7-3: Precipice

The man held back a sigh.

As much as he liked having a "bird's eye view" of a given situation, Qrow preferred it more in the metaphorical sense, rather than a literal one. After all, if it was just metaphors, than it meant that he knew exactly what sort of troubles to expect, what sort of escapes to employ, and what sort of people needed to be dealt with. Unfortunately, there were no metaphors here, only a giant mess that threatened to grow even worse.

By now, the fighting had died down. The larger grimm was losing, barely able to keep up its struggles as fractured crystals dotted its back. Its veins of dust or whatever were no longer glowing, having long since dimmed into a barely perceptible spark. And it wasn't just the giant headache had calmed down, either. Most of the smaller grimm had either fallen or fled, and it seemed like the company boys had finally gotten the situation under control.

His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the fort from above, knowing exactly what that meant. Besides a few select people, Qrow simply didn't trust anyone here as far as he could throw them. But, considering Ozpin had kind of sent him out here in secret, he couldn't even do that. Even if they were in the middle of confiscating that strange metal spike thing, the huntsman simply couldn't do anything without making things worse.

Which was why he wore as scowl as he stared down on the ruined fort from the private bullhead. The airship wasn't his, of course, nor did it belong to the resident Ice Queen either. No, the vehicle was under the command of a friend of Ozpin's, which was about the only stroke of good luck he'd encountered in this entire operation. Well, that and the fact that the White Fang under their custody had actually one of the more reasonable groups of their organization.

Okay, Ex-White Fang. Ozpin better be happy about that; convincing them had been a headache and a half.

They had been really adamant about certain things that, in the grand scheme of things, honestly didn't matter. For example, the entire 'negotiation' for their safety had been a painfully dull and painfully involved formality. Of course Ozpin wouldn't publicly arrest them the moment they joined up—he was the Headmaster of Beacon! Nor would he suddenly decide that they'd be required to mass murder a bunch of faunus because, once again, Ozpin was the damned headmaster of Beacon.

... Qrow forced himself to calm down, his hand slipping into his coat as he retrieved his familiar flask. As ridiculous as those questions might've been, he knew that he couldn't exactly fault them for it. He had come to know all sorts of people in his line of work, and a very vocal part of him couldn't help but wonder if they had been asking from experienced. It was still ridiculous, sure, but... people had a way of being terribly ridiculous.

In a bad way.

"Are you absolutely certain your... superior will honour the deal?"

Fortunately for his sanity, rather than bad, the ex-White Fang who stood beside him was ridiculous in a more redundant kind of way. She had a wary expression, not bothering to hide her suspicions of the man as she looked at him with guarded blue eyes. All things considered, it was actually the smart decision to make, and he probably would've felt the same way if he was in her position.

But he wasn't, and this was getting tiresome.

"For the last time, yes." The huntsman resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he turned away from the open door of the Bullhead, his motions deliberately exaggerated as he settled his eyes on the Faunus woman. And the condescending tone he carried in response contrasted her suspicions, the scythe-wielder gave her a single exasperated sigh as he stared at her. "What part of 'Headmaster of Beacon' do you not understand?"

"The part where we openly trust his intentions without any reasonable justification." To her credit, she didn't seem to falter at his sarcastic outburst, choosing instead not to acknowledge it at all. "This is not the first time an alleged representative from a major organization sought to use us."

"Yeah, okay, but that was before your leaders decided to pull off a public execution." He dropped his mocking tone, his eyes narrowing as he threw her a single glance. Okay, that might've been a low blow, but at the same time, Qrow didn't care. He wasn't Ozpin's PR guy, and at the moment, his only concern was to make sure there were absolutely no issues with their arrangements. "So I'm sure you can see that things are just as risky for Ozpin as they are for you guys. Which is why he has absolutely no reason not to go back on his word."

"But-"

"Iris."

Whatever protests she might've had were quickly silenced by the big guy in the room. And he was big. Qrow turned his attention over to the faunus, who had decided to sit on the floor of the airship, rather than one of the seats. And the man, in turn, kept his attention on the huntsman, slitted amber eyes staring directly at his own red ones. After a few moments, his gaze shifted to the woman beside Qrow, his voice low and measured as he spoke out. "I appreciate your concern over these matters, but it's okay. We have little choice but to trust them."

"But Captain!" The woman, Iris apparently, raised her voice in worry, but her words were quickly cut off as the man raised his hand.

"Please, Iris. I'm not a Captain anymore." Qrow raised a brow at the faunus as he said those words. It was clear that he had spoken them with regret, but the huntsman wasn't sure whether it was due to leaving the White Fang, or what the White Fang had become. But, once again, it didn't matter to the red-eyed warrior, so he merely shrugged, turning his attention back t-

"And besides, I doubt Qrow Branwen is the type of person who would openly use such a prominent name like Ozpin, just to betray us afterwards. I understand that he's more direct."

"Now that's an interesting thing to say." The huntsman's eyes narrowed. This time, he turned his body to face the ex-Captain, crossing his arms over his chest as he leant back against the metallic interior of the Bullhead. "You're right, though. But what I want to know is how you figured that out. I don't recall giving you my name, Mr. Captain."

"Just call me Owen... Mr. Huntsman." Despite his words, the Faunus maintained a neutral expression as he returned Qrow's words. Both the look on his face and his general body language were passive, making no effort to do much except talk as he continued sitting there. "And you're right. You didn't. I just know of your reputation, Mr. Branwen, and let's just say you have a very... distinctive way of introducing yourself."

Qrow snorted as the faunus gave his weapon a deliberate glance, a smirk flashing on his face as he kept his attention on the faunus. "Sure, let's say I do. But even still, there's just one thing I want to ask you about..."

The huntsman rose from the wall, slowly stepping forward to the seated faunus, his amused smirk gradually fading away to a serious tone as he drew closer.

"I don't exactly make it a habit to show up on the news. And I don't exactly see the White Fang as the type of people to keep a huntsman fan club, either." It was the faunus's turn to shift in expression, his face growing a bit stern as the huntsman approached. Qrow noticed this, of course, but said nothing as he walked closer. The woman made an attempt to block him off, but a quick glance from both the huntsman and the Captain put a stop to that.

And after a few moments, Qrow stood in front of Owen, an inquisitive expression on his face stared down at the ex-White Fang. "So how exactly do you know about me?"

"I suppose you could say... From a mutual acquaintance." The Captain spoke the words so simply, that Qrow couldn't help but break his expression, his eyes widening slightly at the sudden admission. And he could tell from the man's tone that he wasn't joking or anything like that, either. Which only meant one thing.

"How exactly do you kn-"

And then he was struck by a low-velocity field pack.

No, really. He never got a chance to finish his question, as someone decided to interrupt by throwing a mass of treated fabric at his face. Qrow caught the bag before it fell on the floor, staring at it for a few moments before turning to the source of where it came from, an angry scowl on his face. That scowl deepened when he saw Winter Schnee staring back at him, wearing a slight frown of her own as she glared at him. "Seriously, Ice Queen? What do you think you're doing?"

"I should be asking you that." The woman's tone was just as grating as usual. Part of him had been worried that she might've calmed down a bit, given their situation, but it was good to know that she was the sort of huntress who found anger in all things. "And I know you're not mentally trying to insult me, because as foolish as you may be, you're at least intelligent enough to understand how you messed up."

Okay, what? Storming in and throwing a bag at him is one thing. But insulting him and his job? Qrow gave Winter a deadpan look, standing completely still as he stared at her. "... Oh, sure. Of course. I should've let the corporate mercenary commander try to talk with them. Or the single huntress who's got closer ties to the head of SDC than SDC itself. I'm sure that would've gone much better."

"Not that, you dolt!" Winter's voice snapped back with irritation as she stared at him. Okay, what? She wasn't yelling at him about that, then what exactly was she worried about? His answer came quickly, however, as the woman drew out an exhausted sigh. "...In case you forgot, you didn't arrive here through official means. And now that the battle is dying down, you need to make yourself scarce before people notice you."

"Wait, what?" Qrow blinked, a blank look on his face as he slowly turned to the faunus in the airship cabin, before turning back to the Ice Queen. "We're not getting a ride?"

"Of course not! Don't you think it'd be a bit suspicious if the Commander's Bullhead suddenly decides to make an unannounced trip to Vale?"

He... never thought about it that way.

And judging by the fact that everyone's expressions were growing more worried, he was doing a bad job of hiding that fact. No that it was his fault! He had to juggle all sorts of stuff, from communicating stuff to Ozpin, to relaying messages to mysterious couriers, to answering Tai's worries about Yang's growing interest in boys! Though, to be fair, that last one was kind of important. Either way, they couldn't blame him for forgetting something as small as travel accommodations, right?

"Are we going to be okay?"

Iris spoke up, shooting a worried glance towards the huntress. At the same time, the rest of her associates shared the same concern, their eyes falling to the huntress as each of the four White Fang waited for her response. And the worst part about all this? Winter returned their stare with a resigned look. As if she had absolutely no faith in-

"You have my condolences."

"Hey!" Qrow immediately shouted in defiance, throwing a glare at Winter before turning his attention to the rest of the faunus. "Just ignore Winter over there. I guarantee we'll get to Beacon just fine. Look, just because we can't get a ride there doesn't mean he can't drop us off somewhere near the Kingdom's outskirts. I know for a fact that there's a nearby port town that we can get into without much trouble. From there, it's just a few favours and a short hop into Vale proper."

The man nodded matter-of-factly as he confirmed the thoughts in his head. Yeah, this was still a good plan. The Security Officer could probably just land near one of the firebases to drop them off, using resupply or inspection as an excuse for the sudden visit. Then, they'll just head over to Everblue Port and hitch a ride on the next ship out to Vale or Patch. Yeah... yeah, this could work out. With a smile and a nod, Qrow mentally congratulated himself for his quick thinking, before flashing a confident smirk towards Winter.

"So yeah, what do you think about that, Ice Queen?"

For some reason, the entire room fell silent. The shift in tone made absolutely no sense, and the huntsman's expression faltered as his eyes fell to the four faunus. Why exactly were they avoiding his gaze now? Why was Winter shaking her head and muttering to herself? Why wa-

"What do I think? Well, Qrow, I think you just repeated the plan that we had established half an hour ago." And as she muttered those words, she turned her attention to face the huntsman proper, not even putting in the energy to look irritated as she just stared at him. "Were you earnestly not pay attention to a single word that we said?"

"...Oops?"

Beneath his mask, Noximilien Coxen grinned.

How could he not? For once, things were going well for him. Granted, if he compared his current situation to the all the events that had occurred over the past week, it was a minor stroke of fortune that barely made up for the maelstrom of trouble that fate had thrown at him. There was no avoiding the fact that he had spent the better part of the week to build up his base, only to lose it all in a single day. Not only that, but his Wakfu reserves had been severely diminished, no doubt stolen by the gods when they had decided to destroy his Dial.

And yes, he was quite certain now that it was the gods, rather than the local female warrior, who had shattered his base of power. Perhaps it had been a mistake to create a focal point like his dial. While the Energies of Creation were instrumental for his activities in the World of Twelve, it was also through that power that they had exiled him here in the first place. And since the nature of Wakfu meant that it'd naturally flow and connect entities if given the opportunity, it wasn't unreasonable to suggest that his Dial could've, in some way, been used by those accursed gods as a beacon for their influence.

Whatever the case may be, that line of thought was irrelevant to the Xelor at the moment, and he mentally pushed those theories aside as he turned his attention back to the matter at hand. After all, the important thing wasn't that his previous bastion had fallen, but what he had accomplished since then.

Firstly, his Noxine's foray into the town was as fruitful as he could've hoped for. Not only had the Xelor been correct about the town being a veritable hub of activity, he had also gained some interesting insight as to how the locals seemed to function as a society. The most curious thing he found was that, despite the settlement's proximity to the shadow beasts' borders, the town itself was as calm as some dopey hamlet in Bonta or Amakna. People continued walking the streets without worry, visiting vendors or just chatting amongst themselves as they completely ignored their garrison's conflict with the shadow beasts.

Which simply made the rest of his expedition that much more trivial, as it had allowed him to observe the day-to-day activities of the border town without reproach.

What he found most interesting about this particular town was, understandably, its port. When Nox had found not one, not two, but twelve massive vessels docked on the coastal town's expansive port, he knew that the settlement was important. In terms of size, the ships had far exceeded anything he knew of in the World of Twelve. Not only that, but a few of the ships were dedicated transport vessels as well, if the large crates they carried were any indication, which only further piqued the Xelor's curiosity. Whether the town was their final destination for these ships, or simply an inconsequential stop, it was clear that the coastal town was part of some larger economic link. He had picked an interesting place to settle down.

Which brought him to the his second reason for being so pleased. As close as he was to the settlement, he was still in the wildlands between human and shadow beast territory. The humans' developmental efforts stopped the moment it reached their walled perimeter, and the shadow beasts never created permanent structures at all. As a result, since neither side seemed particular interested in expanding to the surrounding areas, his Noxines had free reign to search the hills and cliffs for anything that caught his eye.

And what had caught his eye was a hidden cave entrance, tucked away at the base of an unassuming hill.

While it was a fair distance away from the coastal time, it was a distance that his machines could still largely ignore. Not only that, but the entrance to the cavern itself had been obscured from view, hidden from nearly all angles by dense foliage and rocky outcroppings. From a distance, the entrance was no more conspicuous than the rest of the rampant wilderness, and was one he wouldn't have noticed were it not for his numerous Noxines. All in all, it was an interesting choice of residence, and one that the Xelor certainly found promising.

Which was why he was now currently exploring the cavern depths. Nox's mask flickered as he made his way through the dark corridors, the dull glow of Stasis permeating through the tempered glass as he peered deeper into the cavern. It was dark, certainly, but the Xelor had never been one to be hindered by something as trivial as darkness, and rather than feel any sense of trepidation, all the man felt was a feeling of contentment.

His approval rose the moment he found where the tunnel had led to, the dark passage giving way to a much larger room within the cavern. Sure, it wasn't quite the same as his previous stronghold, but the fact remained that the cavern was large enough to house all manner of things. But as the Xelor scanned the room, his violet glow piercing into the vast darkness, he realized that the depths stared back at him with cold, crimson eyes.

Well, that and a curious orange glow that hung above the many red orbs.

Curiosity filled the Xelor's mind as he appraised the shadow beast, as the creature had been the first one he'd witnessed to adapt such a distinctive feature. To the best of his knowledge, the stingers of the shadow scorpions weren't luminescent... were they? Perhaps he just didn't notice it before. After all, he had never gotten much of a chance to study those particular creatures; unlike the boars or wolves that flocked to his precious establishment, most of the larger arthropods had opted to distance themselves from him. So really, there was the simple possibility that all scorpions had such a distinctive feature in their oversized stinger.

An interesting observation, to be sure, and possibly one that could be exploited at a later date... but for now, Nox had the rest of the cavern to explore. And since the shadow beast itself made no effort to bother him, seemingly content to leave him to his devices, Nox conferred it the same gesture. Without giving the creature another thought, Nox turned his attention to the end of the room, slowly making his way around the dark silhouette as he-

Without warning, the beast lashed out, evidently less intelligent than he had been led to believe.

In one smooth motion, the shadow creature brought down its massive claw, bone-white and deceptively fast as it attempted to quash the Xelor. But as fast as the creature was, Nox was quicker, as the man bolted between the giant scorpion's two imposing pincers.

Curiously, the beast was ready for this, its motions almost practiced as it brought its golden stinger downwards. And just like the scorpion's claws, the creature's tail was unexpectedly swift in its execution. Which, in turn, meant that its motions were unerringly fast, the tail itself was obviously already meant to be an instrument of execution as it aimed straight for Nox's face.

But in a test of speed, the Xelor was no slouch. And fueled by this world's Powder Fuel, Nox had all the things needed to meet the creature's attack head on. The room flared with a crimson light as Nox consumed the energies, forcing up a shell of burning stasis around him that deflected the beast's stinger with a golden spark. There was no surprise in the monster's eyes as it immediately bolted backwards, bringing relevance to its massive pincers once more.

A futile gesture. They weren't a threat to him when he had been unprepared, so what hope did the stupid beast have now that Nox expected those claws? Rather than withdraw and attempt to reposition himself, the Xelor chased the scorpion down. The air crackled as the Xelor surged forward, with a fiery spark that left only a trail of embers in his wake, lighting up the dark cavern as he closed the distance between himself and the insolent fool.

Whether the beast had anticipated this or not was irrelevant to him, and Nox spared the creature no further thoughts as he drove his armoured fist directly between its beady eyes. The blow was more than enough to stun the beast, and the subsequent surge of raw stasis that followed crushed what little resistance remained.

And just like that, the incident was dealt with. As the creature slowly faded into smoke, Nox shifted his attention elsewhere, already putting the issue of the shadow scorpion aside as he surveyed the room once more.

After all, for that brief moment when he lit up the room, when he had struck the simple-minded beast with his final attack, Nox had noticed something. That in itself was cause for concern since, besides the shadow beast and a few rock pillars, his stasis-fueled equipment hadn't noticed anything particularly notable when he first entered the room. Once more, the Xelor invoked his power, conjuring a flame this time as he burned away the darkness.

Oh. Oh dear.

Nox frowned.

There was a reason why he hadn't noticed the item before. And that reason was more than enough to put a dampener on the Xelor's mood, quickly quashing the previous optimism that he carried when he first entered the cavern. Really, he should've expected it. All the warning signs were there, and recent events have left the man without a chance to remedy his long-standing issue.

As if to confirm his worries, Nox instinctively clenched his fist, the lens of his mask narrowing as he released a tired sigh. He had messed up.

Looking back at it, he really should've spent more time consolidating his position. Rather than his short-sighted attempt to study his new environment, he should've tried to construct a basic foundation for his efforts on this world. Resources, local topography, potential threats... Rather than recreating his Dial and reasserting his dominance, he should've established those first. Really, what had he been thinking, just researching like that without a logistical base? At the end of it all, what did he ultimately achieve?

Sure, he gained knowledge of Powder Fuel and its crystalline form, but it was clear by now that the resource was not necessarily a scarce one. And in exchange, he lost half his Wakfu reserves, the entiriety of his left focusing arm, and caused more damage to what little remained of his harness.

Damage that had, it seemed, finally caught up with him. The Xelor raised his hands, releasing another exhausted sigh as his vision confirmed his fears, his attention slowly turning to the wall where he had spotted the anomaly.

And wedged into the cavern wall were the remains of his Wakfu harness, fragments of metal and crystal splintered into the earth, leaving his bandaged hands completely unarmoured and completely exposed.

This could be... problematic.

Colonel Ironwood narrowed his eyes as he read over the latest report.

The report in question wasn't an update from research associates, brilliant men and women who oversaw many of the numerous projects he had proposed to Atlas. Nor was it a status report from the operatives he had under his command, a number that had been growing with suspicious frequency and ease the more projects had been approved.

No, this particular report was far more important than any of those. It was a report from Ozpin.

He never forgot the conversation they had shared almost a week ago, back when the entire incident had first started. Back then, when it had started off as a simple leaked video recording with disconcerting ramifications, the situation had still seemed manageable. Difficult to contain, perhaps, but still a problem they could feasibly contol. And back then, his old friend had hoped to be covert about matters, having entrusted the task of identifying the nature of the incident to the capable hands of Qrow, just as he had done with Winter.

But even back then, Ironwood had been worried. Sending two huntsmen, qualified as they might've been, was simply not enough to reassure their peers and superiors. However, in spite of that fact, that was all the Headmaster of Beacon had planned to do. Ozpin didn't seem to notice the growing concerns that many political leaders had started to voice—or perhaps he did, and simply chose to ignore them. Either way, rather than act, his friend had actually tried to stop him from acting, all be cause he didn't want to escalate the situation.

Then, the White Fang happened, and escalation occurred anyways. The Kingdom's collective concerns over the 'phenomenon' changed overnight, as reserved anxiety quickly grew into a barely muted panic when the Kingdoms realized that the White Fang had intended to establish themselves through any means necessary. Outright militarization of any group was never a good thing, and with an organization as controversial as the White Fang, there was little doubt that their days ahead would be plagued with troubles.

He had hoped that their troubles would've been abated somewhat when word came up about the Corporate Alliance's Expeditionary army victory in the southern wilderness at Vale. Foolish in hindsight, but at the time, he had secretly hoped that the event had dealt with their two problems in a single blow. After all, they had struck at a White Fang fortress, and disabled a mysterious technological weapon that had been hidden until now, right?

If only it were that simple.

Instead the very first reports he had read spoke of Dust-infused grimm. Never did he imagine to hear such things again, the ghosts of Mantle long buried by history. Yet, that it seemed that those ghosts had returned, with a vengeance far greater than any they had seen in the past. A single beast had been enough to fight the entire coalition force to a standstill.

And while that monster eventually fell, Ozpin's report gave him the impression that that was the least of their worries. Ozpin never stated it directly, of course, but the colonel had been friends with the man long enough to understand how to read his tone. And the tone that he had written this latest message could only be described as bleak.

Something needed to be done.

And, for once, Ironwood was in a position to do it. The man looked up from his desk, a resolute expression in his eyes as he pressed a few buttons on his console. A few moments later, he was greeted by the sight of an old man garbed in a pure-white lab coat, an image that James had always found familiar to him. The old man wore a strained expression on his face, his attention directed elsewhere was he shouted at someone off-screen. But the moment he turned back to face him, the man brightened considerably, his full white beard shifting as he smiled at the man.

"Well well, if it isn't James. I certainly didn't expect a call from you so soon."

For an instant, the aged scientist's smile seemed strained as he stared at him, a slight twitch of stress appearing at the corner of the old man's lips. However, that quickly moment passed, falling away to the man's usual grin. With that said, Ironwood didn't exactly miss that discrepancy, his brow raised in concern as he sent a worried glance at the older man. Which was met with an almost immediate chuckle.

"Oh, come on, don't think I don't know why you've decided to call. As senile as I may be, I still try to keep up current events. I hope you know that you're not the first Atlesian official who called to try and to curry favour with me. The last guy thought he could hire my smarts at a silly price of, and a quote, 'a life's supply of dust'. Joke's on him, though! I pretty much have that already."

The man nodded, more to himself than anything as he turned back to the labs behind him, countless machines whirring and glowing beneath a florescent glow. "... And really, a life's supply doesn't mean much when you've been around as long as I have. But enough about me! What can I do for you?"

"Well, Professor-"

"Ahp! What did I tell you about calling me that?" A sudden finger shot up as the old man spoke out, a smirk on his face as he stared back at Ironwood. "I haven't been your professor for a long time, James. and I doubt you're calling me for the sake of Nostalgia, either, so let's try this again, shall we?"

Ironwood nodded, closing his eyes for a moment as he took in a deep breath, slowly organizing his thoughts. When he opened them, he found the old man staring seriously back at him, no doubt noticing his apprehension, both individuals slowly discarding pleasantries as he began to talk. "It's about the last thing I discussed with you, before your current job as researcher. You know, before the Knight initiative"

"I see." The old man's beard seemed to bristle, his wrinkled eyes growing cold as he started at the man. "You can't be serious. I thought I told you everything wrong about that stuff the last time you brought it up."

"I am serious. And I took your lessons to heart." Ironwood's eyes met the old man's, implacable as he stared at the old Headmaster of Atlas Academy. "The reason I'm calling isn't because I want to dredge up that mistake, but because of what you said afterwards."

"Afterwards?" Confusion filled the man's face as he slowly leaned back, his disapproval slowly being replaced by wary curiosity. "Come now, James, I'm the old man here. Being deliberately obtuse is my job. What exactly do you mean by afterwards?"

"...When you told me that what I hoped to do was impossible, you made it abundantly clear that this world had absolutely no place for Mantle's old research." The Colonel's voice was slow and measured as he repeated those words, pulling them forth from a distant memory as he stared at the man. "That you would personally make sure no one else could find those notes again. That you burned them to the last."

"Yes. And I stand by that." The man stared back, his own voice full of conviction as he stared at the Atlesian Colonel.

"Well... I'm calling because I have reason to believe that someone else found them." The disbelief that spread on the man's face was immediate, a wary reaction that slowly gave way to worry as Ironwood kept his eyes fixed on the old Headmaster. For a moment, he saw the man's face flashed between worry, anger, and dread, only to settle on a solemn expression as he stared back at him. It was a reaction that Ironwood had suspected his old teacher would've had, but one he needed to verify for himself.

"You..." The old man tried to speak, but his tone carried far less energy than earlier, and he held himself back as his wrinkled eyes settled on the colonel. After a few moments, he released a sigh, shoulders sagging as he turned his entire body to face the holo display. And for once, his voice sounded his age, far less pronounced than happy old man that James had once been accustomed to. "You're not joking, are you?"

"No, I'm not." But Ironwood was old in his own way, and the weariness in his voice matched the tone of his old mentor. "And the only solution I can think of is still years away from development. Please Professor... I know you don't usually involve yourself in things like this... But the people of Atlas needs your help."

"If you're not joking, James, then all of the Kingdoms need our help."

Ironwood flinched at that assessment. But, at the same time, he couldn't disagree, and the Atlesian Colonel's chest was heavy he stared back at the old man.

"...Very well. What did you have in mind?"