Note: Worldbuilding and philosophy are fun. And hard. This chapter got a bit away from us in terms of length, so we're going to have to push something we wanted to cover into the next chapter. Hope you don't mind. Enjoy.

Once the words left her mouth, Pyrrha realized her mistake. Her cheeks turned a deep shade of red and puffed out. She drew herself inward, her fingers rising to her lips.

"I'm… I'm sorry…" she stammered. "I didn't mean…"

It was far too late for that. The damage was done. All four members of Team RWBY were staring at her harshly, their condemnation harsher than she could bear. Blake especially seemed ready to pounce over the table. She shirked their gazes, returning her eyes to her plate of food. Why did she even say that? How stupid of her.

General Ironwood, however, didn't seem offended. In fact, he rested his chin upon knuckles and prodded further. "No need to apologize. I had no idea you were that passionate about your career."

"I'm not," Pyrrha said quickly. She shook her head. "I mean—I am. Just not… not like that."

Ironwood wasn't buying. Perhaps worse, Ruby wasn't buying it. For so long, Ruby had known that something was wrong with Pyrrha, but she didn't know what. It always seemed that the polite, earnest student she knew was just a plastic shell and that something more apathetic and vile was bubbling beneath the surface. Right then, when Pyrrha looked her in the eyes, she felt like she had finally seen the real Pyrrha Nikos. It was the same Pyrrha she caught glimpse of back in their dorm when she chewed out Weiss for no reason. It brought even more doubts to mind. She had spent weeks worrying about Ozpin and Ironwood, and several more since worrying about Penny. She never considered that one of her greatest threats could be someone so close to them. It was another one of her mistakes: being too trusting. She thought she would have learned better by now.

Ozpin smiled, satisfied with Pyrrha's fury. "It's quite good to be motivated, Miss Nikos. But if you are going to take a life, I recommend doing so after you've obtained a Huntress license."

Goodwitch snickered. "At least then it'd be legal."

A dull grimace crossed Pyrrha's face. She tucked her hands into her lap, trying to resist the urge to throw up. "Can we… can we please not…"

Ruby briefly checked her teammates' reactions. Weiss seemed equally stunned by Pyrrha's statements. Blake looked like she wanted to punch her out. Yang was mostly baffled. Ruby knew she could have pressed further, but she had to stop and remind herself of her mission. Avoid drama. Avoid controversy. Just survive.

Notably, while Team RWBY said nothing and the Professors seemed amused by the tension, Penny calmly leaned over and whispered something in Pyrrha's ear. "Personally, Pyrrha Nikos, I think you sounded very scary."

Pyrrha closed her eyes, wishing to be anywhere else.

General Ironwood relaxed his posture, taking a sip from his wine. Her discomfort was plain enough even for him, and it may have been out of sympathy that he turned his attention elsewhere. However, a strong, lingering interest remained present in his tone, even as his words became detached.

"The truth is, Miss Nikos… it's rare to find students being so passionate about Huntsmen work these days. I've found that your generation doesn't care as much for Huntsmen work as mine did. I was reading up on Mistrian Huntsmen rates recently. The amount of young people who have stated an interest in joining a Huntsmen academy has fallen by twenty-five percent in the past ten years. Huntsmen approval ratings are at a fifty-year-low. Does anyone here have an explanation as to why they think that is?"

The question wasn't rhetorical, though no one dared to answer it; either out of shame or fear. Ciel calmly raised her hand, but a sideways glance from the General shut her down. The question was for Beacon students alone.

"I don't know," Ruby eventually admitted. Ironwood nodded, eager to illuminate.

"There have been a few theories I've seen," Ironwood stated. "The most compelling I've found is what the philosopher Edward Stance calls broad cultural degeneration. I'm sure you all study your history well, or at least as well as Beacon allows you. The First Huntsmen were literal. In the earliest age of civilization, it would be the Huntsmen who led society. When this world was still inhabited by beasts and monsters, they would be the ones who would venture out into the wilderness and cut swaths of free land into the unknown. Using nothing but their own Souls, they created havens for Humanity to flourish. They successfully inverted the food chain. There were no Kingdoms back then—just people. Good, honest people, motivated by nothing but simpler means and a will to survive. When Dust was discovered and the monsters started going extinct, the Huntsmen took on a new role: shepherds. They would guard the land that their forefathers took, establishing law and order in a world without any. They were judges and caretakers. And, when the Age of Dust passed and the Age of Kingdoms rose, they became something else: servants. They would honor their Kingdom and retain the power of those who rightfully ruled above. It remains the basic model for what the Huntsmen are now: no longer monster hunters or rulers, but keepers of a peace more important than ourselves. Do you see the throughline, Miss Rose?"

Ruby sighed. "I can't say I do."

Ironwood grumbled. "Huntsmen are malleable, but they have always served a similar tradition. They protect their kind—whether tribes, villages or Kingdoms—and they establish order. The values that every child in this Kingdom is born knowing were created from the struggle to create that order. Those values have formed our traditions, and that tradition is built upon sacrifice. It requires an understanding that there is something more important than yourself and that you must be willing to fight to protect that. Only the bravest among us can be Huntsmen. Most civilians will never understand the discipline or the struggle of those who keep them safe, and in my opinion, that nonunderstanding has been the source of so many of our Kingdom's problems. Ever since the Great War ended and the Age of Color began, that nonunderstanding has festered like a tumor across all of Remnant. People don't trust Huntsmen anymore. They don't have faith in us to perform our responsibilities. They blame Huntsmen and the greed of Kings for the Great War, and the Great War was an awful mistake, but in placing blame, most people disregard everything that made Huntsmen important in the first place. It is a convenient excuse for civilians to disregard the traditions that built the very Kingdoms they live in, and as we've seen over the years, that can only lead to catastrophe. Your generation hates Huntsmen… that's why it's so rare to see bright young women like you who hold the role of a Huntress in high regard. You understand why it matters."

Blake scoffed, entirely unimpressed. "I mean, maybe the reason people hate Huntsmen these days is that they've finally learned that Huntsmen are… I don't know, kind of bad sometimes."

"The Huntsmen are only as bad as some in the media want them to be," Ironwood said. Blake smirked knowingly, but he continued without hesitation. "It isn't conspiratorial to state the obvious. There are people who want to tear these Kingdoms apart. You have bad-faith actors Sienna Khan who have whipped Faunus into a frenzy all in the name of a so-called civil rights campaign. She calls the Huntsmen devils and wants us eliminated. She's said herself that the world no longer needs us. I was always sympathetic to the Faunus cause, but the good Faunus who just want to be treated fairly aren't the popular voices in their movement. They've been overtaken by people who just want to watch Atlas burn."

Blake held back a laugh.

"That's just one example, though," Ironwood sighed. "It's part of a larger cultural problem. Ever since the Great War ended, we've been in an era of peace… but that peace has bred complacency. Without monsters or Kingdoms to fight, peace is all these generations expect. And, because all they expect is peace, they interpret any struggle at all to be evil. Whether that's the personal struggle or working, the struggle of politics, or the struggle of Huntsmen, they paint it all with the same, broad brush. It's an entitlement that has never existed before in previous generations. They don't understand that struggle is what keeps these Kingdoms alive. It is the constant, vigilant work of people like us to prevent chaos from overtaking Remnant. It's an unfortunate, paradoxical cycle. Struggle creates Huntsmen. Huntsmen work to bring peace and structure. Peace breeds weakness. That weakness perverts itself into destruction, and without a natural struggle, that destruction targets the very structures that keep the peace. Without respect for tradition, society, government, and family collapse. Order collapses. Atlas collapses. Remnant collapses. And eventually, Humanity collapses."

Weiss felt her stomach twist in knots. She didn't find it funny at all. She had heard those same words thousands of times, repeated on loops on the news, on her shows, by her father. She remembered repeating those words herself. It all seemed to make so much sense back then. She slowly raised her fingers to her eye and brushed them over her scar. The metal running along her joints felt heavier, weighed down by the frightening sincerity of Ironwood's words.

Once General Ironwood finished, he took another sip of his wine, and then he gave Team RWBY a small smile. "But that's why it was so fortunate that you appeared when you did. You girls don't buy into that. You understood that keeping our society functioning requires sacrifice. You were willing to risk your lives to protect Vale. That's deeply admirable for young women, but more importantly, you have sparked admirability in other young people. For the first time in years, the media is forced to recognize the necessity of Huntsmen. All of those destructive voices calling for our removal are nowhere to be heard. In the weeks since you stopped the Grimm, public support for Huntsmen has spiked dramatically. And, if you are willing to hear me out, I think we can work together to build that even further."

Ruby hated the sound of that, but she had no choice except to hear him out. "What do you mean?"

Ironwood spoke calmly. "As I'm sure you're aware, the Vytal Festival is being held this year."

A strange wave of dread and nostalgia washed over her. The Vytal Festival… there was a time in her life when hearing those words would make her scream for joy. It was the ultimate display of Huntsmen prowess: a massive, jaw-dropping, sixty-four-person tournament of Huntsmen and Huntresses from the top academies in Remnant known for its drama and brutality. Many Huntsmen tournaments were held in every Kingdom each year, some for students, others for professionals, but the Vytal Festival was special. No other competition had the scale or the prestige—or the danger. The tournament was held over the span of a week, environments were hazardous, and weapon restrictions were minimized. Many promising students had been injured in the Vytal Festival, but that risk only made the triumph sweeter. Ruby used to dream of standing atop a podium, a stadium full of people cheering her on as she was bequeathed a golden trophy. Those were dreams from a simpler time, however. Now, the Vytal Festival just reminded her of the harm the Headmaster was willing to put his students through for his amusement.

Ruby shook her head. "I thought you would cancel it."

"Why would we do that?"

"Um, because Beacon is destroyed?" Yang noted. "It's kind of hard to have a tournament when the venue doesn't exist."

"The Amity Colosseum wasn't damaged at all, and repairs to Beacon will be done before April's end," Professor Ozpin explained. "The other Headmasters and I talked it over, and we decided that in times of crisis, people rely on stability. The Vytal Festival only comes around every four years, and it's always the most anticipated global event whenever it's held. For the good of the public health, hosting it at a rejuvenated Beacon Academy is a necessary act."

"Okay, but what does that have to do with us?" Yang asked. "We're not even eligible for the Vytal Festival."

"We haven't decided on our entry criteria yet," Ozpin claimed. "Typically, we select the top team from each grade to represent Beacon, but that's not a hard and fast rule. Given your special circumstances…"

Ironwood cut off his ally. "That's not important now. What is important is that we are entering Vytal season now. The press is getting hungry for news, and Atlas has decided to feed their appetites. That's where you come in." Ironwood placed his hands on the table, his body becoming rigid as he walked through his plan with perfect, military precision. "In one week, we will be inviting the state media to Atlas Academy. They are going to conduct a series of interviews with our staff and our top students, and then to create excitement for the Vytal Festival, we are going to allow those students to perform some combat demonstrations. We've commissioned some Version One TITAN mechs and inFantry A.I.s to serve as fodder."

"You are going to participate," Ozpin said calculatingly. "The four of you will be the prime subject of the media's news story. Team RWBY Integrates into Atlas. You will show up—in uniform—and you will let all of Remnant know how favorable you find the conditions at Atlas. You will be thankful to General Ironwood for granting you this opportunity to improve yourselves, and over the course of the day, you will highlight all of the wonderful facilities that Atlas Academy has provided to you."

"Goodwitch has helped prepare some additional talking points," Ironwood said calmly, even as Team RWBY's concerns became more palpable. "She will go over them with you in detail before the press arrive."

"You girls need the help," Goodwitch nodded. "Your media training is atrocious."

"Wait, please, slow down," Ruby said, trying to process Ironwood's sudden demands. "So, the media—the state media—is going to show up, and we're supposed to not just fight for them, but give them a… guided tour?"

"You are to serve as representatives for our Kingdoms," Ironwood said proudly. "You need to show the world how Atlas and Vale are working side-by-side through these difficult times. There have been dozens of slanderous stories about Atlas Academies thrown around by bad-faith actors. If everyone sees the Heroes of Vale vouch for Atlas, it will significantly quell those rumors."

Weiss gasped. "You want us to downplay abuses in Atlas for the press?"

"We want you to show why being a Huntress matters," Ironwood said more bluntly, his gaze narrowing. "You girls are role models, and role models should teach people to have faith in their institutions. A Huntress that cannot stand up for Huntresses everywhere is a failure."

"That doesn't sound like an advertisement for the Vytal Festival, though," Weiss said nervously. "That sounds like you want us to make—"

"A propaganda film," Blake said harshly, slamming her fist on the table. Her silverware rattled, yet her sneer stayed firm. "No fucking way."

Ozpin grinned darkly. "Watch your language, Miss Belladonna."

"No, fuck that," Blake spat. "You want us to make propaganda for the Atlasian military. That's what's going on here. You want us in our Atlas uniforms, singing praises for the military-industrial complex, and then you want to record us fighting on camera so you can slice together cool action scenes that you can shop around to every kid in the Kingdom and make them go, 'Wow, cool, the Atlas military looks awesome. I want to join that.' You want clips of us talking about how great Atlas Academy is so you can broadcast it on every news network in a twenty-four-hour loop. I don't want any part of that shit."

"No?" Ozpin asked crudely. "But praising Huntsmen is what you do every single time you send out a post on KnightsPage."

"I have never asked people to sign up for the military," Blake said defensively. "Me being a Huntress and being famous is not the same as me actively encouraging people to get combat training. Don't try to turn this around on me."

Ozpin smiled, so smug and proud of himself. Ironwood frowned, and Ruby hurriedly intervened before Blake's anger got them in deeper trouble.

"Look, General," Ruby cleared her throat, "what I think Blake is trying to say is that we… we have a very carefully cultivated media image. People like us because they think we are sincere. Having us blatantly talk up the school would come across as very… inauthentic."

"Yeah, people know if we're lying," Yang added. "I'm on KnightsPage all the time. People know how I sound and what I like. If you try to make me read from a script, people will see right through that."

"Then you have to make it look convincing," Ironwood said flippantly. "If you cannot do that, then that failure would be entirely on your shoulders."

"But you're making us do it," Yang countered. "It's not going to work. If you want people to believe that we are on your side, you should let us convince them on our own terms. And besides, I'm not even allowed to fight yet, so… so I can't participate in any combat training. And, uh, it would look really bad if you couldn't have all of Team RWBY fight at the same time, wouldn't it? People would suspect something is wrong, a-and you don't want that."

Yang doubted her arguments were getting through, though not for a lack of effort. She would throw a hundred more ideas at the wall to see what finally made Ironwood see reason. Yet, she, Weiss, and Blake, and Ruby all knew that was an impossible task. Ironwood wasn't motivated by reason, and honestly, neither were they. Blake had already let that spill out, though the Headmasters already knew the truth. Their objections to being used by Atlas were strictly moral. After everything that Kingdom had done to them, the idea of getting on camera in their uniforms and advertising their school was a slap in the face. Ruby wouldn't stand for it. After everything she had done to redeem her mother's legacy, displaying the colors of the flag that killed her would be one step too far.

She had to put her foot down. Fortunately, there was still a way to do that. While Ironwood was intimidating and Ozpin was conniving, she had to remember who really had the power in their relationship. It was like she always said: as long as Weiss was by their side, they held all the cards.

Ruby took a deep breath and tried to speak as authoritatively as she could manage. "With all due respect, General… we cannot actively participate in something if we feel like our images will be misused. The public's perception of us is very important, and we don't want people to think we stand for something we don't believe in."

Ironwood sighed, disappointed. "This is an act of inter-Kingdom unity, Miss Rose. Are you really willing to sacrifice that for something so trivial as popularity?"

"This is not about unity," Ruby argued sternly. "We agreed to come to Atlas. We agreed to not speak badly of our time here. There are plenty of other ways that we can show peace between Vale and Atlas. If you want us to speak kindly of our time here, we are willing to do that. But all of this? The uniforms, the state media, scripting our words… we are Huntresses, not your tools."

"Please, Ruby, you are being uncooperative," Ozpin claimed. "Aren't you kids constantly prattling on about the importance of tolerance and compromise?"

"Compromise means agreeing to a mutually beneficial middle ground," Ruby countered. "We do not want to be turned into recruitment tools, and we don't want ourselves filmed in Atlas uniforms, and we do not want you to publicly disparage us for refusing to do so. If it's really that important that we spar with your mechs, that's fine, but we want control over what we say and how we're framed. And if we don't get it… we walk. That was the arrangement you and I made in Vale, Professor Ozpin. All we want is for you to honor it."

Ruby thought she came across well, and the lack of rebellion from her teammates further encouraged her. Her professors exchanged some silent looks, no doubt surprised to receive such pushback. Ozpin leaned over and whispered something in Ironwood's ear. The other students at the table were lost; Ciel and Penny just stared at her with a scowl and a smile, and Pyrrha smartly kept her head down before she said anything else she regretted. Ruby sat as straight as she could, and despite her lackluster figure, she hoped she came across as an intimidating presence. She had spent weeks being bullied by grown-ups who thought she was a pushover. The new Ruby would have none of it. She reached her hand underneath the table and gently squeezed Weiss's, and her girlfriend gave her a nod of encouragement. If needed, Weiss was ready to launch into a tirade to defend their honor. Together, they were in control… and damn if it didn't feel good.

Ironwood's lips curled back into a thin sneer, and he rolled his shoulders before twisting his head to the side and cracking his neck. He seemed almost remorseful, though Ruby doubted he felt any sympathy toward their plight at all. She readied herself for his counteroffer.

"You know, Ruby," Ironwood said plainly, "I was the one who recommended we broadcast your mother's execution."

And all at once, Ruby's confidence melted away. Her eyes widened, and her lips quivered, and her voice, already shaky, seemed to break instantly.

"Wha… what did you say?"

Ironwood remained calm. "The death penalty is common in Atlas. Public executions aren't. We only bring those out when we want to make examples of people. Your mother was one of those examples."

Ruby's thoughts vanished from her mind. What the hell was he saying right now?

"When people misbehave, they have to understand the consequences of their actions. You surely understand that? Being that you slipped those consequences for so long."

He wasn't… this didn't make any sense.

"And unfortunately, people don't understand those consequences until they start hurting. And there are two easy ways to make someone hurt. The first is physical. It's messy. Uncivilized. The second, though, is emotional. And that's very easy to accomplish."

Tears welled in Ruby's eyes. She didn't even realize that she crying. Weiss whispered something to her, but she didn't hear it.

Ironwood casually beckoned toward Goodwitch, who wore the cruelest smile on her face. "Professor… you've been to Taiyang Xiao Long's house before, correct?"

And at once, someone snapped—not Ruby, who was so lost in her horror that she couldn't bear thinking about what the General was saying, but Yang, who on hearing her father's name stood up from the table, her eyes and hair glowing.

"You bastard!" she screamed, shouting across the table. "Keep my dad's name out of your mouth!"

"Your father was the husband of a terrorist," Ozpin said succinctly. "We never investigated him out of kindness. However, it stands to reason that he was aware of his wife's actions."

If I wasn't obvious before, it was crystal clear now. Blake and Weiss had joined in Yang's fury, and their minds were racing at the audacity of the Headmaster's statements.

"Are you threatening my dad?" Yang said accusingly, already knowing the answer.

"I have said no such thing," Ironwood said. Ozpin briefly side-eyed Pyrrha, maintaining his innocence to the one student he'd have on his side.

"Bullshit!" Blake stated. "You can't get what you want, so you threaten our families? That's fucking low."

"Language, Miss Belladonna."

"Oh, fuck off with the language, you fucking fuck," Blake snapped. "You are not pulling this shit on us. You can't get everything you want, so you try to fucking blackmail us. You sick assholes!"

"We… we don't have to stand for this," Yang stated, arguing to her teammates. "If he's going to threaten us, why should we be playing nice with him? Do you have any idea who we are? It would take me two minutes to expose all of the fucked-up things you've been doing to us."

"And so you'll burn everything we have over something so petty?" Goodwitch laughed. "I can see why Carlana hasn't cleared you for combat. You have such an awful temper."

Yang growled, her hands balled into fists. She wanted to smash the fucking table in pieces and lunge for Goodwitch's throat, even if it would prove everything they had been saying about her. That bitch had done nothing but torment her friend, and now she dared to extend that shit to her family. Ruby could barely process her trauma, but Yang had long since channeled her loss into anger. Half of her wanted to storm out of Atlas forever. Half of her wanted to treat her professors the same way she would treat a Grimm.

For the first time in a month, those two thoughts came from two voices.

Weiss was equally as distraught, torn between comforting Ruby and condemning her teachers. She pulled Ruby in close for a hug, and Ruby cried silently against her shoulder, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. Weiss tried to maintain her composure, a difficult task even in the best of circumstances.

"Then we'll leave," she declared. "You need us. If you are going to treat us like objects, then we won't bother helping you. Good luck defeating the Grimm without me."

Maybe they knew it was an empty threat. Could Weiss really just leave her training behind and abandon Humanity out of a grudge? Would she risk her family's safety—Ruby's family's safety—just to stand her ground? At the moment, the answer was a disturbing yes. She had spent weeks considering what would happen if Ozpin dared to push her too far, if they were willing to hurt her just to maintain their grip. It was a horrifying thing to wonder, but she knew that she had to be willing to make sacrifices. If she had to, she would throw herself from the highest spires of the Hydra of Atlas just to stop Ozpin from using her. She had to convince herself of that, because that conviction would be the only thing stopping Ozpin from doing whatever he wanted with her gifts. In warfare, it was called mutually assured destruction. If Ozpin was willing to push her to the brink, she had to be willing to leap over it. The idea was that neither side would be willing to risk their collective doom. Unfortunately, she feared Ozpin was risking too much.

However, Ozpin didn't seem bothered by Weiss's threat at all. Instead, he smiled confidently and said something Weiss wasn't prepared for. "Miss Schnee… what makes you think we need you to fight the Grimm?"

Rather than anger, Ozpin's comments only drew confusion from Team RWBY. Weiss stammered, trying to follow.

"What do you mean? Of course, you need me. I'm the one with—"

"That's no longer relevant, I'm afraid," Ozpin said with a sigh. "A lot has changed in the past few weeks, girls. You're certainly talented, Miss Schnee, but necessary? No… you've been replaced, I'm afraid. In fact, it's only a matter of time before your services aren't required at all."

Weiss couldn't understand. None of them did. That didn't make any sense. Ozpin spent months trying to draw out her Fable power. He had nearly sacrificed her to the Reveler's whims just to get a fraction of the power he would need to fight the Grimm. He abandoned his threats against them, allowed Yang to walk free, and Blake to escape her punishment just so he wouldn't lose out on Weiss's abilities. She was key to all of his desires—a key locked firmly behind her DNA. She knew that her father hadn't decided to help him. Gods forbid he risk his own life for something greater. Winter was under his thumb and thus too far out from Ozpin's control. She didn't have any other family members who could summon so that only made her wonder: Who the fuck did Ozpin think he could replace her with.

"The reason we keep you around is because you are useful," General Ironwood explained. "You have immense popularity in both Vale and Atlas. You help draw resources to Huntsmen initiatives. You have direct experience battling Grimm. We would get much more out of you if you decided to work with us rather than against us. We want to be your allies. But if we have to become your enemies… that option is now available to us. Hopefully, it won't come to that, as long as you play your roles. But, if we have to…"

Yang slammed her fists down on the table, threatening to crack the furniture in half. "I swear to God, if you fucking touch my dad, I'll—"

"No one is going to harm anyone, Miss Xiao Long," General Ironwood claimed. "All we are saying is that the consequences of your actions reach far beyond yourselves. You are not the only one with a family. Miss Schnee's family is right here in Atlas, and they have already been disappointed enough in their daughter's actions from last semester. We don't need to disappoint them further. And… Glynda, who was that other woman you mentioned? What was her name again?"

Glynda pretended to think deeply, placing a finger to her chin, and then with a satisfied grin, she looked directly across the table toward the woman in a black blouse. "I think it was Kali… Kali Kataliana."

All eyes fell onto Blake, and all at once, the air rushed out of her lungs.

No.

No, she couldn't have.

That was impossible.

How did she know?

She shouldn't have known.

No one knew.

She never told them.

No one knew.

No one except…

It clicked. It clicked directly into place. He wouldn't. He wouldn't fucking dare. Not to her. Not to them. What did they promise him? Freedom? Resources? Just to spite her? That monster. After everything they had been through together. It couldn't be, but it had to. There was no one else.

Adam…

Blake said nothing—and then without warning, she lunged across the table and swung at Goodwitch's head.

Chaos broke out. Goodwitch did not move as Blake approached her, but before the punch landed, her fist was intercepted. Penny sprung to action, her smiling face hiding her incredible intuition. The cybernetic student threw her self over the table and tackled Blake out of midair, acting purely out of defense of her superiors. The pair rolled along the floor, and Penny picked Blake up and slammed her up against the wall. She pressed her palm against Blake's throat, and her hand separated into two halves; a thin blade extended from her limb and hovered centimeters away from Blake's skin. Yang cried out and reached for her, but Ciel suddenly reached beneath the table and flipped it onto the enemy team, knocking them back. Plates, glasses, and foie gras piled onto the floor. Weiss pulled Ruby away to safety. Pyrrha jumped back and screamed in surprise, lost and horrified as to what had happened. She stumbled and fell on her backside, not sure what to do. Ironwood, Ozpin, and Goodwitch remained seated, the latter squealing in delight at the spontaneous display of violence. Yang grabbed the remains of the table and tossed it to the corner of the room; it collided with Ironwood's pristine bookshelves, knocking dozens of novels to the ground. Yang pulled back her fists and prepared to fight, and Ciel did the same. None of them had any weapons, but they acted out of instinct, ready to defend those close to them. Blake kicked against Penny's torso, but the Atlasian prodigy did not budge. She still wore that goddamn smile.

Weiss pulled Ruby in close for safety, contemplating whether to summon her Melodies and tear Ironwood's office apart. Yang stepped forward, ready to lunge. Her multicolored eyes glowed like fire. Ciel, noticeably nervous, stood her ground. A small pool of black started to swell within her pupils. And Pyrrha—poor, terribly confused Pyrrha—just sat there, wondering how the evening had descended so quickly.

Little did she know, it was about to get worse. Before Yang or Ciel could throw a punch and escalate things further, the elevator ping.

The sharp sound from the entrance to Ironwood's office cut through the tension and drew all combatants to a standstill. An interruption? Now? Had Ironwood's security forces somehow discovered the chaos happening above? Was it the waiters bringing their next course in a dinner gone south? Neither could be the case; a quick check of Ironwood's expression revealed he was just as shocked as everyone else. No one was supposed to be bothering them this night, and no one was supposed to have access to the elevator except for him. He waited for the doors to open, facing straight ahead to greet his unwanted guests.

Only the doors did not open. Instead, there was a slight rap on the metal from within, a rhythmic knock like a childhood tune. And then, without warning, the doors were dented inward, the big chunks of metal caving in like they had been blasted apart. There was a horrible bang, and then another, and sparks and metal chunks flew into the office as the elevator doors were nearly smashed off their hinges. A gap emerged in the entrance, smoke billowing out of the elevator, and when the gap was big enough, something was tossed through. Ironwood remained seated as a large, round, metal object was thrown in his direction, and the sizzling, smoking thing rolled up to his feet before stopping in a similar place to where his glass of wine once rested. He scowled as he examined the charred, sputtering thing, and quickly came to recognize it as the head of one of his security drones, smoke spilling from its neck and broken lights dancing on its shielded face.

"I think you might need to get better security, General."

A voice creeped out of the elevator; confident and condescending, feminine yet cracked in an unpleasant manner akin to an out-of-tune instrumen, a Southern Valian skip beaten into every syllable. The elevator door was slammed open further, creating enough space for a figure to slip into the office. Her lanky figure engulfed in smoke, she was followed by three more, each stepping out from their metal hell and into the firelit office. The leader of the group stepped forward out of the debris, and the other students were finally able to recognize her in her brilliant, electric beauty. Her appearance was familiar to anyone that had ever walked the halls of Beacon Academy. A face that was as sharp as it was commanding. Hair that was flayed and pink and ran shoulder length past a cracked, scarred cheek. A flowing jacket of white fur that was more a cloak or cape than a shield from the cold. The sparks of power that crackled off her fingertips at all times. And those eyes—the eyes that silently told you how better she was than you.

Damn well everyone knew her face and everyone knew her voice, for she would stand at the front of the room and scream for your attention. They knew her and her three followers, who always lurked behind and championed her every move. She would demand their respect and their fear, and they would give it willingly or it would be stolen. Their power was reinforced into their dress, their demeanors, and even etched into their motto, simplified into a single, easily-understood command: Kneel.

Weiss held Ruby close and shuddered. What the hell were they doing here?

The leader looked around the room once and laughed. She leaned over, placing her hands on her hips. Her words dripped with mockery.

"Well, look at this. Someone's been having fun without us."