Note: Another chapter already? Yep! That's like three in a week. Probably going to stop updating so frequently now. Thanks, y'all for the excitement. I'm excited too. And who knows, maybe Team RWBY's plan won't spiral into catastrophe like usual! Maybe. Hopefully. Enjoy.

"So, how are we supposed to convince Ironwood to let us leave the Academy?"

"I don't actually think that's going to be a problem. We didn't cause any trouble for him last time. Penny did, and he'd care if she came with us, but she isn't."

"Hell, the last time we left, we almost died. That sounds like a good reason to let us leave again."

"Exactly. Our main goal is instead to convince Jacques."

"My father?"

"If Jacques demands we leave the Hyrda, Ironwood will feel compelled to agree. He might send someone to keep track of us, but I can take care of that."

"Um, isn't the entire point of this operation that my father doesn't find out it's happening?"

"And won't Jacques get crazy at the idea of us being off in the city? Because, you know, we almost died last time?"

"Right… so here's my idea."

Weiss took steady, rhythmic breaths as she stared at her Scroll. Every time she saw that name appear, dread filled her up to her neck. She had to remember that she had power here—even if it wasn't true, it would convince him. She sat up straight on her bunk, trying to exert an air of authority. When her father answered the screen, his contemptuous smile was hidden beneath his mustache.

"Weiss, dear. How have you been?"

"I've been well, father," she said with a small grin. "How are you?"

"Oh, let's cut the bullshit, Weiss. What do you want?"

"Who said I wanted anything?"

"You only ever call when you want something," Jacques huffed. "Just get it out?"

Weiss held her tongue. Her father was in his study, surrounded by tomes of novels he would never read, his face aglow in the light rays of a fire. He constantly shifted in his chair and scratched his mustache. She thought she could hear faint screaming in the background. "Is everything all right?"

"Hmm? Oh, everything's fine," he grumbled. "Your mother is being her usual self. I swear to the Gods sometimes, I should just buy her a winery."

"Oh. I see."

"So what do you want?"

Weiss kept smiling. "The girls and I were wondering if you would allow us to take a trip into Atlas this weekend."

He scrunched his nose. "A… trip?"

"A business expedition," Weiss explained. "You know, I was just looking at the Team RWBY Fund's latest customer data. Did you know that the Kingdom of Atlas purchases fewer goods from the Fund than any other Kingdom? It's our least profitable revenue source, and I was speaking with Blake about it, and she believes it's because of Atlas's limited communication structure. Everything is so difficult to get past the censors here, and that means our reach into this market is highly reduced. What's a better way to get a foothold than personally venturing into the Kingdom, going around to local business, building partnerships—"

"No."

Weiss was expecting resistance, but she was still surprised by the bluntness of her father's rejection. "Father, let me explain."

"No, you explained fine. It's not happening," Jacques said, tapping his fingers together.

"May I ask why not?"

"You know perfectly well why not. I don't have the memory of a goldfish, Weiss. A few weeks ago, I let you go into Vale, and look at what happened."

"That's the City of Vale," Weiss countered. "You know how degenerate those people are. Of course, it's a crime-ridden hellhole. We just want to go to the Upper Shelf. The Exodious District. We'll have Winter right beside us the entire time."

"Weiss, this is like déjà vu. You don't make a reckless decision and then expect me to let you do it all over again."

"But father, think of the possibilities," Weiss said quickly. "We are currently going through a huge surge of momentum since we captured that terrorist. Search results through the Team RWBY Fund have never been higher, but they are lagging in Atlas. I don't want us to miss out on any opportunities because we are being overly cautious."

How about this? If you want to set up some business deals, let me get you in contact with a friend of mine. We can do the whole thing over your Scroll so you don't miss any classes—"

"No!" Weiss said quickly. Her father snapped to attention. Just outside of his view, her teammates were staring at her, watching her try to navigate the delicate conversation. Weiss immediately cleared her throat. "I mean, um, n-no… that won't work."

"It will totally work! It's how most things are done these days," Jacques grunted. "Your lack of acumen in this field is showing."

"I don't think it would be good if people knew about our connections to you, though. You really shouldn't do any more work on our behalf."

"Nonsense. No one will find out this way. My partners know how to keep things quiet. This is safer, quicker, and just better all around."

"Yes… no, but… I mean…"

Weiss froze. She wasn't actually expecting Jacques to give her a reasonable counteroffer. Most of her preparation involved listing reasons why it would be good for her Team RWBY Fund to venture out, not necessarily be in the city. Her father's suspecting glare was drawing up horrible memories, and even though she hadn't said a word about their true intentions, she could already see the gears turning in his mind, his suspicion rising. Her team was relying on her. Winter was relying on her, and she was choking it all away.

She was thinking up a new argument when Yang suddenly reached forward and snatched her Scroll away from her. Despite Weiss's protests, she carried it to the other end of the room as her face filled the screen.

"Heyyyyy! What's going on, Mr. Schnee?"

Jacques's distaste faded. "Oh, Yang. Were you there the whole time?"

"Yeah. I'm so sorry about that," Yang said sincerely—or at least, that was how she sounded. "The truth is: going into the City of Atlas was actually my idea. I was just afraid that you wouldn't listen to me, and I thought Weiss would be better at convincing you. I'm really sorry."

Jacques sighed. "Yang, dear, don't be afraid of asking me for things."

"I know, I know," Yang agreed. "You just… have such a strong presence. It's hard sometimes."

Jacques stifled a laugh. "Well, it's not the first time I've heard that."

Yang laughed, too, and her teammates stared at her in shock. This was not even remotely close to the plan, but Jacques sounded… happy. He was never happy. Of course, Yang could put a smile on anyone's face, and her flattery was surely a great assistant—along with the fact her cleavage was somewhat out and she was already hotter than the fucking sun. Weiss just watched in amazement as Yang naturally slipped back into the topic at hand.

"But so like… you don't have social media, right?"

"No."

"Okay, so this may be hard to explain, but my generation doesn't really go for, like, corporate stuff. We view things more as experiences. We want things that scream authenticity. Like… okay, I'm sure your business partners are great, right? But ugghhh… watching influencers meet up with corporate sponsors out of the blue is just so unappealing. It's like you can see the fakery."

"That's what marketing is for, dear," Jacques reminded her.

"But our marketing isn't working," Yang reminded him back. "That's why you need a natural brand extension. You know what I'm talking about, right?"

"I… no," Jacques frowned. "I can't say I do."

Yang feigned a gasp. "You don't?"

"I know lots of marketing terms, but I've never heard of that."

"Oh, that's… oh no," Yang shook her head. "Mr. Schnee, you really have to get on social media more. It's what all the most popular people do these days."

"I mean, no one ever told me."

"Well, how old are your advisors? Do you have anyone born later than the sixties?"

"I don't think so."

Yang shook her head even more vibrantly. "That's something you should consider. You know, generational divides only get bigger."

"Okay, okay," he sighed. "So, what are you thinking."

"Like, here's what my vision was: Team RWBY's Tour Through Atlas. We go through the city, exploring all the culture, and the local stores, we meet with people, we talk with them. We live with them. I mean, not literally live with them. But we live—with them. If you were my age, you'd totally understand what I'd mean."

"I'm not sure I do, but it's something like you engaging in a 'stream' as you tour the wealthier parts of the city?"

"Yeah, exactly," Yang explained. "We spend the whole weekend in the city. We stream our activities. Connect with everyone. You'll know where we are at all times—okay, maybe not while we're eating or sleeping, but like every other time. Winter can be there keeping an eye on us, and we can keep her out of view of the cameras so no one bothers her. This is the kind of stuff that gets people talking, Mr. Schnee. Trust me on this."

"And you'd want to do it this weekend?"

"We have to strike while the iron is hot," Yang stated. "We should have done this immediately. My generation has awful attention spans. Any longer, and we miss our shot."

Jacques struggled to find his words. "Well, I… I don't know enough to challenge you on this, I'm afraid. I'm a bit too old for all of this KnightsWeb stuff."

"Oh, you're not old," Yang insisted. "You're, what, mid-thirties?"

Jacques could not hold back his laugh a second time. "Oh, you're good, Yang! You're really quite good!"

Yang winked. "That's what people tell me."

"All right, all right," he said, finally relaxing in his chair. "Maybe this isn't a terrible idea—if you stick to the Upper Shelf and Winter is there. I'm not going to tolerate another incident like last time, but I do acknowledge it wasn't entirely your fault. So many Valians can't be trusted, as I'm sure you're aware. Just… can you please put Weiss back on? There's something I need to ask her."

"Sure thing!" Yang said with a huge grin. She waved Jacques goodbye and handed Weiss back over the Scroll. The ex-heiress did her best to remain composed, though she was in awe of how well Yang was able to turn that around. When she finally put her face back on screen, she was sure to be smiling as politely and sweetly as her father expected from her.

"You should always let her do the talking," Jacques claimed. "She's much better than you."

"I'm… aware of that."

"All right, how about this?" Jacques suggested. "I will permit you to go into the city this weekend. I'll arrange a hotel room for you and speak with Ironwood about giving you transport. But I'd like you to do something for me as well."

Weiss tried to manage her emotions. "What would you like?"

"You're going to be in the city, yes?" Jacques's smile took up the screen. "Why don't you and your girls come by and have lunch at my manor?"

Weiss's stomach dropped. Lunch with Jacques? Even being in the same room as him made her want to hurl. Of course, he wanted her close to him, to put his fingers along her spine and fiddle with her life like a crude puppet. She could see his satisfaction creep over every inch of his face. He didn't want anything to do with her for most of her life. Now that she was famous, he wanted her company. It was repulsive. Plus, her whole team? Unacceptable. Yang and Blake needed time to meet up with Sienna, and that—well, actually…

"That… that sounds great, except…" Weiss nervously looked to her team for support. Ruby gave her an encouraging nod. "Do you think maybe it could just be Winter and I meeting you for lunch?"

"Hmm? What about the rest of you?"

"Well, Ruby doesn't want to leave the Academy," Weiss explained, "so it's not like it would be a full team meeting. And Yang and Blake…" Shit, she needed an explanation. Quick. "They were talking about having lunch in the city by themselves."

"What? No, no," Jacques insisted. "The entire point is that you stay together. I don't want you breaking off in the city on your own."

Think, Weiss, think.

"No, but see… they really want to have lunch alone. It would be rude to take that from them."

"Rude?"

No, think of something better.

"I mean… look, father, they…"

Weiss glanced at her team for support, but they couldn't give her any. They gestured wildly at her, though she had no hope of deciphering it. Instead, a stray thought entered her mind, and she went fully for it. She leaned into Scroll, covering her mouth so the others wouldn't be able to hear her.

"I think," she whispered, "they might be… homosexuals."

Jacques stared blankly at the camera. He was slow to react.

"R-really?"

"I think," Weiss said through gritted teeth, still pretending to speak in secret. "You know you can't tell from looking."

"That's… surprising," Jacques admitted, somewhat disappointed.

"Right. And I don't want them doing… gay shit in front of you," Weiss stated. "You know, it's not my business, but—"

"No, right, I see," Jacques said quietly. "It might be better if they have their… privacy then."

"That was my thought."

"I'll… see if I can work out some details. But you will still come over for lunch? You and Winter?"

"Yes. Yes, of course," Weiss promised, straightening herself out. "I would be so glad to come and spend a few hours with you for lunch."

"Excellent. Well… I think I should go now."

"Right. Thank you, father. We won't forget this kindness."

"I'm sure you won't. Farewell."

"Goodbye."

Weiss hung up the Scroll and collapsed into her bunk, the air rushing out of her lungs. She only had a moment to relax before Ruby punched on top of her.

"That was perfect!" the young Huntress exclaimed, hugging Weiss tightly. "You can lead Winter away, and Yang and Blake will have time to meet with Sienna and then set up with Stiltskin. That couldn't have gone better!"

"Thanks, Ruby," Weiss wheezed. "Please stop crushing me now."

Yang pouted. "Hey, I did like most of the work."

"You were great too, Yang," Ruby promised.

"Thanks." Yang heard a snicker, and it was only then that she noticed Blake trying to hold back her laughter, keeping her hands covering her mouth. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing. Just…" Blake pointed at Ruby and Weiss. "That's some real gay shit, you know?"

"You wanted to see me, Professor Ozpin?"

"Yes, Pyrrha. Please come in."

Pyrrha entered Ozpin's office with her back straight and her shoulders firm. There were no more wounds on her face; a solid week of intense Aura treatment was enough to heal her of everything but the taste of defeat on her tongue. Her face was devoid of doubt as she seated herself in the chair in front of his desk. Ozpin did his best to hide his smile.

"How are you holding up?" he asked gently.

"Fine, Professor." Pyrrha's words were as short and blunt as her temperament.

"I heard you've been training much harder since your fight. You aren't wearing yourself out, are you?"

"No, Professor."

"Was that your first loss against another Huntsman?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Well, Vivian and her team are quite powerful. They have a few extra years of training on you as well. It's nothing to beat yourself up over."

"I'm not beating myself up over anything, Professor," Pyrrha said with a grimace. "I've just been neglecting my studies for too long. I'm trying to catch up."

"That's very respectable." Ozpin sipped from his coffee. Pyrrha's eye twitched as she tracked the movement of the mug. He was always drinking something…

"Did you just call me in for a check-up, Professor?"

"You know I didn't," Ozpin laughed. "I've been noticing how hard you've worked to get back into condition this past week. Team JJWL obviously left their mark, and I wanted to let you know I've punished them accordingly for their attack on your team and Team CFVY. Even winning a Challenge doesn't erase consequences."

"Really? They've seemed the same as always."

"Don't believe everything you see," Ozpin reminded her. She didn't need it.

"Is that all?"

"How would you like to engage in a field exercise?"

"A… field exercise, Professor?"

"Yes."

"Field exercises begin in sophomore year."

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, this year has been full of surprises. It's nothing too dangerous, nothing that will exacerbate your injuries. But I figured that getting outside of the Academy might do you some good."

Pyrrha looked down at her feet. The last time Ozpin had asked a favor of her, she never followed through. The absurdity of that day hadn't left her. Did she… owe him? That didn't seem right. Nothing seemed right at all.

"What do you need exactly?"

"You see," Ozpin said, leaning back in his chair. "General Ironwood just spoke with me. It seems that Team RWBY has asked to leave Atlas Academy for the weekend."

Pyrrha stiffened up. The twitching in her eye doubled in speed.

"Team… RWBY?"

"Yes. Them," Ozpin said distastefully. "They're going into the city for some social media thing-a-ma-whatsit. At least, that's what their claim is. Frankly, I don't trust those girls' intentions in the slightest. Do you?"

Team RWBY's warning sounded in her mind, just like it had every night since they came to this godforsaken school. Ozpin was evil, they had warned her. Ozpin can't be trusted. For far too long she had let those doubts overtake her, distract her, poison her. Even if Team RWBY was right about some things… what had they ever done for her except make everything more complicated? What would give them a right to just flaunt school rules, disobey their Professors, and treat becoming a Huntress like some kind of joke?

"No," she said sternly. "I don't."

Ozpin's smile came out in full force. "Then you're smart. I have nothing at all against Team RWBY. Far from it. They have done so much for the prestige of Beacon Academy. But you know their disobedience is a serious problem. The truth is, whenever those girls leave these school walls, they always get themselves into some awful trouble. Just like when they left for Vale last month. They said they were going to have a talk, and suddenly they are speeding across the city causing all sorts of mischief."

"I heard of that," Pyrrha admitted. "Do you want me to stop them?"

"No, no. That's not necessary. We already promised them they could go, and General Ironwood would get in some hot water if he went back on his word to them. Trust me on that."

"Then… you want me to go with them?"

"Not exactly. They requested that they go alone, and we're very careful not to disrupt our terms with them."

The idea clicked in her skull, like puzzle pieces snapping together. "You want me to spy on them."

"Spy is such a devious word," Ozpin sighed. "I want you to watch over them. Just… from a distance. Keep an eye on them, and make sure they don't wander into the wrong parts of town. You don't have to get involved physically. If you see any trouble—anything suspicious at all really—you can call me and let me know and I'll send in backup to keep them safe. Really, it's just for their own protection. The City can be a dangerous place."

"I'm not sure I understand, Professor," Pyrrha said sadly. "This hardly seems like a job for me."

"It's an important part of your training," Ozpin explained. "A Huntress as talented as you is going to spend most of her career in a big city. Understanding the layout, the culture, navigating this new terrain—it's highly different than the usual empty spaces of training arenas and the freshly washed walls of school hallways. And being a Huntress isn't entirely about combat either. Yes, there is fighting and danger, the great things that legends and folk songs are born from; but there is a lot of patience needed… observing, studying, gathering what you can from a safe distance, and waiting for the proper time to act. We don't train that enough in these walls, I'm afraid. This will be a perfect training session for you."

"But," Pyrrha protested, "I'm just a student. If this is that important to you, why not get a professor to help?"

"They'll be busy teaching, of course," Ozpin said reasonably. "I can't distract them from their jobs for something so menial. Normally, I would get Professor Goodwitch to assist, but—well, you know why I can't do that anymore."

"And the other students?"

"Pyrrha." Ozpin leaned forward, staring through Pyrrha's Soul. "I trust you to do this. No one else."

Pyrrha hadn't felt like herself in months. Every day had been a struggle, every class a war, every new memory a trauma to endure. She didn't trust Ozpin. She couldn't, no matter how badly she wanted to. Her mind—her stupid, faulty brain—refused to engage rationally. She didn't trust Team RWBY either. She didn't need rationality to explain why. Every new week they seemed to grow further and further from her, ascending not into this team of real people but vague ideas: chaos, rebellion, disloyalty, arrogance. Watching the endless praise heaped upon them day after day, hour after hour, every time she turned on a television, or overheard another student, felt like she was wading through a rising tide. She had been beaten, outclassed, outmatched, had seen her own failures ripped from her chest and pulled in front of her face. And yet, in this moment, that all seemed to fall away. For just once, Ozpin said he trusted her, and it didn't matter if she didn't return the feeling, or she didn't fully understand her mission, or why it had to be her.

She felt validated.

She felt vindicated.

And she looked back into Ozpin's eyes. "Yes, Professor… if that's what you need."

"You're going into the City of Atlas this weekend?" Jaune asked, surprised. "To spy on Team RWBY."

"Not to spy, to watch over them," Pyrrha finished explaining in the privacy of their dorm room. Nora and Ren mostly seemed unenthused. Their injuries were healed as well thanks to Ren's help, though that hadn't stopped Nora from lazily lounging around. Jaune scratched his scalp through his shaggy hair.

"That sounds like spying."

"It isn't. It's for their own good," Pyrrha insisted. "It's so they don't accidentally get attacked again. And not just me. I was hoping to get some company."

"All of us?"

"It's good for the team," Pyrrha said surely. "I asked Ozpin, and he said it would be a good idea. Ren, you have a keen understanding of Atlasian culture. You can help keep us in the right place when we are in the city and make sure we don't stick out. And Jaune, field training would be good for you as well. Being by my side would be helpful. You can… watch us." Pyrrha conveniently left out that having Jaune around always made her feel better, that his presence was the comfort she needed to stay calm in this mission of utmost importance. Regardless, he took the responsibility proudly.

"Well… if Ozpin already said we should do it, I wouldn't mind skipping classes Saturday."

"And I can help us stick to the shadows. You don't have the level of stealth experience I have," Ren added.

"Exactly," Pyrrha said gladly. "I think this is just what Team JNPR needs to recover."

Nora shrugged, jumping up to her feet. "Well, if Team RWBY needs someone to keep an eye out for them, I guess there's no one better than us to do it." Nora stretched her arms over her head. Did this plan sound super suspicious? Yes. Totally. It was shady as hell, especially if Team RWBY didn't know they were there. Would it be an invasion of privacy? Well, kind of—according to Ozpin, they were planning on live-streaming everything anyway, so it's not exactly like they were trying to keep things a secret. But one, she was so eager to get outside of Atlas Academy that she probably would have agreed to murder someone to do it, and two: Team RWBY did often get into trouble. Getting chased around the City of Vale? Fighting Grimm? Fighting their own teachers? Yeah, if Team RWBY was off somewhere, there was a good chance someone was getting punched. It seemed like one of those "ask forgiveness, not permission" sorts of things. She could live with that.

And, of course, if doing this was helping Pyrrha get closer to RWBY, that could lead them closer to mending that bridge that Nora was quite eager to see fixed.

It was a surprise then when Pyrrha frowned and averted her gaze, holding up her hand. "Actually, um, Nora… you shouldn't come."

Nora stood there, arms still over her head, dumbfounded. "What?"

"I told Ozpin that we would have someone stay here for classes… you know, to take notes," Pyrrha explained halfheartedly. "We… we don't want to miss anything important. And besides, stealth isn't something you're good at anyway."

It wasn't meant to come out as an insult. Really. That didn't stop Nora from scowling.

"Oh. Because I'm dumb and loud. Gotcha."

"Nora—"

"No. No, I get it," Nora grunted. "I mean, you already told Ozpin. Nothing I can do."

"I wasn't trying to—"

"I'll just… stay here, I guess. Being loud and dumb."

The room became incredibly quiet. No one dared speak another word. Pyrrha did not tell Nora how much her words rang true. After a few moments of silence, Nora pushed past Pyrrha and exited the dorm to go to the bathroom. Even when she was gone, Pyrrha said nothing.