When I looked up alternative ice cream flavors for Neo's fake name, I found out that Harlequin was another name for Neapolitan ice cream. And, well, if the shoe fits...
Also, woe and suffering trying to give Cinder's team a name. CMEN/Cinnamon is a semi-common fandom one, but that's assuming Neo keeps a name that starts with N, which I figure would kinda ruin the point of being incognito. She IS a known criminal, after all, and she used her Semblance often enough in Roman Holiday and canon that it's probably a matter of public record that she can change her appearance.
And I know it might seem a bit weird that Qrow has little to no reaction about his nieces being time-travelers, but I promise, it's intentional. He found out and reacted off-screen, and there's going to be a specific scene down the line where the whole family gets together and unpacks All Of That. It's just less important than what's going on in this chapter.
Beacon.
Once, Cinder would have dreamed of coming here.
No, that was inaccurate: she had dreamed of coming here, or someplace just like it.
She had filled her mind with dreams about becoming a powerful Huntress, the kind whom no one could stand against and live. Perhaps she would have formed a team, each loyally following her lead because they were in awe of the strength of the girl that was Cinder Fall. They would've taken awards, tournaments, glories, and each achievement would be dirt rubbed into the face of the woman who had made Cinder doubt her worth to even live.
But things like that were, ultimately, fantasies. It was time and more than time to face the world as an adult.
She didn't need to be heroic, only strong.
She didn't need to win awards, only battles.
She didn't need loyal teammates, only obedient pawns.
She resisted the urge to pick at the dark Haven uniform she currently wore as the airship hummed beneath her. Wearing this… it was like an odd dress-up costume of the person she might've been, and she wasn't sure how she felt in it. Cinder let none of that uncertainty show on her face, of course: it was a weakness to be exploited. Instead, her expression was as calm and smooth as glass, a faint hint of a smile playing about her lips, as she and her so-called team were flown to Beacon.
Mercury was fixated on his Scroll, some garish game music playing out as his fingers flew across the screen. Rather than his usual lax pose, his legs were curled in beneath him under the seat, which pleased her. He had taken her "advice" to minimize the risk of exposing his mechanical prosthetics to heart, it seemed. Well, of course he would. Marcus Black had not been a kind teacher, and however cocky Mercury acted, he knew the benefits of obedience very well indeed.
Emerald, on her other side, was a good deal more open. Open in posture, open in those crimson eyes looking around with frank curiosity, poorly-disguised as the wonder of a new student coming to a different academy. She caught Cinder's gaze on her immediately, and turned her head slightly to respond, offering her leader a nervous smile. Cinder's own faint smile stiffened a little, becoming mask-like.
That, she had to admit, was one of the more… difficult things in adjusting to her new life under Salem. Cinder had never had other people to concern herself with: she and the other children at the orphanage had been in grim competition for available resources, the Madame and her two daughters were enemies to be avoided (and then slain), and Rhodes had been… well, Rhodes. Now, for the very first time in Cinder's life, she had minions to order about, pawns who looked to her and only her for orders. As much as she savored it, it was a strange feeling.
Cinder's eyes moved past her pawn, and narrowed a little as they landed on Neo. Posing as "Harlequin Mint," she had recolored her hair with black dye and her eyes with her Semblance, wearing pigtails and bright green eyes, as well as the Haven uniform that both Emerald and Cinder were sporting. She was something of a risk, but it wasn't like Cinder could have used any of her other associates. Aside from the age problem, both Hazel and Watts were known to Ozpin's inner circle, and Tyrian?
Hah.
No.
Torchwick, of course, was out for the same reason, so unless she wanted to place herself in the even more vulnerable position of bringing in a stranger, Neopolitan would have to be the fourth member of the so-called Team CEMM, or "Clementine."
Her team.
Cinder huffed a little to herself, and her lips curled.
Yet another proof that her childhood dreams were just that, silly little fantasies. One did not need to apply to the academies, become a Huntress, to become powerful.
She knew that just from the way that the broken half of the Maiden powers burned inside her. Every person on Remnant –except for herself– relied on Aura and Semblances to fight, were helpless when their Auras were broken, but not Cinder. No, not anymore. She had gone beyond. She had the eternal, unquenchable powers of a Maiden inside her, a gnawing in her blood and bones that drew her inexorably towards Beacon like a needle to lodestone.
She was not helpless –would never be helpless again.
Other people might have been uncomfortable with the emptiness swirling through them. Cinder was in love with it. The constant buzz in the back of her mind, the visceral need to be reunited with her other half that ground deeper into her bones with every Maiden-born fireball she conjured –oh, yes, Cinder was in love with that feeling. It was the raw, untamed feeling of potential –of future power waiting for her, just beyond her fingertips.
She was well-acquainted with hunger and misery, after all. And this? This was a small price to be paid, if it meant the sweet taste of unchallenged supremacy. If being torn into two pieces hurt this much, she could only imagine how much more powerful she would be when the halves of the Maiden power were reunited.
And they would be reunited. Cinder could not afford to fail. Salem did not necessarily punish failure as the Madame had, but Cinder knew that failure in this particular case was unacceptable. Much time and resources had gone into planning this infiltration, and not all of it her own. Watt's virus, tracking down the soon-to-be-ex-Maiden, training Cinder to replace her, arranging their cover stories with Lionheart, the paper trail they had created, assembling the White Fang and gathering the players and pieces for this assault…
It was not at all unfair to say that this moment –this bright, sunny morning as she and the rest of Haven's students flew to Beacon to compete in the Vytal Tournament– was the culmination of almost a decade of work and plans, and Cinder's first real debut as Salem's foremost agent. So much was riding on it; the fate of men, nations, even Salem's goals themselves. If she botched it up…
A shiver ran through Cinder's shapely shoulders, barely perceptible.
Well, she doubted that she would need to worry about punishment. Failure where she actually survived the assault would only end in one thing: execution. Whether it was Atlas's draconian measures or Salem assassinating her, she would not survive in any case. There was no corner on Remnant where she could hide from the combined wrath of both parties.
But the measure of the stakes was also the measure for her preparation, and Cinder merely would not fail. She could not fail. Everything had been laid with absolute perfection.
She had to admit, though, as she stepped off of the airship and made her way down the gangplank with the rest of her supposed team, she was still not… completely without trepidation.
The fact that a monkey Faunus she vaguely recognized from Haven strolling past the docks with a friend saw her, gaped, and then walked straight into a pole also did not particularly set her at ease.
"Isn't that guy from Haven?" Emerald asked blankly from her place standing at Cinder's shoulder, both her and Cinder's luggage strung on one arm, as they all watched his friend pull him away from the pole and shake him earnestly.
"Yup. Sun Wukong, leader of Team SSSN." Mercury answered automatically from her other side, although he seemed just as nonplussed. "No idea who the Faunus chick is, though."
Said young Huntress trainee flicked a glance over her shoulder, seeking for what had so distracted her friend, and caught sight of Team CEMM. She blinked in surprise –and then, despite the blankness of her face, Cinder caught how those furry black cat ears atop her head swiveled back a little.
"Sorry!" the black-haired Faunus called not even a beat later, her expression rapidly turning apologetic. "He does this a lot!"
Without releasing her grip on her groggy companion's shoulders, she turned around and began pushing him back towards the school's entrance.
Well, that was… odd. Cinder knew that she naturally looked ravishing –after all, she had worked hard to become so. But still, she hardly thought that she was so stunning a young man would walk himself into a pole. Then again…
"Mercury." Cinder said slowly, narrowing her eyes after the retreating duo. "What do you know about him?"
"Sun Wukong. 17 years old, first-year Huntsman trainee, Semblance is Via Sun, weapon is a mecha-shift gunchuck-staff combo called Ruyi Bang and Jingu Bang." Mercury rattled off immediately, as though reading from a list.
As she had expected: Mercury's instincts as an assassin were instilled too deep to shake, and he automatically memorized and categorized every potential future threat he saw. He had spent long hours poring over the Haven database that they had access to for just this reason.
"He's the leader of Team SSSN, born in Vacuo, noted habit of being an airhead and wandering off on adventures without his team. Best friend is Neptune Vasilias, the usual replacement for him when he wanders off is Scarlet Ayana. Makes friends easily."
By that last comment, Cinder knew that Mercury was obliquely stating that it would be easy to get rid of him. A little troubled look in a secluded corner, a promise to secrecy, a hint of an adventure waiting in the wings… and then a quick bullet to the back of the head once they'd left prying eyes behind at Beacon, or perhaps a knife through the heart. It would be a tragic incident and a mystery that was never solved, and all his friends and teammates would undoubtedly rue how one of Sun's reckless and impulsive wanderings had cost him his life.
Simple.
Easy.
"Not necessary, I think." Cinder said, nodding to Emerald to pick up their bags again as they started forward. By that, she meant that she had no interest in eliminating the unfortunate Sun Wukong until it proved necessary. His brain was obviously not one of his best features, and if he had a habit of losing what little intelligence he possessed in face of a pretty woman, well, no wonder his friend had expressed that momentary flicker of dislike in her direction. If they were flirting, he must lead her a frustrated and merry dance indeed.
Cinder smirked and flicked a long, lacquer-colored strand of her hair over one ear.
Nobody suspected a thing.
"I can't believe nobody suspects anything." Ruby growled, chewing furiously on a corner of her cloak, which was clenched taunt between both hands.
"I can't believe Ozpin hasn't done anything." Yang muttered back, glaring at the three (well, four) heads that dared to sit in the tier beneath them in combat class with such impunity. Ruby could tell that she dearly wanted to flick some paper –or even a booger– at them, if only because they couldn't possibly retaliate against something so petty. But no. Goodwitch had her eye on them.
Ever since Sun and Blake had burst in telling them that Cinder was here, here-here, yes really, everyone had been… understandably on-edge, albeit for different reasons.
Team SSSNI (the I of which was now nervously cooped up in the dorm room, since she wasn't sure if any of Cinder's team would recognize her) had all been mostly tense, like they were gearing up for the beginning of a race, as they eyed the fateful team of bad guys which had arrived with all the other new students.
Most of Team JNPR –for reasons that included Beacon tower, Maiden, and Pyrrha– were rather outraged that Ozpin hadn't done anything about Team CEMM showing up, other than apparently tell the staff, since there always seemed to be a teacher coincidentally hanging around wherever Cinder's team went. Not directly observing, no, but… hanging around, nonetheless.
And as for her team?
Well, feelings were mixed there. Ruby was definitely in Jaune's camp of how-dare-Ozpin-not-arrest-them-right-now, with Yang not far behind. Weiss and Blake, however, were a little more conflicted.
"He's not taking our information as gospel, as well he shouldn't, considering we're basically strangers." Weiss muttered. Her jaw was tight, though, and it wasn't from stress. "He's probably waiting for them to do something incriminating to confirm our mutual suspicions."
"Suspicions nothing. Gah! Look at 'em down there, smug bastards so sure that they're-"
Blake drove a heel into her partner's foot. Griping about the unfairness of this was all very well and good, but they didn't want Cinder to actually hear their outraged mutters about how she should be arrested, imprisoned, and/or assassinated. Possibly in that order.
"We're playing it cool for right now." she reminded Yang. "You can dogpile Ozpin later if you want, but we have to make sure to do it later, as in, after school. Act normal already, for pity's sake."
Grumbling and rubbing her foot, Yang subsided.
It was hard not to want to glare holes in the back of Cinder's team's heads, though, except for maybe Emerald. And Neo.
Okay, so maybe it was just Mercury and Cinder whose skulls Ruby wanted her eyes to burn holes through –and wasn't it weird how that wasn't an impossible thought, considering her silver eyes and Cinder's… partial Grimm-ness. Maybe it would be okay to accidentally flash her silver eyes at them? Just a little bit? Not on purpose? To see if Cinder reacted to it at all?
Noooo, no self-sabotage. Ruby thought, chewing harder on her poor abused cloak in her anger. Stupid bad guys, knowing what silver eyes meant before I did.
Well, okay, she only presumed that they knew about silver eyes –Tyrian had seemed to, since he'd tried to kidnap her and take her to Salem. (What would've happened if he succeeded was a thought best not traveled by, given the Hound.) But it was a little bit hard, even for Ruby and her friends, to discern exactly how the hierarchy of Salem's forces worked. Were there rankings? Was Cinder on the same level as Tyrian and Hazel and Watts, or were they different? Did Salem not care? Or did she have to control them?
For one fractionally small sliver of a second, Ruby almost considered letting one of her friends infiltrate Salem's ranks to learn more.
But no. Bad idea. Way too risky.
She shoved that thought aside and killed it with the appropriate amount of fire, before returning her focus to their plans moving forward. This was still the first day, so Haven's students and all the other guests had yet to really spread themselves out among the Beacon population.
Cinder's team had still acted approachable and studious, Cinder flashing that meaningless smooth smile of hers as she sashayed through the corridors and nodded politely to passing teachers and students, always getting her team to the correct classroom on time, always obliging to everyone around her.
The teeny tiny part of Ruby that always sounded suspiciously like Yang was urging her to punch Cinder in the face, just to destroy that stupid façade.
Emerald seemed both more and less at ease than Ruby remembered –or maybe she was just better at reading Emerald than she had been. She seemed perfectly friendly and curious, just another transfer student here for the Vytal Festival, but her friendliness seemed… pushed, like she was forcing it out of herself.
She extended a hand to her nearby deskmates or chatted with people in the hall, but her eyes always, always flicked back to Cinder, and there was just… it was something in the way she moved that reminded Ruby of someone perpetually caught in the middle of a slight-of-hand trick, a constant projection of flowing gestures and a cheerful expression that didn't quite manage to disguise the fact that there was something going on beneath the surface.
Mercury was a bit… okay, Ruby wasn't scared of him, but she couldn't help but notice how even as he smiled and cracked those smarmy jokes of his as he settled into classroom after classroom, his eyes were always roaming, always scanning the area and people around him. They lingered on the entrances and exits, and whenever he caught someone actually looking at him or his team, his head would tilt just barely to the side, and even if his expression seemed impudent and careless, Ruby couldn't help but notice the alert readiness in his posture.
He caught her gaze once or twice, and even though his mouth smiled, there was something dark and calculating, like a ghost of suspicion, rising behind his gaze.
Mercury, they'd have to watch out for. Emerald was wrapped up in making sure that her act matched Cinder's, and Cinder was so very confident in herself that she wasn't even considering that her façade as a perfectly normal student might be pierced, but Mercury… Mercury was sharp. The way he eyed the world around him made Ruby wonder if he was ever off guard, if he ever stopped looking at everything around him for potential threats or use as tools.
As much as she was sure now that she could take him, that constant wariness made her shiver.
"Looking on the bright side." Blake continued, making Ruby look back at her. "Maybe it sucks that he hasn't really done anything but alert the staff, but Ozpin still did alert the staff. He might not be taking our information as absolute gospel, but he is taking it some kind of seriously. That's got to count for something, right?"
Ruby and Yang both perked up a little at that.
After all, it wasn't like the so-called Team CEMM wouldn't give Ozpin plenty of evidence for an arrest down the line.
Pyrrha was not used to dealing with these sorts of emotions.
Her training as a celebrity ensured that the worst that ever showed on her face was a bemused and slightly-vacant smile, and her training as a Huntress kept her hands from shaking as that red-dressed woman strutted into Oobleck's class with her minions in tow. Beside her, Nora's fist clenched hard enough around her pencil that the fragile wood snapped, and Ren laid a reassuring –and perhaps quieting– hand on his friend's shoulder. Jaune was the least subtle of them all, and he narrowed his eyes at Cinder with such unabashed, venomous hatred that it would have frightened the Pyrrha of a few months ago.
But that Pyrrha hadn't known just what horrors her partner had gone through to fix that expression on his face, and she gently nudged him with her elbow as he looked at her. Understanding dawned in those stormy blue eyes, and Jaune gave a tight nod, before he closed his eyes and consciously, visibly relaxed with a long, slow breath.
Pyrrha knew exactly how he felt. Her emotions were roiling like a bubbling pot just beneath the surface, and every time she looked at Cinder the same image flashed before her eyes –a grey ash-streaked tower choked with ruined cogs, screaming Grimm, and a practiced movement of those red-clad arms as obsidian fragments wove together in midair to form a molten-hot bow and shining arrow aimed at her heart–
She swallowed, nauseously. She didn't know how to deal with this.
You killed me. Pyrrha thought, staring at that slender back covered in Haven's uniform and the glossy waves of dark hair spilling over it. If she didn't know what she had learned from Jinn, she would've probably admired the leader of Team CEMM, so perfect, so poised, so effortlessly in control of herself and her teammates. But knowing what she did know now, she just felt sick at that possibility. You're going to kill me.
Going to try and kill her, Pyrrha reminded herself. Her, and anyone else that this …Cinder… suspected was a Maiden candidate.
Unsurprisingly, though, the knowledge that she might not be the only target was not comforting to Pyrrha.
She couldn't believe that Ozpin, who had been told all this, had just let this… woman walk right into Beacon. Surely there was something suspicious he could arrest her on! Surely- surely Professor Lionheart, who was a traitor, would've left evidence of that treachery somewhere?
Pyrrha didn't like the feeling she was having now, the possibility lingering around the edges of her mind that Ozpin and the other teachers she trusted might consider the possibility of her death an acceptable risk. That she was a piece on their board –someone they valued, sure, but someone less important than the big picture, than winning the game at hand.
For all of her mixed feelings on how Jaune and Team RWBY had handled their miraculous return and sharing the news about said return –and Pyrrha's feelings on that were still very, very mixed– it was still abundantly clear that he and the others cared. They weren't lining Pyrrha and the others up like pieces on a chessboard, they were clinging to their newfound/old friends and teammates with fierce, desperate affection.
"No one is replaceable," that future Ren had said, and Pyrrha could tell that each and every one of her returned friends agreed with that sentiment. Even Neo, who was clearly ready to turn the world inside-out if it kept her criminal partner by her side, healthy and marginally happy.
If Ozpin had been the one to return –er, in a way different from his normal resurrections, that was– Pyrrha doubted that he'd be seething which such repressed fury at Cinder as Jaune was now, and it gave her a certain sort of comfort that she badly needed.
It was so… bizarre, seeing Cinder like this? Distressing? Macabre? Unsettling?
There needed to be a word for the emotion "facing someone you know will kill you and trying to get a grip on that." Pyrrha, who was not the scholar Weiss was, was blanking on options for such a word. Outrage, maybe?
Well, whatever it was, it was not a pleasant thing to carry throughout the day, watching the woman stroll from class to class with the rest of the Haven students, a perfectly amicable smile on that smooth, expressionless face and her three lackeys trailing in her wake. Neo even caught Pyrrha's agitated eye on one occasion and grinned, miming a throttling motion with an invisible noose around her own neck.
Oddly enough, that didn't help.
"Kssh. Beep. Washboard to Circuit-board, do you copy, over?"
"Beep. Circuit-board, loud and clear! What is your 20, over?"
"Kssh. Beep. Tree, lookin' in on the third floor. Surfboard, what's your 20? Uh, over."
"Kssh. Beep. That nickname doesn't even make sense."
"Kssh. Beep. Negative Surfboard, do not copy. What's your 20, over?"
"Beep. Copy loud and clear! 'Nickname-doesn't-even-make-sense' is not a location. Repeat, over?"
"Kssh. Beep. Uh, I did copy, Circuit-board, I was just tryin' to tell my bro here that he needs to tell us where he is."
"Beep. Oh. Is this the subtlety/sarcasm thing Color-Pallet was telling me about during our sleepover, over?"
Ilia's hand smacked into her face.
"Can you please try to be serious?" she begged the receiver she was huddled cross-legged in front of, hidden alone in Team SSSNI's dorm room.
"Beep. We are 100% absolutely committed to your safety, Color-Pallet! There are no signs of the targets anywhere near your location, over."
"Kssh. Beep. Copy that, Circuit-board. This is Washboard and I've got a negative on visual. Surfboard?"
"Kssh. Beep. My nickname doesn't make sense and I hate you, by the way. Uh, I'm not seeing anything either, looks like they're in that Cross-Cultural Community class thing. Which we were also supposed to go to, by the way."
"Beep. That is correct, and you are all forgetting to sign off at the end of your messages. Please stick to procedure, over."
"Kssh. Beep. Better do what she says, Surfboard, don't want the cute Atlas ladies to think you're unprofessional. Besides, the other two guys'll fill us in on what we missed, over."
Ilia picked up the radio transmitter that was connected to the box.
"This is… ugh, Color-Pallet." she sighed. "And I appreciate this, I really do, but you guys should actually be in class, over."
"Kssh. Beep. Negatory, Color-Pallet, I've got binoculars in one hand and a radio in the other, and I'm gonna stay that way until Ozpin steps in or these guys get thrown out of Beacon. No way they're gonna assassinate you or drag you back to you-know-who on my watch. Uh, over."
"Beep. Washboard, I have done an inventory of limbs and concluded that you can't be secure on a tree limb holding binoculars to your eyes in one hand and a radio to your ear in the other. Please advise, over?"
"Kssh. Beep. You're using your tail again, aren't you? Over."
"Kssh. Beep. Hey, my motto is if the gods give you a tail, you gotta use it, over."
"Kssh. Beep. I thought your motto was live to die another day? Over."
"Beep. Um, Washboard, wouldn't hanging upside-down from a tree and looking through binoculars on school grounds seem suspicious? Advising caution, over."
"Kssh. Beep. He does it all the time, don't worry. Oh, uh, looks like I've got some students coming my way. Surfboard, over and out."
"Kssh. Beep. Roger that. Will let you know if anything comes up, Color-Pallet. Washboard, over and out."
"Beep. I will also continue to stay on the lookout, Friend Color-Pallet!" Penny chimed through the radio. Her connection was a lot more clear than Sun and Neptune's, probably because she was a robot –which was, well, certainly a revelation to Ilia, even if it did explain a lot. "You are, as it is colloquially said, safe as houses inside your current location!"
"Thanks." Ilia sighed into her transmitter. "Over and out."
To be fair, she did feel a little safer in knowing that half of the original Team SSSN (and Penny) were scattered around Beacon, trying to keep an eye on Cinder and her minions. Their actual method of doing so, though, just felt so… blatantly overt. Old-school radios scrounged up from someplace in Professor Oobleck's storage room (whoever that was) made this operation feel like a cartoon, a feeling that was in no way helped by how casually Sun had dished out their code names or, apparently, had taken a sentry point in a tree with binoculars.
Ilia had been part of the White Fang, a military group, for a long time. This kind of unprofessionalism made her want to weep, even if Sun was constantly on her case about how she needed to relax and enjoy herself. Let yourself be young for once, he'd said, although he'd backed down quickly at her fierce glare of response. Ilia had let herself be young, and carefree, once upon a time –and look at where it had gotten her. Besides, with the threat currently circling Beacon, she had no time to relax.
One of the more important tasks that Team SSSN were continually trying to distract her from was writing down all her information on the White Fang. With Blake's help, Ilia was summing up who and how many were likely to be involved in the future attack on Beacon, as well as taking her own notes on who may or may not be convinced out of it.
Even in the more radical sections, the White Fang was not a monolith. People could hesitate, could second-guess, could doubt themselves. Ilia knew that better than anyone. Although she had to be very careful about contacting people, given that her disappearance would've raised more than a few red flags, Ilia could still cautiously reach out to active members in Adam's faction via Scroll, as she hadn't yet directly betrayed the White Fang. Her fight at the docks had been solely against Torchwick, and she could claim to have thought he was misusing her fellow Faunus.
She still had to be very careful, and not just because she didn't want to leave any trace or record of her communications. Adam was many, many things –her heart burned inside her as she thought of what he had done, what he would do in the future– but he was also very inspirational. And their people were angry.
Ilia knew that feeling all too well. The deep-seated, volcanic frustration that smoldered but was never extinguished, the resentment that still seethed like a bed of coals in her soul. And oh, how the primal satisfaction of lashing out quenched it. Vengeance and justification, all in one furious blow of her fist as she shattered the teeth of her snickering so-called friends. She had taken the feeling of that moment and applied it to the world at large: each raid, each assault, each rally was another etch chipped out of the humans' monument of superiority, another blow struck for Faunuskind.
Or so she had thought.
Reality was not so kind, but the anger that had once guided her every thought and deed was easy to direct and even easier to generate. Adam had a knack, too, for touching the rage that smoldered in every member of the White Fang and channeling it outwards. This time, he would say, pointing his sword towards another target, this time it will be different. This time we will take revenge. This time we will show them. This time we will teach them a lesson.
But it never seemed to make a difference, and all the this last times started to slide and blur together in her mind as her hands got bloodier and bloodier. The people Ilia was reaching out towards, she knew that they were frustrated, at the end of their mental leash, and they needed an outlet. Cinder, and through her Adam, was going to give them an outlet via the Beacon attack.
Ilia, somehow, needed to offer a different one.
It was tricky. She herself still hadn't let go of her rage, her resentment, her hate. Ilia just choked it down and swallowed her bitter thoughts, because there were bigger things at stake and however equalizing death may be, she still didn't want that to be what brought humans and Faunus to the same level. Not extinction.
But even if she trusted her acquaintances in the White Fang not to let the news leak back to Adam and Cinder, Ilia could hardly offer the explanation that had finally gotten her to go all-in on this side. Oh yes, you see, the Belladonna girl who defected recently is actually a time-traveler, and she wants me to warn you against participating in the Beacon raid coming up. Oh, and that little jaunt out to the tunnels of Mountain Glenn, too. Why? Nothing major, just that most of us die and the White Fang ends up splintered and fractured irreparably, no big deal.
Oh, you want proof?
Um…
Ilia snorted softly to herself. Yeah, right. She needed to find a more organic way to make people defect, or at least reluctant to offer themselves as volunteers for Cinder's schemes. She needed to do it quietly, too, so no one she talked to was eliminated on suspicion of being a traitor or a spy.
She flipped back to her notebook, opening it up right there on the floor. Ilia hummed softly to herself as she looked, trailing a pen down the page as she kept an absent ear out for the radio transmitter. Her list of contacts was thin, since she was cautiously going forward only with people she had known and disliked as cowards back when she was with the White Fang, people who wouldn't immediately rat her out to Adam the moment she called.
She found where she'd left off yesterday and picked up her Scroll.
"Tuckson's Book Trade, home to any book under the sun. How can I help you?"
"This is Ilia." she said politely, and caught an indrawn breath at the other end. "And I'd like to talk about a few things with you, if that's okay. You know, just between friends."
Given his apparent crimes in the future, James had been expecting a chilly reaction from the returnees (as Ozpin was not so subtly calling them), but seeing Jaune Arc and Ruby Rose freeze upon seeing him –seeing both their hands twitch towards their respective weapons for the briefest moment– drove it home to him like a spear through the chest. They were both so young, and yet for a moment, they looked at him with the visceral, startled hatred of seasoned veterans suddenly seeing an old enemy.
Then Ruby Rose took a deep breath, forced a neutral expression onto her face, and nodded to him slightly. Jaune Arc clenched his jaw and looked away, pointedly fixing his eyes somewhere out of the windows at the distant vista.
James coughed.
"I… realize that my presence here may be somewhat unwelcome." he said into the somewhat awkward silence, folding his arms and attempting to look as harmless as he possibly could.
"I mean, it would look kinda weird if you weren't here." Miss Rose said, meeting his gaze briefly before her eyes drifted away again.
"Mm." Mister Arc contributed.
James did not miss that neither of them actually disagreed with his statement. He sighed.
"Please, I understand." he said. And hadn't that been an unwelcome and uncomfortable conversation with Ozpin, when he came up to Beacon's tower expecting little more than a scolding about bringing his armada to keep the peace during the Vytal Festival. "The actions I took during the fall of Atlas were… unconscionable."
"Well, at least you admit it." Miss Rose mumbled, the two students' eyes flicking together for a moment as her friend nodded in agreement. James winced.
"Whatever your feelings on me are –and I have no doubt they were based on valid experience– there is a bigger task at hand." he said, forging onward as best he could. "Surely you can at least work with me to deal with Salem?"
"Oh yeah, totally." Arc said. "It's just the methods of dealing with her are a bit…"
"Heavy-handed?" Rose suggested.
"I was gonna say heartless."
"Authoritarian?"
"Draconian."
"Dictator-y?"
"Genocidal."
"All right, all right, stop before you make Jimmy cry." Qrow drawled from where he was leaning against a pillar. "Sheesh, you kiddos don't hold back."
James eyeballed him with disfavor. There was a ghost of a sardonic smirk at the corner of Qrow's mouth: he was clearly enjoying James's discomfort despite the heaviness of the subject.
"I can accept criticism when it is validly offered, Qrow." he said, his voice pointed. "And I am not the same man who burned Atlas."
"That remains to be seen." Glynda said, and he tried not to let the sharp glare she sent in his direction cut too deep. He would be wary too, if their positions were reversed.
"Children." Ozpin said pointedly from where he was watching all of this, chin resting on his folded hands. "Act your age, please."
Everyone glared at him.
The headmaster smiled, apparently immune to their unified efforts, and then shifted, picking up his mug.
"In any case, I believe it is time that we officially laid out our unified plans. Miss Rose, Mister Arc, if you would begin?"
The two sent James one last suspicious, reluctant look, before they both sighed and pressed on.
"Cinder and her team are here." Arc said, folding his arms and all but glaring at his own headmaster. "Why aren't they arrested yet?"
"Our actions do not take place in a vacuum, Mister Arc." Ozpin replied. "Arresting a trainee Huntress and her team without cause this close to the Vytal Festival would start quite the diplomatic incident, and though I may believe you, we can hardly place your story before the media or other government officials."
"I caught a bit of a glimpse when I was rescuing Autumn." Qrow said, politely avoiding Amber's name out of habit. "The lady that wiped her soul had dark hair and red dress, and her two little minions were grey and green, but that's not a lot to go on, and definitely not enough to convince the council."
"So what, you're just going to wait and see until she puts an arrow through your eye?" Arc asked angrily. Miss Rose put a hand on his arm.
"We are not reluctant to act, Mister Arc. What we need is evidence." Glynda stressed, narrowing her eyes at the duo slightly. "We have alerted the staff at Beacon and put Cinder Fall and her team under surveillance, but if we are to effect an arrest, we will need hard proof of her current misdeeds. Which is what brings us to your information…"
With a flick of her hand, Glynda scattered granules of Hard Light Dust in the center of Ozpin's office, her Semblance twisting them into the rough shape of the Beacon CCT.
"You stated that Cinder Fall infiltrated the CCT during the dance Beacon held to celebrate the Vytal Festival." Glynda said, striding around it. "Miss Rose, you were the one to interrupt her, correct?"
"Yeah." she said, and James was not used to a fifteen-year-old seeming so… speculative as she eyed the makeshift hologram of the tower. "We figured that that was when she planted the Black Queen virus she used to take over the festival broadcast. She didn't seem that bothered when I showed up: she pushed me back with her Semblance, and then ran off when Ironwood showed up."
Her eyes flicked back to him, as if suddenly remembering his presence in the room, before Miss Rose scowled slightly and looked back to the hologram.
"You're saying you want to catch her tampering with it?"
"If she is trying to plant a virus that will affect Atlas systems, her success will rely on speed and our inattention." James said, approaching the hologram. He began to point out key areas. "By placing observational cameras and additional soldiers at certain points within the tower, we should be able to lure her into a sense of complacency while also ensuring that we catch her red-handed."
"And exactly how trained are these soldiers gonna be?" Arc asked, drawn into the plan despite his palpable dislike. " 'Cause she walked right through them last time, right, Ruby?"
"More like mowed through them." Miss Rose said. "She didn't kill them, but she still was able to knock out everybody in the tower without even slowing down."
"Those guys wouldn't have been prepared to deal with a Huntress-level opponent, kiddo." Qrow said, reaching for his hip-flask. "Waste of time and money to hire people that strong to guard a glorified radio antenna day-in, day-out for the whole year, 'least according to the council."
James glared at Ozpin, but didn't say anything. Vale's security (or really, the lack thereof) had been a bone of contention between the two of them for a very, very long time.
"In any case, a foreign student tampering with the CCT would certainly be enough to arrest her, and once held, investigating and 'discovering' her false background would be a mere matter of time." Glynda said, and waved her riding crop, gathering the Hard Light Dust back up as the flickering image of the tower disappeared. "I trust this is satisfactory for the both of you?"
Miss Rose and Mister Arc exchanged glances. Even if he had not been told of their future exploits, James would have found that speaking look suspicious: mere trainees couldn't share so much with a simple wordless glance. It took years of training and, moreover, years of personal experience with a person to be able to say and see so much just through shared eye contact. Siblings or childhood friends, perhaps, might be able to understand each other through a glance, but first-year trainees never had the military experience to truly capitalize on that understanding.
But these two did. And that, if they truly were fifteen and seventeen-year-old leaders from two different teams, was impossible.
"What are we going to do while this is going on?" Miss Rose asked after a few moments, her silver eyes sweeping back to them. The stress she placed on we meant that there was a clear line drawn between her team and the adults in the room, and James made note of that for future use.
Qrow shrugged.
"Well, since we probably won't be able to stop you, you guys can hang around and be ready to jump in if things go south." he said flippantly.
"You will be attending the dance as students." Glynda said, piercing Qrow with a needle-like glance. "Our enemies are not acting to a script, and their plans are flexible: having provisional support will hopefully, at the very least, prevent them from doing too much damage if their plans change."
"You're sidelining us?" Arc asked, narrowing his eyes a little.
"We are treating you with respect for your age." Ozpin said, and every eye in the room was drawn to him as he got to his feet, mug in one hand and cane in the other. "Both of them. Most of your respective teams are on the level of graduates, and you will be staffing our dance in the same manner as auxiliary Huntresses and Huntsmen hired to protect our students and ensure the success of the CCT mission."
His hazel eyes flashed a little in warning, and James watched the duo shrink accordingly.
"But you are also my students, and I will not expose you to Salem's forces nor expect you to fight our war without a very good reason." Ozpin said with finality. "Enough has been asked of you already. Let us handle the burden for some time."
Another quick glance was shared between the two returnees.
"I guess so." Miss Rose said.
"Fair enough." Mister Arc sighed.
"Beacon's third Counter-Conspiracy Conspiracy meeting has now begun!" Penny said brightly, lowering her clipboard. "All members active and accounted for. Commencing progress reports!"
"I've been reaching out to current members of the White Fang, seeing who might or might not be convinced to jump ship." Ilia said, prompt as ever. Perhaps due to how chilly it was in Beacon's vault, she was perched on the seat of her fold-out chair with her arms wrapped around her legs. "My contacts have confirmed what Neo told us, that there's a movement of people and supplies with the ultimate goal of going to Mountain Glenn. They should be starting to go out there within the next few days –perhaps a week at the latest."
"Cinder delivered the Atlesian Paladins, and we're supposed to show them at a rally to unify the White Fang before the big push into Mountain Glenn." Neo said. "She doesn't seem to suspect anything about us double-crossing her yet."
"Well, me and Ruby just finished a meeting with Ozpin and the rest of his inner circle." Jaune sighed. "Since they don't actually have any concrete evidence that Cinder's a criminal, they plan on nabbing her when she makes a move to infiltrate the CCT at the dance. They want us on standby, making sure nothing goes wrong."
"And are we… actually doing that?" Blake asked, tilting her head as one ear swiveled flat and the other perked upright.
"I dunno." Ruby said. She fidgeted where she sat. "I guess that's not really an us question, is it? Team SSSNI? Penny? Do you guys think you'll be ready to do more than that by the time the dance rolls around?"
The non-time-travelers all looked at each other thoughtfully.
"Hope for the best, plan for the worst." Sun said at last. "I think we should step up our training, but yeah… we probably shouldn't be sticking our necks out quite yet. I vote we stay on backup –for the dance, at least."
"I agree with Sun, for once." Scarlet said. "Assuming everything goes to plan, we don't need to do anything but watch and wait for her to get arrested. On that note…"
"You guys were worried about one of her hench-people, right?" Neptune asked. "Uh, Emerald?"
"Emerald proved –in one version of the future, at least– that she was capable of recognizing the wrong of her actions." Weiss said, and tapped a finger against her knee. "But that was after several years of introspection, we believe. Time that we don't have."
"Cinder was the only one to slip away at the dance though, right?" Yang pointed out. "We can try to buddy-buddy with Emerald, see where that takes us. We'll make a positive impression, at the very least. Might be enough to influence her a little bit."
"Oh, fucking dibs." Nora said, her eyes shining and her grin just a little bit manic.
"Speaking of influences, I recently received the call that Whitley has been accepted as a temporary apprentice to Professor Polendina." Weiss said, giving a pleased little sniff. "It's only for his work in Atlas, but even so. With any amount of luck, Penny, your father will help him grow into a decent human being."
"And the probable future head of the SDC having a favorable impression of us doesn't hurt, either." Ren said, his voice dry. "Does he know?"
"No." Weiss answered. "And I don't intend for him to learn until he's a good deal older… and less susceptible to our father's, ah, tendencies."
"Speaking of which, I have been in communication with my father." Penny said, sitting ramrod straight from her place in their circle of chairs. "He has been working to improve both my and the Atlesian systems against outside interference, most especially against Arthur Watts. He has also initiated communications with Robyn Hill with an eye towards improving the quality of life in Mantle. I believe their outlook as allies is favorable."
"And speaking of allies…" Jaune said, rubbing his hands together and then heaving a rather large sigh. "We did tell Ozpin and the others about all of our Semblances in their current form, and I tried to help Amber, but…"
"Didn't work?" Sun asked, looking sympathetic. Jaune exhaled in frustration.
"My Aura just… drains away into her." he said, shaping vague and furious images with his hands. "It just… I push, and push, and push, but it doesn't make a difference. It still absorbs into Amber, but it doesn't seem to go anywhere, or doesn't meld right, or… or… I don't know. I drained my Aura into the red yesterday and there was barely any change."
"Professor Ozpin said that something similar happens with chronic illnesses." Blake said, and although her voice was steady, her ears still drooped a little in sadness. "The Aura gets spread too diffuse, trying to fix everything at once, and it barely makes a dent in the illness itself."
"Yeah, well." Jaune sighed and folded his hands together hopelessly. "I'm giving her a few more days or weeks, at least. If nobody kills her beforehand… again."
"So… other than that, everything seems to be progressing apace." Pyrrha said, giving a tight, wan smile. She looked around at the three (and a half, counting Penny and Neo) teams. "Are we all clear on what we want to do moving forward?"
"Me and my team are gonna train like crazy, to make sure we're ready if anything crazy happens at the dance." Sun said, bumping fists with Neptune on his other side.
"When the dance rolls around, we're going to follow Ozpin's plan to skulk around the sidelines and wait for Cinder to stick her hand in the fire." Nora said, grinning vindictively as she punched her hand into her open palm.
"We'll leave Neo and Torchwick alone to do their whole rally thing." Ruby added, giving Neo a little nod. "It's not like we'll need to mess with it, and we don't want to rock their whole traitorous boat thing even a little if we can help it."
"Try to convert Emerald to our side during the Beacon dance." Ren said. "Or at the very least, make her doubt her current situation."
"Alright!"
Ruby got to her feet, looking pleased.
"Great meeting, guys! I know we're all feeling a bit torn about Ozpin delaying things, but we're going to catch Cinder in the act, and stop the Fall, and everything will be fine! Gooooo Counter-Conspiracy Club!"
Everyone looked askance at her as she raised her hand with a beaming smile, like she was expecting a huddle.
"Counter-Conspiracy Club?" Scarlet asked. "Really?"
"I think we're more of a triple threat, eyyy." Yang said, snapping finger guns at him. A muscle spasmed in his forehead, but he did not respond.
"Crush Cinder Club?" Nora suggested, grinning.
"I liked Counter-Conspiracy Club…" Penny said timidly, looking at Ruby.
"Are we married to the idea of it being a club?" Sun asked. "I liked the whole Counter-Conspiracy Conspiracy thing. Sounds more fun."
"Guys…" Jaune groaned, massaging his forehead with both hands. "Are we seriously focused on the name right now?"
"Well, we've got to call it something…"
Amiable bickering and plans to move forward continued to brush against the distant vault of the ceiling high above, running in soft echoes down to the life support pod that held Amber.
Her time, as it had always done, continued to tick irreversibly away.