Yo.

Not much to say. Shall we get on with things?

Start Chapter 49

Their arrival back into Evernight is surprisingly understated.

At one point, they're in the middle of nowhere just north of Vacuo, in some nondescript forest, and the next, they're walking through one of Raven's portals straight into the castle of the dread queen of the Grimm.

Honestly, Raven's semblance really is overpowered.

He wonders, idly, if Cinder would still be able to use them via her own magical mimicry, but Jaune decides not to fret about such too terribly much. There will be time for such things later.

For now, they've planning to do.

And a good deal of said planning is going to be spent wondering just what the hell they're all supposed to do now.

"Alright," Qrow clears his throat as they all arrive back in the many-windows-room. "So… The God of Light is trying to steal the God of Darkness' power to become complete, whatever that means, and the Silver-Eyed warriors were created to help him war against his brother. That's all well and good, but… what exactly do we do now?"

No one seems to have an answer to that question. Not Jaune, Not Ozma, and not even Salem herself. They're all sitting around rather pensively, clearly thinking about this and that.

"Does anyone have any ideas?" Jaune asks, and turns to look at everyone. "Because frankly, even if this was initially my theory, I didn't really… anticipate all of this."

Salem hums. "Admittedly, neither did I. I suspect Ozma is much the same." She looks towards the man, who nods himself. "We had no idea that the Gods would turn against one another. Had I known, I would've tried to pit them against each other instead of raising an army to face them."

"I have a question," Blake, who has decided to join the group after the previous day's rest, raises her hand. "Are we planning on trying to stop the God of Light's plans?"

"Well… I don't really know what to say, should we?" Jaune ponders. "I mean, sure, if the God of Light is planning on killing his brother, that's a dick move, but… if it doesn't affect us, then shouldn't we just… not get in a god's way?"

"That's certainly the most intelligent idea you've conjured up thus far." Athur Watts sneers.

Cinder glares his way, and the man just rolls his eyes.

"Killing a god would be fun!" Tyrian speaks up for the first time in days.

"Yes, thank you for your input, Tyrian." Watts runs a hand down his face, sighing. "If anyone has anything more valuable to add than that – which I confess I feel will not be terribly difficult – then please, speak your minds."

"Why don't we ask the lamp?"

Everyone seems to look around to see just who it is that's said this, and eventually, their eyes all turn to Nora; the one who's just spoken.

"What?"

"I mean, sure, the lamp can't answer questions about the gods," Nora says, as she walks over towards Oscar – or Ozma, as he is now – and holds her hand out expectantly. "But it can probably answer a cleverly-worded enough question. After all, Jinn found us a loophole with the Silver-Eyed warriors, didn't she?"

Ozma's face contorts somewhat, before he nods his head. "It… might work. Although I say that with much hesitance. I doubt Jinn will be able to answer whether or not the Gods intend on destroying the world."

"Then don't ask them about the gods." Nora says, like it's obvious. "Here, lemme' try!"

Ozma, seemingly entirely bewildered by Nora's complete and utter confidence, sort of just… hands over the lamp.

"Jinn!" Nora calls out, and time stops all around them.

"There is one more question in this era," Jinn speaks as she appears again, before looking down towards Nora and pausing. "Hm. You are not quite whom I expected."

"Is there currently an immediate threat to Remnant that could result in its destruction, besides the Grimm or Salem's forces?"

It… is such a simple question. In fact, it's almost stupidly simple. It's so simple, in fact, that Jaune can't help but marvel at how genius it is.

And as the others all seem to be having very similar thoughts, just staring at Nora.

Because if Jinn says no, then the Gods are no threat. But…

"There is," Jinn says, and then, with a smile, she states, "Although I am forbidden from telling you just what it might be."

"And that," Nora says, smirking victoriously. "Is more than answer enough."

Time returns to Evernight a moment later as Jinn's magic fades back into the lamp that Nora is holding, and then…

Well, they all just stare a bit dumbfoundedly at Nora, who currently looks about as smug as Jaune thinks a human could.

"Well?" She asks, placing her hands on her hips and cocking an eyebrow. "Anyone have anything to say?"

Jaune just laughs. "You're a genius, Nora."

"The wisest of us all." Ren says with a slight smile.

Cinder doesn't say anything, but Jaune can feel through their link that she's actually quite impressed with Nora. He decides not to voice that, however. If Cinder wants to, she'll share her amazement.

"That…" Cinder speaks a moment later, seemingly caught. "…Well done."

"Thanks, Cindy!"

Cinder just groans. "I believe I was quite clear as to my feelings on that nickname."

"CinCin?"

"I somehow like that one less."

"DerDer?"

Cinder takes a deep, steadying breath.

"No."

"Aww, you're no fun."

"Far be it from me to cut off this moment of smug revelry," Arthur Watts does just that, scowling rather fiercely, "but did the spirit of the lamp not just explicitly confirm that there is a threat to our entire world, and that, given she is unable to speak of it, it is of the Gods!?"

Oh. Right.

She definitely did do that.

"Well, then… I suppose that answers one of our questions," Ozma states, placing his cane in front of him and balancing on it. "The Gods mean to destroy Remnant; or, at the very least, they mean to take an action that will result in its destruction."

"And that means we have to stop them." Jaune finishes Ozma's thought.

There's an obvious elephant in the room on this particular matter, however. Almost every head within the many-windows-room turns to look at Salem, who is currently drumming a pattern into her table with her fingers, bobbing them up and down in a rhythm.

"Well, Salem?" Ozma asks, a tiny hope warring with a well-earned skepticism in his gaze. "What shall you do?"

Salem is quiet a long time after that. She is thinking; pondering her options. Jaune can sense it. Perhaps he can just feel the way that the entire room; no, perhaps the entire world, is hanging off her every word right now.

And then… she does something Jaune isn't quite expecting.

She looks at him.

Not any of her enforcers, to whom she has entrusted the fall of this world. Not to Ozma, the person with whom she has shared it for hundreds of thousands of years.

But at him. at Jaune Arc. Just some silly boy from a backwater Valean village called Domremy.

And somehow, she sees something in him that causes her to let out a quiet, accepting sigh.

"I feel normally I would be all for allowing this world to be destroyed," Salem speaks, and Jaune's heart lurches. "But in this specific case… I think ruining the plans of the Gods is slightly more enticing than watching this world come to ruin."

"So…" Jaune almost wants to cheer, but he won't let himself. Not yet. "You'll help us?"

Salem gives the tiniest of smiles at Jaune's obvious excitement almost rolling her eyes. "It seems I will."

Jaune does, then, cheer, and though he barely spots it out of the corner of his eye, he catches the tiniest of chuckles from the dread queen of the Grimm.

"That's great and all," Qrow steps forward, his arms crossed over his chest. "But how exactly are we meant to go and confront the gods in the first place?"

The lighthearted atmosphere gradually fades back away, replaced by the serious topic of conversation. There's a brief period where everyone stops to think about their plan of action, but in the end, it is ultimately Salem herself who speaks.

"I would think the solution to such a question would be obvious." She states. "We use what they already gave us for such a purpose."

She leans forward.

"We use the Relics."

Jaune nods his head, albeit skeptically. "Alright, sure, that sounds like a good idea… But uh… are we just supposed to ask for them, or…?"

"I believe I could likely talk with Theodore, and have him give us the Relic of Destruction from Vacuo without much difficulty." Ozma speaks. "As for the Relic of Choice… well, the crown may be slightly more difficult to obtain, given that Vale has fallen into a state of relative uncertainty. As for James, and the Relic of Creation… well, I myself was not around when certain events transpired, but I have heard about what went on back at Beacon."

Jaune coughs a tad awkwardly.

"I am not entirely sure if he would be willing to relinquish the Staff of Creation, especially not when it is the Relic itself that keeps Atlas in the sky."

Jaune's eyes widen. "It is?"

"Indeed." Salem speaks. "The given excuse that Gravity dust powers it? Nothing but a fallacy. The amount of dust that it would take to keep such a grand city aloft for even a day is astronomical. Far more than could be mined in the same time. The gravity dust within Atlas would only be enough to keep it up for a few hours, at most. The Relic of Creation is what keeps that place aloft, and nothing less could manage it."

"So, I feel as if convincing General Ironwood to give up what keeps his city in the sky… in the sky, when Atlas being airborne is its main defense… probably isn't going to happen?" Blake offers.

"Not in any short period of time, no," Ozma sighs. "Were that it could be so simple."

"Does the Relic of creation have the same limitations as Jinn?" Ren asks Ozma. "Or… well, could you explain it and what it is and is not allowed to do?"

"Well…" Ozma clears his throat. "In essence; the Staff of Creation allows one to create one thing. There cannot be more than one thing, but at the same time, one can ask of it a single infinite thing. Such as the fuel that keeps Atlas aloft; it is infinite, or as close to infinite as can be. But it is a singular kind of fuel, for a singular purpose, and even then, whatever design one comes up with is limited in that it must be something the user can describe. One must be able to provide him – or, I should say Ambrosius, the spirit that resides within the staff – a blueprint, in a word."

"And… if one has a blueprint, how… unconventional can one be with their designs?"

Ozma's face betrays that he isn't entirely sure where this is going, but he answers with, "Fairly so."

Ren nods his head, places a hand on his chin, and ponders a moment. The rest of their team all wait on him with bated breath, seeing if he has some grand plan.

Finally, he parts his lips, and says…

"If we can get to the Relic of Creation, then… I have a few ideas, on quite a few matters. There's been something I've been pondering a while, and… well, I won't get anyone's hopes up before I can speak with this 'Ambrosius', but…" Ren trails off.

Jaune nods. "You think we should try and get the Relic of Creation, then?"

"I do." Ren nods his head.

"Like I said, such will not be simple." Ozma reconfirms. "James is… at the best of times, he can be quite gung-ho. One might even say 'trigger-happy'. I fear that any attempt to try and obtain the Relic of Creation, even a peaceful one, might be met with force."

Salem lets out a laugh, then, and it is one that has Jaune freezing in place; reminded in that moment that this is the woman who'd haunted the very world of Remnant for eons.

"Then is our own strategy not obvious?" She speaks; nay, commands. "We will aim to negotiate. And if little Ironwood isn't willing to speak with us…"

"Then we will take what we need, regardless."

/

Getting to the Relic of Creation is going to be a lot easier said than done.

Or, well, that's what Jaune thinks, anyways, as they take their bullhead – well, it's definitely their bullhead, given they'd stolen it, but at this point they've had it about a month, so surely that makes it theirs? – and fly towards Atlas.

Jaune, however, is sitting there and thinking about just how weird his life had gotten within so short a period.

He'd only forged his transcripts to Beacon a year and some change ago, and now here he is, essentially on a mission to save the world before the gods from his childhood bedtime stories can destroy it!

He can't help but be a bit flummoxed about that.

"We should be coming up on Atlas within the next two hours." Ilia speaks as she emerges from out of the cockpit, apparently having set the bullhead to autopilot. "Until then we've got clear skies with nothing but open ocean beneath us."

Jaune nods, and a few of the others give noncommittal responses as well. It hadn't been all of them to go on this little soiree; Pyrrha, Mercury, Yang, Ruby, Summer, and Qrow had all stayed behind back in their camp in north Vacuo.

That leaves Jaune, Cinder, Ren, Nora, Emerald, Ilia, Raven, Blake, and Oscar headed towards Atlas.

And Jaune is really starting to feel the tension in the air with Raven and Ozma trapped with one another in a confined space.

On the bright side, Ozma has wisely chosen to allow Oscar to have almost complete control for the entire ride, which has kept things mostly cordial. It hadn't stopped Oscar quietly trying to start up a conversation with Raven, and earning a glare in response, but at the same time, it had kept Raven mostly quiet, sitting near the back of the bullhead on her own.

And, well…

"How's Summer?" He asks as he wanders over and sits down beside Raven.

The woman eyes him out of the corner of her eye, as if testing whether or not he's truly committed to talking to her. They both sit silently for another four or five seconds before Raven finally sighs out a, "No better, no worse. Just… stagnant."

Jaune nods. "That's… not too bad, is it?"

"Compared to what could happen? No." Raven admits, shaking her head. "Doesn't mean I still wasn't hoping she'd do better. Ruby and Yang kept trying to get her to talk again, but it wouldn't happen. And I…"

Raven trails off, and Jaune wonders what it is she'd been about to say.

He gives her time to continue, if she wants, but when five seconds turn to ten, he understands that she won't, and carries up the torch of the conversation himself.

"Well, I understand why you're disappointed, but try not to be too hard on yourself."

Raven barks out a laugh. "How? All of this is my fault."

Jaune wishes he could more confidently disagree with Raven, but in the end… what she's saying is true, in a way. If she'd not stayed away from Summer for so long, then… perhaps she could have prevented her from becoming so lost.

Thinking such things, however, isn't going to do anyone any good.

"Even if it is," Jaune argues, "Then that's even more reason to stay focused on the here and now; on what can be done. Being angry at yourself isn't going to help anyone; least of all Summer."

Raven laughs again, albiet softer; sadder.

"You're a good talker for a kid."

"Thank you, I think?"

Raven shakes her head. "Just… maybe pick your battles. You're trying to simultaneously redeem the Queen of the Grimm, save the entire world, pay attention to your girlfriend, and make some old bat who betrayed the only people she ever loved feel better about herself? You've got too much on your plate, kid; anyone can see that."

Jaune shrugs. "Maybe. That doesn't mean I'm just going to accept that I can't do it, though."

Raven shakes her head, but Jaune can see the smile on her face even so.

"I can see why they're all so eager to follow you," Raven speaks, and Jaune feels a touch of embarrassment at being complimented. "You've got a lot of the same qualities that Summer herself did, back when she was our leader. That endless optimism; that belief that no matter what, things would work themselves out. That the only thing we needed to do was our best, and it would be enough."

"Well, I just–"

"Don't lose that, kid." Raven speaks, smiling despite the obvious melancholy hanging about her. "Fight to keep it. No matter who tries to take it from you."

"I… I will. You're… not the first person to tell me that."

Raven nods her head. "Your girl, I assume?"

Jaune's lips curl up. "Yeah."

Raven watches him a moment before giving off a satisfied breath.

"Take care of each other. And no matter what happens… don't ever let her go."

"I won't. Not for anything."

"Good." Raven says, and Jaune can see the regret hanging in her eyes as she turns away from him, unable to meet his gaze any longer.

"That's good."

After that, Jaune sits back and relaxes for the next two or so hours, until eventually, they're set to come up on Atlas at any minute.

And then suddenly, Ilia emerges from out of the cockpit once more, a look of utter bewilderment set on her face.

"Uh, guys? You maaay wanna' come see this."

That is enough for their entire band to become curious enough to absolutely overload the cockpit, and poor Emerald, who's been sitting in the copilot seat for nearly the entire ride.

"That's…" Oscar – no, by the tone, it's Ozma – starts. "…James… what have you…"

Jaune sets his eyes upon that which lies before them, and his mouth parts without him meaning it to.

What seems to be a hundred battleships float around the flying city of Atlas – the city itself suspended perpetually in the air thanks to the power of the Relic of Creation. It's like a beehive, constantly swarming with smaller ships that go from the mainland towards the cruisers, and back.

"He's barricaded Atlas." Ozma answers the unspoken question hanging about them all. "Likely, he's declared martial law as well. His panic at what happened back at Beacon, and especially with what happened at Haven more recently… He's been given all the evidence he needs to confirm his worst fears, batten down the hatches, and dig in his heels."

"That's–" Jaune speaks, before he realizes just what it is they've walked themselves into. "…He thinks Salem is going to try and take the Relic of Creation, along with the Winter Maiden."

"He does." Ozma answers. "Luckily, I am present. Hopefully, I can talk him down from–"

"That might work normally," Jaune feels a bit odd cutting Ozma off, but he does regardless. "Except Ironwood already believes that Salem has corrupted a good deal of former Beacon students; students who aided and abetted the freedom of one of Salem's own agents, and whom he probably hates with a great deal of passion…"

Ozma looks over towards Jaune, and Jaune himself can see the exact moment when the immortal puts what Jaune is trying to say together.

"…And we just so happen to be flying into Atlas with three of those same students, and that very agent of Salem, in our bullhead."

"Yeah." Jaune says, sighing all the while.

"Somehow I don't think we're going to be given a warm welcome."

End Chapter 49

So, we have our heading!

I'd originally planned on Cinderella ending within the next ten or so chapters, but then... well, I had some new ideas that would give me time to complete a few more character arcs, and finish out a few lingering plot threads. Suffice it to say that we're in the endgame at this point, but that we've still got probably 20ish chapters remaining.

Anyways, see you all next week!