The hum of the flagship's engines filled the chamber where General James Ironwood and Jacques Schnee engaged in their private discussion through the use of his ship interconnecting with the CCT. The vessel floated just beyond the reach of the bustling city of Vale.

Jacques Schnee, clad in his impeccably tailored suit, sat in his own office, his demeanor composed yet tinged with a hint of apprehension. Ironwood, in his military uniform, exuded an aura of authority and restraint as he regarded the businessman before him through the display..

"General Ironwood, I must express my deepest gratitude for your understanding in the recent... incident involving my daughter," Jacques began, his voice smooth yet tinged with tension.

Ironwood nodded, his steely gaze fixed upon Jacques. "Your daughter's actions on Mount Glenn were indeed noteworthy. While the circumstances were regrettable, it's clear she possesses a commendable sense of initiative."

Jacques inclined his head in acknowledgment, though a flicker of discomfort crossed his features. "Yes, well, it's reassuring to know that her... indiscretions have not gone unnoticed by those in positions of authority."

Ironwood's expression remained neutral, though inwardly he felt a pang of unease at Jacques' detached demeanor towards his own flesh and blood. "Indeed, the public response has been favorable. Many view her involvement as a courageous act in the face of danger. Despite the breach of protocol."

A brief silence settled between them, punctuated only by the faint hum of the ship's engines. Ironwood studied Jacques carefully, sensing a depth of calculation behind the businessman's polished façade.

"It's imperative that we maintain a united front in these uncertain times," Ironwood continued, his tone measured. "Collaboration between Atlas and the Schnee Dust Company will be crucial in ensuring the safety and prosperity of Atlas and its interests."

Jacques nodded, though his eyes betrayed a glimmer of reservation. "Of course, General. Rest assured, the Schnee Dust Company remains committed to upholding its obligations to the kingdom and beyond its borders."

Ironwood regarded Jacques for a moment longer, a sense of disquiet lingering beneath his stoic exterior. Despite the façade of professionalism, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease at Jacques' apparent indifference towards his daughter's well-being.

"Very well," Ironwood said finally, rising from his seat. "I trust we understand each other, Mr. Schnee. "

As they exchanged parting pleasantries, Ironwood couldn't shake the unsettling realization that, in the game of power and politics, even familial bonds were often sacrificed in pursuit of greater ambitions.

Why am I friends with this man again?"

With a last nod, General Ironwood let out a weary sigh, his temples throbbing with the onset of a headache. Sinking into the chair with a heavy sense of fatigue weighing upon him.

With a flick of his wrist, Ironwood activated the holographic display embedded within his desk, the translucent screen shimmering to life before him. He navigated through the surveillance footage from the CCT, his brow furrowing in consternation as he reviewed the events of that fateful night at Beacon.

His gaze narrowed as he focused on the figure of the unknown infiltrator, their movements swift and deliberate as they manipulated the controls of the CCT with unsettling ease. Ironwood's jaw clenched as he watched the perpetrator's actions unfold, a sense of foreboding tightening in his chest.

But it was the subtle detail caught by the hidden camera that sent a chill down Ironwood's spine. The black queen chess piece, left behind by the infiltrator as a sinister marker of their presence, suddenly vanished from the screen, consumed by the image of a white knight.

Ironwood's mind raced with possibilities, his thoughts swirling in a maelstrom of suspicion and intrigue. He knew that the perpetrator who left the black queen was one of Salem's agents, but the appearance of the white knight, a symbol of protection and valor, left Ironwood grappling with uncertainty. Who was the mysterious figure who had intervened, replacing the darkness of Salem's influence with a glimmer of hope?

As he pondered the puzzle before him, Ironwood felt the weight of responsibility settle upon his shoulders once more. The chessboard of power and influence had grown ever more complex, its pieces shifting in a deadly game of strategy and deception.

With a heavy heart and his Semblance, mettle, activating, Ironwood thoughts churned with a mix of frustration and concern as he contemplated the implications of the mysterious figure's intervention. The appearance of the white knight, wielding technology two or three years ahead to anything currently in Atlas' arsenal, raised troubling questions about the this another figure's capabilities.

He tapped a few commands into his desk's interface, pulling up detailed analyses from his team of experts. Their findings confirmed his suspicions — the hardware utilized by the unknown operative was indeed two or four years ahead of Atlas' current technology.

"How is this possible?" Ironwood muttered to himself, his gaze fixed intently on the holographic displays before him. The discrepancy in equipment suggested a level of sophistication and access to resources far beyond anything he had anticipated.

His mind raced as he considered the implications. If someone had managed to acquire and deploy such advanced technology without detection, it posed a significant threat not only to Atlas but to all of Remnant.

The infiltrator who had tampered with the CCT, leaving behind the black queen chess piece, and the mysterious figure who intervened with the white knight were at clearly working against each other.

"They're enemies at least," Ironwood concluded grimly.

As he delved deeper into the data before him, Ironwood's resolve hardened. He knew he could not afford to underestimate their adversary, nor could he allow the forces lurking in the shadows to sow chaos and discord unchecked.

Where are they hiding? Who's helping us without a word?

The chirping of his desk's communication system interrupted Ironwood's train of thought. With a sigh, he reached out and activated the call, the holographic display flickering to life to reveal Glynda Goodwitch's bespectacled portrait.

"General Ironwood," Glynda's voice carried a note of urgency as she addressed him. "I have the updated requisition list from Vale. They're in dire need of supplies and reinforcements, especially after the recent incident."

Ironwood nodded, his expression grave. "Understood, Glynda. We'll prioritize their requests and expedite the delivery as soon as possible. Vale needs our support now more than ever."

There was a brief pause as Glynda regarded him with a mixture of gratitude and concern. "Thank you, James. Your assistance is greatly appreciated, especially in these troubled times."

Ironwood's expression softened slightly as he met Glynda's gaze. "I'm sorry for what happened to your students, Glynda. We'll do everything in our power to ensure that justice is served and that those responsible are held accountable. And one more thing, Glynda. Tell Taiyang Xiao Long that we'll have Penny carry the replacement arm for his daughter. She deserves to have the best care possible. Despite what they had done, self-righteousness surely fueled it."

A flicker of surprise crossed Glynda's features before she nodded in agreement. "I'll relay the message, James. Thank you. Hmm, you seem to have something in your mind?"

Ironwood's gaze then hardened as he fixed Glynda with a penetrating stare. "Glynda, let's not dance around the issue. We both know that Ozpin has his reasons for protecting certain individuals. I understand why he'd be willing to shield Weiss Schnee, given her family's influence and resources. But what I can't comprehend is his decision to extend that protection to Blake Belladonna as well."

Glynda's expression remained composed, though a flicker of apprehension crossed her features. "I'm not sure I follow, James. Ozpin's decisions are based on what he believes is best for the students and the world at large."

Ironwood leaned forward, his voice low and intense. "Don't play coy, Glynda. I've reviewed the reports from my men. I know about Blake Belladonna's true identity and her connections to the White Fang. Ozpin's choice to shelter her raises questions that demand answers."

Glynda's gaze faltered for a moment before she regained her composure, her tone measured. "James, you're treading on dangerous ground. Ozpin's decisions are not to be questioned lightly."

Ironwood held her gaze, unflinching. "I understand the importance of trust and loyalty, Glynda. But blind allegiance is a luxury we can ill afford in these uncertain times. If there's a threat within our midst, we need to confront it head-on, no matter the cost. I thought Ozpin had moved on from the passivity he showed."

Glynda's expression softened, a hint of concern in her eyes. "I understand your concerns, James. But please, trust in Ozpin's judgment. He has his reasons, even if they're not immediately apparent."

Ironwood's jaw clenched with frustration, but he nodded curtly in acknowledgment. "Does Ozpin know who she is? Does he know about her past with the White Fang?"

Glynda met his gaze with a steady resolve, her voice firm. "Ozpin is not a fool, James. He's well aware of Blake's background and her involvement with the White Fang. He's made his decision to extend his protection to her despite that knowledge."

Ironwood leaned back in his chair, his thoughts racing as he processed Glynda's words. "But why, Glynda? What could possibly justify his decision to shelter someone with such a dangerous past?"

Glynda sighed, her expression troubled. "I wish I had all the answers, James. But Ozpin's motives are his own. He sees potential where others see only risk. He believes in giving people second chances, even those who may have made mistakes in the past."

Ironwood's jaw tightened with frustration, but he nodded in reluctant acknowledgment. "I understand the importance of redemption, Glynda. But in times like these, we can't afford to take unnecessary risks. If Blake Belladonna's presence poses a threat to the safety of Beacon and its students, then we must act accordingly."

Glynda regarded him with a solemn nod. "I'll relay your concerns to Ozpin, James. But I can't promise that he'll see things the same way."

Ironwood clenched his fists, his resolve hardening with each passing moment. "Then I'll have to find a way to make him understand my reasoning. We could have lost the silver eyes. It's clear the reason they were chasing after the White Fang because of Belladonna's insistence."

"They are a team, James. She is… repentant."

Ironwood's gaze hardened as he absorbed Glynda's explanation. "Repentant or not, Glynda, that doesn't absolve her of the crimes she may have committed. If the White Fang members captured on Mount Glenn are telling the truth, then Blake's association with Adam Taurus raises serious concerns. She might be a spy for all we know."

Glynda nodded, her expression somber. "I understand your concerns, James. But it's important to consider that Blake is a former member of the White Fang. She's made it clear that she does not share their extremist views and is committed to fighting against them. Hence why she acted on Mt. Glenn."

Ironwood's skepticism lingered, though he begrudgingly acknowledged Glynda's point. "Former partner or not, Blake's past actions cannot be ignored. We need to tread carefully and ensure that she poses no threat to the safety of Beacon and its students. Vale docks, the motorway. It's clear that it all started because of her inherent need to chase after the white fang. I take note of her proactive choice to against the white fang, but she needs to be watched. That's three strikes, Glynda. Beyond this, I cannot support Ozpin any further."

Glynda nodded in agreement. "Of course, James. We'll keep a close eye on Blake and monitor her activities closely. But let's not forget that she's also a student of Beacon, and she deserves the chance to prove herself and redeem her past mistakes."

"We know that isn't redemption that Ozpin is after, Glynda. It's leverage," Ironwood's expression remained resolute as he addressed Glynda's assessment. "If Ozpin intends to leverage Belladonna's connections to Menagerie for support, then sheltering her may indeed earn their gratitude. But we mustn't overestimate the potential repercussions of such a decision. Menagerie does not wield as much political influence as the kingdoms and some may take Ozpin's protection as a statement to make a fifth kingdom."

Glynda nodded in understanding, her brow furrowed with concern. "I understand that the situation with Menagerie is delicate, and we must tread carefully considering that Ghira Belladonna was its founder and is still suspected to be handling White Fang's behind the scenes.. But our immediate focus should be on the upcoming operation against Raven and her tribe. They pose a significant threat to the stability of Vale and the surrounding regions."

Ironwood's jaw tightened with determination. "Very well, Glynda. Raven Branwen and her tribe must be dealt with swiftly and decisively. We cannot allow them to continue operating unchecked, especially with the looming threat of Salem's forces on the horizon. I shall not press you on this any further."

Ironwood's expression softened slightly as he shifted the conversation to Qrow Branwen, his thoughts lingering on the complexities of the situation. "How is Qrow handling the prospect of going up against his sister?" he inquired, his voice tinged with genuine concern.

Glynda's gaze grew distant for a moment, her brow furrowing with concern. "Qrow is... conflicted, to say the least," she replied carefully. "He's grappling with the realization that his sister is a maiden, and the weight of that knowledge weighs heavily on him. He said he should have seen it coming, but he's struggling to come to terms with the implications of Raven's newfound power and her lies."

Ironwood nodded in understanding, his admiration for Qrow's skill in his tone. "Qrow's skill and resourcefulness are undeniable. His efforts in stopping the train full of explosives made from dust were nothing short of remarkable. But I can't help but wonder if he'll be able to maintain that focus when faced with the prospect of confronting his own flesh and blood."

Glynda regarded him with a thoughtful expression. "Qrow is a seasoned Huntsman, James. He's faced countless challenges in his life, and I have faith that he'll rise to the occasion when the time comes. But the emotional toll of facing Raven may prove to be his greatest challenge yet. You know how it is. He'll do what's right."

"I hope so too," Ironwood murmured to himself, his gaze fixed on the holographic display before him. "I hope that my trust isn't... misplaced.

With a last nod of acknowledgment, Ironwood ended the call and turned his attention back to the pressing matters at hand. The White Fang, the Wyvern, the Maidens, and then Salem forces.

He turned his attention to the Beacon Tower in the far distance. "Oz, you really honestly believe that your children can win this war?"

The shattered moon hung high in the night sky, casting a silver glow over the rooftop of Beacon Academy. Jaune Arc sat at the edge of the rooftop, his gaze fixed on the twinkling stars above. Unlike the skies of the Everafter, there were no myriad of galaxies he could find. Just that shattered moon among the black void littered with stars.

His thoughts were a fierce storm, swirling with confusion, frustration, and a tinge of guilt.

As he sat there, lost in his own contemplation, the gentle creak of the rooftop door opening caught his attention. Pyrrha stepped out, her presence like a calming breeze in the midst of his stormy thoughts. She made her way over to him, her expression concerned yet comforting.

"Hey, Jaune," Pyrrha said softly as she settled down beside him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of what was troubling him. "I thought you'd be here after leaving like that."

Jaune forced a small smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Hey, Pyrrha. Are they… is Team RWBY fine?"

"Yes, your Semblance has worked its magic. Though Yang's still in bed. It will take time for her to heal. I heard the General is going to give her an arm… the same type of prosthetic that the General had. It will take a lot of surgeries and getting used to, but with her teammates. I think they'll do fine."

"That's… good."

Then there was a brief silence between them, filled only by the distant sounds of the night. Then Pyrrha spoke up, her voice gentle but probing. "Can I ask you something?"

Jaune nodded, turning his gaze back to the stars. "Of course."

"It's about Blake," Pyrrha began, choosing her words carefully. "I couldn't help but notice... the way you've treated her and most of them. It's different from how you are with the others."

A flicker of discomfort passed over Jaune's features, though he tried to mask it with a shrug. "I don't know what you're talking about."

But Pyrrha wasn't fooled. She reached out and gently took his hand in hers, her touch warm and reassuring. "Jaune, you can talk to me. I'm your friend. It's… easy to see how you interact with them. Yes, I know they have failings and I understand where you are coming from, but —"

Jaune sighed, his shoulders slumping in exhaustion. " I've just been... frustrated, I guess."

"Frustrated?" Pyrrha prompted gently, encouraging him to open up.

"Yeah," Jaune admitted. "I guess I've been taking it out on Blake. It's not fair to her, I know. It's just... she asks for help, and I... I don't know, I just get so... petty."

Pyrrha nodded in understanding. "I think she knows what she have done."

"Does she?" Jaune murmured. "She's your friend… and I can be more polite with them... that's what I can do at least."

Pyrrha made a heavy sigh. "Then that's enough for me.."

"Thanks, Pyrrha," Jaune said sincerely.

They sat together in silence for a while longer, the night air wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. As the silence lingered between them, Jaune felt compelled to open up further, to share the burden weighing heavily on his heart. It's funny how this rooftop became his quiet spot again.

"You know, Pyrrha," Jaune began, his voice tinged with vulnerability, "I think part of why I've been acting this way towards Blake... it's because of cats."

Pyrrha furrowed her brow in confusion, her concern deepening. "Um… Cats?"

"Yeah," Jaune nodded, his gaze dropping to his lap. "I... I have this irrational hate of them, I guess. And whenever I'm around them, I just... I lose control."

Pyrrha's expression softened with understanding. "Is it something from your past?"

Jaune nodded again, his jaw tightening with the weight of his memories. "Yeah. It's... it's a long story, but there was this... cat, or something that looked like a cat that masquerade into a person, that turned my friends against me, made them doubt me, made me doubt myself. It was... a nightmare."

Pyrrha's eyes widened with shock and sympathy. "Like what you told me? Is that why?"

"Yeah," Jaune sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging with the weight of his past trauma. "It's just... whenever I see a cat, it brings back all those horrible memories. Like a trigger… and it brings out the worst parts of me. I have nothing against the cat-like faunus nor cats… but they bring back memories I hate."

"So... that cat, or person, was the one who helped your friends betray you," Pyrrha murmured, her voice filled with empathy.

Jaune nodded solemnly, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. "Yeah. And it's hard to forget something like that. It broke me, Pyr. It did. I've been better… but it's still here," he tapped his head.

Pyrrha took a moment to process his words, her mind swirling with a mixture of sadness and frustration. "Jaune, I understand that what happened to you was terrible, but... you can't let it consume you like this. Holding onto that hatred, directing it at innocent people... it's not fair, and it's not right. Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and Yang are not the people who betrayed you. They are not the same."

Jaune flinched at her words, knowing deep down that she was right. He felt the weight of guilt settle heavily in his chest, knowing that he had been unjust in his treatment of Blake and perhaps others.

"I know," he admitted quietly, his voice tinged with shame. "I know I shouldn't be putting hatred on anyone who even remotely resembles that cat...them... but I just... I lose control. I could have done more… horrible if I lose that control. "

Pyrrha reached out and gently squeezed his hand, her touch a silent reassurance of her support. "But you have to try, for yourself and for those around you."

Jaune nodded, a flicker of determination igniting in his eyes. "I'll try, Pyrrha."

She smiled softly. "I know you will, Jaune. And remember, the fact that you're not drawing your sword, even in the midst of your anger... it says a lot about your strength and your control."

A bittersweet smile tugged at Jaune's lips as he met Pyrrha's gaze, gratitude shining in his eyes. "Thanks, Pyrrha. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never have to find out," Pyrrha replied, her voice filled with unwavering determination. "We're in this together, Jaune. Always."

Jaune sat there, frozen in time, as memories surfaced. Memories he thought had faded away. Her words reverberated through his mind like a haunting melody, each syllable a dagger piercing his heart. Pyrrha's unwavering determination, her unwavering commitment, her gentle kindness, echoed in his ears, and yet, it felt like a cruel reminder of what could have been.

In that moment, Jaune's mind drifted to another life, another reality where he did find out how cold it was without her. Where the weight of that knowledge crushed him beneath its unbearable burden. He remembered the pain yet determining etched on Pyrrha's face as she sent him away in that locker.

The thought clawed at his soul, tearing down the walls he had built to keep his emotions at bay. He had buried the memories of that other life, buried them deep within the recesses of his mind, but now they surged forth with a relentless force, flooding his senses with a torrent of regret and longing.

In that fleeting moment, Jaune allowed himself to feel the full weight of his grief, to acknowledge the pain of a love lost and a future denied. Their time together in that life was precious but finite, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing her all over again.

Jaune forced himself to push aside his anguish, to bury it deep within his soul once more. He plastered on a brave smile, masking the turmoil raging beneath the surface, and buried it again.

I shouldn't be like this. Do not make her worry all the time like last time. Don't you dare be a burden to her again! They are her friends too… she'd be mad if I continue like this. Is it worth to divide ourselves for a moment pettiness? Is it worth showing him this kind of Jaune Arc?

Then he felt a pang of distress coursing through him. He knew deep down that his behavior towards Blake and the others, fueled by his irrational fear and hatred, was unjust and petty. Despite his efforts to control it, the lingering effects of the past continued to haunt him, staining his perception of the present.

Inwardly, Jaune acknowledged the truth in Pyrrha's words. He knew that the Blake and the others he knew now were not the same as the one who had betrayed him in that other life. Yet, try as he might, he struggled to separate the two in his mind. The mere thought of that curious cat, with its calculating gaze and deceitful actions, ignited a maddening fury within him that he found difficult to stamp out.

Even with the assistance of the tree and its calming influence that healed his maddened mind, there remained a residue of hatred within Jaune, a vile stain that he loathed to acknowledge. The fact that he could be so consumed by irrationality and hatred disgusted him, and yet, he found himself powerless to fully overcome it.

Each reminder of that damned cat served as a trigger, plunging him into a hurricane of emotions that threatened to overwhelm his senses. Try as he might to maintain control, Jaune knew that the roots of his irrational hatred continued to tighten their grip on his soul, dragging him deeper into darkness with each passing moment.

As he sat there on the rooftop, surrounded by the comforting presence of Pyrrha, Jaune knew he couldn't continue to let his past dictate his present, nor could he allow his irrational hatred to poison his relationships with those around him.

He would make things worst. And Salem would relish on that chance to divide them. That would become a weakness, and a weakness he could not allow to fester. Even if it wasn't for him, then he'd at least do it for Pyrrha, who considers them as her friends.

She really does bring the best and the worst of me...it's time to think this through.

"Can... I have some time alone?"

"Of course," Pyrrha nodded and placed a reassuring hand. "You know where to find me... and try not to stay out there. Please, rely on your leader, okay? I'm always here to talk if you want to."

Jaune agreed and watched as Pyrrha bid him farewell to give him some space. He remained seated on the rooftop, the cool night air wrapping around him like a shroud. Alone with his thoughts, he couldn't help but reflect on the events of the past few days. With the moonlight dancing across the rooftops, Jaune's mind churned with a mix of emotions. He realized, with a pang of annoyance, that he had been unfairly harsh and petty towards Blake and perhaps others. The realization hit him hard, stirring a deep sense of shame within him.

But amidst the turmoil of his thoughts, another revelation dawned upon him. These were not just any individuals he was dealing with — they were teenagers, filled with the recklessness and impulsiveness characteristic of youth. In another life, he and they had been no different, swept up in the chaos of the world, so naïvely idealistic and over their heads with a desperate wish to save the world against Salem and her forces.

Jaune's thoughts led him to confront the discrepancy between his actions and the values he held dear. Despite the past grievances he harbored towards some of them, he couldn't find it in himself to revel in their misfortune or taunt them. Beneath the layers of resentment and bitterness, there remained a kernel of empathy — a recognition that despite their flaws, they were still just young, vulnerable individuals trying to find their way into the world — even more so the Blake of this life still trying to find her place in this world.

With a heavy sigh, Jaune scolded himself for succumbing to his baser instincts, for allowing his past experiences to cloud his judgment and dictate his behavior. He reminded himself that despite his newfound youthfulness, thanks to the tree, there was still an old soul within him, one that should have known better than to succumb to pettiness and spite.

But even as he admonished himself, Jaune realized that burying his feelings and shoving them to the back of his mind wouldn't solve anything. It wouldn't erase the scars of the past or mend the rifts that had formed between them. Instead, he resolved to confront them head-on, to strive for understanding instead.

As Jaune closed his eyes, a flood of memories came to him — memories of betrayal, pain, and the sting of abandonment engulfed him. The image of that curious cat mocking him with its sly grin burned brightly in his mind.

He saw his friends, faces twisted with guilt and reluctance as they turned against him, forced to betray him by the manipulations of that forsaken creature made by the Brothers who sought to leave the Everafter. He felt the weight of their hesitant actions, the pain of their betrayal cutting deep into his soul.

And then—

It's not their fault. They sincerely believed that in order to escape the Everafter, a sacrifice must be made, just like how they thought Alyx sacrificed Lewis. They thought to sacrifice me, not out of abandonment or hate. Team RWBY would've never done that and only did so because the curious cat guided them to that conclusion. It wasn't their fault. I had lost my mind, all alone in that world, without a single companion, betrayed by Alyx. All they saw was an old man in rusted armor, not Jaune Arc, and the cat made them think that way. I was part of the cause, and it was the cat who delivered the final blow and won. The ones here... aren't them.

Jaune found a sudden glimmer of clarity — a realization that holding onto his pain and anger served no purpose, that it only served to keep him chained to the past. No better than that devious creature who had soundly defeated him because of his distrust and hate.

"Sometimes all it takes is an act of kindness and act of dishonesty to produce marvelous and horrible changes," Jaune recalled the wise words of the Blacksmith.. He knew he had to hold on to those words, to let them guide him. "I guess... I don't want to become like an Ozpin...so distrustful and secretive."

"I'm still trying, you know?" he said, his voice filled with a pained sincerity. "I'm... still trying to be good…"

That's Alyx's knife. I thought she… how did you have this?

When Alyx's life ended, she chose to leave a part of herself behind. A wish to fix what she had broken.

Jaune laughed bitterly.

He had almost forgotten.

The reason for his youth and perhaps why he could walk with his friends again. That was only because of Alyx's change of heart that he could have all of this. That despite what Alyx had done to him, she choose to be better.

And because she chooses to fix her mistakes that he could be here.

He shouldn't rob them of that chance.

Everyone had that capacity to do better.

If he had been a young man, he might have persisted in pettiness. However, the passing years had given him enough wisdom for him to address his flaws responsibly. Though he appeared youthful on the outside, inside of him was an old soul who knew still how to comport himself according to his age.

The stubbornness of his youth had long dissipated, leaving him no excuse to persist in behaving like a teenager. One could argue that his younger brain was responsible, but he knew better than to rely solely on that as an excuse for his stubbornness.

To actually try to be patient with them will take time and effort. It would become an ongoing process. He knew he was still broken, but that was no excuse to continue like this. Sure, he might still become angry about their actions, seethe at what they do, but no one was perfect.

He needed to do better and have the patience to see through it.

Like he always have done.