A/N: Hi, folks. Terribly sorry for the rather bad delay in finishing this off - I've been extremely busy recently, new job and all that. So, without further ado, have the second part of the epilogue.
Disclaimer: After all this time, I'm afraid I still don't own RWBY. It belongs to Rooster Teeth.
Another poorly-hidden scowl, another grunt of disdain, another whispered conversation. Cinder noticed all of this and more as she stalked through the large warehouse and lobby of their base. She was not foolish enough not to understand what these signs were heading towards, nor was she particularly surprised after the last debacle some weeks before.
She was losing the White Fang.
Not in the sense of defection, of course. That little stunt Blake Belladonna had pulled had been a masterstroke in public relations from Beacon, and they had lost several members since, but those numbers were manageable. No, the bigger problem was the unfortunate situation that lead to that press conference, the battle that resulted in the capture of Adam Taurus and the loss of quite a sizeable force of White Fang members, and before that, the loss of the Lieutenant and another several dozen members when her trap was so unexpectedly turned on her by Roman Torchwick.
The White Fang were not pleased that they had taken such a beating, both in the field and in the public eye. They needed someone to blame. And she was that someone. In a way, they were correct – she did have some of the responsibility. Had she not underestimated Torchwick so badly, those defeats may not have happened. She would not make that mistake again.
She caught sight of Mercury and Emerald, now recovered from their injuries. "Good, you're here," Cinder remarked, "Into my office. We need to speak."
The two nodded and followed her into the rather spartan room, sparsely decorated but for a desk, a wheeled, reclining chair, and the back wall which was adorned with dozens of photographs, newspaper clippings, blueprints, maps and notes.
Cinder sank into her chair, before speaking. "As you are no doubt aware, we have a very big problem."
Mercury snorted. "That's putting it lightly."
Emerald nodded. "You'd have to be blind not to see our popularity around here has taken a nosedive."
"Indeed," Cinder frowned, "But we still need the White Fang's manpower. Three people can not prepare the train, nor can we find another reliable enough source of personnel."
"Do we even have enough Dust to blow the tunnels?" Emerald asked sceptically.
"We will have to make do," Cinder informed her, before she turned to Mercury, "Roughly how many bombs do you think we could make with what we have?"
Mercury looked thoughtful. "Maybe two, three at best? Am I right in thinking that you have a plan?"
She stood up, and walked over to the planning wall, and stared at the blueprint of the subway tunnels, and the map of the ground overhead. "Perhaps. I think... yes. I believe we can still do it, even with merely two bombs. It will, however, take some more work on our part."
"How so?" Mercury asked.
"We will need to time the two bombs to perfection," Cinder began, pointing out two locations on the blueprints, "Here, and here. That's where they need to go off."
Mercury regarded the locations thoughtfully. "Both beneath large, open spaces."
"Yes," Cinder agreed, "That is where we can gather together the most Grimm before we set off the explosives."
Mercury nodded, "How will we gather enough Grimm together?"
Cinder smiled. "Oh, that part is easy. What is the best way to lure in an animal?"
Emerald spoke up. "You use bait?"
"Yes," Cinder's eyes lingered on a photograph of Beacon Academy, "Precisely."
Mercury followed her gaze, and his eyes widened, before he smirked in realisation. "That's perfect – but how will you get them to bite?"
"With more bait," Cinder said mysteriously.
He stared at her, nonplussed, before shaking his head. "Well, you've got that part set up, but it doesn't change our other problem. What do you want us to do about the White Fang?"
Cinder's smirk turned to a frown. "That is something I have given a large amount of thought to. I've gone over our options, and the way things are, I fear there's only one thing we can do to keep the White Fang's loyalty."
"And what's that?" Emerald asked eagerly.
"To put it plainly?" Cinder said simply, "We are going to organise a prison break."
The new place was really starting to shape up.
While they weren't ready to start installing Junior's old equipment just yet, they did have the walls and flooring, smooth and flat for the perfect dancing surface, put in, as well as the basic structure of the bar itself – which Roman was currently leaning on as he took what he felt was a well-earned break.
Between overseeing the construction of his new business headquarters, and reaching out to Junior's large network of contacts to inform them of the change of leadership and ensure their continued commitment to the cause, Roman rarely had time to relax. It was almost like hard work. Or, at least, what he imagined hard work was like, never having experienced it for himself.
Neo sighed beside him. As his business partner and bodyguard, she had naturally been just as busy as he had over the last couple of weeks.
"I know," he groaned, "But just think of the end-game."
"..." she grumbled.
"Yes, it's definitely going to be worth it. I mean, come on, look around you," he indicated the partly-furnished interior, "Think of how this place will look when it's done? And it'll be all ours."
"It is something of an impressive sight already, I must admit."
Roman's blood ran cold. Neo whirled around sharply, before she froze, suddenly looking very pale.
"Oh dear," Headmaster Ozpin said in bemusement, "I fear for my position as a head of education if this is the reaction I inspire in the youth of today."
Neo's hand began inching toward her parasol.
"We both know that will not end well, young lady," Ozpin told her gently.
Sweating, she nodded, hand dropping down to her side.
"What are you doing here? How did you even find this place?" Roman asked in bewilderment, "Wait, is this about the email? Because I'd like to make it clearly known that I never would have written half of that if I knew there was any chance whatsoever of me actually talking to you face-to-face."
Ozpin chuckled. "No, Mr. Torchwick. I am not so petty as to respond to insulting emails with personal visits. As for how I found you, I would simply have you trust that I have my ways."
Roman would have breathed a sigh of relief, if not for the fact that he was still fairly sure there was a distinct possibility of him ending up in jail by the end of this conversation. "That doesn't give me much of a clue as to why you're here."
"I merely wished to meet with you," Ozpin hummed, "After all, you have been surprisingly invaluable in dealing with a particularly dangerous threat to the City. That is certainly not the norm for petty criminals, and I hope you believe me when I say that I have known many in my time."
"Yeah, well," Roman said non-committally, "Profit and self-preservation are surprisingly good motivators."
"Indeed," Ozpin agreed, "Your successes have made me aware that a man of your... particular talents," he paused, "Can be remarkably useful. And the threat is still at large."
"...Woah, hold on. You want me to work for you?" Roman stared, surprise overcoming his initial fear.
"Perceptive, but I expected that of you," Ozpin smiled, "I do not want you to work for me. I merely wish to ensure you continue to be a thorn in the side of our mutual enemy."
"That crazy fire-throwing witch," Roman muttered, "Yeah, I'm not really seeing why I should go out of my way to tangle with her now. I've gotten what I wanted out of this whole thing... the Dust robberies have stopped, she's got so much heat on her that I doubt she can poke her head out the door of wherever she's holed up without a squad of Huntsmen dropping on her, and I've basically taken over the city's 'interesting side'. If I keep taking risks and going after her the way I have been, it's only going to reduce my chance of keeping my head... in short," he said carefully, still keenly aware that he was on thin ice here, "How do I benefit from keeping this little shadow game going?"
"This threat is larger than just one woman," Ozpin informed him simply, "In fact, this may be part of a conspiracy that threatens the stability of all the Kingdoms. On top of that, I'm sure you are not foolish enough to assume that Miss Fall and her group will be willing to simply leave you be after the rather decisive blows against them you have been instrumental in orchestrating. Of course, if even that doesn't convince you..." Ozpin trailed off, "Well, in return for your cooperation, I may decide to... overlook, certain matters that may come to my attention."
Roman mulled over the offer. Ozpin would occasionally look the other way, and protect him from Cinder's inevitable vengeance (which, admittedly, had been a major concern for him, despite the preparations he had already made), and in return, all he had to do was keep poking the crazy pyromaniac with a stick. On top of that, if her ultimate goal was what Ozpin implied it was... he pulled a cigar from his pocket, and placed it in his mouth.
"A threat to the stability of all the kingdoms, you say?" he sighed, lighting the cigar and taking a deep drag, "That... sounds very bad for business."
Fin
That's all for now, folks.
See you... possibly in a couple of months when Volume 3 comes out, or possibly sooner if I think up enough material not to need it in that time period, but I'll definitely see you!
Keep an eye out for the sequel, and also, if you enjoyed this, please keep an eye out for any other stories I may put out in the meantime.
And once again, thank you all for your great reviews and interest.
Yours awkwardly but sincerely,
RumbleintheDumbles
P.S. Or not quite yet!
In the library of Beacon Academy, a team of four first-year students went about their day.
"Say..." Jaune pondered, "Are any of you guys getting the feeling that we've somehow missed out on a load of really important stuff happening?"
"Nope," Nora supplied cheerfully.
"I'm afraid not," Ren shook his head.
"Nor me," Pyrrha spoke up, looking at Jaune curiously, "Why do you ask?"
"Eh," Jaune shrugged, "Just a feeling. Must be nothing."
Fin