This man clearly had some kind of mental illness. Ozpin was a made-up thing, someone who didn't really exist, he was a fucking fantasy character, and yet...
"Why do you expect me to believe that at all? You look like him, sound like him, act like him, but what do you have that tells me you really are him?"
"I had a feeling you would do this, so I will admit, I don't have anything that proves who I am. However, I do have something from a friend who may just do that for me. However, I feel that a bedroom isn't an appropriate place to show it. Please, come with me."
He turned on the spot, leaving me dumbfounded that this intruder was now calling the shots.'
"H-hey!"
"Please, it will only take a moment. If you find yourself unconvinced you may do with me as you please, you have my word, Mr. Cortes."
He continued down the stairs, leaving me with that promise and myself to think, before I realized that he really wouldn't wait for me if I stood there like a jackass. Jogging to the stairwell, gun still in hand, I followed him to the garage on the ground floor, a room made of concrete and housing the highest ceilings in the house. I only prayed he didn't have a fucking bomb or something.
Out in the garage, as the cold swept over me, he turned on the lone light and moved to the center of the room, then faced me. In his right hand now was a bundle wrapped in cloth, large enough to be a suitcase of some kind. Where he had been hiding it, I did not know.
"Mr. Cortes, if you would not believe me, then please, believe Her."
With a flurry of movement, the cloth fell from the case and revealed a gleaming red and silver machine that sprang to life. With motions that blurred into each other, it exploded into a full structure. He held it in his hand like a staff, showing me what he really had. He had Crescent Rose.
"...Fuck."
"Well, what is your verdict? I have been told that nothing like this exists in your world, nor would it be possible to produce such a weapon for decades to come, maybe even centuries, yet here it is" the man said, pulling out the magazine and showing off the grotesquely large ammunition, then throwing it back into the housing and sending the bolt home. With a final heave, he planted the blade of the monstrosity into the floor, leaving a gigantic gash in the concrete and leaving the massive scythe to sit there, unbothered.
"You... you really are Opzin, aren't you?"
"That shouldn't be possible! You're here, in front of me… and yet, it defies all reality" I exclaimed. Before me stood a fantasy character, in the flesh, as a real human person. My mind was swirling, trying my best to figure out which odd-ass fairy tale I had found myself placed into, and what my next move should be. Any time I had ever seen someone have some kind of world-jump bullshit they never seemed to hold onto their wits, and I was not about to do that too. I wasn't sure if this was even as he told me. He looked and sounded the part disturbingly well, but I still wasn't fully convinced.
"Reality is is not nearly as concrete as people believe it to be, Mr. Cortes. In the end, it is difficult to overcome ourselves."
"Speaking of which... would you care to tell me what had to be overcome for you to get here? And what do you even need to talk to me so badly for?"
"I'd be more than happy to tell you over some tea and cocoa. We have much to discuss, and I've heard that having something to sip on eases your anxieties."
"Y-yes, it does, but… how did you know that?"
Ozpin did not say more as he moved to Crescent Rose, pulling it back out of the ground with freakish ease and returning it to his hand. He then simply walked back into the house with it in tow, leaving me there speechless. I looked to the hole in the floor, and then to my gun, realizing that even if I did have ammo, it would have been as useless as he said. I dropped it next to the sink nearby and walked back inside with him. I sat at the wooden table in the kitchen, the light still on from our previous encounter. Ozpin rummaged through the cabinets across the island of my kitchen until he found a sufficiently large mug and filled it with what appeared to be tea from a thermos I had failed to notice on his belt. Returning to me, he passed it into my hands and then took a seat opposite from me. I nodded in thanks to him, and then took a sip.
"Peppermint…"
"Your favorite, I was told. I figured you would appreciate it."
"Yes, as you were told… by who, exactly?"
Ozpin paused mid-sip from his own mug, his gaze boring deep into mine as his face turned solemn for the first time in the few short minutes I had known him.
"Your father."
I paused for a moment as he said this, confused as anything.
"Oh, uh, that's cool, I guess. Did you know him before he died? Business partner or something, checking up on me because you found out?"
Ozpin's eyes bulged when I said this like it was a surprise to him like he had no idea.
"Died? Oh, I wasn't... well, to answer your question, we are partners in a way, but not quite for business."
I was unsure what to say to him, he wasn't making any fucking sense. We are partners? My father had been dead for five years, his grave clear as day among the many others in the cemetery, I had personally seen his coffin sealed and lowered into the ground. I knew that he was gone, and nothing could bring him back, so why did Ozpin seem to be talking like he was about to walk around the corner?
"You aren't making any sense, nor are you actually answering my question, Ozpin."
Recovering from his sudden solemnity, he smiled and reached into his lapel and pulled out a small disc made of what looked like steel, banded with red material and with a clear glass dais in the middle. What is this guy, a fucking swiss pocket knife?
"Of course I'm not, that isn't what I came here to do. I had a message to deliver" he calmly said. Without pause, he dropped the disc onto the table, and a projection sprung to life in front of my eyes. At first, I saw nothing on the holographic image, but after what seemed like a booting sequence a video began to play. I saw a hospital room painted in pale orange color, small lanterns adorning both sides of a bed in which a frail man lay. He appeared to be in poor shape, IVs and monitors crossing every inch of his body, heavy amounts of gauze layering most of his visible skin. All the was visible of his form were small springs of disheveled brown hair in between the gauze and an eye that yet remained unwrapped. He had been through something severe, that was much obvious, but who he was remained a mystery.
"This was your idea, Lawrence, you should say something. It isn't exactly obvious the way you look right now" I heard Ozpin say in the recording, from behind the device he was holding. Moving the camera closer to the bed, he centered in on the man's face, or what was undamaged of it. Looking straight ahead, as if Ozpin weren't there, the man began to speak.
"Yeah, it was my idea, but I don't think I can do it. Having someone see me like this…"
It couldn't be…
"If you want to do this, you have to give me something."
Now looking into the camera, with a great sigh, the man looked right at me and spoke.
"Hey there… little man. I don't know how long it's been, or what really happened, my memory isn't great right now. I just want you to know, to know how sorry I am…"
At that, he didn't appear to be able to say any more before he choked up. With a clenched fist he slammed into the bed beside him, and the video cut out. Too stunned to do anything else, I teared up. My nickname by him, Little Man… it had been years since I'd heard anyone say that... since I'd heard my Dad say that.
"It… it's him… he's alive… HOW?" I shouted in between fresh tears. It didn't make any sense, none of this did, but the proof was right there. Could it have been a trick, maybe? Some kind of elaborate ruse to play with me? Maybe I had wronged someone, and they were putting their time and money into making me suffer, had spent some kind of small fortune on making that fucking scythe? That I could believe, but having the dead come back to life just didn't happen...
"I'm afraid that I do not have the answer to that question, but what you see is genuine. Lawrence Cortes lives."
I looked up at Ozpin and screamed all that was going through my head.
"JUST WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? Did someone pay you to do this, huh? Did some bastard I made fun of do this just to get even, is it a prank? Dress up as someone from a show I like and try to make me seem like a fucking idiot to get back at me? I'm not fucking stupid you know; I know better than this. Get out of my House, NOW, and stop wasting my fucking time."
At first, he said nothing to my outburst, only looking at me with a stern yet sorrowful expression. Taking a sip of his mug, he closed his eyes and thought for a moment while the tears continued to stream from my eyes. It had been five years, to be sure, but seeing what I had was still enough to bring me down like this. It would get easier as time went on but that didn't mean I could not feel what was in my heart.
"I knew that it would be like this. You are no fool, you said so yourself, but the words I say and the message I carry are genuine. I had predicted that you would not accept my word on its own, or maybe even not after the weapon. After all, why would you? You are better than to think that death can be so easily undone. So, I present to you one final piece of evidence. Here."
Again, reaching onto his belt, he threw to me what appeared to be a baseball. Catching it clumsily, I held it in my hand and immediately recognized it. Etched into the aged and brown cow skin were the names of a baseball team, all written in black sharpie marker. The most recognizable three were those of my father, my uncle, and my grandfather. In bold letters, one of them had written "Nittany Lions, County Championship Bracket, 1973". I tossed the small ball in my hands for a few moments before I began to tear up anew.
"How… how did you get this?" I whispered to Ozpin, or whatever his name was.
"Your father had this on his person when we first found him. He does not remember much about it, for many of his memories are clouded, but at the forefront of his mind were thoughts of his family. I myself did not know how he came to be until just now. Allow me to express my apologies for your hardship, Mr. Cortes. Had I known the truth of his disappearance I would have been much gentler in my approach."
In between my tears and ugly sobs, I responded, "We t-thought we had lost this, years ago… H-he had it in his hand when my m-mom f-found him on the floor… He said he was going to g-give it to me when I was older…"
"His last intentions in this world were to keep you close to him, then. When we found him in the middle of the forest, all he had on him was this ball. Long have we wondered what it meant, until now."
Without saying more, Ozpin moved over to me and wrapped his arms around my shaking shoulders. The display was awkward and cramped, but in the moment I couldn't care less. My perception of reality was crumbling all around me, in ways that I was still struggling to comprehend. My father was alive. How, or why, or where, I did not know, but it was enough. A hole in my heart that had long been seared open finally began to close, but how much did I dare to hope? How much of what Ozpin was telling me really true? He had proof, to be sure, but I did not know much of the man, and even less of his motives.
All that I knew for sure was that Ozpin was somehow connected to Dad. He knew of me and my family, and details of me, and that appeared to be it. I had seen Dad go into the ground, and yet there he was, and then there was Ozpin, his intentions still a mystery. I had to get to the bottom of this, one way or another. Wiping away tears from my eyes and detaching myself from Ozpin's embrace, I sat back down in my seat and stared into the last of my tea.
"Tell me everything" I demanded.
Nodding, Ozpin paced in front of me, cane in hand and mug laid down on the table, removed from his hand for the first time that night.
"It was a cold winter's night, not long after the beginning of the new year, when I received word of energy readings within the forest not far from Beacon. The readings were highly unusual, normally only found in the atmosphere when a particularly dangerous storm is headed in from the coast, but the skies were clear in any direction for hours. Not willing to leave it up to chance, I personally investigated. I began at the cliffside just beyond the campus and found the source of the readings. At the bottom of the cliffs, there was a man backed up against the rock ledge. My scanner confirmed that he was the source of that energy, and it was attracting Grimm from every direction. From what I could see, he was bleeding heavily, disoriented, unarmed, and desperate. I intervened but even from a distance, I could tell the man was an oddity. He could barely speak in sentences, he was wounded in multiple places, and exuded energy more foreign than any I had ever felt before. Later on, we found that he was the source of the readings we had detected."
Ozpin stopped behind the counter, looking off into the distance in a sorrowful list.
"I was afraid for his life, and I brought him back to the academy. I placed him in the care of our medical staff, but his wounds refused to heal. For weeks, even months, the gashes and eviscerations along his body would not close on their own accord. Stitches, glues, immunotherapies, even skin grafts, nothing would work. At one point we lost track of how much blood we had given him. We were forced to perform extreme surgery in order to save his vital organs due to the severe sepsis and necrosis, but his limbs… did not survive. Upon examination, his Aura was found to be highly unstable, emanating from his body similar to that of radiation. The nearby staff was protected from it by their own Auras, but one without such protections would likely have developed poisoning within minutes of being near him. We knew not what to do but to quarantine him on the upper levels. We consulted every medical professor in the world, and yet none could provide even a glimmer of hope. We were without any options and all the while he was only moderately lucid, coming in and out of delusions and comatose rants. But then, one day, that all changed."
With a deep breath, he returned his eyes to my own, continuing.
"He became lucid, was confused, aggressive even, demanding to know where he was and what had happened to his family. He, too, did not believe us when we told him where he was. It took two huntsmen to restrain him, but he nearly broke their spines in half during their struggle without laying a hand on them."
He chuckled morbidly, realizing his own joke as he spoke.
"I shudder to think of what would have happened if he had been possessed of his full body. When he awoke again, he appeared to be calm, and seemed like but a frail old man. He was inconsolable when he realized that he was alone and unable to remember anything about his past, save for small pieces related to his family. His strongest memories were about you, in fact. Over time we came to know more about each other, even became friends, and his memories returned in similarly small doses, but he was unable to recover large swathes of his life, in particular how he came to Beacon. He was grateful for the rescue, of course, but could not tell me how he got into that mess."
"Then, how in the hell are you here now?" I interrupted.
"We'll get to that, I promise. This is no small amount of tale to tell, I assure you."
He returned to the table for his mug and continued as he talked.
"For months, your father was a mystery to us all. He spoke and was mentally sound, but continued to bleed, continued to degenerate. We only had so much blood that we could give him, and much of the time he was forced to be kept in a coma in order to prevent him from dying of blood loss and tissue degradation. We feared that he would simply fall apart if we waited too long. His aura readings and a sudden bout of inhuman strength were outliers in his treatment, but they puzzled us, nonetheless. No amount of logic made sense until a student mentioned something to me in passing. Believe it or not, it was Miss Rose that presented the idea which led me here."
"Wait… as in Ruby Rose?" I interjected.
"The very same. You see, she makes a habit of visiting the wards on the weekends in order to cheer on those in recovery. As a school dedicated to battle, Beacon is usually full of students suffering some flesh wound or another. In her kind-heartedness, she ensures that no one feels alone when they are there. At my request, I had her meet your father during one of her visits in an attempt to cheer him up. After their meeting, she told me in passing that she had heard a fairy tale that reminded her of him and his dire circumstances. When she described it to me, I investigated the school's archives. In an ancient text, I came across the tale that Ruby had described, The Tale of the Unknown Soldier.
Within its pages, it described a man that could remember nothing of his life and went on a journey to discover who he was. In time, and as he encountered many different people in his journeys, he came to find that he was skilled in battle, aided by a strange and otherworldly power. However, every time that he used this power, he discovered that his wounds would heal less and less. Despite this limitation, the hero pressed on, using his power for good in any way that he could, until eventually, his wounds overcame him. When he met Death, he learned that he was sent to the world as a test of character; would he be selfish, and preserve his form, or would he sacrifice himself piece by piece in order to save others? As a reward for his selfless acts, he was granted eternal life among the stars as a constellation, always able to see how his good deeds impacted the world below. Those that knew him never knew his name, so he lived on in anonymity save for the great deeds he performed for the sake of others."
"So, what, my Dad is just going to keel over and die at some point? You're saying that he is some kind of otherworldly hero?"
"Not quite, Mr. Cortes. The childhood story does not mention this, but within the ancient tome, I found that there is a reference to the child of this soldier and the woman with whom the soldier fell in love. The story says that he was originally from a world not of our own, and his family yet remained there as a remnant of the life that the solider lived before he obtained his- "
Before he could continue, Ozpin stumbled on himself, hands bracing his forehead as if a wave of nausea washed over him. I reached out for him, but he stopped me before I could get up.
"No, it is fine. My time between dimensions is limited, and this is but a signal that I may have already lingered too long."
Ozpin shook his head and regained his focus, pacing anew as he spoke.
"As I was saying, the soldier had a family from his old life, but the soldier does not remember them until the very last day of his life. With the last bit of his power, he passed on his gift to his child and bids them to go to different worlds in his stead, to do good as he had when he left them. The story is incomplete, but it was enough to give me ideas."
"So… Dad is some mythical hero, and I'm the kid in the story?"
"That is what I am guessing, yes. I knew that you were out there, somewhere, so I assembled a team to hunt the land for proof. I spent months scouring Remnant for anything resembling you, but your father couldn't remember what any of you looked like. However, when we showed him photos of families, he was always insistent that they were not it. After a time, were forced to take drastic measures."
"What does that mean?"
"It meant finding a way to get to you, no matter where you were. I called upon every single engineer, physicist, and theoretical scientist I could gather to create a device that could bring me here, using your father's significant, yet unstable, aura as a vehicle. The effort was costly, but in the end, it bore fruit. With the aid of the vast resources of Atlas and the Schnee Corporation, we were able to create an experimental device that was meant to carry an individual to anyone, anywhere, even across the lines of space and time into another dimension if needed."
Ozpin stumbled again as he spoke, resting his entire body weight on his cane. The man looked even paler than he did before and began to shake slightly.
"I don't get it Ozpin, why spend all that time and money finding some old man's family? What's the purpose of it? How does this all relate to my Dad?"
He looked at me with purpose, with intent and design that I knew he had been waiting to communicate.
"There is a darkness moving across Remnant, Mr. Cortes. One that does not know mercy or restraint. It seeks to annihilate all life indiscriminately, and it will not stop until we stop it. I have been fighting it all my life, and it is not until now that I have had hope of victory against it. I believe that with you, that victory may be finally achieved. But, if that is not enough, there is a more personal stake for you; your father. We lack the means to stabilize his vast energies and think that you may be able to do that and save him from further degradation. In many ways, you are the key."
"What are you proposing, then? You want me to go with you and save the world?"
"Yes, I do. I possess a device that will allow me to bring you along for the ride, so to speak. I would bring you to beacon, help you learn to harness the power within, and bring it to bear as you see fit. However, I must stress that everything here is experimental. It nearly bankrupted an entire nation for me to be here now, and there is no guarantee that we will be able to return here once we leave. For all intents and purposes, this would be a one-way trip. I know I ask much of you, Mr. Cortes, but I must know that you fully understand what I say."
My head was swimming. If I left now, would I ever see my family again? Would I even get the chance to say goodbye? The way Ozpin was rushing, I could tell that we were rapidly running out of time. He needed someone to help him save the world, could I really do that? Could I even save myself if it came down to the wire? Not to mention, my Dad had left us without meaning to and broke our family apart… what would it do if I left, with every full intention?
"Ozpin… you do know what you're asking me, yes? You want me to peg notions of saving the world on untested tech, on literally zero guarantees that ANYTHING will work out the way either of us wants it to. You want me to throw away everything I have in this life, from my family to my very existence… and you're perfectly okay with all of that?"
He looked at me for a moment, contemplating my doubts. Without so much as a blink, he lowered his head.
"If truths are being told, I'm not. There are no guarantees that the legends are anything but that, and no real evidence to say that you and your father will do more than any other soldier could, but we are out of time, and out of options. If I were able to stem the tides of evil on my own, then reuniting you and your Father would be but a side project out of compassion, not desperation. Whether you return with me as a hero or as just another soldier for the fight, I ask you to stand with me, with the people of Remnant, against the Grimm and those who would see our world burn. Turn back the dusk, and usher in the dawn that we need."
I smiled at Ozpin's imagery. Say what you would about the man, he knew how to deliver an inspiring string of words.
"... again, what of my family? You want me to just leave them?"
"Come with me, and you have my word that I will do all that I can to bring you together. However, I must ask that you hurry. I do not think that we have much time left."
"I-I... I don't know!" I said suddenly.
I had much to consider, while Ozpin stood before me, barely able to stay standing. I got up from my seat and walked towards the door, uttering a simple "I'll be right back" before I left the green and grey man alone. Outside on the patio of my home, I felt the bright chill of the dark night air on my skin and looked up at the bright stars in the sky. If I was to believe Ozpin, and that legend, then Dad was up in that sky, eternally watching down on all of us. Religious beliefs notwithstanding, the thought was comforting to me as I closed my eyes and breathed in the chill deeply. It was easy in my reverie to ignore the subzero temperatures of the winter night, but even in my deep thinking about good and bad, right and wrong, heroes and villains, the force of the wind was enough to bring me back to reality with one strong gust. Looking up into the sky, I could not help but look to the North Star and smile.
"So, the old saying still holds, then… Even when I have nothing, I still have the wind at my back and the shine of the stars above. Thanks, Dad, I'll keep that in mind"
Hearing my Dad's old piece of advice ringing in my ears, I stepped back inside. I pulled out my cell phone and accessed the group chats with myself and my immediate family. Dialing the number for a group call, I waited for someone to pick up. Eventually, after some time, my Mother answered me.
"Hey, you okay?" she asked, slightly muffled by the party in the background and likely wondering why I was ignoring my own attempts at solitude to call her.
"Yeah, I'm okay Mom, I just wanted to wish you a happy new year before the ball dropped. I don't think I'll make it to midnight."
"What happened? Thought you wanted to get drunk and be up until 4 am this year?"
"Yeah…. The plan changed a bit, don't worry. I just wanted to call and say that I love you and the girls… so much."
"I love you too, my Son... Just remember, you make me proud, and I know that this year you're going to make me even prouder, okay? Don't be sad, just breathe and stay calm. I love you."
Tearing up, and sniffled and answered, "I love you too Mom, Happy New Year. Be safe, and be good, I'll see you in a little while. Bye"
With that I hung up, wondering if I had said enough to my Mother in what could potentially have been the last phone call I ever made with her. Before my guilt could dissuade me otherwise, I walked up to the rapidly declining Ozpin with more gusto than I remember having in a long time.
"I've made up my mind… I'm going."
"Are you… sure? There may not be any going back, Mr. Cortes, this is a gamble for you"
"I know what I'm getting into, Ozpin, now let's go before I change my mind."
He sized me up for a moment, likely unsure whether it was ethically reprehensible for him to allow me to leave my world behind at a moment's notice. However, he must have put his qualms aside and placed a hand on my shoulder weakly.
"Thank you. I believe you have made the right choice."
"For all that this will entail, let us hope so."
With likely little time to spare, Ozpin took the small hologram projector off the table that I had nearly forgotten about. Without missing a beat, he threw it down onto the ground in front of me. Where previously it displayed the recording of my father, now the device rooted itself into the floor with metallic spikes extending from all corners. After a small whirring sound, a round portal was projected from the device, casting a kaleidoscope effect across the room. Within the portal were various shades of colors that were indescribable, constantly changing, and diverse as I attempted to look. Ozpin took hold of my hand and looked at me intensely.
"Take a deep breath, close your eyes, and do not open them under any circumstances if you ever wish to see again. Grab hold of my hand, and do not let go. I will proceed through the portal first; you should be right behind me. Do not delay…. Are you ready, Mr. Cortes?"
Breathing deeply, I grabbed hold of his cold and clammy hand and nodded firmly. With meaning to his step, Ozpin walked through the portal until nothing remained by his hand. Following suit, I bid my world farewell and went behind him. However, unlike the peaceful way in which Ozpin had appeared to proceed in, I felt myself being violently tugged and sucked into the portal.
Before I even could remember to close my eyes, I found myself adrift, wholly at the whims of the Universe. What in the fuck had I gotten myself into, I began to wonder… until all hell broke loose.