defended this family and removed an infuriating thorn in our side."

Weiss said nothing. She stared at her father with icy blue eyes, the temperature of the office subtly dropping.

"Of course, despite your success, do not think you are without reproach," Jacques continued, pouring himself another glass of alcohol. "I don't know when or how you ended up in Atlas Intelligence's pocket, but you will cut all ties with them immediately. I will not have any member of this family associated with those lying, backstabbing pieces of filth."

"Look in a mirror lately?"

Jacques' eyes narrowed, his knuckles tightening around his glass. "What did you say? You will not disrespect me, young lady—"

"Operation Godmother's Haven."

It gave Weiss no small amount of pleasure to see her sire's face light up with terror.

"Don't spout things words you don't know anything about," he growled. "I don't know where you heard that name but—"

His words froze in his throat as his eyes finally realized that the brandy in his hand was no longer liquid. His alcohol was now a cylinder of golden ice with a black frost coating.

Weiss ceased his moment of confusion and stalked towards him like a lioness on the prowl. She strode up to his desk and glared him in the face.

"Eleanor Tremaine and COMMAND ESR were very eager to get me to work with them," she said. "Airing your dirty laundry was apparently their way of buttering me up. It was quite effective. Just thinking about what happened to that girl Ella because of you."

"You dare!" he roared, smacking his tumbler down on his desk. "I am your father! You think to threaten me—"

Weiss slapped her hand onto his desk. The fine Mistralian wood was instantly covered in a thick sheet of pitch-black ice, the room temperature dropped to freezing.

Jacques leapt away from the sudden incursion, his eyes widening as he stared at her in abject horror.

"I am not your pet. I am not another thing you own or command," Weiss snarled. "And I do not think to threaten you. I am threatening you. Give me my family's company back, or I will make the public fully aware of your sins. After that, I imagine the board will force you out."

"You… I'll disown you!"

"Oh yes, imagine how that will go over. Disowning the Slayer of Adam Taurus, the one spark of hope for the kingdom in these dark times," Weiss parroted. "Your public image isn't exactly sterling as it is. If you did that, I imagine I could start my own company and your entire workforce would join me."

Jacques growled, but he couldn't meet her gaze. His resolve was weakening. "You wouldn't dare release the details of Godmother's Haven. Ironwood wouldn't let you. It would bring down the entire kingdom! Mistral would declare war on us!"

Oh? That was interesting. The only things she actually knew about the classified operation were what little Gray had overheard from the Tremaine sisters' conversation in the Sterling Knight, that it had involved stopping a war and some girl named Ella and her father had publicly died in a rather unpleasant manner. Pricking Jacques' psyche as she was probably wasn't what Winter had meant when she'd said to ask him about it. But with Adam's brand still fresh and throbbing in Weiss' mind, she couldn't seem to care.

"The version Eleanor told me wouldn't. It would just make them righteously furious with you," Weiss sneered. "And if comes out, I think that's the version of the story the kingdom will support."

Now, for the first time, she saw her father's face go white. "You… you can't. You can't let them blame me for what happened! I did it to keep Mistral from declaring war on Menagerie! I didn't know what would happen!"

Menagerie? What?

"Give me a break," Weiss scoffed, hiding her internal confoundment. "Since when have you given a damn about the faunus?"

"I don't!" Jacques snapped back, a bit of spirit back in his voice. "And I didn't. But the opportunity was too good to pass up. Ghira Belladonna had just become Chieftain of that tent town of an island, and with all his prancing about humans and faunus working together, I thought he might have been negotiable to the SDC establishing a presence to help develop the land. Imagine, building the country from the ground up! An entire nation under our family's political and economic… guidance."

Of course. She should have figured it was something like that. Nothing motivated the bastard more than profit.

"I assume those plans would have been complicated if Mistral had declared war on Menagerie. Sienna Khan taking over the White Fang would hardly fill them with generosity towards the island of the faunus," Weiss surmised.

Jacques sneered. "Atlas wasn't fond of them either, but Ironwood was determined not to let another Faunus War break out. I had provided off the books funding for Intelligence before. So, when COMMAND approached me and asked that I introduce Eleanor to Ben Autumn, I thought nothing of it! I thought it would work out for everyone when they married! The SDC would profit from Menagerie, Eleanor and her daughters would gain a foothold in Mistral politics they could use to bully away the declaration of war, and she and Ben even seemed happy together! How was I supposed to know she was going to kill him and his little girl?"

Benjamin Autumn? The name vaguely rang a bell in the back of Weiss' mind, pulling her thoughts to old stories Winter used to tell her about their grandfather and histories on prominent councilman from across the four kingdoms. Benjamin Autumn was a friend of Nicholas', the one who'd gone to bat for him in the Mistral Government to allow the SDC to expand onto Anima. He had also been one of the more prominent figures in their social circle promoting Jacques to him. A poor judge of character perhaps, but a good man on most accounts.

And no matter his friendships, a Mistralian.

"I take it he wasn't too pleased to find out that Atlas was interfering in Mistral's government," she noted.

"Of course he wasn't!" Jacques shouted, his fist smacking into the bookcase, his face red and his eyes puffy. "He threatened to expose everything! Mistral would have declared war on us as well as the animals! And Eleanor made the wrong call! She killed him! Her wretched spawn killed little Ella! They cannot blame me for that!"

It was strange seeing him distressed. Not furious or off-guard, but genuinely grieving, like a child who didn't understand that he couldn't have candy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He understood the reality, but he didn't know how to comprehend and process it. Evidentially, he had considered Councilman Autumn as much a friend as he was capable of considering anyone such.

The rest of Mistral had too. Now that she knew what to look for, she could piece together the rest from the news reports she'd seen back then and the history lessons she'd been forced to study for politics. Benjamin Autumn and his daughter Ella had been murdered and their house burned to the ground, all evidence pointing that the outspoken liberal councilman had been murdered by the Hunters for Humanity, a faunus hate group that had rivaled the White Fang for their tenure as a peaceful organization.

Of course, despite their protests of innocence, the group's history of intimidation and violence was against them, and the evidence, planted by Atlas Intelligence, made them look even more guilty. Those that were previously their supporters instantly abandoned them, shocked at the savage murder of such a highly respected citizen and his child. Combined with whatever efforts the Tremaines had already put in motion, the aftershock of such a tragedy must have been what convinced the council to back down from war.

This was Operation Godmother's Haven. Preventing a war, no doubt saving Menagerie… by manipulating and then murdering a good man.

"In the end, Eleanor returned to Atlas, Mistral sending their best with the widow of their beloved councilman. Ironwood discovered the details of what happened and swore all involved to secrecy." Jacques confessed, doing his best to get himself together. "And it was all for nothing."

"Mistral didn't declare war."

"No, but Ben's death prompted Sienna Khan to start her tenure of leadership off with a bang. In a month, she'd raided a dozen SDC convoys, and since Ghira Belladonna refused to name them a terrorist organization, he even lets them keep a public enclave on that cesspit of an island, I couldn't approach him for my development proposition without looking weak."

Weiss scowled. "Was that when you started branding faunus?"

"Branding? Oh, that," Jacques waved off. "I've never done it myself but I've heard rumors that some of the mine managers feel the need to… straighten out some of the more unruly animals—"

Weiss slammed her fist into her palm. She wasn't allowed to carry Myrtenaster in her father's presence, but a flash of Maker Magic put a blade of black ice in her hand, its edge only an inch from Jacques' throat.

"They are not animals. They are victims. Your victims! Just like me, and Winter, and mother, and Whitley, and everyone else you've hurt!" Weiss snarled. "Godmother's Haven may not have been your fault, but I can still use Intelligence's version of it to destroy you! You have one week to transfer your ownership and shares in my family's company to me and get out of this house. Otherwise, it won't end well for you."

Jacques staggered back, actually bumping up against the bookcase. "You… you dare attempt to blackmail me!?"

His palm screeched through the air, racing for her face. If she wasn't on guard, it might have actually struck. As it suddenly clicked that he had struck her mother so many times before. But he was not facing a child, or an innocent woman he'd grinded into submission. She was a huntress, a wizard!

Weiss snatched his wrist in her left hand, her aura enhanced strength easily holding him in a steel vice. Her eyes narrowed as his widened in terror.

"Now, father…"

She lunged forward, thrusting her ice sword through the bookcase only an inch to the right of his head. Jacques promptly collapsed to the floor.

"I believe we already established that I was threatening you," Weiss finished. "One week. No more."

She whirled around and marched out of the office, her sire left sprawled on the ground.

As she strode down the hall, her heels clipping across the marble floor, she held no illusions that her latest move would be the end of this matter. Her display may have frightened Jacques, maybe even terrified him, but the scumbag hadn't gotten as far as he had in life by going down easy. He would rally and fire back at her, somehow, some way.

But her gambit had been successful. She'd managed to trick him into revealing the truth of Godmother's Haven to her, while she'd made him believe she had a twisted version that would only implicate him. There was no such thing as far as she knew, but she had a sneaking suspicion Atlas Intelligence would have prepared something for if Jacques went rogue. And if she could convince them that she'd be more useful to them at the head of the SDC, she somehow doubted they'd have many issues backing her early ascension.

If worse came to worst, however, she had bought herself a bit of time. Jacques couldn't disinherit her, it'd be his word against hers that she'd attacked him, and with their current reputations, no one would believe him over her. So, while he was scrambling about like a chicken with its head cut off trying to ascertain what dirt she actually did have on him, she would quietly move all her assets, including the handsome salary Intelligence had been paying her the last few months, into accounts that she truly controlled. That way, he wouldn't be able to cut her off as he had at Beacon. She'd move out before the week was out and purchase an apartment in the city. After that, it would just be a matter of gaining influence, something she was already excelling at with her connections to Winter and General Ironwood. Maybe she could even call on Whitley to get the Council Chairwoman on her side. That help would come in handy if Intelligence turned on her.

Her eyes narrowed at that thought. She knew she could count on Gray without question, but the Tremaines? COMMAND ESR? She understood that the world often forced people to make hard choices to stop worse consequences, but from what she'd seen they were outright vicious, brutal. Eleanor had shot Adam Taurus when he was without aura and it was plainly obvious that she and Gray could have restrained him nonlethally. No, she'd killed him to keep him quiet. They'd made a production of capturing all the other grunts alive, but the Blood-Soaked Bull was the only one who might have known who'd gotten him into the kingdom.

Intelligence blamed Esper Rosenflos for Adam getting into the kingdom. But that was where they wanted Weiss to look. She figured the truth was more obvious. Much more obvious.

Jacques. Atlas Intelligence. She would not let them claim any more lives, create any more monsters.

Fairy Tail would stop them.

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"Commander, I must protest. I need to return to Intelligence Headquarters for debriefing—"

"Drizzella, I am in no mood for a runaround," Winter snapped, shutting the door of the classroom she'd commandeered and whirling on her former teammate. She withdrew a scroll tablet from her jacket and brought up an image from the Vytal Festival. "Do you know this woman?"

The Atlas Intelligence glanced at the image and cocked an eyebrow. "I can't say I do, ma'am. Who is she?"

Winter frowned. "At the moment, our prime suspect for Adam Taurus' backer. We believe her team infiltrated the tournament through Haven and used the Fall as a distraction to acquire something extremely dangerous."

"You're saying she organized a terrorist attack and Grimm invasion as a distraction?" Drizzella replied, suddenly very serious. "What was she after?"

"Classified."

"Alright. Do we have any leads on her?"

Winter bit her lip. "That was what I was hoping you could help me with. She calls herself Cinder Fall but based on certain intelligence we suspect that may be an alias."

"Huh?" Drizzella remarked. "I apologize, Commander. But I have no idea who this person is."

"Please, Drizzella," Winter whispered. "I know about Operation Godmother's Haven. I know Ella Autumn didn't die in that fire."

Drizzella's eyes widened in shock, curling away from her former leader in shame. Her fingers flew up to her scar and grazed the broken flesh.

Winter had known her teammates were haunted by their past from the moment they met in Atlas Academy. She knew the broken look in their eyes from her mother's gaze, no matter how Ana diverted it with jokes or Drizzella masked it with professionalism. But as Specialist Commander, she was finally able to access the full details of Godmother's Haven that shattered their psyches, details duty prevented her from sharing with Weiss.

The Tremaine sisters, even back then at thirteen years old, were already assassins, the murderers of many anti-faunus Mistral officials were working to push the kingdom to war over the White Fang's turn to violence. But when they were sent to execute their stepsister who had learned too much, just as her father had, for some reason Eleanor had instead ordered them to fake the girl's death and kidnapped her back to Atlas. For three years, the young girl was trained as an elite operative, loyalty beaten into her by Eleanor's fists, to make her the kingdom's most dangerous weapon. Why the Tremaine matriarch believed the random girl was worth sparing wasn't mentioned in the report, perhaps lingering affection for the loving husband she murdered for her country, but in the end, it mattered little. Agent Ella Tremaine died on her first mission, the KIA report confirmed by COMMAND ESR herself.

But she had already proven more than willing to withhold information if she saw fit.

"You think that Ella is… that's absurd!" Drizzella protested, genuinely shocked. "Ella is dead!"

"Ana thought she looked—"

"Ana is a child that still thinks we have a third sister!" Drizzella protested. "She's delusional! We lost our sister when we killed her father! She hated us, with good reason, no matter how Ana tried to smooth things over. And then she died!"

Winter froze, gazing at her old teammate in shock. She'd never seen Drizzella lose her composure like that before.

A moment later, the Intelligence Agent realized what she'd done and slid into attention. "Ma'am, I apologize for my outburst. It was unprofessional. I will accept any disciplinary punishment you see fit."

"It's fine, Drizzella," Winter assured her. She was hardly a stranger to getting worked up by family drama. But she needed definitive answers and from more than just Ana.

She pushed the tablet forward again. "I need you to tell me. Does this look like it could be a grown-up Ella?"

Drizzella looked at the image again but shook her head. "The facial structure is similar. There's a bit of her father in her nose. I can see how Ana might mistake her for Ella in her head. The month after the mission, she saw her everywhere."

"How do you know it definitely isn't her?" Winter inquired.

"Easy. The eyes."

"Her eyes?"

Drizzella chuckled bitterly. "Ma'am, Ella was our stepsister. She didn't share our blood. That means no yellow eyes, or gold in this person's case."

Winter scowled. "I see. Thank you for your time, Agent Tremaine. Dismissed."

"Thank you, ma'am," she replied. Drizzella made to leave, but her hand paused as she clasped the door handle. "Winter… I'm sorry we used your sister. I promise you, no matter what the media spin is, we were there watching her back."

The Specialist Commander cracked a small grin. "I had no doubts about that. COMMAND ESR may be a paranoid lunatic, but she wouldn't risk an asset like Weiss against half the White Fang alone."

Drizzella matched her smirk. "She is quite the spitfire. Part of me is surprised she hasn't jumped Fullbuster's bones yet."

"Ugh, I order you not to put that image in my mind."

"As you wish, ma'am."

Winter was immensely proud that her sister had made such good friends, both at Beacon and in Fairy Tail, but she'd rather not think of her getting that close, no matter how trustworthy Fullbuster was. Whether her next battle was against father or Salem or some other mystical threat, she had faith that Weiss would have allies a plenty to help her through the fight.

Which left her free to do her duty. General Ironwood had placed his faith in her, charged her with caring for Fria. And when the elderly woman finally passed, which could be any day now, she would take up the burden of the Winter Maiden herself. It would paint a target on her back. Salem's forces, her Gates, would stop at nothing to claim her life.

She would not flee from that battle. Someone must take the burden, and she was at least trained to fight such battles. Other than Fairy Tail wizards, they had no other way to muster magic to contend with the Queen, other than…

No… it couldn't be…

"Drizzella," she muttered. "What color were Ella's eyes, exactly?"

The Agent raised an eyebrow. "Silver. Why do you ask?"

Winter nodded. "No reason."

Drizzella shrugged and exited the room, leaving the Schnee Specialist with her thoughts.

Silver-Eyes. Just like Ruby Rose. Ella Tremaine wielded immense power, and it made sense why General Ironwood had approved of her training even if he had been displeased by her kidnapping. A wizard capable of smiting an army of Grimm with a glance was an asset they could not afford to lose, no matter what ethical compromises haunted their consciences.

And yet, General Ironwood had only been made aware of the kidnapping after it was already done. So, COMMAND ESR and Eleanor couldn't have known about Ella's significance unless… they knew about magic.

She marched out of the room and made for the elevator. The General needed to be informed.

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Arthur Watts whistled as he floated into the dark recesses of his Mantle hideout. He stalked through the darkness until he came to a simple rugged chair set before a highly advanced computer, his own design of course. He did not work with anything less than the best.

His system flared to life with a soft hum. He connected a cable to his scroll and downloaded his newly acquired information inside.

With a few flicks of his keys, he compiled everything into an encrypted message and sent it to his ally along with a simple message.

"Operation Seeing Red is a complete success. From the point of origin, I was able to bypass Pietro's upgraded defenses and access the military's central grid. The Black Queen Virus awaits its sovereign's command."

He chuckled a bit at that. Cinder may have postured at being the Black Queen, but even she knew the title belonged to her teacher. How fitting that while their Fall Maiden had used a prototype to cripple Beacon, the Gate of the Maiden would use the complete version to take Atlas.

He waited a few moments until her reply.

"And the secondary objective?"

Watts smirked.

"Also, a complete success. The Winter Maiden's location and identity are ours."

Again, a few seconds and he received his reply.

"Excellent work, Watts. Now we move on to Phase Two."

The good doctor, the Gate of the Goat, grinned.

All too easy.

The aftermath of the White Fang's raid plays out. Weiss has the public adulation she aimed for, but her encounter with Adam has sent her on a tunnel-visioned warpath. she manages to trick her father's greatest shame out of him and lays bare her very risky threat/bluff. And when Schnees war, Atlas holds its breath. What comes next will shake the very foundations of the kingdom.

Meanwhile, Winter finds out a very interesting detail about the supposedly dead third Tremaine sister (I fully expect most of you know where I'm going with this but I will refrain from stating it outright just incase).

An extra huge thank you to my patrons: ArcherMcMuffin, Gregg Tracton, Keith Traction, Annaya Chan, Nora Okonus, Paula mandel, KefkaesqueXIII, Christian Howard, and SanyaBane.

Thank you for Reading! I hope you enjoy what comes next!

Go Forth and Conquer!