Chapter Nineteen: A Monster Trapped in a Nightmare.

Anguish. That feeling of self-condemnation just wouldn't recede. Nothing could compare to the feeling of complete hopelessness which had swallowed her whole. And yet, it felt so familiar, even if it was simultaneously alien to her. She had no reason to be feeling this way. No justification to have felt this sickening feeling of guilt. No rationale to be haunted by a past which was not her own.

She was a different person, now. Ever since she had awoken from that alleyway, she should have been detached from whatever had once ailed her. So why had she decided to seek out knowledge which, perhaps, had been sealed away for a good reason? If she had decided to live out her life as some nobody, would she have been happier that way? Instead of trying to take upon the weight of the world, when she couldn't even hold the weight of whatever trauma was afflicting her? Was it too late to just forsake humanity and live a peaceful life away from everything?

These were the thoughts she considered as she looked out the window of the airbus, looking down at the people slowly getting smaller and smaller until they merely scuttled around like ants, and the vehicles were beetles. She shook off the urge to pretend to be holding a magnifying glass. These horrible intrusive thoughts just kept on resurfacing. Was this who Neo truly was beneath her mask?

A deep sigh resonated from her silent lips. She never wanted this. She never wanted any of this. Why was it harder to get out of bed every day, knowing that every choice you make could have massive consequences? In fact, she had probably already altered the timeline of events beyond her own understanding. It was possible that her little intervention at the docks had irreversibly changed everything and doomed her with the knowledge of impending kismet whilst denying her the intel of what form it could take.

"Made up your mind, yet?" asked a familiar male voice from behind her. A black glove rested upon her shoulder. As much as she wanted to shove it off, she'd already given up on trying to delay the inevitable. "You're not like them, you know?" Roman continued, leaning in closely and whispering into her ear like a devil on her shoulder. "You have choices. Options. You can watch your world burn around you, or you can be the one setting it all ablaze."

There was a pause, as if he expected to hear some kind of witty clapback. And yet, none came. Neo just couldn't be bothered to fight back anymore, so she just decided to ignore him. In truth, she hated his words. To be more precise, she hated that she couldn't find a flaw in them. It was true; her knowledge of world events extended to both sides. She could put a spanner in the works of either lineup. She was the Kingmaker, or the bringer of regicide.

"Honestly, I can't believe this is even a question. One side cannot die, and the other side is employing children to go to war. I get the appeal of rooting for the underdog, but this is just sad." He spoke, before moving his other hand onto Neo's cheek and chin. He lifted it, turning her gaze into his bright green eyes. "Do I need to remind you that we accomplished so much together? We had each other's backs through thick and thin. Lived like royalty amongst thieves. Sure, we may not have wanted to join that side, but can you deny that it was the only option that gave us a fighting chance to survive?" He asked, smiling gently.

Neo's eyes diverted and she turned her head away and went back to looking out the window. A single thought radiated throughout her head: 'I don't want to survive. I want to live.'

"Jeez, kid. I think all that ice cream is rotting your head. Let me lay it out for you." He placed one hand in front of her and curled it up into a fist. "Surviving." He then placed his other hand on top of the first and balled it up, too. "Living." He grimaced. "You can't live if you don't survive. Aim for the base needs before you start looking for the luxury of living."

She sighed once more. Yet again, she couldn't find a fault in his words. Why did he have to be so damn persuasive and persistent? Why couldn't he just leave her alone and remain an afterthought?

"Because, Princess, I don't suppose you've forgotten…but I'm a part of you. And I'm not about to let the real me die for a second time because you weren't there like I was for you."

And then…he was gone again. She looked down at her hands again. They were wet. Not blood, fortunately. His blood wasn't on her hands yet. Instead, she was crying again. And she hated that fact. She was supposed to be a battle-hardened crim – err… vigilante. Urgh, all this thinking about succumbing to her base nature was confusing even her train of thought. Anyway. She was supposed to be smug, calm, cool and collected and here she was, shedding tears about the idea of being destructively selfish. Some 'hero' she was.

Her meandering thought process landed on Ruby for some reason. She felt awful for leaving them back there, but she couldn't bear to stay after humiliating herself like that in front of all her friends. She knew she wasn't in the right mindset for a dessert party, but she went anyway because she was greedy and the idea of enjoying dessert in the company of friends was appealing. If she was just able to overcome this unwarranted trauma, maybe she'd be able to actually enjoy it. Alas…such is life.

Her scroll began buzzing. A message had arrived. On closer inspection, she had been dragged into a group chat with the other five. To be honest, she probably should have messaged them sooner, but had forgotten in the heat of the moment. Maybe she really was a bad friend as well as a sociopath.

'Contacts: Little Red, Handyman, Twilight, Masked Medieval, Gold Standard.

Message Log:

Gold Standard: Is everything alright? Where are you?

You: I'm sorry for disappearing. I'm on the airbus.

Handyman: I thought you would be. Need some time to yourself?

Little Red: I'm sorry if I scared you. I didn't mean to.

You: That would be best. And I know you didn't. I'm just…not feeling myself. It's not your fault.

Masked Medieval: Rough night?

You: Something like that.'

She closed her scroll after typing a few messages. Naturally, she felt bad for making them worry but, at the same time, she wouldn't have changed much if she was put in that situation again. They can't help her outside of simply being there. This was a problem which only she could solve. Alongside saving this world, despite the adversaries which dwelt all around. Not even her mind was safe.

Upon arriving back at Beacon, she quickly made her way back to her dorm, unlocked the door and placed down enough cash on the table to pay for her meal. Didn't want them thinking she was faking it just for a free meal, after all. She then just laid down in bed, glancing over the side at her hat, scarf and parasol which lay on the floor in a heap. She had thrown them in a fit of anger when she finally concluded that she wasn't sure if she even wanted to be herself anymore. The image of Ruby had appeared, once again asking if killing her was worth it. That was when she threw her hat, scarf, and parasol at her, just to make her go away. Unfortunately, she lingered just long enough to say: 'I pity you. That mindset was the death of me, too.'

Neo had run out of tears to shed, so she just laid down in a fit of depression. She was too apathetic to do anything else at that moment. The world could end, and she'd not bat an eye. All she needed was time. Time, patience, and solitude. With a little self-reflection and solace, she could overcome these issues, figure out how to move forward and, most importantly, be able to stand on her own feet again.

Except…time was a luxury. And today was no different.

Her scroll was ringing. When she opened it up to see who was calling a mute person, it was an unknown number. She just assumed it was a wrong number, but decided to answer it, anyway. If some shmuck was trying to order a pizza or something, she could always mess with them for a quick laugh. Maybe such a prank would be what she needed to lighten up.

"Miss Politan, it's Ozpin," spoke a familiar voice on the other end. It caused Neo's eyebrows to raise in confusion. Why in the world was Ozpin calling her? "I apologise if this is poor timing, but would you kindly come to my office? Something important's come up and your presence is rather urgently requested." He then paused, as if he were expecting an answer. And he got one.

"Okay." She signed, allowing her gloves to give the verbal answer. She still never really liked using that tech, but she couldn't deny how useful it was. If only she could change the voice or somehow make it change tones for when she wanted to be sarcastic. Alas, she should count her blessings.

"Good, good. Please do hurry." His voice was oddly serious, but still retained his calm demeanour.

Neo drew a long, deep breath as she hung up the call and summoned the strength to stand up again. Honestly, it wasn't Ozpin, himself, which had brought her back onto her feet. It was the potential behind their meeting. Was it possible that, through his influence, he had managed to arrange an interview with Roman? If so, he was one of very few people whom she would spill the beans with if it meant finding out just how tied to this world she was. Why him? Because whilst he was a dangerous criminal, he was also a massive part of her life whether she liked it or not. Maybe that kind of information – a fighting chance – would be enough to swing him around into seeing things how she saw it. And if not, he would just rot in that cell, since Neo doubted his allies would spend the time and resources to rescue a man who was taken hostage by a little girl. He may have once been pivotal to their plans but, to them – he had served his part and the remainder of his jobs could easily be assigned to someone else. Bad guys tend to have a sense of pride, and being defeated by a schoolgirl would wound their egotism just by proxy.

She glanced down to her hat, scarf, and Hush as she rose to her feet. Roman Torchwick may not be an ally to her…but she wouldn't exactly call him an enemy, yet. They just had different views of the world. He may be greedy and arrogant, but he wasn't evil. Maybe, just maybe, he could prove to be a useful companion, with a little persuasion. Of course, all that depended on whether or not James Ironwood would stop being a whiny brat who thinks children are unable to do anything for themselves. In other words, she may as well already be coming up with espionage plans. Without really thinking, she put on her hat and neck scarf. It was odd how, even subconsciously, she felt less alone whilst wearing them. That being said, he hadn't exactly been reassuring recently.

Holding Hush also gave her some strange conflictions as of late. She'd not thought of it until just now, but this was a weapon which had taken many lives, despite its innocent appearance. By holding it – by using it – was she accepting those sins as her own? Or even just condoning them? She may not be with her memories…but she was still herself, right? Was she responsible for this weapon; past, present, and future? Maybe she was thinking about it too much. But…the thought always remained.

Am I a monster in the guise of a person?

She held Hush closely, as if they were a distant, lost friend who had gone astray. And then, she began to walk. One foot in front of the other. Silence shattering with every footfall. As she walked down the corridor, she saw her reflection out of the corner of her eye. Even with the hat helping to hide it, her hair was tangled and messy, an unrelenting cacophony of brown, pink and white streaks. Her skin was pale, eyes sunken and lifeless. Their colour was greyer than usual, and there was no light in their reflection. Her steps lacked grace. There was no bounce to her stride. She was a corpse, masquerading as a functional member of society. Neo could tell, by the way people were looking at her as she passed, that she no longer belonged. Not like this. Her presence was only dragging down the mood of others around her. But she no longer cared. This wasn't about them right now.

Neo soon arrived at the doors to the elevator. As if they had been expecting her, they opened before she could lift a finger. She stepped inside, holding onto Hush tighter as if it were a stress-reliever. And then, she felt her heart begin to sink as the floor began to rise. Up, up, and up she went but she only felt herself descending on the inside. It was like an impending doom was triggering every sixth sense of hers all at once. And when those doors opened, she understood why.

Ozpin sat calmly at his desk but wore a particularly serious expression. Maybe this was the most dangerous she had ever seen him. His mug slept in his hand, but it was either empty or lukewarm, judging from the lack of steam which emanated from it. Sat in front of the desk was General Iron-Rod-Up-My-Rear-End, who had turned his chair around to look her in her sullen eyes with his equally grim expression which just made her feel guilty. In fact, she could feel the sins of her past incarnation crawling upon her back.

And then there was the young, white-haired woman who stood behind him with an uptight expression on her face, too. Her hair featured a long, swooping bang at the front and a small bun at the back. Her eyes were a frosty blue, and a fine-looking blade was holstered upon her hip. Needless to say, she was probably one of those Atlesian Specialists which she'd heard so much about. Apparently, one had humiliated themselves by getting in a fight with Ruby's drunk uncle. Shame she missed that fight, by the way. Back on topic, she looked a lot like Weiss Schnee, if she was a bit older.

And then there was the presence in the room which screamed either: 'You have messed up,' or 'You are an inspiration to us all.' And she was pretty sure it wasn't the latter, despite her track record. About twenty Atlesian soldiers stood at the sides of the room, standing at attention, but with their free hands resting upon their weapons. Whenever Neo made eye contact with them, their grip only tightened. In fear? Or anticipation?

"Sit down, Neo." Ozpin spoke. For once, he had not addressed her by 'Miss Politan.' To her, it felt like he was her parent, and she was being called by her full name. Still, she nervously stepped forwards and had a seat at the desk next to Ironwood. The white-haired girl then sat on her opposite side, as if to block some kind of hypothetical escape route. Ironwood turned his chair around to face Ozpin, but his eyes never stopped seething with pure hatred which was aimed directly at her.

"You have a lot to answer for." Ozpin spoke, before a projector displayed a large holographic screen between the four of them. From the looks of things, this was surveillance footage from…some kind of military campus. A small timecard was displayed in the bottom left-hand corner. 4:12am. Early hours of the morning. A long hallway was shown, with various heavy-duty doors on the left and right and Atlesian military forces on patrol up and down. And then, suddenly, one of those patrolling officers' broke formation and attacked the other patrolling guard. There was a brief scuffle, before the aggressor was victorious in slashing the throat of their victim. They loomed over the man for a moment, their form shifting and shattering into glass petals, much like Neo often did. And then…she saw something unmistakeable. Pink and brown two-tone hair exactly like her own. A short girl with a parasol. Mismatched eyes. A crazed smile and psychopathic stare. A mirror image of herself.

She rifled through the man's pockets, before taking out a set of keys and walked calmly towards one of the cells, before inserting the key and opening the door. A man stepped out, and Neo immediately recognised him as Roman Torchwick. A brief word was spoken to the girl, who shook her head in response to some kind of question with a confused look on her face. The man shrugged, before opening up a nearby footlocker and taking back his hat, cane, and overcoat. In the meantime, the girl had wandered to the fire suppression systems and began disabling it. Once the screen displayed that all fire suppression controls were offline, she smashed the control panel with the curved handle of her parasol, before pulling some kind of fire dust grenade from her pocket. She pulled the pin, tossed it in the corner and then began to walk away with Roman. The camera shifted perspectives, revealing a trail of unconscious and blood-covered soldiers in the wake of the two, before the fire consumed everything in its wake and, inevitably, burned through the cameras, themselves. The screen soon faded to static, letting her see her own bewildered face looking back at her.

"I didn't let you see Roman, so you decided to level an entire facility, killing twenty-three soldiers, five civilians and two suspects, wounding fifty-seven, endangered the lives of the fire control groups and caused us to lose a lot of progress on the upcoming military projects? Just so you could ask that criminal your questions?!" James began, his voice slowly turning into a roar as his face turned redder and redder. "I did everything I could to make you satisfied, and you decide that slaughter and pyromania is the most logical path forward!?"

"It took a while to reclaim the evidence from the site after you torched it. I suppose you underestimated the data storage systems we had installed. You believed that by burning the place down as you left and silencing any witnesses, you could avoid detection. You struck at night, too, which explains why you are so tired, doesn't it?" The girl then added, with a look of smug superiority.

"I'm disappointed in you, Neo. I took a chance on you, and you have failed me. You betrayed my trust." Ozpin sighed, moving to take a sip of his cocoa, but stopping before it reached his lips. "I thought you were better than this. I suppose this goes to show the danger of false hope."

Neo was too aghast to protest. Too discombobulated as to how this could have happened. How was it possible that she had no recollection of this? She didn't want to do any of that! Was it possible that her semblance had somehow activated itself and made an illusion of her go out and rescue Torchwick? It had activated itself before in her sleep, so it wasn't entirely impossible. Saying that she didn't do it was foolhardy. Nobody in all of Remnant looks like her, and you could make out everything. Even the semblance, fighting style, skills and motives were all there. Saying it wasn't her was like protesting that the sky wasn't blue. A useless task.

'You have nothing to lose, now. Why not be the monster that they think you are?' inquired the devil on her shoulder.

'Submit yourself. Evidence will ultimately prove your innocence.' replied the angel.