A World of Wild Wild Evolution

by erttheking

Life in Remnant is about to change. Courier number 6 investigates something wrong at the isolated Big Mountain research facility and has his life turned upside down. Inspired by Light at the End by BlindingPhoenix

16. Alea iacta est

Chapter 14

Alea iacta est

XXXXX

Winter couldn't believe her eyes. Han was holding his body with the strength and energy of someone a quarter his age. But even that was nothing compared to the cannons slung under his arms. They both had a strange, tube design to them. It was a design very similar to that of the LAERs that Atlas had recovered from the Legion. The implications were staggering. James being an interdimensional traveler was a concept she barely accepted, the presence of such otherworldly technology was the only reason she believed half of his claims. And yet here was a man who was utilizing this very same technology? How?

Her eyes darted down. Questions would have to wait. She didn't have time to focus on Han. James was a mess. He was still leaning against the tree, pistol in hand, looking as if it was taking every last ounce of strength he had to stay conscious.

His wounds were utterly horrific to look at, filling even her seasoned stomach with bile. His left eye was gone, simply gone. The only evidence it had ever been there was the torn eye socket that was now a black hole, and the loose thread of optic nerves that dangled feebly out of the bottom. But that had only been the impact point of the spear, it had traveled up towards the edge of his face.

Everything left of his ruined eye had been burnt to a raw red, bordering on black. She had an unobstructed view into his jaw, his tendons, teeth and the surrounding jawline naked as a disturbing combination of spit and blood dribbled out of it. James appeared to have bitten his tongue without realizing it. The burn marks did not so much end as suddenly stop at his ear. Or rather, where his ear had used to be.

The tear was not a clean one, to the point where his ear had been ripped off, not cut. A tiny bit of his earlobe was still attached, flapping in the wind, a bright pink as opposed to red or black. The rest of the area, however, was a tangled mess of uneven flesh, blackened bits flaking off in the wind, a hole only vaguely visible.

Through it all, she saw the reason James still lived. She saw it in his upper jaw, in the stretch of ruined flesh along his temple, even near where his ear had once been. The spear had been thrown with such force and burned with such an intense head that there were patches where flesh had given way to bone. But James's skull was not a pale white, but a shimmering, almost dazzling, silver chrome. Winter could see a single, straight groove in it where the spear had tried and failed to pierce. It glowed a faint orange, holding residual heat from the spear, but it held fast.

Memories came flooding back to Winter. The implants James had, the heart, spine, and this. She had no idea where he had gotten them or how, but it didn't matter. They had saved his life, they had justified their existence a thousand times over.

"Winter?" His remaining eye lulled in her direction, swollen and red. Its lid was drooping, he was struggling to keep it open. Winter didn't say anything. Her hands went to the rucksack he always carried, tearing it open before she began to frantically search it. James's equipment had been searched when he had arrived, she knew he carried medical supplies. His blood had been clotting much faster than usual when he had been recovered from his encounter with Adam, he had injected himself with something. Fear bubbled up in her as she pulled out a cluster of needles, bottles, and syringes, though her hands remained steady.

If this had been Atlesian medicine, she would have recognized them and their purpose at a glance. Earth's labels and symbols, however, might as well have been in a foreign language. Not a single one was even vaguely identifiable. "Which one?" She whispered, holding the bundle in front of James.

He blinked as his eye slowly examined the medicine in her hand. "Stimpack," he said, pointing to a syringe with a gauge of some sort at the top. "In my arm." His voice was noticeably slurring. Ignoring that, she rolled up his sleeve and drove it into his vein. A soft moan of relief escaped him as she pressed down on the plunger. Almost at once, the dribble of blood coming from his mouth lessened. His eye focused, his breathing became more stable. Overall, his condition was still horrible, but Winter felt certain that, at the very least, he wouldn't die in front of her any minute now. "Thank you," he rasped.

She nodded, eyes darting upward. For the moment, the two of them seemed to have been forgotten. Róta had thrown herself into the midst of the ranks of their enemies, her tattoos glowing a bright blue. The woman was barely recognizable, her face was twisted into one of utter fury, and her mouth was wide open in a silent roar, only a faint cry audible. Her ax, crackling with Lightning Dust, was being swung with mad fury, Emerald desperately moving back to avoid being hit. There were many close calls, to the point where Emerald chose to duck and slide underneath the raging woman, firing bullets into the square of her back as she did.

Fairly certain she recognized a berserker Semblance when she saw it, Winter turned her attention to Han. The difference between the two of them was night and day. While he was liberally employing his underslung cannons, Winter witnessed him firing off a dozen blasts of green energy at Mercury as the gray-haired man advanced on him, Han seemed reluctant to engage in a frontal deadlock. He bounced to the side, his raised fist neatly deflecting a kick from Mercury before sliding into land a quick jab on Mercury's chest. He darted to the side the second the blow had landed, not straying far from Mercury, but staying just out of range of the flurry of kicks that were thrown at him in retaliation.

Roman was gawking at this sudden turn of events, his head turning from the two fights to the bruised and bleeding Rumford, and back again. Cinder's teeth were grinding in unrestrained fury, the blades above her head-turning. Attention was off of them. This was their chance to escape. Freeing up one of her hands, Winter grabbed the arrow still sticking out of her calf. Clamming her jaw shut with all the will she could muster, she pulled hard. There was little resistance as her flesh was torn open from the process, fresh blood spattering the snow below. Fighting back the urge to roar in pain as agony coursed through her leg, Winter took a second Stimpack from the supplies she had retrieved, jamming it into her arm.

A warm, pleasant feeling coursed through her from the source of injection. She found herself smiling before she could suppress the urge. It was a wonderful, comforting feeling. The kind of feeling that reminded her of curling up in a fluffy bed in front of a roaring fire. Then, almost as soon as it had come, it was gone. The harsh, cold reality of the bleeding wound came back to her, although not to the same degree. Not having time to wait, she experimentally put weight on it. It trembled as she stood up, pressed against the tree they were hiding behind, but she was able to rise to her full height without issue. How long she could stay standing, with her leg still aching and shaking, she had no idea. "We're going," she whispered, putting a hand on the tree for extra support as she slid the medical supplies back into the rucksack. "We'll stay low until we're out of visual range and then use my Semblance the rest of the way. Can you stand?"

James slid his pistol back into the concealed holster on his back. Winter had never realized just how truly ugly that weapon was. A crude design, with a grip that attempted and failed to be novel and charming, and a nonsensical engraving along the side of the barrel that served no practical purpose. If they weren't in such a dangerous situation, she would have ripped that accursed thing out of his grasp and snapped it in half. She had seen the look in his eyes, the way his mouth had opened. That weapon was nothing more than an anchor tied around his throat. James was a man with whom she had a healthy level of grievances, but he was on the same side as her and had proven himself dedicated enough to earn her respect. He deserved better than that wretched thing.

Gingerly, James attempted to stand, drawing Winter out of her inner thoughts. Nearly immediately, he stumbled and had to catch himself on a tree branch. "I'm sorry, I can't," he said, sounding exhausted with a trace of fear in his voice.

"It doesn't matter, give me your arm," Winter said. James hesitantly reached out towards her. Her hands closed around him, pulling his right arm over her shoulder and taking most of his weight onto her back. Normally, Aura would let her carry around a full-grown man in his combat kit without any issue. Now though? It wasn't beyond her, but she could already feel the beginnings of muscle strains, ones that would doubtlessly grow into agonizing burns eventually. It didn't matter. He couldn't move, she could, she would have to simply endure. "Stay as low as you can."

She doubled over as she began to move forward, doing her best to duck and weave through the trees, heading away from the bath in a diagonal manner, back towards Mantle. If the fight lasted long enough and they kept their frames low, just maybe they could break the line of sight. James clearly understood this and ducked his head down low, his breathing becoming guarded and regulated. As he did so, his mouth came within mere inches of Winter's face. A rancid stench hit her nostrils, provoking an involuntary wrinkling of her nose. Alcohol, his breath positively reeked of it. Despite everything, Winter shot James a look of surprise. She couldn't recall a single time she had ever seen the man drink or display a slight hint of intoxication. And yet he had a breath she knew all too well. It wasn't the breath of someone who enjoyed a drink every once in a while, the smell was far too strong and thick for that. It was the breath of a chronic, long-time alcoholic.

So. He's just like Mother then, a voice in the back of her mind said. A sad, pathetic waste. She shoved those thoughts to the back of her head. Whatever James was, he wasn't a waste. He had come nowhere near to the depths her mother had sunken to. Despite this, she felt anger and frustration in equal measure. Why was James poisoning his mind with such reckless abandon? They had both seen what a mess Qrow was all thanks to drinking, amplifying an already hard to work with person into a man who, by all rights, shouldn't be allowed anywhere near minors. James had shown the same frustration that she had. How could he have been such a hypocrite?

"Winter?" She had been staring at him without realizing it. James blinked. Now that he was so close to her, she noticed something that, now that she saw it, should've been obvious. His pupil was dilated, his head tensing as if he was fighting back the urge to check behind them, and his jaw was clenched tight. He was scared, terrified even. Winter wanted to slap herself in the face. They had been ambushed, James had had half of his face torn off, the woman leading the assault had used abilities whose nature and scale were beyond anything she had ever seen, and now they were struggling to merely limp away. Of course he was afraid. If anything, the fact that he was keeping himself this collected despite not being a soldier was nothing short of laudable. "Is it that bad? I-I can't see. Is there anything left at all?"

A tiny sliver of guilt passed through her. She could lecture him on the self-destructive nature of drinking when he had recovered. And he would recover. Atlas cybernetics were the best in the world, to the point where there was a months-long wait period for more high-quality implants, the demand was simply that high, even with the demanding prices. James would be the very next person to receive one for his eye. Winter didn't care if she had to get on her knees and beg Ironwood for such a favor, she would get it done. "It's nothing beyond fixing," she whispered back. It wasn't a lie, but it was a statement that was very particular with the truth.

Seconds ticked by as they continued forward, their pace agonizingly slow. Moving with dead weight, an injured leg, and with caution as to not make any noticeable noises or movements meant that progress was being made at a snail's pace. Still, the sounds of gunfire, blades on blades, and explosions were getting more and more distant. Winter chanced a backward glance. Cinder had joined the fight now, sending her glass blades arcing towards Han and Róta . An amber glow around Cinder indicated that her Aura had reformed, though most likely not at full strength. A startling fast display of recovery if there ever was one.

She didn't pay attention long enough to see what happened after that, the important thing was that Cinder's back was still to them. She might have felt conflicted about leaving the two of them behind if Han had not revealed that he was being deceitful about his true nature. As it stood, anyone who pretended to be an old blind man when he was secretly a fit, well-armed cyborg raised suspicion on Winter's part. Her report to Ironwood would contain all the details and he would be best suited to decide the best course of action there. She just had to get a little further. A little further.

"Oh, there you went!" Her head snapped back. Roman Torchwick had separated from the rest of the fight. He twirled his cane in his hand before aiming at them, a cap at the bottom opening up, revealing a barrel. His finger tightened around a trigger. "Nothing personal, but between getting on the bad side of Atlas and the bad side of these people, well, ask one-eye over there how it worked out for him. Honestly? You should be thanking me, I don't play with my food. For what it's worth, Ironwood was the best jailer I ever had." With that, he opened fire. Red, glowing projectiles soared forward, humming as they did.

Winter grasped her sword and made to stab down. She had enough Ice Dust left in her chamber to make one more ice wall, which would be enough to block this volley. After that, however, things would become more complicated. Of Cinder's lackies, Torchwick appeared to be the least threatening with the possible exception of Rumford. But he was still an Aura user who had proven himself capable of holding his own in a fight. If she was at full strength she would've been confident in her ability to eke out a victory, but it would be a touch and go fight now. Either way, it would have to be quick, lest Cinder's attention be drawn back onto them.

All of this raced through Winter's mind as the tip of her blade dove towards the ground. It never made contact. Before she could complete it, the roar of an engine filled the air. A civilian van, emerging out of the thicket of trees, swerved in front of her and James, taking the full blast of Torchwick's weapon. There was a groaning of metal, the side of the van that had been hit was visibly warped inward, and the vehicle itself was buffeted so badly that it nearly tipped over.

"What the-" Torchwhick said as the van screeched to a sudden halt in the snow. The driver's door, which was on the far side from Torchwick, burst open and a figure covered from head to toe in winter combat gear popped out. A balaclava and ballistic goggles covered their face and snow pattern camouflage stretched across every inch of their white combat fatigues. Not an inch of skin was visible, even the figure's hands were covered with gloves that matched the rest of the outfit.

The driver was holding a massive scoped rifle in both hands. Winter had never seen a design like it. Coils surrounded the entirety of the barrel, the body of the weapon was an odd, circular shape, and despite the presence of a magazine on the bottom, some sort of power cell was plugged into the side of the rifle. A power cell that heavily resembled the one used by the LAERs. Leaning over the top of the van, the figure fired. A heavy crack echoed across the landscape and Torchwick was blown off of his feet, his mouth wide in a silent gasp as he landed in the snow. Torchwick was still breathing, the shot hadn't broken his Aura, but he was noticeably shocked and winded. "Wiglaf!" the figure cried out. "Get them out of here!"

The voice of the driver was female, but something was odd about it. It sounded as if it was being put through a filter. The tone was oddly musical and had an echo to it. Winter was struggling to understand this, but it was all driven out of her mind when the back door to the van swung open. Her eyes widened.

An utter giant of a humanoid creature, twelve feet tall at the very minimum, leaped out of the van, landing with a loud crunch in the snow. Not merely tall, the newcomer had arms and legs that were wider than many of the trees around them, and a torso that made him the size of an Ursa. Most of the figure's body was covered in metal armor that was easily twice, if not thrice, as thick as the armor Atlas soldiers wore. It was a gunmetal gray, had a worn and used look to it, and made soft, mechanical whirring noises when it moved. Reports on the progress of industrial exoskeletons and Atlas combat suits floated to the front of Winter's mind. Nothing she had ever seen in Atlas matched the size and power this suit would doubtlessly have.

It wore no helmet, giving Winter an unobstructed view of its head, which was dark green and bald. It had all the essential parts of a human face, eyes, ears, a mouth, a nose, but it was much harder and stretched far wider than any face she had ever seen. There were so many muscles within the body that the figure's skin was stretched tight over it all, visible veins running down its neck. The creature, Wiglaf, carried a semi-automatic shotgun scaled up to his size in one hand and a metal tower shield that looked as if it could serve a plate of armor for an airship in the other. A lone symbol decorated his chest plate. The word "Unity" with a single, diagonal white line painted through it.

"Ah, Mr. Walker!" Wiglaf said in a deep, gruff voice. Despite that, the tone was warm and welcoming. He was smiling warmly at them, or, to be more accurate, he was trying to. His jaw was far too thick, making it come off as more of a grimace. "And a plus one. This wasn't how I hoped to meet you, but it's a pleasure nevertheless. Han has been so excited to meet you. But let's save that for when we're all out of the line of fire, shall we?"

James gasped, the noise shallow and barely audible. "A Super Mutant?" So, James knew what this thing was, the implications there were rather obvious, even if they weren't pleasant.

Wiglaf laughed, sounding genuinely amused. "A crude term for such a complex and inspired design, but yes."

"Wiglaf! She's getting a bead on you!" the woman in combat gear shouted, firing her odd rifle again. Wiglaf turned his back on Winter and planted his shield in the ground in front of him. A pair of spikes extended out of the bottom, burying themselves in the dirt and anchoring the shield. No sooner had he done so, than six of Cinder's flaming arrows impacted on it. Despite the sheer width of the shield, all of the arrows achieved some level of penetration. Most of them had possessed enough force that the arrowheads were now jutting out of the far end of the shield, while the one had fully made it through and was now embedded in Wiglaf's chest plate.

Wiglaf looked down in surprise. "Oh. Oh shit." Without any warning, gusts of wind picked up, blowing so fiercely that Winter was forced to brace herself to stay upright. Cinder, her eyes glowing with that otherworldly light, rose up, her hands out to the side. Thousand of glass fragments spun through the air around her, forming dozens of arrows as fire blazed at her fingertips.

"HAN! We need to go! She's a Maiden!" The alien word registers in Winter's mind, but she had no time to analyze it. The woman in white tilted her weapon up, firing three more times, the barrel giving a meaty roar with each shot. Again, Cinder's hand rose and intercepted the incoming shots, all of them burning up before they could impact. Whatever the woman was shooting was some kind of solid projectile, though no casings were being ejected, and it was faring no better than James's rifle.

Cinder thrust her hands forward. A geyser of fire erupted from her palm, licking the front of the van and surging towards the woman. Crying out in pain, the woman threw herself down from her perch on the driver's seat. "My suit!" she yelled as she crouched against the side of the van, ejecting her rifle's magazine and loading a fresh one.

"Well I do believe now's a good time for you two to get in the clear," Wiglaf said, his good-natured tone much more strained now. "Get in the van, Anna and I will cover you!" As he spoke, the giant let go of his shield and stuck one hand into the van. He ripped out a suit of armor that was similar to his own, but was meant for a normal-sized person, appeared more bulky and utilitarian in design, and had a helmet that possessed a pair of beady, sickly yellow eyes. To Winter's surprise, the white spear of Atlas was adorned on the chest plate of the suit, a single white diagonal line stretching through it. Heaving it the suit up, Wiglaf slammed it into the ground, leaving it standing straight up.

The woman, Anna, lept towards the suit, exposing herself to more fire. Abandoning her rifle, she grasped the back of the suit with one hand, turning a valve in the small of its back, and tore at her balaclava with the other. As the valve turned, the suit unfolded, hundreds of parts whirring and clicking as it opened up, allowing a person to step in. The other hand seized a handful of her face covering before pulling it and the ballistic goggles off in a single, clean swipe.

For the second time that day, Winter saw something utterly unfamiliar to her. The face of the woman was both glowing with pale green light and appeared to be in the middling stages of decomposition. A few faint strips of dark flesh around her cheek were all that was left of her epidermis, while her hair was merely a few wispy locks. Her features were sunken, as if she had been starved, and tendons on both sides of her jaw were bare. She didn't look as if she should be upright, Winter had seen healthier looking bodies in a morgue.

"She's a Ghoul." Winter's attention turned to James, silently asking for an explanation, praying that he had one. His eyes were on Anna as she clambered into her suit. It closed around her like a carapace, sealing her within. "They're mutants, both of them. Radiation and chemicals from Earth do this to people." They were from Earth then. That had been the conclusion she had been working towards, but these two had pushed her over the edge. These were familiar sights to James? Walking corpses and giants?

Anna shot an annoyed glance at them as she retrieved her rifle. "In! Now!" she snapped, arcing her rifle up. Wiglaf had drawn Cinder's attention, charging out into the open with his shield up, firing his shotgun. Every shot sounded like a cannon going off. The first shot caught Cinder dead in the chest, forcing her back in the air before a geyser of flame burst forward to swallow up the rest of the shots. At the same time, her arrows flew forward, hugging the outside of the pillar of fire. She had adjusted her arrows, which curved through the air to attack him from the side, while her flames hit in the front. His shield stopped the fire, but all the arrows buried themselves in the sides of his armor. Judging by the winces and the lack of blood, Wiglaf had Aura, and it was taking damage.

Winter glanced back at James. "Could they be Legion?" They didn't match any of the Legion's previous profiles, but she struggled to think of who else they could be. Her knowledge of Earth was limited. And if they broke precedent with Marie F. why not here?

James shook his head. "Women, mutants, and old people, the Legion hates them all." His lone eye met hers. He could sense her apprehension. "Do we have a choice?" Winter could tell by his tone that he liked the idea of trusting these people just as much as her. Not at all in other words. How was another group from Earth on Remnant? How long had they been hiding here? Why had they lied to James? Had they been leading him into a trap?

"NOW!" Anna bellowed, firing her rifle in Cinder's direction. Winter marched forward, pulling James along with her. Unfortunately, James was right. They didn't have a choice. She half pulled, half dragged James towards the entrance of the van. Clambering up, she dug her hands under his armpits and pulled him in. It was far less graceful than she would've liked, and he noticeably hissed in pain as his back was dragged across the edge of the threshold. Not a word of complaint escaped his lips though. Finally, he was inside, out of the line of fire.

"Ok, they're in!" Anna shouted. She appeared at the mouth of the van, emptying the magazine of her rifle before she climbed in after them. A grunt from Cinder echoed after the shots were fired, they had done something. "Wiglaf! Get Róta and Han over here!"

Winter leaned James up against the wall of the van. "Stay here," she said, before drawing her swords. Supporting herself against the side of the van, she limped back towards the entrance, near Anna. Twirling both of her blades, she drove them into the floor of the van just shy of the entrance. She didn't have time to do anything fancy, so she rushed her summon. A trio of short Beowolves, ones that didn't even come up to her knees, appeared. Leaping out of the van, they charged in the direction of the battle. She didn't like these people, but their fate with them was uncertain, whereas their fate with Cinder was certain doom.

Peeking out of the van, she took in the battle. Han was still dancing circles around Mercury, who was seething in frustration. Ducking under a high kick, he landed a quick punch in the younger man's gut before leaping backward. "Ok, enough playing around!" Mercury shouted. He began to spin and kick, sometimes supporting himself with his hands, white bullets empowered by Wind Dust fired out from his boots. They started to form a cyclone around him, one that he doubtless intended to unleash on Han. However, just when they were starting to form a significant mass, twin beams of red light flashed directly into the cyclone. Each hit one of the bright, white rounds, melting them instantly. Again and again, the streams of energy flared, tearing into the gale of projectiles with pinpoint accuracy. Within seconds, it had been consumed, not a single round left. The shots, the lasers, had come from Han. Out from the back of his cloak, an additional pair of mechanical appendages were emerging. Long, thin, and with barrels mounted on the end, both of them aimed at Mercury.

"You son of a-" Mercury began, only for Han to lunge forward. A heavy, downward cross slammed into his face. Mercury stumbled back, planted his hands on the ground, and then pushed himself up into a backflip. As he did, his foot shot out, catching Han right in the throat at the same time that he fired the barrel in his boot at point-blank range. Han gagged as the force of the blow knocked him back a foot, clutching at his throat as he struggled to breathe. A satisfied smirk crossed Mercury's face. "There we go, looks like the old man has a glass jaw." In response, Han aimed his free arm and both of his back-mounted lasers at Mercury, but the younger man had flipped out of the way before he even fired.

In direct contrast to Mercury, Emerald was staying as far away from Róta as she could, her pistols blaring nonstop as the glowing woman chased after her, roaring as much as her wispy voice would permit. There was not a moment where she wasn't viciously swinging her ax, every blow having enough force to rip a head off, the blade dancing within mere inches of Emerald. Eventually, Emerald stepped to the side. Confusingly, Róta continued charging forward, now swinging at thin air, seemingly oblivious that Emerald had been left behind. Róta came to a halt and let out a roar of triumph before raising her ax above her head and burying it in the snow. "What, you, DESERVE!" she hissed, raising her ax again

Emerald's eyes narrowed in concentration as she twirled the chains on her pistols before sending them flying. Arcing through the air, they deftly wrapped themselves around Róta 's throat. The muscular woman blinked in confusion, stopping her assault and looking in Emerald's direction. Her eyes swung wildly from side to side, not focusing on Emerald despite the green-haired woman being on the far end of the chains now wrapped around her neck.

Realization dawned on Winter that a Semblance of some kind had to be at work here. "No you don't," Anna hissed, aiming her massive rifle in Emerald's direction. Winter, however, had already beaten her to it. She had intended for her Beowolves to attack Cinder, but a simple thought had been all it took for them to change directions. Turning on a dime, they divided and came at Emerald from three different directions, their fangs bared. Realizing what was happening, Emerald tugged hard on her pistols, earning a gag from Róta as her face began to turn red, and fired both. Each shot struck true on one of Winter's summons, causing them to dissipate into snowflakes on the wind if they were hit, but a third one was still unharmed. It dove at Emerald, biting at her torso.

Emerald yelped before swiftly kicking the summon in the side of the head, causing it to vanish like its fellows, but the damage had been done. Róta 's eyes focused on Emerald, as if she was properly seeing her for the first time. Baring her teeth, she grasped one of the chains wrapped around her and pulled hard. Emerald promptly lost her balance to Róta 's superior strength and was sent stumbling into melee range. Letting go of the chain, Róta gripped her ax in both hands and swung.

The electrified ax head tore directly into Emerald's side, ripping a cry of pain out of her before sending her flying into a nearby tree. She impacted with such force that the tree snapped in half as if it was a twig, Emerald staggering to her feet. Róta took a step forward, snarling in rage. "Time to go!" Róta paused, looking as if she had just broken out of a stupor. Wiglaf was beside her, firing his shotgun up into the air at Cinder. "Fenway special?" A grin split Róta 's face. Her hand darted into the snow and grabbed something before she nodded.

"Anna, duck!" Wiglaf slid his shotgun onto his back before he grabbed Róta . His hand was so thick that he was able to close his hand around her torso. Realization hit Winter. Heaving her over his head, he threw Róta with a precision snap. The woman became a blur, speeding directly in Winter's direction. An armored hand closed around the back of Winter's head and she was forced down, Anna hitting the deck alongside her. There was a clang and the whining of metal being bent. Swiveling her eyes up, Winter saw Róta hanging from the entrance to the van, her ax buried into the now warped upper frame. A triumphant grin was on her face.

"You'll have to drive, I can't while I'm in my Hellfire," Anna said, taking up a kneeling position and firing. Róta nodded, bounding into the depths of the van, which did not separate the driver and rear section, and clambered into the front seat. The blue glow that had been covering her faded and her breathing became more labored. Winter recognized the tell-tale signs of an adrenaline crash.

Outside the van, much of the attention had turned onto Han, who was now firmly on the defensive. Emerald had pulled herself out of the splintered tree and was flinging her bladed chains at Han. He backed up, batting them out of the air, only for Mercury to close in on him from behind while he was distracted. A brutal ax kick came down from the gray-haired man, aiming to split Han's skull in half. Han realized what was happening just in time to cross his arms over his head, stopping the blow with an echoing clang of metal on metal. Mercury didn't lose his momentum, however. Grabbing Han's arms, he pulled himself up off of the ground, pulled his free leg back, and kicked out hard. He caught Han directly in the stomach, earning a grimace as he stumbled back. As well as another loud clang of metal on metal.

Winter did the mental logic. A blow like that should've knocked the breath out of someone, even with Aura up. That, combined with the clang, led her to an easy conclusion. Han was most likely more metal than flesh. Mercury seemed to have reached the same deduction. "Ok, the head it is," he said, starting forward again. He got halfway there before a bang echoed out from right next to Winter and he was blown off his feet. Anna made a small, satisfied noise.

Seeing an opening, Han took it. With the speed and form of a seasoned runner, he began to dash towards the van. Wiglaf fired a few more blasts from his shotgun before falling in behind him, his tower shield raised high. Mercury kicked high into the air, the barrels in his boots firing off Wind Dust infused rounds that arced and came at Wiglaf from the side. Seething, floating above them all, Cinder did the same with her arrows.

Holstering his shotgun, Wiglaf gripped his shield at the top and bottom. A thin, horizontal line appeared in the middle of the shield, shimmering in the pale light. With no resistance, the shield separated into two, the areas where the break had been made were semi-transparent and liquid. It looked as if the shield had melted, but there was no sign of dripping. Holding up both shield halves to either side, Wiglaf blocked the incoming shots. Only a few made it through, but once again, Cinder's arrows obtained either partial or full penetration.

"Move," Anna said sharply, and Winter pulled back into the van. Han leaped in, Wiglaf right behind him, having to double over to fit in. "Róta , go!" The engine of the van roared as it took off, speeding off the beaten path and into the treeline. Emerald and Mercury both made to follow, Mercury kicking out to propel himself forward with the recoil from his boots.

Neither got very far. A whistle was all the warning that they got before a bright green explosion tore apart the earth in front of them. They screeched to a halt, just avoiding it, and jumped back. A second explosion burst to life, consuming the area they had just been in. The shade and power of the explosion, which quickly vaporized nearby trees into blackened husks, was identical to the plasma grenades James used, only bigger. There was a loud wiring noise, and a large shape emerged from the trees and assumed a parallel position to the van, matching its speed. Wiglaf gave a pleased smile. "Jane's here."

Jane, it seemed, was a pitch-black combat robot that was only slightly smaller than an Altesian Paladin and around the same size as the back of the van. Every section of her was thick with armor, and in several, it appeared that additional armor had been fused on. Her arms ended in barrels, one that was a missile launcher and the other a laser similar to the ones on Han's back. An identical set of weapons were mounted on her shoulders, all four of them firing missiles and automatic laser fire back in the direction of Cinder and her followers. There were four legs that, instead of ending in feet, had tires that wouldn't have looked out of place on trucks. Her face was a simple grate that housed a single, glowing red eye. Like all of the others, she had a symbol on its chest with a white diagonal line through it. In Jane's case, it was an uppercase E surrounded by stars.

"Incoming," she said in a cold, mechanical voice. Cinder was right behind them. She was speeding through the air, her arms behind her, spouting flames that were propelling her forward. Even from this distance, Winter could see an almost demonic like look of rage on her face, etched into every corner of it. She howled in fury, a howl so feral that Winter found herself instinctively clenching her teeth as she raised her swords. What was this woman?

"Han!?" Anna said, firing the last of her weapon's magazine, Wiglaf supporting her with his shotgun, all of the shots blocked by Cinder. Winter slammed her sword into the floor of the van, preparing another summon. She had barely started when the elderly cyborg shouted out from behind her.

"Jane, Helios maneuver!" he said, bounding to the back of the van, a strange humming noise emanating from his chest. At once, all four of Jane's weapons tilted up and fired, lasers and missiles filling the air. With a flick of her fingers, Cinder sent a pair of arrows directly at the missiles. Her aim was true and the missiles detonated on impact, long before they were able to reach her. The rapid-fire lasers were less easy to block, however, and they raked her torso, causing her to tense up in pain and fury. More arrows rained down, all of them finding their mark, burying themselves in Jane's chassis, one splitting her shoulder-mounted laser in half. Sparks flew from the opened gaps, circuitry now exposed, even Jane's abnormally thick armor only doing so much.

"Just a few more seconds!" Han said, stepping in front of Anna, Wiglaf, and Winter, leaving nothing between him and Cinder. The humming noise coming from his chest was growing louder, steadily approaching a piercing tone. Reaching into his cloak, he turned something. One of Cinder's eyes snapped onto him as he acted, and an arrow flew in his direction. Han moved to dodge, but he had barely moved before it hit. There was a shattering noise and the screech of metal tearing. A red Aura flickered and died around him as his right hand dropped to the ground. Undeterred Han continued to pull at something under his cloak with his remaining hand before ripping it wide open. Winter could just barely make out a fully mechanical chest, one that had a covering panel open to reveal a flat surface that was identical to the barrels of the laser weapons Winter had seen. It was the source of the humming, which had now reached an almost unbearable level.

Han pulled at something in his chest. A bright, nearly blinding laser, at least a foot in diameter, fired out from Han's chest, instantaneously arching up and right onto Cinder. For a second, she was consumed by the concentrated light. Winter thought she might have been vaporized after being hit by a weapon this powerful. Instead, she tumbled down gracelessly onto the ground, landing in a smoldering pile. "Floor it!" Han cried out. Wiglaf reached forward and slammed the doors of the van shut as Han stepped back and leaned against the wall, turning to look inward.

Panting, his chest and the laser cannon glowing an orange that bordered on red, he closed the panel as best he could with one hand. As he did, Winter saw a flag painted on the panels. The majority of it consisted of red and white stripes, with a blue square in the upper left corner that played home to a circle of white stars. Winter wasn't surprised to see that it too had a white, diagonal line crossing through it.

"We made it," James said softly behind her. Winter moved back to where he was sitting. Now that they were in the clear, she would have to give him a more in-depth look over, make sure that his injuries were stable. As she reached him and checked his face, he looked directly at Winter. She was taken aback. There was not a time in her life when she could remember someone looking at her with that much gratitude. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you so much." A pleasantly warm feeling glowed in the pit of her stomach. He half leaned, half fell forward, hugging Winter. His grip was weak, he was more clinging to her jacket than he was hugging her, but he did so quite stubbornly. The warm feeling in her grew ever so slightly. She returned the hug.

After a moment, however, she pushed him back against the wall, taking care to be gentle. "You need to see a doctor," she said sternly. She looked at Han, who was now leaning against the side of the van, panting. "I assume we are indeed safe?"

Han nodded. "She might've lived through that, but she's not gonna be running after us after taking a direct hit, even with Maiden powers. Róta knows enough tricks to throw them off the trail now that we have a head start. We just need to play it safe and make sure they're thrown off our trail. You gotta be careful when it comes to prints."

Winter nodded. "Very well. Thank you for your help. Once you're certain that we aren't being followed, we'll need a ride back to Mantle. Whatever you wanted to show James, it can wait until he's healed." A heavy silence fell over the back of the van. Anna, Wiglaf, and Han all looked at her. Anna was impossible to read through all her armor, but Wiglaf looked disappointed while Han had pure guilt plastered over her face. Dread crept into Winter. Slowly, she backed up, positioning herself between them and James, her swords out in front of her. "You want him dead, don't you?" she said, her voice venom. "You never had a way home for him."

"I didn't lie," Han said, every word overflowing with self-loathing. "James." He looked past Winter, at the man behind her. "You didn't think the United States government would build a portal to another dimension and not send anyone through, did you? And if you send someone through, they need something for a return trip." He sighed. "Two portals were made. I have the other one. I never thought I'd see someone from Earth that I didn't take to Remnant personally. I thought the other portal was destroyed in the Great War. And then you show up, a wastelander in Remnant. You were lost, confused, entirely out of your depth. I had every intention of getting you home, safe and sound." He closed his mechanical eyes, holding them shut before opening them again. "I didn't know you had unlocked your Aura. I wish you had told me that. It changes everything."

"The hell are you talking about?" James rasped from behind Winter. He attempted to get up, only for Winter to firmly push him back down with the edge of her hand. Privately, Winter shared his confusion. Hadn't the United States been a destroyed country from Earth? Han was claiming to be a survivor? And how did Aura change anything?

"It's a big picture matter," Wiglaf said. While he didn't appear to be happy with the situation, he clearly felt nowhere near as guilty as Han did. "Degrees of power and influence have always been a thing with the human race. One man in power armor can kill a hundred people who aren't. Aura is even better than power armor the two complement each other rather nicely. But theoretically, anyone can activate their Aura, it doesn't have a required industrial base." He shot an annoyed look at Han. "And while there is some disagreement on it, we as a group have decided it's in Earth's best interest not to have Aura introduced to it. I believe Han's exact reasoning was wanting to avoid creating monolithic blocs of power that would slaughter any faction smaller than them with transhuman super soldiers."

"Please, understand," Han said. "Earth has no context for such a thing and Remnant has had Aura for so long they consider it mundane. But this? The things you and I can do? It's transhumanism. The elevation of human beings beyond the limitations of their biology, creating chasm-sized gaps in power that can never be crossed with natural talent or training. If Aura gets into Earth, if people like Caesar's Legion get their hands on it, hundreds of thousands of people will die. A non-Aura user going up against an Aura user is like someone with a rock trying to destroy an M-60. And once everyone knows what it is, it'd be the nuclearization all over again. Everyone trying to keep up with their own beyond human warriors. Demi-gods waging war and destroying everyone stuck between them. And now that you have it, I can't let you just go back to Earth. You'd be Pandora's Box."

James was silent for a moment before he spoke again. "What, you think I'd be an idiot and run around giving Aura to the 80s and warlords? I don't even know how to activate Aura." Winter was focusing on staying between James and the others, but part of her brain was going into overdrive. Was Earth really that primitive? There was a concern of Aura users massacring those who weren't?

"That doesn't matter," Han said, shaking his head. "James, ideas are contagious. If someone so much as learns about the existence of a concept, it has the potential to enrapture them. I promise you, such a thing will happen if proof of Aura's existence gets out into the wasteland. Thousands of people will dedicate their lives to chasing it down and harnessing its power. It might take years, decades even. But it will happen." He looked as if he wanted to cry. "You can't go back to Earth. I'm sorry."

A heavy silence followed. "Very well then," Winter said. "Drop us off at Mantle then. Whether he has access to your portal or not is inconsequential. We never expected this to yield results, we're right back where we started." Her voice was cold and icy. James was oddly quiet behind her. She had a strong gut feeling that having a way home dangled in front of his face and then cruelly snatched away was nothing short of devastating to him.

"We can't," Han said bluntly. "You know who we are. Atlas would be combing the area looking for us and the portal we have. You've gotten a taste of Earth technology, haven't you? James, be honest with me. Do they know about nuclear weapons?" For the first time since she had taken her position, Winter glanced at James. A look of pure horror was on his face, visible even though his injuries.

Han sighed. "You told them, didn't you? Then I hope you can appreciate the magnitude of the situation. We're not just looking out for Earth, we're keeping Remnant safe too. Neither world needs the horrors of the other. And if workable models get introduced, they will never leave. Aura and nuclear weapons both, they're swords of Damocles in the wrong hands. The woman that did that to you could bring a Post-War nation to its knees by herself. And nuclear weapons in Remnant would cause the Cold War all over again."

"Mantle always likes to think it's first among equals," Anna said bitterly. "Sometimes to the neglect of the equals part. They'd be at the head of any nuclear disaster. James, ask your friend about the time Mantle tried to crush all freedom of expression in the world by force of arms."

"So what? You're going to kill us?" Winter said, her hands tightening around her swords. There was a rustle behind her, and the head of an ax extended past her leg, a lit pilot glowing gently. James has the strength to aim that weapon at least, one that didn't require precision. At that point, the van screeched to a halt. There was a shifting of gears from the front and Róta stormed into the back of the van, glaring with unrestrained contempt. For a moment, Winter thought Róta was glaring at her. Then she realized the muscular woman was looking at Han."

"What are you doing?" she asked in her raspy voice, each word looking as if it was causing her great pain. "We help them!"

"It's unpleasant, I admit it," Wiglaf said, looking at her with sympathy. "But we do things we disagree within our little group. You know what I think about Aura, but I still go with the majority." Winter realized that all eyes were off of her and James and that the engine was still running. Was there something they could use there?

"We backstabbers now?" Róta snapped, wincing and clutching at her throat as she tried to speak.

"Róta , wait," Anna said, holding up her hands. She sounded panicked, a surprising change from a woman who had primarily been irritable up until this point. "Don't push your vocal cords. Let's get back home and I can get you pen and paper so we can talk about this when we're-"

"Vote," Róta said tensely, interrupting her. "I want vote!"

"Róta ," Anna said with exasperation, but Han held up a hand.

"She has the right," he said. Moving to the back of the van, he opened the door. Jane was outside, her back to them. At once, she spun to look in. "We're having a vote." Turning back inside, Han cleared his voice. "All in favor of releasing our guests?" Róta 's hand shot up, looking around expectantly as she did. No one else followed her example. "And those opposed?" Han raised his hand, as did Wiglaf, Anna, and even Jane stuck a laser barrel into the air. Han counted. "1-4. I'm sorry Róta , it's dismissed with prejudice."

Róta was seething with barely contained rage. "You promised him," she growled, wincing and clutching at her throat as she did. "You promised." Winter focused on the woman. Perhaps she was a weak link in this group that could be exploited.

"I know," Han said softly. "It's a horrible thing in a long line of horrible things I've done. But the alternatives are always worse. I'm sorry." His face hardened. He opened a panel on his handless arm and pulled. Explosive bolts detonated and the entire arm was blown off, leaving a clean, empty slot. As he did, a hatch opened on Jane's chest. Inside was an array of arms and legs, identical to Han's. Taking one, he slid it onto his slump. It whirred to life, Han flexing his new fingers as the hatch closed.

"Now then. James. Specialist Schnee. We have you five to two and neither of you are in a shape to fight. I have every intention of treating you with the dignity and respect a POW would expect. I will provide medical treatment for James. I must insist that you surrender your weapons, though." He held out a hand. "This is not negotiable."

All attention was on them again. Winter was trying to not think about how right Han was. The odds were stacked against them. "Your promises aren't worth very much now, are they?" She said, stalling for time. "What incentive do we have to trust you?"

"Self-preservation," the synthetic voice of Jane said. "If you will not give them up, we will take them. Resisting will only incur further injury. Don't be stupid." Winter glared at Jane. A second passed. Then another. Winter was mentally scrambling for an escape route, anything. There was nothing useful in the van. The rear exit was blocked by all of their captors, and she wasn't certain she could pull James out through the front. To complicate matters, there was nothing of use visible outside. Only snow, trees, and a bird sitting on the windshield.

Her line of thought was broken as James exhaled heavily behind her. The ax he had been holding clattered to the ground. Winter could feel the fight in her die. It had been hanging on by a thread, but the only ally she had in the area standing down had smothered it.

Róta recognized it too. Closing the back door to the van, she angrily made her way back to the driver's seat. She only stopped for a second to place something on the ground next to James. His helmet and gas mask. "Róta , listen," Anna said, moving to put her hand on Róta 's arm. She slapped it away, not looking back as she climbed into the front, shifted gears, and began to drive again.

"She'll come around," Wiglaf said, bracing himself as the van lurched into motion. Anna nodded wordlessly. "Now then. Weapons, please? And scrolls."

Still glaring at Han, Winter folded her swords into one and presented them to him, hilt first, fetching her scroll with her other hand. He took them and smiled. "There's much you don't know about us. I promise you we're not the villains we must come across as. We do good work. You'll be treated well when we get home, and hopefully, we can talk more in-depth about who we are and what we do." He pointed at his chest, specifically the white line. "We're the Scattered."

"Am I supposed to be intimidated?" Winter asked sourly. As she did, Anna moved forward and took James's ax. Gesturing to him, he shifted and reluctantly handed her his rifle, knife, scroll, and rucksack.

Han shrugged. "Not really. We decided we needed a name and it was the best one we managed to get on the whiteboard. We came from radically different walks of life. It fits."

Winter narrowed her eyes. "You're all from Earth then. How? Why?"

"80% of us are. Anna is Atlesian, born and raised," Han said. "And I promise, everything will be explained." Before he could continue, Anna talked over him.

"All weapons."

"Oh come on, it's a 9mm SMG," James said. "Your armor alone could soak it all up; his even more so." He gestured at Wiglaf. "It's a pea shooter compared to the rest. Cut me a little slack, let me keep one."

"All. Weapons," Anna growled. She held her hand out. Cussing under his breath, James upholstered his White Fang SMG and handed it to Anna. "Don't be a stubborn ass your entire life," she said as she took it.

"No promises," James said. Winter looked at him. At first, the outburst had confused her. But as Anna stepped back, asking for nothing else, she understood. It had been a clever ruse if it held up. "Three questions. First. My eye?" James said, pointing at the wound.

"An excellent question," Winter said. James looked like he was stabilizing. Whatever was in that Stimpack, it was doing good work. He wasn't bleeding anymore, but he still looked very weak. "If you mean to treat us well, do you have a doctor that can treat him?"

"We have an auto-doc back home," Han said. "State of the art." Winter has no idea what an auto-doc was, but James seemed to be satisfied with the answer.

"Second." There was the sound of a strap being undone as he pulled his wrist-mounted terminal off. "Can I check her for radiation?" Winter looked at him in confusion. Radiation? She had read the initial report from when James had first arrived, including his claim about a harmful type of radiation. According to him, it killed on the cellular level. While she hardly felt fine now, she wasn't suffering from total cell failure.

Han nodded. James handed his terminal to Winter. "It can check your health. I don't have radiation sickness, but the Geiger counter picked some up from the explosion. Please." Winter hesitated before taking it. It took her a few seconds to figure out how to put it on. Eventually, she cinched it into place. At once, the image of a cartoon character with Xs for eyes and his tongue hanging out of his mouth appeared. Beneath it was a message. "You have minor radiation sickness." Instinctively, Winter pressed her palm against her forehead. She felt fine, what was this all about?

James sucked in air through his teeth. "Shit. The bomb. Han, I need some of my Radaway."

"I'm familiar with treating radiation, I can apply it," he said. Anna held up the rucksack and Han reached in, pulling out what looked like an IV solution pack.

Winter interjected. "James will be fine, thank you." Han paused, looking as if he had just been slapped. Then he nodded. Without a word, he handed the pack to James.

"Winter, could you roll up your sleeve please?" He asked.

She studied the bag. It looked rather old. "Is this needed? Your computer says the sickness is minor."

"This stuff can cause all sorts of nasty things, cancer among them," James said. "And if you're really unlucky, you can go feral. End up like Anna over there, except without your faculties. It's best to nip this in the bud early on." Winter relented, kneeling down next to him and rolling up her sleeve. James knew better than her about this, best to let him take charge. Scoring forward, he undid the cord of the pack.

As he did, Han took a first aid kit off of the wall, producing an alcohol swab and bandages. He handed the swab to James, who took it without looking and began to rub Winter's arm. "I'll bandage your face after this." James grunted but nodded. "You said there was a third question?"

James slid the pack's needle into Winter's arm before answering. "What was going on back there? What's a Maiden? Who's Salem? Something was different about Cinder than typical Aura, What was it?" Winter nodded, eyeing the Scattered. Those were all very good questions, ones she wanted the answers to herself.

Han, Anna, and Wiglaf exchanged surprised looks. "I thought you were working for Ozpin. And I thought she was working for Ironwood. You don't know?" Han said.

"What?" Winter asked, barely paying attention to the fluids now flowing into her. A slight feeling of dread slid into her. She squashed it. If General Ironwood had kept classified information from her, he had his reasons.

"Oh dear," Han said. "Specialist? You may want to sit down. You deserve the truth at the very least." A dark look crossed his face. "There's another reason Remnant can't learn about Earth. Something is lurking in the dark corners of this planet, intelligent and malicious. "She wants us all dead, and she won't rest until it's done. Cinder is doubtless a pawn of hers, a taste of what's to come. The endless hordes of Grimm are all hers. She's Salem. And she's been terrorizing this planet since I arrived here in 2076."

XXXXX

Servius stood at attention, looking through the joint Legion and White Fang camp as they did. They had arrived in the frozen hellscape known as Atlas several days ago. Ever since they had been making a nonstop march through the frozen countryside. Unlike in Vale, they had been deliberately avoiding any towns and cities. Vulpes, and Caesar through his Signifer, had given them strict orders to do so. They were not to waste men and resources on minor battles when they had a larger objective. Said objective was known only to Vulpes, a wise move to prevent a security leak.

As they moved, other forces had trickled into line with them. Many Legion forces had been covertly placed in Atlas in preparations for Caesar's strategies, and the White Fang forces that were loyal to Adam had flocked to them. The latter, however, had come in smaller numbers than Adam had been expecting. The very last had made contact this morning, bringing the total number of their force to roughly five-hundred. Three-hundred Legion, two-hundred White Fang. This, according to Vulpes, was the grand total of the Legion forces on Remnant, as well as all loyal White Fang. They would not be seeing any reinforcements for some time. The words of the head of the Frumentarii still rang in his ears. "If you fail, there will be no others to bear your burdens. Die a meaningless death and you have cost Caesar dearly."

Three Centurions commanded the three centuria that the Legion forces had been divided into, slightly oversized centuria but Caesar had willed that it be so. Ancus had been given command of the one that he and Tullus had been folded into, while the White Fang operated on their own, much looser organization. So loose that Servius was reluctant to call organized at all. The only thing that was truly set in stone among them was that they had orders to assist the three centuria. Even then, they freely moved about, deciding which warriors they wished to fight alongside on mere whims. Privately, Servius found it maddening. For all the bravado of the White Fang, they would have been devastated on the open field had the Legion not come to assist them. He prayed Vulpes would instill Legionary discipline on them sooner rather than later.

"Forward!" Servius took a dutiful step forward. He had learned since arriving in Atlas that the Legion forces in Vale had been there mainly on scouting purposes and reaching out to the White Fang, while the bulk had been in Atlas. Likewise, the majority of the Legion's munitions, weapons, and other equipment had been there as well. Servius now found himself at the front of the line for his centuria, where Ancus had been personally distributing supplies.

"Ah, Servius," he said warmly, reaching into one of the many wooden and steel crates that lay opened around him. "Caesar is generous and arms his legionaries well." Ancus spoke the truth, he had been among the first to receive his new arms. In addition to his Super Sledge and 12.7mm SMG, he now had an LMG slung over his back, as well as a thick shield. It appeared to be some sort of transparent material that had had countless metal plates welded to it for extra protection. Servius could just make out some writing through all of the additions, "Denver PD." "He sent his finest blacksmiths to assist us. Look."

Ancus removed two things from the box, a shield much like his own, and a sword. Servius had come to respect and rely on his blade, but it was nothing compared to the masterful work of art that Ancus now held before him. It was a shortsword, it would stretch from his elbow to the tips of his fingers, and was double-edged. It was clean, sharp, shone brightly in the pale light, and ended in a firm, brass pommel. He took it in his right hand, barely registering taking the shield in the other. It felt wonderful, properly balanced, light, and solid. A sword worthy of Caesar's name.

Slowly, reluctantly, he turned his attention to the shield. It was much larger. If it were planted on the ground, he would only have to duck his head down to be fully obscured, and it reflected in the weight. The crudely applied additional plating made it look ugly compared to the much more elegant sword, but Servius could not deny how firm it felt. "Your gladius and your scutum. Treat them with the same care you would your very body. They are gifts from Caesar."

"Of course, thank you," Servius said, affixing his new weapons.

"Report to the training grounds, Caesar's other Aura capable warriors will join you shortly with instructions." Curiosity struck Servius. Was this training? A mission? "Forward!" Ancus was busy, Servius wouldn't bother him with questions right now.

He moved through the hodgepodge of Legion and White Fang tents to a clearing that had been set aside. Standard Legion camps had a field for legionaries to spar, but in this camp, it was reserved for Aura users. Every night he and Tullus had been training with the other Aura capable Legionaries, learning more about their newfound powers.

"There you are!" Tullus was already there, waving with his blade arm. His unmanaged one was extended outward, flakes of ice flying off of it. A tree in front of him was flash freezing at an alarming rate, leaves stiffening and falling off while wood splintered and cracked open. It was already cold, but as he neared Tullus the temperature in the air dropped at least ten degrees. Tullus lowered his hand, and the temperature returned to normal. "It seems I have ranged capabilities."

"Short ranged, but ranged." Ilia was there. She approached the tree, poking it with the tip of her sword. The wood splintered like glass underneath the pressure. "And effective." She sounded impressed.

"Hell yeah it is." Servius felt as if he had been jolted. Marie F. was sitting with her back propped against a tree, a large sandwich in her hand. There were large smudges on her face as if she had recently wiped off makeup with little care. She had gone exploring in disguise. Again. She waved at him. "Oh dude, you gotta check this out. Next town over has restaurants that are actually open all night, can you believe that?" She took a massive bite out of the sandwich she was holding, juices dribbling down her face. "And it tastes damn good! They had a fucking teenage boy with more pimples than brain cells handling this stuff, how the hell did he pull that off?"

"It's fast food," Ilia said dryly. "Anyone can do it. Some of us were stuck working there before we joined the White Fang."

Marie F. swallowed and laughed. "I love this planet!" Servius was about to say something when he saw what Marie F. had slung on her back. A long, metallic catapult with a bright yellow warhead loaded into it. A Fat Man. She noticed, grinning as she finished off her sandwich. "We're ramping things up, your bosses want these people dead." Servius nodded dumbly. He didn't even know the Legion had had access to such weaponry. Ilia and Tullus were also eyeing it. Tullus was concerned while Ilia was more confused. "It's do or die time. They've got major hard-ons for us now, and we're fucked in more ways than one if we don't pull this off."

Servius frowned. "If we fail here, the Legion will carry on back on Earth without us." He saw Ilia shift nervously out of the corner of his eye. It confused Servius. What was she worried about? Didn't she understand the strength and tenacity of the Legion by this point? The White Fang had chosen wisely when they had picked their allies. Victory for both of them was only a matter of time, even if others would have to pick up the torch.

Marie F. let out a groan of annoyance as she got to her feet. She looked at him with something between annoyance and pity. "Listen, I don't think you get why your boss is so desperate to throw so many of you in a world crawling with giant, fuck off monsters," Marie F. said. There was a tingle in Servius's spine. Something was wrong. Marie F.'s nonstop glee had vanished and she was looking at him with hard eyes. She never did this. "You guys got your asses handed to you both times you tried to take Hoover Dam, there's no hiding that," she said. "But Caesar doesn't want you to know what's going on at the eastern border of the Legion. The place he's been having me fight nonstop for the last two years to pull his ass out of the fire."

She reached into one of her jumpsuit's pockets. For a second, Servius thought she was about to pull a weapon on him, but instead, she withdrew her hand to reveal a piece of scrap metal. One with a bright, golden seal painted on it. The sword and cogs of the Brotherhood of Steel. "I tangled with the Brotherhood once or twice on my own, some of the toughest bastards I ever met. But I never met anything like the force that's fucking you from the east. They call themselves the Midwest Brotherhood of Steel. You got your typical assholes in power armor and robots, wouldn't be the Brotherhood without them, but it didn't stop there. Zombies, Frankensteins, and Deathclaws, they somehow managed to get Deathclaws working for them, Deathclaws that, I shit you not, actually talk, and a fuckton of tribals, some terrible fighters, some pretty good. Get this, they even have cars."

She slid the armor plate away. "They started hitting Legion outposts a year after Lanius tucked tail and ran back to Papa Caesar. They weren't even expecting you, they just wanted to pass through on the way to the West Coast, but now it's an eastern front war. I have no idea how the Brotherhood got a force so big on the other side of you people, but it's there and it's been slowly piling up bodies for the last two years. They're not invincible like the usual Brotherhood you know, most of them don't have power armor and they've lost a lot of people taking you on. But they're much better equipped than you guys are; they're starting to make headway."

"And Caesar is doing everything he can to keep as few people in the know as possible, saying that the forces going east are on tribal conquests," she said in a disgusted voice. "Little bitch. I guess he knows if the NCR caught a peep of the Legion's attention being divided that he'd get spit-roasted." She shrugged. "He started the fight frankly, he should have enough balls to finish it. It's one thing to take a break from it, you and I had to run from James but we both know we're gonna get back to it the second we get a chance. Caesar? He's running scared."

Servius blinked. Everything that Marie F. had just told him sounded like a farce. He could buy the Brotherhood having a cell on the far side of Legion territory, they had been active long before the Legion had ever been formed. He could even buy that the profligate tribes east of the Legion had formed a massive army to oppose them, if the NCR could do it, why not them? But the two combined, along with a coalition of Ghouls, Super Mutants, and talking Deathclaws? The last statement alone should've been proof that Marie F. was just spewing out nonsense. And yet the steely look in her eye told a different story.

"You think I'm crazy, or fucking with you, don't you?" A wry grin slid across her face. "Don't mistake me for a lunatic with a knife fetish. I'm forty-seven years old. You don't live to be that old in the wasteland unless you know what you're doing. And that army to the east is the strongest I've ever seen the Brotherhood of Steel. And get this. They're only killing you because they want to hook back up with the West Coast Brotherhood." She let out an odd laugh. "And apparently they want to kill them too. God, the Brotherhood just keeps trying to kill each other and they're still some of the toughest sons of bitches around. This is the Circle of Steel all over again."

"You don't make any sense," Servius said. He felt stunned, as if he had just taken a hard blow to the head. This wasn't right. "Why are you telling me this?"

Marie F. looked Servius up and down. Then she gave a small grin. "To teach you a lesson. Thump your chest, talk shit, pick fights, you do what you think you need to do. But you only get one. You mess up, you pick a fight you can't win and end up with a knife in your throat, that's it. Everything that makes you what you are? It's gone forever." To emphasize her point, she drew her finger across her throat. "And if you don't know what you're getting yourself into, you might end up handing the knife to them."

"And you need to understand that you aren't the unstoppable conquerors anymore," she continued. "You aren't carving your way across Remnant on a victory lap. You're scrambling for a way to avoid the executioner's ax. Caesar came here for a miracle solution to the NCR and Brotherhood. Now this place is so batshit crazy he might find it. But if he doesn't, you're gonna get massacred back home. Everything you ever built, ever cared about? They'll tear it down and rip it apart. Never forget that. Because this little trip is your only way out."

"But there's a silver lining." Her grin spread. "You never fight like you do when your back is up against the wall. Everything comes out, nothing gets held back. And if you win, you will never taste a sweeter victory." Her grin faltered. "Don't get drunk on that feeling. Use it. If you let it use you, you're right back to not knowing what you're doing." Stepping forward, she gave Servius a firm punch in the shoulder. "You got a fire in you. Nurture it, don't let it burn out. I'm curious to see where it goes. And if you want to learn some of the more fun things I can teach you?" She rapped one of her sheaths. With a pop, a copy appeared. She flipped it with practiced ease. "Just ask."

A heavy silence followed. Servius could tell that Marie F. was being genuine with her offer for lessons. But there was a tiny pinprick of irrational fear in the back of his mind. Legion drill instructors were cruel and relentless out of necessity. Nothing else would turn young boys into hardened warriors. This woman, however, set something off in him. A primal fear that if he accepted her offer, he might not walk away. A fear he had never felt towards his Legion instructors, even when they had beaten him for speaking out of turn. He swallowed. "Start tomorrow?"

Her new knife vanished. "I'll be looking forward to it."

Snow crunched underfoot and several more legionaries approached. Those with active Aura. Vulpes was at the head of them, his helmet off and silver hair blowing in the wind. Beside him were Adam and a man with graying hair and a beard that Servius recognized. Lucius, the head of Caesar's Praetorian guard. Lucius had been positioned on Atlas with the majority of the Legion's forces. He carried no weapons, not even a gauntlet that was a common sight on many Praetorians. Curiosity flared within Servius. Why was such an aged legionary confident enough to present himself unarmed?

A steady trickle of people filed into the clearing, Caesar's Signifier, the muscular Faunus with the chainsaw sword, and eventually Ancus joining them. In the end, two dozen of them filled the clearing, the split between Legion and Faunus being 50/50. Despite the superior numbers of the Legion in the camp, the White Fang had more Aura capable warriors. The thought of that stung Servius. The Legion was still new to this, and they would need to catch up fast. His thoughts turned to Marie F. If she wasn't lying, an army was pressing on the Legion from the east. Every Aura user possible would be needed. He would not fail Caesar or the Legion.

Vulpes cleared his throat. All legionaries present stood at attention, while the White Fang more idly turned their focus onto him. Anger burned in Servius, but he held his tongue. Vulpes Inculta was capable of enforcing discipline on his own. "We have entered a critical junction of our joint operation," Vulpes said. His voice was silky and soft, yet it was one that demanded respect. The backs of the White Fang present visibly stiffened. Except for Ilia. She had already been taught from the moment Vulpes had approached, wearing a stony face. Servius fought back a smile. Ilia had more potential than the rest. She would have made a good legionary.

"Barca has caused near irreparable damage to our ability to move men and materials," Vulpes continued. "Our path back to our home has been deprived of us. We will secure a new one. With that, the Profligates of Remnant, the ones that have wronged us and our newfound allies, will feel the full brunt of our might. White Fang, your plight is nearly at an end. But one last hurdle lies before us before we can move onto our final goal. An all-out assault on the city of Atlas itself."

That got the attention of every Faunus present. Many of them let out thunderous whoops that caught Servius off guard. The sudden change from idle attention to roars of approval was shocking. Ilia's mouth had opened in triumph before her hand smacked over it. She looked down, pulling her hand away. The brief spark of energy she had shown was gone, replaced with confusion. Servius felt puzzled. Was she all right?

"But even with our current combined might, we lack the force to deliver a decisive blow to the capital of Atlas," Vulpes said. A flicker of anger crossed Adam's face, but Vulpes pressed on. "I do not doubt your conviction or skills, but Atlas is merely the beginning. Victory is all too possible as we are now, but do content yourself with them. Atlas is the largest and cruelest of your foes, but it is not the only. If your lives were squandered in Atlas, who would carry the cause onto Mistral? To Vale? And even Vaccuo? Human profligates infest every corner of Remnant, Atlas is merely where they are thickest. Many glorious years lay ahead of all of us, filled with the vengeance you all rightfully deserve. And the Legion shall be beside you for every battle."

Adam's anger died, replaced by a satisfied smirk. More than one of the White Fang were now giving self-satisfied chuckles. Even Servius felt like a fire had been lit in the pit of his stomach. An enemy of an Amicus was an enemy of the Legion. Profligates, every last one of them. The corrupt, self-serving nature of their governments would all be torn down, replaced with the strength of the Legion. They would deserve it. Barca, Rumford, the pathetic blonde boy who had been playing at being a warrior. They were selfish, destructive, and stupid respectively.

As his mind drifted back to the teenager who had barely put up a fight against him, Servius remembered something else. The red-headed girl. The flame in his belly faltered. She had shown a warrior's heart and a spirit that rivaled most legionaries. For some reason, she had fancied the welp. Perhaps it was similar to how legionaries enjoyed slaves that had been broken in. Broken in the way the girl would be if she lived. A sick, horrible feeling swallowed up the fire in his stomach. What if she was captured? Was Aura genetic? Would they use her to sire new legionaries? Would he be expected to do so to maximize success? Bile coursed through him. He was certain he was going to be sick.

Vulpes continued. Servius's attention jerked back to him. He had missed a bit. "We will be forming an elite strike team to secure the additional forces we so badly need. Unfortunately, one of our agents has informed us that a Mistral based organization we reached out to for help has, violently, rejected our offer." He smiled. A wide, toothy smile. "In time, they will come to regret that decision. For in choosing not to help, they have sided with those who wish to oppress you. Perhaps I was too idealistic in counting on Raven Branwen for help. She would have made our task much easier, but we will make do without."

"With the exception of myself, your brilliant leader, Lucius, and Caesar's Signifier, all of you will assault an isolated, underground bunker a day's drive from Atlas. It is not affiliated with Atlas, but you would be wise to not underestimate it. We are not aware of its exact defenses, but expect heavy resistance." Vulpes reached into a pouch as he continued to speak, he reached into a pocket and produced a folded piece of paper, which he smoothed out. "Your target is this. It is not to be damaged. Any legionary that brings harm to it will face my displeasure. White Fang? Your leader, in his wisdom, will doubtless issue the same warning to you." He held up the paper, which had a complex diagram inscribed on it.

Servius recognized it at once. It was the same portal that he had been assigned to guard at Big Mountain. All the pieces clicked together, the reason they had been heading out to the middle of nowhere instead of pressing their attack. They were securing a route back to Earth, one that reinforcements could pass through. Truly, they were undoing the damage that Barca had inflicted. "Once this device is secured, our true assault will begin. Take this moment to contemplate, to imagine. Every desire you have ever had, every righteous punishment you have wanted to inflict on your enemies. For after our attack on Atlas, dozens, hundreds, of profligates will be our captives. To be better put to use once they are in their rightful place. Below us. In service to us. The only things they are truly good for."

The sense of triumph rose in Servius again. It spiked with such fierceness and ferocity that it shook him. The image of the red-haired girl was still in his mind and the bile reared again. Servius inhaled sharply as the two conflicting emotions battled inside him. What was going on? He glanced at Ilia, who now had her hand firmly planted over her mouth. She was trembling, horror in her eyes. Whatever was happening to him was happening to her too. Did they both lack the strength to finish this?

They were alone, all others had erupted into thunderous cheers. Adam managed to make his voice heard above all others. "The humans of Remnant will know their place, only the Legion will be spared! As will any Faunus who stands against the freedom we represent!" A cruel smile parted his lips. "Our new allies have taught us excellent ways of punishing them." Servius was certain that Ilia's eyes would pop out of her skull, they were bulging so bad. The poor girl looked like hot pokers were being shoved into her. Servius wanted to say something, but a deep fear rooted him to the spot. Interrupting a speech from Vulpes Inculta? No one knew what the punishment for that was, no one had been foolish enough to test it.

"And now, for the matter of who will lead this attack," Vulpes said. "Do you wish to meet the ones you will lead?" He turned his head back into the clearing. Heavy footfalls echoed, heavier than any man had the right to make. The sound of wood being bent and then snapping echoed through the clearing, followed by a tree with a shattered base tumbling over. The tips of its top branches scraped the outer edge of the clearing.

Then Servius saw him. His breath caught in his mouth, a horrific chill ran down his back. He couldn't breathe. An armored man walked forward, shining steel covering nearly every inch of his body though. In the few gaps where it did not, bulging pink muscles strained, attempting to escape their owner's armor. They were ridiculously thick, nearing Super Mutant levels, and the man had no right moving with the ease and comfort with which he did. His face was covered by an intrinsically carved helmet, shaped in the face of a bearded man, topped with a wide crista. A sword that matched the man's six feet adorned his back, freshly forged and with no flaws visible at all in its straight edge. A crimson red cape flapped behind the man.

"You seek freedom, and it will be yours," Legate Lanius said. "But in ways you never could have imagined. Now, march. If you are able to survive what comes, you will understand the truth of my words. As will all of Remnant who are able to prove themselves. Those who cannot? Little more than carrion. Do not fall behind or fail me."

XXXXX

General Ironwood strode through the corridors of the Mantle border base, a thousand different logistical balancing in his head. "Warning, arial alert in outer perimeter. All personnel stand by," a crisp voice announced over the loudspeaker. Ironwood barely paid attention to the warning. He had a meeting with the other headmasters in a minute, the ones who had been trusted with the secrets of Salem, the Relics, and the Maidens. Pyrrha Nikos would be allowed to participate, having recently been brought into the fold, but aside from her, no one else was permitted. Between that, and the upcoming raid on the Legion and the White Fang, a simple matter such as this wasn't something that warranted his full attention.

He produced his scroll, looking at the number of Knights and Paladins he had on standby for the raid. There were a dozen Paladins and hundreds, nearly a thousand, Knights on this base, enough that they could have crushed the invading force by themselves. If they could get the drop on them. Sadly, Atlas's automated forces had been designed with standing battles and defense against the Grimm in mind, not rapid insertion missions. The Knights lacked the speed to hit an off guard force hard, and transporting multiple Paladins would bog down the speed of the raid as well as alerting their targets with the roars of heavy-lift dropships.

He pressed a few choice keys. Soldiers and Huntsmen would have to do most of the heavy lifting here. He could manage to squeeze in fifty Knights and a single Paladin. The Knights would mainly be providing support fire, but they and the Paladin could assist in ensuring that the Legion and the White Fang did not escape. The devastating nature of a Paladin might even be enough to force a surrender. Though, considering the nature of the Legion, that was unlikely.

As he continued to walk, Ironwood vaguely registered the sound of heavy surface-to-air laser cannons being fired. Judging by the volume, it was an entire battery. The loudspeaker crackled to life again. "All contacts neutralized. Stand down and resume normal operations." Coming to a halt, Ironwood looked up from his scroll and out a window. The sun was starting to set over the mountains, the glare shining directly in his eyes. Squinting through it, he caught the sight of three Teryx Grimm falling through the sky, their bodies collapsing into powder. Turning away, he continued walking until he reached the end of the hallway.

Two soldiers stood guard on either side of a heavy-duty door. Both of them saluted him as he approached, a gesture he returned. "At ease. I have an important call to take, I'm not to be disturbed until it's done. If anyone needs me, it can wait unless the base is under attack." Both soldiers nodded as Ironwood punched a code into a keypad just below the door's knob. There was a click as the door unlocked and he stepped inside.

The room on the far side was his office, or rather the room he was currently using as his office. Ironwood moved around the Kingdom of Atlas enough that he rarely spent more than a month in one place, and as such he didn't have a truly permanent office. This room reflected that, lacking decorations and having only basic amenities, a desk, and a computer. Sitting down in the desk, he typed in his password and opened the secure line.

Four frames popped into view at once, most filled with the face of one of the other headmasters. Ozpin, Leo Lionheart, and Locasta Goodwitch all took up three of the four. The final one was occupied by Pyrrha Nikos. "I want to keep this brief," Ironwood said. "We have reason to believe that the Legion means to steal the Winter Maiden's power, possibly the Staff of Creation as well. Between that and the recent attacks on the Fall Maiden, all of the Maidens and Relics should be considered at risk."

He took in everyone's reactions. Ozpin was calm and collected, Leo was fidgeting as he wiped his brow, Locasta, an older, somehow even sterner version of her younger sister, adjusted her glasses as her face hardened. Pyrrha said nothing, merely taking and letting out a deep breath. "Uh, Ironwood, I take it this is the one who was chosen to be the next Fall Maiden?" Leo said. "Our fifth wheel?"

"Her name is Pyrrha, Leo," Ozpin said firmly. Leo rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. "And yes. Ironwood and I discussed it in great detail and believe that it was the best option we had. I know she will make us all proud." He smiled. "Herself included." Pyrrha gave a weak smile in response.

"Time is of the essence, so I'll cut to the heart of the matter," Ironwood said briskly. "Salem is making her move. She doubtless means to capture the other half of the Fall Maiden's power and then move onto the other Maidens. I suspect that, with the Legion attempting to seize the Winter Maiden, she will attempt to use the confusion to take it for itself. Atlas will need any support that can be provided. The Winter Maiden is not combat-capable. She's in her early 90s and her body is beginning to give out, she's unfit for anything other than long-range support. Our doctors predict that, at the most, she has a year left. Like Oz, I've been searching for a replacement candidate, but things are accelerating faster than I expected." He looked back and forth between Locasta and Leo. "We need the Spring and Summer Maidens, as well as any help the Relics can provide."

"The Summer Maiden has the opposite problem," Locasta said. "Far too young. She's only recently begun to display basic mastery of her abilities. Letting the Sword of Destruction out of its vault while the key is so insecure would be nothing short of irresponsible." She adjusted her glasses again, her brow furrowing. "We may need to accept that the forces beating at our doors have picked the worst time for us and the best for them. Still, I'll be able to rally some Huntsmen to support you. Many of them have been begging me for a chance to go and fight, but I've been needing to keep the Summer Maiden closely guarded. I can spare a few, though."

"I'm, uh, not certain that Mistral will be of much help," Leo said, producing a handkerchief and dabbing at the sweat that was collecting on his forehead. "We've had issues with bandits taking care of the panic and Grimm attacks are at an all-time high. Our Huntsmen are overtaxed and stretched thin. You need to understand James, people are panicking, the White Fang never stooped to indiscriminate slaughter before this. Violence? Yes. Innocent people were hurt and killed? Yes. But they never just fired into crowds and crucified civilians. Everyone is terrified, and the Grimm are responding."

Ironwood took in the swearing man. Everyone was more accurate than it should be. "Am I to understand that Atlas will not be receiving any additional support?"

Leo turned away while Locasta's eyes narrowed. "I am sending what I can. The Huntsmen we can spare can be there in two days if we prioritize aircraft for them. But you if all people should understand the state of Vacuo's military. Half of our armed forces are volunteer militia. They won't leave their homes for anyone, least of all Atlas." Her eyes bore into his. "They haven't forgotten that Vacuo was an oasis before foreign interests took precedent."

"That is not-" Ironwood began, stung by Locasta's words, but Ozpin interrupted.

"Now is not the time for finger-pointing; we can't afford to divide ourselves. We have our grievances, but those need to wait for another day." His eyes focused on Ironwood. "It wouldn't be wise to concentrate too many pieces in one place, it would leave the other academies vulnerable. The majority of Vale's forces stayed behind to keep the scales balanced. If we are careful and utilize the element of surprise, what we have is more than enough. If we deal with the Legion and White Fang now, we can focus on Salem." He sipped from the coco he always had on him. "James Walker is another newcomer from this Earth that the Legion calls home. His methods are extreme and distressing, but his goals are admirable and he produces results. It's because of him we know where the Legion is. If he continues to prove reliable, and ideally if his more concerning impulses can be tempered, we should consider bringing him into this inner circle."

Leo looked startled at this suggestion while Locasta had an exasperated expression on her face. Ironwood wasn't sure how to feel. James was a talented individual, yes, but he didn't have proper respect for boundaries. He and the other headmasters were the ones who gave the orders, and while he had told James to make peace with the less radical White Fang, it should've gone without saying that he didn't have free reign to carry out vigilante justice. In that way, he was even more unstable than Qrow. He should have sent Winter out. Winter would have kept him informed and updated every step of the way.

"Ozpin, now is hardly the time to be bringing new blood in, not at such a critical hour," Leo said. Ironwood nodded. Maybe after this crisis they could talk about it. James was too much of a maverick to bring in right now. "And even then, you're serious about this other world matter? Come now Ozpin. We deal with the extraordinary, but even by our standards this is absurd."

"It certainly sounds that way, doesn't it?" Ozpin said, visibly amused. "I do have to admit, I'm not certain I would believe it if I didn't see the evidence myself. But Ironwood and Ms. Nikos can both vouch for me on this. We've seen otherworldly technology, currency with no precedent in Remnant, and even soft drinks made by companies that we can find no records of. We have even been exposed to technological theories that we had never even considered." All of it was true in ways that had been eye-opening for Ironwood. Already he had R&D doing preliminary research into the equipment they had taken from the Legion.

"It's a lot to take in Leo, I appreciate that," Ozpin continued. "But we've confirmed it. It seems we are not sole masters of the fantastic. And James Walker, with his unique connection to Earth, could prove invaluable."

"Perhaps," Locasta said, sounding doubtful. "Leo is right though. Now is not the time. We're not certain how reliable he is."

"You can trust him," Pyrrha said. All eyes were on her as she spoke. "He's on our side." She gave the faintest of tremors, but she stood her ground. It took courage to go against three of the four headmasters, particularly at her age. He admired that.

"It's not his intentions we're questioning," Ironwood said, as kindly as he could. "But this is a very delicate situation that requires a certain temperament. Mr. Walker is rather aggressive in his approach to problems." As far as Ironwood was concerned, describing a machine-gun massacre as aggressive was highly generous on his part. "While secrecy is key to our operation." Pyrrha nodded, noticeably taking a step back. She looked a little embarrassed. This was why Ironwood approved of Ozpin's choice for the next Fall Maiden. He simply had to point out the facts and she would self-correct. It was a type of maturity that was often hard to find.

He was about to continue when his scroll rang. "A moment," he said. Ironwood looked down at his scroll in annoyance. Then his blood went cold.

"Winter and Walker got kidnapped. The old guy, his bodyguard, and people in a van. Two weren't human or Faunus, one was a robot. Following them. Queen has pawns pretending to be Mistral students. Two groups, look unconnected. ED-E will be by with the rest of it. Going dark for a while." Out of the corner of his eye, Ironwood could see Ozpin looking down at something himself. No doubt, he was seeing the same message.

"Leo, Locasta, we'll have to continue this another time," Ironwood said. "Something has come up."

"It's quite urgent, our apologies," Ozpin added. The two didn't even get time to get a word in edgewise before they were disconnected. Ironwood would have to apologize later. "Did they retaliate for his hand in preventing your forces from being hacked?" Ozpin asked briskly.

"They must have," Ironwood said. "But the old man? I never took him to be a threat." He grit his teeth. How had he let something like that slip by when they had barely avoided a catastrophic security breach? Just because he had appeared fragile and harmless?

"What's going on?" Pyrrha asked, looking back and forth between the two of them in confusion. Ironwood barely listened as Ozpin relayed the message Qrow had sent, only faintly hearing Pyrrha's gasp of horror. Qrow was going off on his own to rescue James and Winter. Qrow acting on his own, once again. How was he supposed to work with people like this? But the damage was done, sending another message back at this critical moment could blow Qrow's cover. Then they would have three hostages to rescue instead of just two. He would need to talk with Ozpin about getting that man under control, but that would have to wait.

At once, he turned and opened the door to his office. Both guards saluted at once. "At ease," he spat out, sloppily returning the salute. "Walker's robot companion, is it on the base?" As a response, one of the soldiers relayed Ironwood's question into his helmet's radio. After a few seconds, he nodded.

"It just arrived. Reports say it's heading straight here. If you're busy, we can-" the soldier started, but Ironwood interrupted.

"No, that won't be necessary, let him in." Both soldiers looked at him in surprise but didn't question his orders. If only it was always so simple. He returned to the threshold to the office, turning to look back outward and waiting. After a minute, the whirring of the robot reached his ears. It turned the corner, speeding into the open, and heading straight to Ironwood, coming to a stop and letting out a slew of incomprehensible beeps. "Inside, we don't want to be overheard," Ironwood said, gesturing inward. ED-E paused for a moment before floating inside, Ironwood closing the door.

The robot spotted the terminal and headed towards it at once. It started to beep again before pausing. Then the sound of an old cassette tape being rewound came from him. There was a click and James Walker's voice came out of the robot. "Get help. Cinder, Emerald, and Mercury were the ones working in the dark. They have Rumford and Torchwick. Stay low and hide in the trees. Don't let them see you."

"Mercury?" Pyrrha said in disbelief. "Him and his team? They were in class with us. They were going to enter into the Vytal Festival."

"We need to handle this very carefully James," Ozpin said. "We have opportunities that won't last long." He turned his attention to ED-E. "Did you encounter Qrow on your way back?" ED-E nodded. "Did the ones who attacked you see you escape?" ED-E shook its body. "Then we have an opening. ED-E. Did Emerald or Cinder display odd powers? Flight, ability to control fire, glowing eyes? Beep once for Emerald, twice for Cinder, three times for neither." ED-E beeped twice. "Then Cinder was the one who attacked Amber," Ozpin said, "and she's the one who has the other half of the Fall Maiden's power."

ED-E let out a string of beeps again. Doubtless, it was saying one of two things. Either it was demanding action to save James, or it wanted to know what a Fall Maiden was. "Ozpin," Ironwood said warningly. "You're talking about sensitive matters."

"James Walker was attacked by Salem's operatives and because of his friend, we know who they are now," Ozpin said, his voice level. It was his diplomat's voice, the one he used when he wanted everyone to calm down and sit at the same table together. That voice was frustrating sometimes. "Both he and ED-E saw Maiden power in use, it's not a secret to them anymore. James Walker will want answers when we get him back, and we will get him back," he glanced at Pyrrha reassuringly, "so we owe him answers. But we have three situations to deal with. The kidnappings, Cinder, and the raid. We have limited openings for all of them." He looked at Ironwood. "I believe Qrow has the kidnappers firmly tailed. With luck, he might even be able to free them by himself." Ironwood doubted it, but it was true that Qrow was excellent and scouting and tailing.

"So long as he reports in when he learns it's too much for him to handle alone," Ironwood replied. If Winter couldn't break herself and Walker out, the situation was dire and the captors of one of his best officers were highly competent. "And the raid needs to continue as planned. Hundreds of innocents, maybe even thousands, could die if the Legion is not stopped tonight."

"Agreed," Ozpin said. "But you're sending your best men out there James. They need to be at their best for a force that large." He placed his mug down on a table that Ironwood couldn't see. "I know you won't like this, but for the moment? I believe you should let Cinder believe that her cover is secure. She should be dealt with last. Not only is she the one with the longest time table, she should believe herself safe."

"Absolutely not," Ironwood said bluntly. "I will not have someone with unchecked Maiden powers have free reign of my kingdom or a base under my command. It's a time bomb waiting to go off. Ms. Nikos? I'll need your help. I'm putting the base on high alert. Those three are to be detained on sight and terminated if need be. Ozpin? Is the Maiden transference device ready?"

"James, we can't rush this," Ozpin replied. "Salem specializes in hiding in the shadows. If we move too hastily they'll see and slip away, off the grid. We-"

"Ozpin?" Ironwood said, his voice stern. "You aren't in Vale. I am the general of the Atlas armed forces, you aren't. Your concerns have been voiced and noted. We will be going ahead with my approach. Now. Can we transfer Maiden essence?" Sometimes, Ironwood has to put his foot down. This was his home, not Ozpin's. Besides, for all of Ozpin's talents, he had never been a military leader. He was skilled at peacetime leadership and diplomacy, he had gotten Walker in his employ in a matter of hours after meeting him, but he did not direct battles. The one time he had been in a war, he hadn't needed armies. This was his field, this was where he held experience over Ozpin.

Ozpin stared at Ironwood before giving a stiff nod. "Good. Ms. Nikos? I need to see you in person. We have to move fast." ED-E choose that moment to start beeping. Whatever tape it had inside itself rewound and played James saying "Cinder" while the laser it had on its underbelly whirled about. "You want to help?" ED-E nodded violently. "Follow me then." With that, Ironwood turned and left the office. He could feel Oz's eyes on the back of his head.

XXXXX

Author's Note: The thing about writing crossover stories where fights are a big thing is trying to balance out the fights in a way that doesn't make it look like one side has too much up on the other, unless that's the point. You're not going to be able to please everyone, inevitably some readers have a side they want to win more and all the victories can't go to one side. That being said, please keep in mind that I'm doing everything I can to balance out RWBY and Fallout in a way that's interesting to read and also works with the story I want to tell. I know some people are annoyed James isn't kicking ass right away, and to those people I just want to say this. Courier 6 didn't come out of the Goodsprings Cemetery with a Gatling laser and a set of power armor, mowing down legions of Super Mutants as they did. It's a process. Please. Be patient. I think you'll like what I have planned for him. But I'm gonna make him work for it. I didn't raise no spoiled, entitled Gary Stu. You can tell, he's not special forces at the age of 16 with a harem made up of every single female character. (The latter being a concept I hate.)

Now, in regards to the long update time. My life is crazy right now. Work is leaving me exhausted to the point where I spent a number of nights passing out fully dressed, I've had some family drama (I don't want to get into too much but my brother is on probation and he's got the abrasive attitude to fit it) and my social life has been different from late 2019 to 2020 (as in I actually managed to develop an active one for the first time in my life ever since I found a local game store that proved to be quite welcoming.) As such I've not had a lot of strength for writing. It's gotten to the point where I closed down my because I just didn't have the strength to keep up with it anymore. I am working on my writing where I can though, and I've not abandoned this story. Thank you very much for your patience, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

(Oddly enough Corona has not been affecting my life too much. I'm an essential worker, so that's business as usual, and my time with friends has shifted to Discord.)

I would like to thank my legacy Patrons, SuperFeatherYoshi, xXNanamiXx, RaptorusMaximus, Davis Swinney, Mackenzie Buckle, Ryan Van Schaack, ChaosSpartan575, and LordofNaught for their amazing support.