Woah, would you look at that! Depression in the subsequent volumes after the comic school moments! :D

The tent was hastily erected, devoid of furniture except for a low table pilfered from a random Mistrali village. Cushions served as makeshift seats, and everyone, excluding Mercury, Emerald, Vernal, and Raven, cleared the premises. The conversation demanded utmost secrecy.

"Sit," Raven commanded, her tone leaving no room for disobedience.

"Aren't you going to remove your mask?" Mercury asked, receiving only a silent stare in response. There was no hostility in the act; he had shared his thoughts on the mask with Emerald. "Oookaayyy... weird."

"Let me handle the talking," Emerald interjected. Serious conversations required a more adept speaker. Despite Mercury's recent miraculous Nat 20 rolls on charisma checks, she doubted it would happen again.

Mercury shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Emerald read about the Branwen tribe, she had done her research when they were sent to Mistral. Not many bandits were memorable but there were always reports of their leader. Someone that Emerald recognized. She was confident she could somehow get something out of this conversation.

With Mercury's approval, Emerald spoke with a measured tone. "Miss Branwen, we're searching for a specific individual. Your bandit tribe is infamous, and I know you've roamed throughout Mistral. We need... how do I put this-"

"Just get to the point."

Darn, she rolled low on that one.

Mercury took over once more, seeing that Emerald lowered her head in disappointment. "Good talking, Em. We're looking for a maiden, dunno if you know about-"

"Maiden?" Raven asked, her attention snapped to a maximum. "Are you working for Salem?"

"You know her?"

Raven narrowed her eyes behind her mask. "Well enough."

"Yes, but not directly. We work for Cinder Fall, who operates under Salem," Emerald explained.

"Cinder Fall…" Raven mused. "Doesn't ring a bell."

"The Fall Maiden." Emerald boldly clarified.

Mercury interrupted. "Not right now though, only partially."

Raven contemplated the implications for her tribe. Two people searching for the maiden, yet neither had concrete information. From what Raven gathered, Cinder was too proud to admit failure to Salem, especially after a setback that cost her dearly. Avoiding interaction would be suspicious, but too much cooperation would draw Salem's attention. Thus, feigning concern and offering token assistance was the best compromise.

"...I heard about an attack on Vale. The White Fang attempted a breach, but they failed when experimental Atlesian equipment intervened. Was that why your Fall Maiden is only 'partially' a maiden?" Raven probed.

Emerald reluctantly confessed, "...Yes."

"And they aren't Atlesian equipment," Mercury added.

Raven arched a brow. "They?"

Emerald nudged Mercury's side. "Merc, not now."

"Fine," Mercury grumbled.

Raven fell silent, finally removing her helmet to sip tea prepared by Vernal. Emerald felt nervous; had they offended her in some way? Meanwhile, Mercury squinted at Raven, she looked familiar to him.

"What I gather is that Cinder failed to acquire the entire maiden powers. Presumably, you have a means to take those powers, most likely provided by Salem. Now, due to your failure, someone else is handling the task. Cinder, and by extension, both of you, are tasked with finding this Maiden."

Emerald did not take it well, her sweat was practically sticking to her hands. Even Mistral's isolated regions had heard of her saviour's failure… Cinder's failure. "Y-yes. Everything you said is true."

Setting down her teacup, Raven smiled cryptically. "I'm intrigued. Such a sizable force thwarted by Atlesian tools? Regardless of how experimental, the White Fang aren't pushovers. I've learned not to trust the narratives spun by news outlets. So, tell me – what really happened?"

"Team RWBY got in the way," Mercury admitted.

"But a team of juveniles isn't really a threat. There's something more, isn't there? Perhaps the equipment they utilized. I'd like more information about that aspect," Raven prodded.

"Tanks." Mercury had the biggest shit-eating grin directed at his partner in crime. The talk about tanks was bound to come up no matter what.

The unfamiliar term intrigued Raven. "...Explain."

"The term caught on; some of our men heard it during battle. They aren't just machines or equipment; they're alive, and as we were told, they possess magic, much like the Maidens or Salem."

"It's a theory; it could be a Semblance," Emerald interjected.

"Well, none of us are sure but I'm leaning to the magic thing. A lot of the tanks share the same abilities like changing their size or literally disappearing and reappearing out of thin air, I don't think tanks can get pregnant to genetically pass down semblances. Unless machine sex is possible-"

"Okay! We get it Merc, it's probably magic."

None of them noticed the concerned and possibly rage-induced contortion on Raven's features. "...How is that possible?" the face of a certain headmaster entered her thoughts.

"The machine sex thing or magic?" Even Vernal who was listening in almost choked to death at Mercury's words.

Emerald couldn't help but slap her palm over her face in frustration. "Dear Gods, why am I stuck with you? Tangents aside, do you know where to find the Spring Maiden?"

Raven's clouded mind barely registered Mercury's words; her focus was solely on the action she needed to take. "...No, but we will help you find her. You can report back to Cinder that we are open to an arrangement if it means the survival of our tribe." She signalled to her aide. "Vernal, escort these two out. We're done here."

Once they were led out of the tent, Vernal voiced her concerns. "What will we do, Raven?"

Raven shook her head. "Not 'we,' Vernal. I'll handle everything. There's someone I need to talk to."

"You're going?"

"Not yet. I have to ensure our relocation continues. It might take a few hours, especially with all the recent downpours."

With that, they both left the tent to brief her men outside about the situation. It would take a few minutes to repack what they had taken out, but they were confident they would leave no traces for anyone to follow in Mistral's dense growth.

...

...

...

"AMX, did you get all that?"

In a corner of the room, uninvited guests rolled to a stop. Shapes vaguely resembling turrets turned as voices echoed.

"I'm not deaf, Abrams," a French-accented voice replied. "Why do you Americans have to act so condescending all the time?"

"Gramps?" Abrams searched for the ageing WWI-era tank, slowly making its way to join the others.

"Loud and clear, mate," the British tank responded.

Abrams smiled, if only he had a mouth to do so. "Bitchin', we've got a President to protect. Team RWBY sounds like our leader has been busy putting up a reputation."

"I prefer the term 'Queen'."

Abrams sighed. "Gramps, no."

Meanwhile…

While they were being led out, Mercury was glad that his luck still remained. To him, the trek throughout Mistral was cut a little bit short. They were not going to be alone, they still had to search but at least it was some good news.

"Better than expected," Mercury admitted, finally being able to relax even for a little bit.

Emerald scoffed. "Still no maidens, Mercury."

After Mercury was sure no one was within earshot, he whispered to Emerald, "Notice her saying things about protecting her tribe? Why would Raven say that, hmm? She knew Salem, maybe we could make her do more than just promise to look for the maiden."

"I don't know. We have to report to Cinder, for now, don't do anything stupid. They're already helping us."

Mercury paused, sensing a shift in Emerald's demeanour. "...You're scared. Scared of what exactly?"

"Nothing," Emerald quickly replied.

"Doesn't seem like nothing."

Emerald grabbed Mercury's wrist and yanked him forcefully, forcing him to face her. "Look, I don't want us acting without orders. If we act now, Cinder might bear the consequences of our mistakes. I don't want to repay her like that. So, please, don't jeopardize anything by picking a fight with bandits. Salem might know Raven, but that doesn't matter. What matters is finding the maiden, and the Branwen tribe is here to help."

"You seem pretty sure about that. Are you trying to avoid risks? All for Cinder? She probably doesn't even care about us; we're stuck here without her. That says a lot."

"You don't know anything, Mercury."

Mercury shrugged and ripped his wrist from Emerald's grip. "Whatever you say. I'm just glad we have a reason to head back."

Ozpin gazed out the window with a furrowed brow, the weeks leading up to the Vytal Festival had been silent. Despite their efforts to chase down whoever intervened in the arrest of Cinder Fall, the culprits remained elusive.

He berated himself for assuming Salem would shift her focus; avoiding the strong was the very basics of strategy. Prediction wasn't always an easy task and a man with as many mistakes as him certainly proved that he was still human.

A killer, Tyrian Callows and Hazel Rainart—neither had been sighted.

If only he could maintain a facade of peace while hunting down a terrorist organization. If any astute observer questioned why more Atlas soldiers roamed the streets, the media would grow suspicious. Only his closest allies and a select few investigators could operate discreetly enough not to arouse public chatter.

He was already under scrutiny when he invited the Atlas military. He faced a dilemma: increase surveillance, risking negative public sentiment, or maintain a small group of observers to maintain public comfort. Soldiers stalking the street weren't exactly inviting rainbows and sunshine.

Ozpin chose the latter—it had always been his preference. Unfortunately, it proved inadequate.

How had they missed it? Bombs planted without their knowledge? They had a database of ex-White Fang members; their faces should have been recognized by scanners. They updated the code for security, that'd be impossible, in his mind.

This was why he needed Ironwood. The General had advocated for more boots on the ground. With the situation slowly unravelling, he had chosen to escalate their response, regardless of public opinion.

The elevator hissed, its metal doors gliding open gracefully as the white-clad General entered, a smile on his face. "Ozpin, good to see you. Your elevator needs attention; Specialist Rose had a point—it takes longer than expected to close. Ten seconds just to shut after I entered."

Ozpin settled into his chair, setting his coffee aside. "Ah, James. Good morning, and my apologies for the constant meetings ...and the elevator."

"With all that's been happening, it doesn't feel constant. It's been a rollercoaster of emotions for me. One day Penny's winning as she should in the tournament, and the next Glynda's congratulating me on Penny's team defeating Miss Adel's."

"Let me guess, her praises felt more like daggers?"

"She's always been the same, Oz. It's not my fault lady luck decided to make her team fight Penny."

Ozpin chuckled, Glynda was always critical of Ironwood and the last duos match from yesterday put a bruise on Glynda's respect for the General. "I can talk to her about her favouritism. Just as RWBY is to me, CFVY is her golden child. I understand the bitterness of losing the Vytal Tournament, especially to Penny."

"Continuing from my streak, our Atlesian Tanks have seen significant success. After weeks of adjustments, we've resolved the engine issues. These tanks will revolutionize our firepower-to-cost ratios. Gunpowder is less reactive and more adaptable, unlike mechs with their stringent safety protocols. Dust rounds are weaker; excessive dust results in unstable rounds. Gunpowder, being less volatile, offers faster muzzle velocity. It's remarkable—the benefits are immense. Planes, however, pose different challenges; we're still working on solutions."

Ironwood's enthusiasm reminded Ozpin of Ruby. Understandable; this was technology from another world, even if some aspects of it were comparatively underdeveloped.

Ozpin acknowledged his dedication to military advancements. "Your commitment is commendable, but remember, this isn't an excuse to station tank battalions all over Remnant."

Ironwood waved dismissively. "Don't worry, Oz. We can't even field that many. Requests for human control limit us to three: a commander/loader, a gunner, and a driver. No pesky AI making things difficult when hijacked, just guiding systems we already use."

"Miss Rose will undoubtedly be pleased with the incorporation of her suggestions. Easy replacement, good crew comfort, an appropriately sized gun, reliable suspension, armour tough enough to withstand Grimm attacks yet light enough not to impair the performance, and three .50 cals."

"I still don't comprehend her fixation on that calibre; we could go smaller for standardization in light infantry units," Ironwood complained.

"There's no such thing as too many .50 cals, as she insists."

Ironwood suddenly sighed. "Then there's the bad news. I can't even enjoy our successes without being jolted back to the reality that evil never rests. I've brought information regarding the bomb threats."

He placed his scroll on Ozpin's desk, and holographic images of dismantled and intact dust bombs sprang to life. "We scoured every inch of concrete; thankfully, the stadium was clear. I've given my men some rest, but much remains to be done. The terrorists are still out there. Specialist Schnee has just been briefed on her role."

"I'm relieved she's recovered. Thanks to Mr. Torchwick, it could've taken much longer. Shall we proceed with the full report?"

Ozpin had a rough idea of what might have occurred. The radical White Fang had hidden and bided their time, cunningly planting bombs just significant enough to avoid immediate threat unless detonated en masse.

They could investigate every Faunus' residence, but racial profiling would invite severe criticism.

…

Odd, Ozpin thought. It dawned on him that the General had yet to start his report.

"Is there something wrong, James?" Ozpin inquired.

There was a weightiness in Ironwood's gaze, mingled with guilt. "Oz, I need to ask. Why do you trust him? I know he's provided valuable insider knowledge, but... is there no other way? We don't even know if he plans to betray us."

"True. I trust him as much as anyone else. I understand who he is and his motivations. Roman Torchwick's survival is his driving force, particularly his desire to protect someone else. It wasn't challenging to deduce; I had our professors probe him for reactions."

"Is that why you haven't told Rose… because you don't trust her in the same way?"

A sharp thud of the coffee mug distorted the hologram. It was a startled reaction rather than a deliberate display of anger. "...Please, James. We've had this conversation multiple times."

"Ozpin, it's a choice you can change. Either tell her, bring her into the circle, and access the power of her tanks, or admit your mistakes, vowing never to involve her powers. This includes both her tanks and her eyes."

Ozpin clasped his hands together, seeking solace. Ironwood felt the weight of the situation; he was deeply committed to justice. Their values aligned, but recent events had brought Ozpin's lie into sharp focus.

Technically, it wasn't a lie; it was something Ozpin held close. "James, it's not a simple choice, nor is it the only one. Rose is the school's top student. She may not want to stop fighting Grimm."

"Ruby Rose will fight Grimm and eventually attract Salem's attention. If that's the case, keeping a secret from her is the worst possible decision when working with her. We've revealed the world's secrets to criminals; why not Ruby?"

"I am merely fulfilling the wishes of Qrow." Ozpin didn't see the hypocrisy in his actions compared to what he was saying. "Miss Rose will inevitably ask questions, she is a curious child and one who would push herself in every situation. I can trust you and the others because we have one goal in mind to focus on; that is the protection of the world… and the defeat of Salem."

Those last words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Ironwood met Ozpin's gaze with a solemn look. "The most harrowing experience for a commander is to inform a mother that her son has died under their command. This situation is no different, Oz. It wasn't your fault that we didn't know the tanks weren't powered by gas... but by magic."

"Informing her will lead to the same outcome—she'll ask more about Salem. Especially when she questions the reasons for her enrollment. It's as if she has a path pointing directly to Sum-"

Ironwood approached Ozpin, a visible relief relaxing the tension on his face. "So this is about Summer? Oz, she died because of her own convictions. Being a Huntress is never easy, and I'm certain that if anyone here had the opportunity to kill Salem, they would do so without hesitation. Summer's attempt may have been unsuccessful, but that's the risk we all take in the pursuit of killing the greatest of evils."

That word again, kill. It made Ozpin uneasy.

"...James, I do not intend to tell her. Losing T-34-57 and Hellcat because we falsely believed gas was enough to sustain them is a mistake I am willing to bear in secret. Using Yamato to test magic as a factor is another I wish to keep close to my heart. Now we know even a minuscule trace of magic can sustain them—Grimm too, with a significant concentration. I'll use this knowledge to prevent similar errors."

Neither of them budged. The conversation flowed as before, Ironwood persistently attempting to bring Ruby into the inner circle while Ozpin sought limited intervention without Ruby's knowledge of their true enemy.

"One day, Ozpin, you'll regret this choice. Keeping secrets like this only breeds regret. One lie piled upon another won't end well; it's best to dismantle the stack while it's still small."

"Regret, huh? An old friend..." Ozpin mused, steering the conversation elsewhere, much to Ironwood's chagrin. "Your report?"

For now, Ironwood decided to let it go. "...I'll begin with what we know."

Much later...

Half an hour of continuous discussion passed. Ideas and theories regarding Salem's presence were exchanged. The conversation delved into the mundane aspects: logistics, assigning tasks, hiring hunters, and bolstering city guards.

"...We might need more personnel in the city. A public catastrophe would expose our incompetence. Losing public trust will lead to dire consequences. Allowing them to speculate about the threat we face is better than facing a disaster unprepared. That's all."

"One question: why target civilians?"

"Oz, that's an obvious one. They're terrorists. We know they aim to spread fear; causing mass casualties achieves that. They've had this plan before, and I think they'll attempt to replicate it. With limited manpower without compromising Vale's security in the frontiers, searching public spaces seems our best option."

Ozpin nodded. "So all that's left is to find them. But if they were cunning enough to play the long game, why not detonate the bombs at the first sign of tampering? Surely they'd notice a missing bomb or loitering hunters and soldiers."

Ironwood shook his head. "I don't know, Oz. Even if we unravel that mystery, our priority is locating the threat. No matter how exhausting it becomes."

"...You may go. I'll inform the council about the need for more hunters without arousing suspicion about why we require them. As for Ruby... I'll take some time to consider it."

"Thank you, my friend."

To those who use FFnet more than me, is it common to not get notifications at random intervals? I've not been receiving them for a while, what the heck is happening to this site :sob:

Also, I am thinking of yet another RWBY fic despite not finishing this one or the other stories. I'm sorry but the thought of making a Grimm-centered fic piqued my interest. Don't punish me for having a perma-hiatus disorder. :anger: :sob: :anger: :sob: