Reign of Steel

by MahinaFable

In a world threatened by Grimm of titanic scale, mankind designed enormous war machines to face them head-on: the infinitely modular Armored Cores! All his life, Jaune Arc wanted to follow in the footsteps of his father, the legendary pilot of the first Armored Core. When tragedy strikes, will he be able to live up to his family's legacy, and defend the people of Vale?

6. Trust Love

A/N: I like an update with a short note and a looooooooooong chapter.

*cue trumpet*

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"This concludes the Vale Defense Force's tactical and strategic assessment of the threat posed to the city and Kingdom of Vale by the White Fang insurgency, as led by former Atlas Armored Core pilot Adam Taurus," Director Ozpin finished reading through the report's conclusions, and looked up to the viewscreen, which was transmitting a vidcall to one of the three other people in the world that the Director could call a peer.

General Ironwood, of the Kingdom of Atlas, was a tall, powerfully-built man, with broad shoulders, a lantern jaw, black hair just starting to go grey at the temples, and piercing blue eyes. Women the world over had lamented when his marriage to Willow Schnee, the CEO of the Schnee Power Company, had been announced - and none more than Glynda Goodwitch, Ozpin's late and very much lamented deputy, who had perished at Mountain Glenn.

She had died at the hands of Ironwood's treacherous protege, who had broken a truce during a surprise Grimm attack in the ruins of that accursed city. He had taken the opportunity to plunge a plasma blade through her Core, while Taiyang, who had been her wing, had been preoccupied with fending off the Grimm. The General's great love had been slain by his greatest student, along with many other Beacon pilots who had found themselves in a horrendous three-way battle between the Grimm and the White Fang.

It had been the bleakest day in the modern history of Vale, and the Council had wanted to pin the blame solely on the Kingdom of Atlas. That may have had the immediate political effect of covering their own asses from explaining what happened to the public, but it also strained the alliance between two of the four Kingdoms, and risked inciting a foolish, expensive war that would likely see both nations weakened, possibly even overrun by Grimm.

Madness. Ozpin had done his best to quash that notion, of course, but while the Director of Beacon held a great deal of political power, and even more informal influence, he wasn't King of Vale, and couldn't simply command the Council to sit down, shut up, and stop being fools. Alas. What he could, and ultimately did do was to speak with the individual Councilors that were the most jingoistic, and stop their escalation of tensions with Atlas, through a series of backroom deals, strategic blackmail, and one or two cases of outright assassination, where Qrow Branwen exercised his craft. Ozpin had made many ethical compromises in his day, too many, but having those particular imbeciles conveniently overdose on narcotics didn't even register as a blip on his radar.

Everything he did, he did for the good of the innocent civilians of Vale.

Which is why, while the Council would disapprove, Ozpin had reopened lines of communication with General Ironwood. With Taurus and a full insurgency of Armored Cores on the loose and reactivated after licking their own wounds from Mountain Glenn, Vale needed the insight of the military officer who had trained him.

"He's seeking to draw you out, away from the city," Ironwood said, his voice soft, yet powerful in its understated stoicism. "By attacking societal logistical support, he'll be able to set the time and place of confrontations with your pilots, probably picking them off one by one in ambushes, before making an attack on the city itself."

Ozpin raised his eyebrows. "An attack on the city? His force is formidable, yes, but they simply don't have the numbers to conquer and occupy it."

The General's expression was as a mask of stone. "No, but he could wipe it out."

A pregnant silence descended upon Ozpin's office. As the capabilities of the Armored Cores had grown with each subsequent generation, so too had the concerns about the sheer damage that even a single rogue pilot could inflict, had they a mind to do so. Even accidental damage could pose a significant threat. Mountain Glenn had been the first live-fire battle between squads of Armored Cores, and while the ruined city had thankfully been abandoned, the scope of the collateral damage that such a conflict could inflict if repeated in an inhabited city had not been lost on the Kingdom's analysts.

"Two years ago, I would not have thought Adam capable of such a thing," Ironwood shook his head. "But I never taught him to break a cease-fire. Nor did I teach him to go marauding against hapless civilian miners and farmers. No, Taurus's path of destruction tells me two things. First, that he is a man who does not expect to live to see his thirties. And secondly, he does not intend to go quietly."

Ozpin pinched the bridge of his nose. "We simply don't have the resources to pursue a counterinsurgency against Adam Taurus while maintaining a steady defense against the Grimm. Qrow Branwen is on task gathering intel on her next move, and other agents have failed to apprehend or eliminate Taurus. Recovery from Mountain Glenn has been slow. We've had to re-train our veterans for combat against other Armored Cores, and many of our recruits haven't survived long enough to attain such status themselves. The situation has become so dire that I was forced to conscript a boy whose only training was the high-score on the local AC Attack arcade game."

Ironwood's eyes widened. "No…"

"Indeed. He was actually the son of Gil Arc, though he never received the private tutoring that you would expect from such a position. The old man suffered a heart attack, and sent his son out in Crocea Mors in his stead. Fortunately, the boy seems to have inherited his father's talents, and is something of a prodigy pilot - Taiyang is almost ready to sign off on him piloting live missions without his supervision, weeks ahead of schedule. But Vale cannot afford to rely on that sort of luck in its recruiting. The situation is desperate enough that I am ready, in my authority as Director charged with the defense of the city and Kingdom of Vale, to invoke the Kingdom Alliance Accords and formally request aid from the Kingdom of Atlas."

"And you shall have it," Ironwood said immediately. "But let us hold off on sending an entire contingent, at least at first."

"Oh? What do you have in mind?" Ozpin asked.

"I have at my command one of the finest young pilots of her generation, one who knows Taurus, how he thinks, as well as also having benefited from my tutelage her entire life. I will send my daughters to Vale, to operate under your command in the hunt for Adam Taurus. My eldest, Winter, will spearhead the operation, while Weiss will support her. They are both talented pilots, though obviously Weiss lacks Winter's degree of experience. Two pilots, with their powerful Armored Cores, will make a substantial difference, I should think. That they are both my daughters will, I hope, express to your Council the gravity with which I take the Taurus situation, in a way that no verbal assurances ever could."

Ozpin blinked. "I...see. Yes, that is an amenable solution - and a surprisingly astute one as well. I see that taking up the Directorship of Atlas has made you a politician as well."

Ironwood pulled a face. "Right in the soul, Oz. You didn't have to resort to name-calling." The soldier swiftly sobered, the brief moment of mirth quickly fading. "Oz. These are my daughters. My girls. I would go myself, clean up the monster I created with Adam, but no one else can coordinate the defense of Atlas. I know that there's no guarantees in this work, but...look out for them as best as you can, Ozpin. Especially Weiss."

"I will do everything I can," Ozpin promised. "You know, you haven't mentioned your son."

"Whitley is still in pilot school, and unlike your situation, Atlas is not so desperate that we need to conscript them so early. Well, that and Willow would legitimately, actually have me murdered if I sent all three of her children into battle at once. As it is, the odds are fifty-fifty that you'll soon be dealing with my successor."

"As I said before, Qrow is...away, and therefore unavailable for your wife to call upon."

Ironwood gave Ozpin a look, one that told him that that line of conversation had hit a little too close to home.

"At any rate," Oz moved quickly on, "Beacon stands ready to welcome the Schnee sisters, and to cooperate with the Kingdom of Atlas to put an end to this threat."

"So it does," sighed Ironwood. "I'll contact you again when their itinerary is sorted. Until then, Director."

"Thank you, General."

Far to the north of Vale, in the cold and snowy Kingdom of Atlas, General James Ironwood switched off his viewscreen and sank back in his chair. It needed to be done, and his reasoning was sound, but he was not looking forward to telling Willow that he was sending her little girls to battle. He ran a hand through his hair and took a drink of water before pressing a button on his desk that keyed up the intercom to his secretary. "Aiden, send for my children, will you? I have matters to discuss with them."

"Right away, sir."

The General spent the next few minutes fighting against the neverending wave of paperwork that threatened to overwhelm him just as surely as the Grimm. Authorization for requisitions, rote orders that needed his approval, nothing that actually demanded his attention.

When was the last time he'd taken Due Process out and just blasted some miserable Grimm to ashes?

He sighed deeply, putting the stack of papers to one side as he heard a knock on the door. "Come in," he answered. With Winter in the lead, his three children filed into his office, standing to attention in front of his desk and presenting a trio of sharp salutes.

Winter was the oldest, carrying herself with the cool poise of an experienced soldier, though at twenty-three, she still seemed so painfully young in her father's eyes. She bore the trademark glacial blue eyes and snowy white hair of her mother's line, save for a single lock of wavy black hair that fell loose from her bun to frame the left side of her face. Of all his children, she was the most like him, and not just in appearance. She had cheerfully abdicated all claim on inheriting the SPC from her mother in favor of her younger sister, claiming that she was a born soldier. In her defense, her spectacular piloting abilities certainly supported that claim. Even though she wasn't on duty, she still wore the full, white and blue uniform of an Atlas Specialist officer, complete with epaulets. Ever since Adam had deserted Atlas - and abandoned her - Winter's smiles were few and far between. Her criticisms of her younger siblings' techniques were harsher, more biting, less charitable, and she had withdrawn into herself, presenting a blank, stoic mask by default.

Still, James had held his daughter as she wept into his chest the night they heard what Taurus had done at Mountain Glenn. He knew more than anyone how much hurt was beneath that stoic facade.

At seventeen, Weiss was in her rookie year as an Atlas Armored Core pilot. She had taken up the mantle of the heiress of the SPC upon Winter's abdication, and took her duties very seriously, seriously enough that even General Ironwood worried about her. He still believed that someone looking to assume such a position of power and influence in the Kingdom of Atlas should be intimately familiar with the struggle of the Grimm and the nature of those who conducted it; but Weiss's workload, split between her training as an AC pilot, and the advanced schooling in economics, engineering, languages, history, and politics that she would need to succeed her mother as CEO of the SPC, was overwhelming. Weiss was brilliant, to be sure - few could match her genius, from any generation - but as her father, James was deeply concerned. Weiss had no friends. She had no hobbies, not any of which he was aware. She never had a teenage rebellious phase, and if put in a room and left to her own devices, Weiss would invariably find some incredibly taxing task in which to embark. Weiss simply did not exist outside of her work.

It was at the point where General Ironwood, who was no slouch in the field of work ethic himself, was seriously debating ordering the girl to take a month off and leave her with a metric ton of marijuana and carte blanche to cause trouble, as much for her own sanity as his. Truthfully, James felt like he had failed his middle child as her father, and while there were valid military reasons to send Weiss as backup for her older sister, truthfully, it would do the girl some good to separate her away from the looming responsibilities of the SPC and go meet some new people.

Then there was his youngest child, and only son, Whitley, who had the exact opposite problem as Weiss. He rarely took anything seriously, and was something of a troublemaker. To a certain extent, that was to be expected, seeing as how he'd two older siblings to take up the mantle of family heiresses, but he'd taken his father's consolation about how his position afforded him more freedom a bit too closely to heart. He was also possessed of a very dark and sarcastic sense of humor, which James had had to confess that he'd inherited from him. Still, running him through pilot school was having effects in getting the boy to shape up, and at fifteen, he was maturing from a brat into a man. A smartass man, but a man nonetheless. He'd also inherited his father's build, growing taller than both of his sisters and slowly starting to develop the same broad shoulders and barrel chest, which, when paired with the classic Schnee coloring, made him rather striking in appearance. His mother was despairing at the influx of young girls who had already begun eyeing up the boy, especially after Whitley had begun eyeing them right back.

His three children, the General's pride and joy. James loved them all dearly, even as he despaired at how he had failed each and every one of them in their own way.

"At ease," he told them. "I've just got off a vidcall with Director Ozpin of Beacon. It was in regards to new developments in the Adam Taurus situation." Ironwood carefully studied Winter's expression - while she did an admirable job controlling herself, her left eye still twitched involuntarily at the mention of her former lover. "Taurus and his contingent of White Fang ACs have begun raiding infrastructure sites outside of the city of Vale itself, an iron mine, in this instance. The situation at Beacon is dire - rebuilding efforts after Mountain Glenn have not gone as well as Ozpin had hoped, and they are stretched thin, perhaps dangerously so. To that end, in acknowledgement of the severity of the threat posed by a deserter from Atlas and the technology that he stole, and in accordance with the Kingdom Alliance, I am deploying you, Winter, and you as well, Weiss, on a mission to the Kingdom of Vale. Specialist Schnee, you will be operating under the direct command of the Director himself, holding rank equivalent to a Valean Lance-Captain. In the event of the death or incapacitation of Valean officers in the field, you will be authorized to assume command over subordinate pilots. Weiss, you will be operating directly under your sister's command at all times, save for the event of the death or incapacitation of Specialist Schnee, at which point, you will obey all lawful orders of Valean Lance-Captains and the Director until such time as I can be consulted. Are there any questions?"

"Why am I here?" Whitely asked.

"Well, asides from my assumption that you would have at least a passing interest in where your sisters will be for the next few months," Ironwood remarked dryly, "I also summoned you here to inform you that you will be assuming Weiss's responsibilities in shadowing and assisting your mother in her duties."

"What?!"

Both Weiss and Whitley expressed their outrage at the same time, sharing a glance at one another as they did so. Ironwood sighed.

"Weiss, how exactly would you plan to carry on with your SPC tasks while at the same time enacting a critical mission in a foreign nation?"

"I could telecommunicate," she said immediately.

"Weiss," he said sharply. The General sighed. "As your commanding officer, I'm telling you that your sister will need you at your complete focus to ensure the success of her mission. As your father, I'm telling you that you're taking on too much, and it's concerning to me. Take this opportunity to focus on just the one mission, for once. I promise that Atlas won't plummet from the sky if you do."

Weiss frowned. "But...even if we put forth the most efficient hunt for Taurus possible, that would still leave a great deal of…'free time,'" she said, tasting the phrase as though it was both foreign and distasteful to her. "That is a deeply-suboptimal use of my time."

"You could spend that time making friends," Ironwood remarked.

"I don't need friends, I need contacts, allies, resources that I can call upon in the future!"

"You're not an AI, Weiss! Hell, even the AI that Polendina developed has more of a life than you do!" Ironwood pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know that I'm proud of your capabilities, and your dedication to upholding your duties. But you were not born into this world solely to work unceasingly until you drop dead at thirty, Weiss. I would have you find some measure of joy in this life."

"I believe what Father is trying to say is that you need to work the stick out of your ass before it burrows too deep and bursts into your skull," Whitley remarked.

"And that brings me to you," Ironwood said, inclining his head towards his son. Whitley pointed to himself in a 'who, me?' gesture, one that was so reminiscent of Qrow Branwen that if Ironwood hadn't seen his own features in his son, he would have had serious questions about his wife's fidelity. "You've been skating by as your sister overworks herself. While I won't repeat the mistake that I made with Weiss - " here, he shot a look at the middle child, who had been about to interject before thinking better of the notion - "you should still shoulder some of her responsibilities. If nothing else, a little less freedom will keep you out of trouble."

Whitley made one of the great, put-upon sighs that only a teenager could make. "Very well. It shall be my contribution to helping dear sister work the stick out."

"Whitley," Ironwood warned.

"Yes, yes, I know."

"Oh, and one more thing," the General said, looking to the middle child. "Ozpin mentioned one of the names on your list of potential suitors. Jaune Arc is apparently a newly-recruited pilot at Beacon, and you could well have the opportunity to meet him."

"Woe unto the hapless bastard, I suppose," snarked Whitley.

Weiss fixed her brother with a dangerous glare. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, the poor fellow is about to be set upon by a sentient spreadsheet, what masquerades as a girl."

"Better that than to be set upon by a sentient anus, who cannot help but appear an ass."

Whitley grinned at her. "Careful, Weiss. You're coming dangerously close to manifesting a discernible personality. What will the shareholders think?"

"That's enough," Ironwood said, causing the two siblings to snap back to attention. "Weiss, don't murder your brother. Whitley, don't provoke your sister into murdering you. You know, you won't see each other again for months, you could at least pretend to behave. For your mother's sake, if not mine." He sighed. "Winter, I would like you to attend dinner tonight with the rest of the family, where we can discuss the matter as a family, not as officers. If there's no actual questions, that's all that I have for you."

"Very well," Winter said. "I won't let you down, Father."

"I know. You never have, Winter."

The General watched his children file back out of his office, leaving in just as orderly a manner as they had entered. He couldn't help but wonder if they would have turned out to be happier people, had they only been fortunate enough to have had a better father.

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Taiyang hailed his three subordinates as they set out from Beacon in their Armored Cores. "All right, this is one of those rare cases where we have sightings before the Grimm set off the long-range sensors. Scout said that it looked like a pack of Lupus in the Emerald Forest. Growth there is pretty thick, so Winchester, Arc, you probably aren't going to be able to bring those missiles to bear. Ruby, this means you're going to be in an up-close knife-fight, which is precisely why I wish you'd put more armor on your AC. Speed won't always be able to save you." Taiyang sighed. "All right, boys and girl, who has a useful tactical suggestion?"

After a moment, Arc spoke up over the radio. "We put you and Cardin up front, and as we get closer to the Grimm, you may have to make some room by shoving some trees over, while Ruby and I watch your six. What we don't want is a situation where the Lupus pull hit-and-run tactics in and out of cover. We form up, back-to-back, and ensure that the Grimm aren't able to hit any of us from behind. Assuming, of course, that we can't have Cardin use his giant grenade launcher to burn down the forest around them."

"Let's keep the wanton arson to a minimum," Taiyang remarked dryly. "Still, the rest has merit. I was planning on taking point anyway. All right, Winchester, up here next to me."

"We'll keep the delicate widdle babies safe fwum the big bad wolves," Cardin mocked.

"I, for one, had 'Hide Behind the Meathead' pegged as a strategy as soon as I got to Beacon," Jaune coolly responded over the radio.

"Settle down, boys," Taiyang cut in. "We're entering the forest." True enough, the four Armored Cores stood just outside the thick growth of the Emerald Forest. A wide trail bore through the forest, one made and maintained by loggers, who harvested the trees for Vale's lucrative timber industry. With both the Emerald Forest and the forest of Forever Fall bordering its city, lumber was the single greatest commodity for export for the Kingdom, especially trading with Vacuo and Atlas, where it was rare. Vale developed sophisticated foresting techniques to ensure responsible and sustainable harvesting of their trees, and the Kingdom took such things very seriously. While the Grimm needed to be dealt with, both to secure the city and to make it safe for the lumberjacks to operate - some degree of damage to the trees was inevitable - wanton arson would not be tolerated.

"Switch your radar to Search Mode to boost Grimm detection capabilities," Ruby told Jaune over the radio. "The Grimm have a certain...icktitude to them, which the sensors in our head pieces can detect. The larger search radius in Search Mode will help find them, but the pings take longer to return, making them less useful when in a fight."

"Got it," Jaune confirmed. After a moment, he spoke up again. "Good news - I adjusted the sensors, and I didn't even fire any missiles into your dad's back."

"Much appreciated," Taiyang remarked.

The squad fell silent as they proceeded further down the logging trail. After a few minutes of wordless trudging down the way, the four Armored Cores came to a halt at a logging camp, abandoned upon the warning of the scout. "I've got a ping," Ruby spoke up. "Faint, to the northwest, at the very edge of my range."

"Hmm…" Taiyang surveyed the logging camp. "This is as good a spot as we're going to find for fighting them. We'll hold here."

"We're going to wreck a lot of this equipment," Jaune noted.

"Probably. And the companies that make them will get to sell more to the companies that buy them. Basic Oobleckian economics - smash the windows to keep the glassmakers in business," he chuckled. The Captain's face fell as he realized that none of his three young subordinates knew what he was talking about. "You know, part of your benefits package as Armored Core pilots include all-expenses paid higher education. Maybe take advantage of that? If nothing else, it'll help you get my references, you brats."

"But Dad, I do take courses!"

"Have you ever taken anything that did not pertain, in any way, to building Armored Cores?"

The girl was silent.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

"At any rate, how do we draw the Grimm to our location?" Jaune asked. "I don't like the idea of sending one of us out to draw them in as bait, not in this terrain."

"Well, this is where having an experienced instructor comes in handy. So, listen up, kids. Something that isn't widely known outside of us professional Grimm fighters is that the Grimm are actually attracted to negative emotions. We don't know why, we don't know how they sense them, just that they do. This has implications for large scale morale management for city defense, but the important thing for today is that focusing on negative emotions in an intense, sharp burst can bring the Grimm to us." Taiyang set his Armored Core's arms to hoist his twin heavy-shell bazookas in the direction of the northwest. "Now, it's important to keep focus," he lectured. "Don't fly off the handle. The mental discipline is critical to doing the job well. Now, when I say so, I need you to think of something that makes you angry, sad, or upset. This will -"

"Incoming," Ruby interjected. "They're on the way, fast!"

Taiyang was baffled. He hadn't even begun to think of his ex wife at all yet, and already the Grimm were converging on their location. "Are you kids okay?" he asked. There was no time for a follow-up, however, as Taiyang started picking up a great deal of red pips as the Grimm entered his sensor range. "Remember the plan," he said, causing Jaune and Ruby to maneuver their Armored Cores to stand back-to-back with his and Cardin's machines. Their formation protected their flanks, while providing overlapping fields of fire.

"Furballs incoming!" called Cardin.

Taiyang spotted the first of the Lupus Grimm, loping towards them in their awkward, hunching gait. The Grimm stood like enormous, bipedal wolves, their forelimbs ending in large hands with huge, long black claws. "Pick your targets, check your fire, and fire for effect," Taiyang ordered. He sighted one of the Grimm, keeping patient until it had cleared the tree line. When he was certain of a hit, he fired, his large-bore bazooka sending a heavy shell slamming into the chest of his targeted Lupus. Its sternum collapsed on impact, and then the detonation of the shell burst its chest wide open, sending the oily black substance that filled the Grimm's form spraying across the forest.

"Scratch one furball," Taiyang reported calmly.

Two of the wolven Grimm shared a look, then broke to either side of Taiyang's AC, having apparently decided that they wanted no part of its weapons. The one trying to maneuver around the Lance-Captain's left found itself swiftly perforated from The Executioner's heavy gatling rifle, while a precision shot to a knee from Ruby's sniper rifle crippled the one that had tried to move around his right. Both wounded Grimm staggered in front of Crocea Mors.

With his new and improved Fire Control System, Jaune was able to target multiple enemies at a time. Furthermore, it also managed his weapons systems with such efficiency that he was able to deploy two different weapons at a time, an advantage that he'd never known he'd so badly needed until he'd received it. As such, while his new back mounted chain gun unfolded and swiftly perforated the limping Grimm that Ruby had crippled, his new, more powerful rifle blasted the top half of the other wounded wolf's skull clean off in a single, cracking shot. With the new fiber optics that Ruby had installed, Crocea Mors' gun hand had tracked the Grimm with such buttery smoothness that Jaune couldn't believe it. The controls were smooth and responsive, like a dream.

Jaune blinked. Two Grimm, dead, in just as many seconds, and he hadn't needed to ignite his plasma blade to take out either of them. His machine still wasn't on par, necessarily, with his comrades, but the gap was suddenly a lot smaller than it had been. As pleased as he was by the performance, his happiness was overshadowed by a growing anger. None of his new upgrades were cutting edge, and the newest part, his FCS, was over a decade old itself. His father had had ample opportunity to give Crocea Mors substantial upgrades over its long period of active duty, so why hadn't he done anything with it? And if he hadn't used any of the payouts from his missions to upgrade his AC, then what had he been doing with the money? Sure, eight kids was a hell of a lot of mouths to feed, but while he and his sisters - most of them, anyway, he reminded himself with a grimace - had never wanted for anything, they hadn't exactly been raised in extravagance either, and the sort of money that even he, as a rookie AC pilot, was actually pretty good, even with his expenses in retrofitting his Core. How much more would his father have made, with his proven record of combat excellence, over five decades?

Then again, given what he'd learned about what his father had really been up to, at least some of the time, was he sure that he wanted to know what he had done with that money?

A Grimm was coming straight at him. He dropped it with a trio of shots to center-mass. Four shots down, six to go before he needed to reload.

It's not like any of that money had been going to Pyrrha or her mother. The nerve of that man, telling Pyrrha to her face that he'd ordered her mother to have her aborted. Yeah, that sort of complicated crap happened all the time, but the least he could have done was made some effort to spare her her feelings. Instead, his father - their father - had denied it all the way up until Jaune had told him that other people at Beacon knew, and after that, he'd gone straight to damage control.

One of the wolves dashed into his field of view from his left. Jaune ignited his plasma blade and punched out with his AC's left arm, stabbing deeply into the Grimm's side. The creature's own momentum carried the searing golden flame through the rest of its torso before erupting from its back, dropping the Grimm to die from its hideous wound.

Inside Crocea Mors, Jaune's mood grew ever blacker as he continued pondering his situation. Gods, everything he thought he knew about his family and his place in it had been completely upended. 'An Arc never goes back on his word.' What a sick joke. He felt like a fool, having been duped into believing in that, believing in him for so long. And the worst part? If his father had had his way, he never would have learned any differently. It was only a fluke accident, one perfectly-timed, that had landed him in the cockpit of Crocea Mors. Without that, he would have been in the dark his entire life. If Pyrrha had worked up the nerve to approach her father, he would have shut her down and driven her off, and he would have never known his half-sister, the sibling he never knew he had.

Then another thought struck him, one that filled him with equal parts dread and fury.

How did he know that Pyrrha was the only half-sibling that he had running around out there?

"Arc, they're coming in hot on you!" he heard Taiyang warn over the radio.

"I've got it," Jaune growled through gritted teeth.

A great wolf staggered towards him, reeling from a hit to its side from Ruby's rifle. It lashed out with its oversized claws, latching on to Crocea Mors in an attempt to keep itself from falling. Jaune ignited his plasma blade once more and stabbed forwards again. It burned deeply into the Grimm's chest, the left arm of Crocea Mors plunging in after it. The wolf howled in agony before a withering point-blank salvo of bullets from the new chain gun ripped into it like a chainsaw. The dying Lupus fell away, collapsing flat onto its back, its oily black essence seeping into the forest floor from its innumerable wounds. Crocea Mors staggered as a Lupus crashed into him from the right.

"Gods damn it, Cardin!"

"I'm a little busy, Arc!"

Jaune worked the controls, attempting to shake the Grimm off of his AC, even as the great shriek of its claws digging into the steel armor plating of his arm rent the air. The Armored Core's shaking slung the Grimm over directly in front of it, the greasy black fur filling the entirety of the central viewscreen. Thinking quickly, Jaune triggered the six laser missile interceptors mounted onto the Armored Core's shoulders. Without missile heat signatures to track, they fired in two vertical columns of three, covering the centerline of the AC. While the lasers weren't especially powerful, having not been designed as actual combat weapons, the half-dozen tightly-focused beams of coherent light still burned through the fur and scorched six small burns onto the Grimm's hide.

The creature roared, releasing Crocea Mors and staggering backwards. Its advance in a rearward direction was assisted by the sudden impact of a heavy shell to its chest, which knocked it ass-end over teakettle before exploding, instantly slaying the Grimm. Jaune readied himself for his next opponent, only to find that none stood left to oppose him. To his right, Cardin was attempting to shake off a Lupus that had latched on to his left arm, the heavier AC having a difficult time bringing its gatling rifle to bear on it. A crimson flash severed the beast's arms from its body as Crescent Rose went to its Lancemate's aid, and a second neatly bifurcated the Grimm.

After a long moment, with no Grimm either in sight or registering on their sensors, the four pilots relaxed.

"Thanks for the assist, Captain," Jaune said.

"No problem. Mind telling us why you were drawing in the Grimm like you'd slathered your AC in barbeque sauce?"

"One of Ruby's new modifications," Jaune immediately snarked. "Tastes just like mom used to make. Grimm go nuts for it."

"The real hard part was building the reservoirs for the sauce," added Ruby.

There was a pause.

"See, I know that you're being a pair of little smartasses, but the both of you are just weird enough that I can't dismiss the possibility of you actually doing that. This distresses me," lamented Taiyang.

"Sorry, Captain," said Jaune. "I just...I'm having some difficulties right now. Because of my dad."

"What, did he not make it after all?" Cardin interrupted.

"No, he's fine, it's just...complicated. You might hear more of it later, but I'm not the only one who has a say in finding out who knows what."

Cardin just grunted in response.

"Do you want to talk about it sometime? When we're off duty?" Ruby asked.

Jaune hesitated as he thought about it. "Sure. You know, you have a way of making everything make sense."

"Well, I'm glad you're making friends," said Taiyang. "I was worried -"

"We should talk about it over dinner!" Ruby blurted out before she could stop herself. That stopped her father cold.

"Wait, what?"

"Okay, sounds good," Jaune casually replied. "We can make plans after we get done here."

"Okay!" Ruby half-squeaked, half-shouted, before cutting her radio off so she could squee without deafening her team.

"What just happened?" Taiyang asked.

"I think Ruby just asked Arc on a date, and he said sure," Cardin dutifully replied.

"I know that, I just - " the Lance-Captain sighed. When in doubt, focus on the mission, and panic over your baby girl asking a boy out on a date later. "Ruby, get me one last long range scan, okay?"

"Okay!" she chirped happily. After a moment, she spoke up again. "Looks like we're all clear!"

"Right. Let's clear on out of here."

They filed along the logging trail once more, making their way back to Beacon. All the while, Taiyang wondered how his little girl had gone and grown up when he wasn't looking.

[/]

It wasn't often that Director Ozpin had a good reason to leave Beacon's grounds entirely during a normal workday, and he'd resolved to make the best of it. After all, he spent far too much time looking down over the city from his lofty position, not actually in it and amidst the people for whom he'd sacrificed so much. So instead of having a private driver take him to his meeting with Summer Rose, he'd caught the public trolley, just enjoying the great press of humanity around him.

He smiled warmly at a Faunus infant, swaddled in his mother's arms, who had fuzzy little nodules on his head that would one day grow into antlers. The child gurgled, staring at him with huge, dark brown eyes, and the Director of Beacon made a silly face for his amusement. His efforts were rewarded with a great belly laugh, and Ozpin carefully schooled his face back into a perfectly neutral expression while the mother spoke happily to her child.

There wasn't a day that went by when his heart didn't ache for the loss of his own little girls. But while his own family had been destroyed long ago, his efforts meant that others, like that infant and his mother, could live in peace and prosperity. It was that knowledge that kept him going every day, and what enabled him to sleep at night.

All told, Ozpin was in a pretty good mood when he stepped off the trolley and made his way to the public park in which Summer had asked to meet, finding a comfortable park bench to sit and wait. He'd just popped the lid on his thermos to enjoy a sip of his favorite hot chocolate when he saw Summer Rose headed his way, with Pyrrha Nikos in tow. He took a quick sip anyway, then replaced the lid as he stood to greet the two pilots.

"Ah, Miss Rose, Miss Nikos. What can I do for you?"

"Thank you for meeting with us, Director," Summer said, clearly taking the lead between the two women. "I'm afraid that Pyrrha and I both have some...troubling developments to report, which...well, you're going to need to know about this."

"Very well. Would you care to sit?"

The Director was in a considerably worse mood upon returning to Beacon than he was upon his departure. He kept his face carefully neutral, so as to prevent the broiling cauldron of his emotions from alerting all and sundry that something was seriously amiss. Upon reaching his office, he made a beeline for his drinks cabinet. Bypassing the rich and slightly bitter chocolate that was his usual drink of choice, he retrieved a bottle of very strong bourbon - a gift from Qrow Branwen - and broke the red wax seal. He'd just finished pouring a shot when the intercom on his desk chimed.

"Sir, Gil Arc is here to see you," his secretary informed him.

Ozpin grimaced before shooting the whiskey straight. "One moment," he said, screwing the whiskey bottle back up and putting away both it and the glass. He took a moment to gaze out of his window at the city of Vale, his nostrils flaring and fist clenched as he forced himself to remember that his responsibilities prevented him from doing anything...rash. When he turned back to his desk, his face was once more set in his careful, blank mask.

He sat heavily in his chair and keyed the intercom. "Send him in," he told his secretary.

A moment later, the man of the hour arrived, the tall old man with his white hair and moustache, wearing slacks, a yellow vest, and white shirt. Gil had a warm smile on his face. "Ah, Ozpin! It's been too long."

Not long enough. Ozpin inclined his head politely. "Mister Arc. What can I do for you?"

"Well, I'd been hoping to see my boy, but I'm told he's out on a sortie. I suppose I'll have to wait for him to get back. In the meantime, I thought that, since I'm no longer healthy enough for the Watch, I'd offer my services as an instructor for AC pilots. Who better, hmm?"

Ozpin gazed at him for a moment. "No. I don't believe that you would be suited for a position in Beacon. Not at this time, nor any other."

Gil physically recoiled. "What?"

"That was a 'no,' Mister Arc."

The old man's mouth worked for a moment. "I've been training AC pilots since the damn things were first made! I trained entire generations of pilots! I trained you! Who are you going to turn to, Xiao Long? He got Glynda killed!"

"With what I've learned about your...recreational activities, Mister Arc, I'd better not ever have cause to hear that name come from your mouth ever again," Ozpin warned, his voice colder than the Atlas winds. "And if you think that I'm ever putting you in a position of authority over young women again, then you must have gone truly senile."

Ozpin had to admit that he took more satisfaction than he should have from the look of dread on Arc's face. "I note that, while you asked after young Jaune, you were less interested in the whereabouts of your daughter, Mister Arc. Oh yes, I know all about Pyrrha's mysterious paternity. Just as I know about the 'liberties' that you took with Summer Rose twenty years ago. And that's why I believe that you have less-than honest intentions with the offer you made here today. If you were truly interested in cultivating future generations of pilots, you would have retired from the Watch and took up a full-time instructor position years ago. So let us dispense with the pretense. What is it that you want?"

"I want Pyrrha Nikos gone, away from Vale and away from my family. Send her to Ironwood, send her to Lionheart, just anywhere but here."

"No."

"Why?"

Ozpin frowned. "Because we need every pilot that we can get, and your daughter is the strongest young pilot we have, as gifted as your son but with more experience behind her."

"I'm sure Jaune can make up the difference."

"He shouldn't have to."

Gil crossed his arms. "Have you considered what this means for the defense of Vale, if word gets out?"

"Do you think I think of anything else but for the defense of Vale?" Ozpin shook his head. "So, that's what you were after, with the teaching position. All press interactions with Beacon staff are to be monitored by the Director for reasons of national security. You want protection from your little secrets getting out."

"This will be better for everyone if it just...goes away," said Gil. "You know that. More than anyone else, you understand what it's like to make the hard choices that no one else can."

Ozpin glared at the man across from him. "Everything that I do, I do for the sake of the people of Vale. I've done harsh things, cruel things, things that no one should ever have to admit to, but those things I did, I did for the sake of the innocent people of the Kingdoms. I have not sullied my hands so for something so petty as an old man's fear of facing the consequences of his actions!"

"You can't build a national mythology off of my actions and then expect that foundation to hold up to such scrutiny!"

"The thing about myth and history, Mister Arc, is that they are nowhere near so immutable as you might think." Ozpin shook his head. "I'll keep this from the press - for now. Make no mistake, this is only for the sake of Vale, not for you. But I will not transfer Pyrrha Nikos to another Kingdom, nor will I prohibit her from making contact with the rest of her family."

"But -"

"Furthermore," Ozpin continued, steamrolling over the retired pilot's objection, "I will authorize Summer Rose's request to conduct a thorough investigation of your history of sexual predation, both here and abroad. Her report will be kept, secure within Beacon, until such time as a successor of mine judges it safe to release to the public."

"You can't expect -"

"What I expect from you, Mister Arc," Ozpin interrupted again, his voice growing louder, "is for you to retire. Go away. Keep quiet, and say the right things for the propaganda as I turn your son into the hero we once thought you were."

"I-"

Ozpin's fraying temper finally snapped. "What you don't seem to understand, Mister Arc, is the extent of my absolute fury!" hissed the Director as he rose from his seat. "Just as I am responsible for the care of the people of Vale, so too am I responsible for the care of the brave pilots of Beacon, and in that, I have failed! I failed because of you! I failed because I never once considered that you would abuse your authority and influence to prey on your own students! So you will kindly fuck off and do as you're told, before I remember that it's easier to manage the image of a dead hero than a live problem!"

A pregnant silence fell over the Director's office following his tirade. "How did it start?" Ozpin asked, his voice barely above a whisper, the Director slowly lowering himself back into his seat. He shook his head. "My predecessor knew that you liked to flirt around when you were a young man, and there were rumors involving Maria Calvera in his...personnel dossiers, but...everyone had thought you'd settled down with Isabelle Geles. How did it turn to predation?"

Gil's shoulders slumped at the mention of the late Maria Calvera. "Maria was...magnificent. But after our time together, we went our separate ways. Her to her destiny, and me to mine." He sighed. "Isabelle tried. Gods and Maidens know she tried. But no one ever filled the void that Maria left behind. It was...such a small thing, I had thought. A bit of release, a brief time to put the world aside. Surely I deserve that much, don't I? After all that I've done?"

"You were never entitled to leverage your position to take advantage of your students," Ozpin said."If you're asking for absolution, then that's a boon beyond my power to grant. For that, you'll need to go to the wife you betrayed, the children you've left hurting in your wake, and most of all, to the women you abused."

"Whatever else, I have only ever wanted the best for my children."

"Save one, it would seem," pressed Ozpin, relentless.

Gil had no response. After a moment, he let out a melancholy, defeated sigh. "So, this is how a career spanning five decades ends, is it? Quietly shoved under the rug in disgrace."

"That is your doing, not mine. I trust you remember the way out? I should inform you that you will not be welcome on Beacon grounds again, Mister Arc."

The retired pilot shook his head as he turned to leave.

"Oh, and thank you for your service," Ozpin threw in dismissively, already turning his attention to more important matters as the disgraced Hero of Vale slunk out in shame.

What a waste.

Ozpin sighed deeply. He, more than any other man in this world, knew that, one way or another, the truth would always find its way to light. Perhaps not immediately, or in a decade, a lifetime, or a succession of lifetimes, but it would. And he had more truths than anyone else to come to light. All that he could do was hope that his Great Work would be complete before that day, so that, at long last, the Second Race of Humanity could live freely.

Gil Arc's sins would come to account. Not today, definitely not within the man's own lifetime, but it would. Ozpin would have to shift focus away from him and on to his son...and a few backups in case Jaune took after his father in that sense as well. It wasn't as if he wouldn't have the time to do so.

After all, for an ageless wizard, cursed by the gods to incarnate over and over again, history was just another tool in his arsenal.

He - or at least, his consciousness - was one of only two remnants of the First Race of Humanity, who had been named Ozma in his first life. The other was his former wife, Salem, who had challenged the gods themselves after his first death - and had been cursed to an existence undying. With her transformation in the Pool of Darkness, she had become the Queen of the Grimm - and he himself had been sent back from beyond, cursed to incarnate over and over again until he had stopped her.

So many sins to be uncovered.

The First Race of Humanity had been blessed with magical abilities. With great effort and specialized training, members of the Second Race could manifest a semblance of that power, a pale imitation...but against the greater Grimm that Salem had created, that power could do precious little, and the techniques to manifest those powers were forgotten, save for Ozpin himself and the special agents that he recruited and trained.

All because Ozma had had to incarnate into a host who was a little too young and brash for the circumstances in which he had found himself. The merger hadn't been complete, and in the infinite arrogance of youth, the lad had taunted Salem, daring her to do better with the Grimm she created. Well, she'd certainly done that, and as a result, the human race had lived on the run from her colossal abominations for centuries. But what the Second Race lacked in magical power compared to their predecessors, they'd more than made up for with their creativity and ingenuity.

Of course, he had no idea from where the Faunus had originated. He'd toyed with the idea of categorizing them as the Third Race of Humanity, wondering if perhaps they were the result of other gods than the Brother Gods of Light and Darkness trying their hand at creation. Still, the Second Race, and their Faunus cousins, never failed to impress him with the solutions they devised to problems that he and his people would have faced by means of gathering magical power. The Armored Cores, and the generators that made them possible, were the pinnacle of that necessity-driven innovation. Whereas his people had shunned The Hidden Fire as a curse, these young races had studied it, and managed to harness its power to work wonders of their own. The remnant of magic within them may have been weak, but Oz would never describe The Second Race of Humanity, nor the Faunus, as feeble.

Still, even as they impressed him, they managed to disappoint. He remembered one of his predecessors, Director Osmund, observing Gil Arc as a much younger man. Gil was a dashing young ace pilot, with the then cutting-edge Crocea Mors, and, well, he'd never lacked for female company. Ozpin had figured that to be the typical foibles of a young man before he'd settled down into a happy marriage. It had never occurred to either Osmund nor Ozpin that Arc would have gone to the lengths that he did.

Just one more failure, atop of so many others.

[/]

General James Ironwood, military leader of the Kingdom of Atlas and undisputed most powerful single man in the Kingdom, straightened his collar nervously as he entered his wife's office. Willow Schnee was a tiny woman, but with heavy curves that had been enhanced by having carried and given birth to their three children. Like her children, she had the Schnee pale blue eyes and white hair, which she wore in a thick tail that hung over her right shoulder. Willow was sitting at her desk, typing a missive at her console and peering at her holo-screen through her eyeglasses.

James Ironwood respected his wife. He honored his wife, and the vows that he made to her. He appreciated her talents, and, as for her beauty, well, getting her with three children had been no great hardship, to say the least. But try as he might, and he had tried so very hard, he had never been able to ignite a great fire of passionate love for his wife. In a way, though, an odd, strange way, his honesty about his inability to love Willow the way that he should, the way she deserved, had served their marriage well.

She never asked him about Glynda Goodwitch. He never asked her about Qrow Branwen.

It wasn't a love match, though gods, poor Willow tried so very hard to coax him to fall in love with her. But they understood where they stood with one another. The union of the richest woman in Atlas and a famous war hero from the streets of Mantle had served to keep the peace in the Kingdom, as the people of Mantle could rest easy knowing that their hometown hero had such sway with the most powerful company in Atlas. Indeed, James had been a passionate and tireless advocate of the working-class people who lived far below the now-floating city of Atlas, and had called out many of the elite and powerful in the Kingdom for their short-sighted and harmful policies, to their faces no less. Just as they were partners in keeping the Kingdom together, Willow and James were partners in raising their children, which they both agreed to be their highest priority. It wasn't what either had dreamt of in their youth, but their respectful, amiable partnership kept them...content. For the most part.

Willow finished her work, sighing as she took off her glasses to clean them with a cloth. "Hello, James," she greeted her husband. "Here to fetch me for dinner, hmm?"

"Well, not quite yet," he said, taking a seat across from her desk. "I'm afraid I have news for you about our daughters." He swallowed, then opted to bite the bullet and get the painful work over with. "I'm deploying Winter and Weiss to Vale. Adam Taurus has made his move, and Ozpin needs help."

Willow's face fell. "James…"

"I know," he said, holding his hands up in supplication. "Besides the political and military rationale, sending Winter after Adam is...well, it will give her closure. Let her move on by putting him down herself. You know how much it hurt her."

She sighed. Shortly before Adam's desertion, Winter had confided to her that she was expecting Adam to propose to her. Willow had been elated, of course, and had already begun preparations for the first of her children's weddings, only for those hopes to be dashed with his betrayal. Winter had never been the same since.

"James...I'm all in favor of ripping that man apart for what he did to our little girl...I just…" She shook her head. "Are you sure that her being the one to do it is truly what she needs?"

"I am. Trust me on this, Willow. Of all our children, she's the most like me, and I know that if I could go out there and handle it myself, I would."

Willow smiled sadly. "Our little soldier. Always ready for a fight. But then, why Weiss?"

"Asides from backing up her sister, and further impressing on the Valeans how seriously we're taking the situation? Weiss...I think she needs some time away from the SPC. Just for a break," he said quickly, seeing how she was ready to object. "But honestly, Willow, the girl has no friends. No hobbies. It scares me, and I think that getting her somewhere new and exposing her to new people will be good for her."

"Maybe you're right." Willow then narrowed those ice blue eyes at her husband. "Still, I don't like that you made that decision unilaterally. They may be Armored Core pilots, but they're still our little girls, and you are not the General of this marriage, James Ironwood."

He shifted uncomfortably under her glare, tugging at his collar. "Erm. Well. Our daughters they may be, but they aren't little girls any longer, Willow." He paused for a moment to consider. "Well, Weiss is still quite short."

"I would think that you, of all people, would not underestimate the fell and terrible power of a short woman," Willow remarked, shooting him a smile that was all teeth. "Still, I see your point. I certainly wouldn't wish for you to interfere overmuch in our children's involvement in my company. I trust Whitley will be assuming Weiss's duties in that regard during her absence?"

"You would be correct."

"Fair enough. The boy has a good head on his shoulders, when he cares to use it." Willow rose and walked around her desk. "I suppose I can forestall my righteous wrath for the time being. For the children's sake, of course."

James stood, a wry smile on his face. "A stay of execution then?"

She sniffed. "Good behavior might earn you a pardon, but you'd have to be something quite spectacular, General."

"Well, I aim to please." He looked down as she slid her arm around his with the ease of long familiarity. "Arm and arm?"

"And tusk-to-tusk." She looked up at her husband, her expression unreadable for a moment. "You're still a marvel of a man," she admitted, averting her gaze. Every once in a while, there was a moment, where she asked without asking if he could love her yet, love her the way he had loved Glynda Goodwitch. And each time, she couldn't bear to see the look in his eyes as he realized, once again, that he could not.

"And you're my lady."

Together, they went to greet their children.

[/]

Taiyang Xiao Long had many fine qualities to recommend him. He was a loving husband and doting father. He was an ace Armored Core pilot, a veteran captain, and a gifted instructor. He was charming and personable, and most people who met him came away with a positive impression. But, like all men, he had his flaws. He had fallen apart when his first wife, Raven Branwen, had abandoned him and their infant daughter, and without the support of her brother Qrow and especially Summer, he didn't know what he would have done. But more pressing in terms of his personal flaws were his combined impulsiveness and temper.

He suspected that Summer hadn't told him the entire truth about what had happened between herself and Gil Arc twenty years prior. He could see it in her eyes. Taiyang was blonde, tanned, and boyishly handsome, but his movie-star good looks didn't make him stupid. Still, he couldn't blame her, not really. He'd given her plenty of evidence over the years that his first reaction to such a thing would be violence onto the man he blamed for it, something he'd most recently demonstrated when he'd punched out Director Ozpin for recruiting Ruby.

Summer had understood that impulse, of course, but she'd also chastised him, telling him that he was damn lucky that his temper hadn't landed him in a jail cell. Summer told him that their daughters needed him free, and able to provide the support and guidance that they needed, far more than they needed the brief catharsis of decking Ozpin in the chin. That was the reasoning that kept him silent about Summer, Gil Arc, and the truth that he knew she was keeping from him. If she hadn't trusted him with it, then it was only because he had proven that he couldn't be trusted not to act rashly with it. It was a sobering realization, that he'd failed his wife, and so he had kept his temper under control, resolving to let her come to him when she was ready, and that being the support for his wife was far more important than hunting the old man down, tearing his head off, and shitting down his neck.

The realization of how his temper had affected his marriage had also caused him to keep a cooler head when his youngest daughter had straight-up asked a boy out to dinner. Tai's first impulse had been to bite the boy's head off and order him to stay away from his daughter, but that wouldn't have been fair to either of them. Ruby, after all, had made the first move, and while Taiyang might have wished that she hadn't done so while on a mission - something he'd make sure to discuss with her later - he was glad to see her start to socialize like other kids her age. Ruby had had a tough time growing up. She just wasn't like other children, and they struggled to understand the small, strange girl going on about science concepts far more advanced than what they were studying at that age.

He still remembered when he'd been called to Ruby's second-grade class to come pick her up. She'd been frustrated to tears when the teacher had been talking about waves, and when she asked the class about different kind of waves, Ruby had attempted to explain a child's understanding of particle wave functions. Of course, none of the other children, or the teacher for that matter, had understood what she had been trying to communicate. Neither had Taiyang, but Summer had recognized the term from an advanced physics textbook that she'd left open on the family's kitchen table. It wasn't a perfect understanding of the concept, but the fact that at that age, Ruby had been able to glean that sort of information, unassisted, from a textbook was shocking. That was when it had truly set in that Ruby wasn't just smart - she was a literal genius. As she grew up, she swiftly dominated every science and math course that the schools could throw at her, oftentimes correcting her teachers. She'd spent most of her free time in Beacon's AC hangar, learning all she could from the mechanics, engineers and technicians, and even though she was only fifteen, her unique, almost alien Armored Core stood as a testament to her mastery of both theoretical and applied sciences.

Taiyang was always proud of Ruby, her gifts, and how she applied them, but the girl saw the world in an entirely different way than other people. It made it hard for her to relate to them, or for others to relate to her, even as it was obvious that Ruby cared deeply for the people around her and wanted to be a part of the group. So in a way, while he wasn't happy that she was getting a little cozy with the Arc boy, it was at least something that he could wrap his mind around. It was something normal, something that Ruby needed to grow as a person, and Taiyang didn't want to stifle that by being 'big, bad, Lance-Captain Dad' and scaring the boy off. If he did that, he didn't know that Ruby would work up the nerve to try again.

So, he hung back to watch her chatter happily with the boy on the hangar floor, as Cardin slapped Arc's shoulder and lumbered off. A light flush colored Ruby's cheeks and she nervously toyed with her hair as they spoke. She looked happy enough, excited and nervous, and generally like a teenage girl looking forward to her first date. Taiyang leaned against a wall, arms crossed over his chest, as he waited for the teens' conversation to wrap up. Finally, he pushed off the wall and made his way to the pair. "All right, Ruby, Jaune, I'm going to need to speak with you in my office," he said. "I'm not going to beat him up, Rubes," he added, holding up a hand to forestall the worried interjection that Ruby was about to make. "I just need to talk to you both, get some things clear, okay?"

"Sure thing, Captain," Arc nodded, then followed Tai, along with Ruby, to the man's office. Tai sat heavily in his chair behind his desk.

"All right, so, this is one of those damned awkward moments in my life," Taiyang began. "I guess I should start with the most fundamental ground rule. Some Lance-Captains outright prohibit fraternization between pilots in a Lance. Given how I met my own wife, I'd be something of a hypocrite if I followed suit," he chuckled. "Still, the important thing is that whatever goes on between the two of you, it can't affect what goes on in the cockpit of your Armored Cores. I get that dumb teenage bullshit is going to go down, but I'm telling you both right now that if you get into some fight or something, and it affects unit cohesion, I will separate you. And since Ruby's fifteen and under my direct supervision until her mother and I agree otherwise, that means that you'd be transferred to another Lance, Jaune."

Jaune nodded. "I understand, sir."

"Good. I'm putting a lot of trust in the both of you to handle this like mature young adults. Don't make me regret it." He sighed. "That brings me to a second point; Ruby is fifteen, and I need to know where you're taking her. Have the two of you decided where you're going?"

They shared a look, Ruby indicating Jaune to talk. "Well, there's a diner that I like to go to sometimes. Nothing fancy, just your typical burgers, fries, milkshakes, normal Valean comfort food. I figured we'd have a low-key dinner, and depending on how things go, maybe check out a retro dance hall that opened up nearby. The next night we both have off is two days from now, which is three days before the week that I gave my father to come clean to our family is up, so we're going to go then."

At the mention of dancing, Tai raised an eyebrow at his youngest. She was talented in a great many things, but dancing was not amongst them.

She flushed at the unasked question. "Well, just because I've never been good at it, that doesn't mean I can't learn!"

Taiyang laughed, holding up his hand. "Okay, okay. Right. Well Ruby, I want you either back here at Beacon or at your mother's apartment no later than ten o'clock, understood?"

"Okay!"

"So, you kids have fun."

Ruby burst into a broad smile at the realization that her father really wasn't going to give Jaune the fifth-degree, only doing normal, responsible parent things and not being weird about it. "Thanks, Dad!" she chirped. "We will!"

"Sir," Jaune nodded, just before Ruby grabbed his hand and bodily yoinked him out of her father's office.

Taiyang could only shake his head at his irrepressible daughter. In retrospect, he probably should be more worried about her doing something foolish than him.

[/]

Summer Rose sat down at her small kitchen table. After their meeting with Director Ozpin, she and Pyrrha had met up with Yang and picked up some Mistrali takeout for lunch. Obviously, they didn't know if Ruby would be finished with her mission in time to join them, but they picked up some extra just in case. While the younger girls dug into the food with youthful enthusiasm, Summer picked at her noodles, her mind occupied.

Her terms to Ozpin had been simple. The first condition was the prevention of Gil Arc from resuming any position of authority in Beacon, ever again. The second was the implementation of explicit rules preventing fraternization between officers and their subordinates, something that Summer had argued should have been in place from the very beginning, due to the inherently unequal power dynamics of rank. Third was the establishment of an internal review board, to which subordinates could anonymously tip off the Director and their agents to investigate alleged wrongdoing. And finally, Summer wanted to conduct an in-depth investigation of Gil Arc's activities over his decades at Beacon, and compile a report of her findings. Ozpin had agreed to all of these terms, should she and Pyrrha agree to one of his own: to keep from making the scandal public knowledge.

Pyrrha had protested, but Summer understood Ozpin's reasoning immediately. Managing the morale of the civilian population was a tricky endeavor, one with razor-thin margins for error. The same machines that enabled Armored Core pilots to go toe-to-toe with the Grimm and emerge victorious could also wreak untold havoc, should one of those pilots have a mind to do so. Vale simply needed the Armored Cores and their pilots, but they also needed the population to look at massive, highly-advanced war machines without fear, as their anxieties could, in fact, bring the Grimm down upon them worse than before.

The solution had been aggressive propagandizing of Armored Core pilots, and especially the first of them, Gil Arc. The pilots were mere men and women - talented, driven men and women, to be sure, but still possessed of the frailties and faults of anyone else - but that reality needed to give way to a belief that those pilots were chosen for more than just their ability to kill Grimm. The population needed to believe that the pilots of Beacon weren't just effective, but that it was safe to entrust to them the awesome destructive powers of the Armored Cores.

But if even someone like Gil Arc - who, propaganda aside, genuinely had made incredible efforts in establishing the safety and prosperity of Vale over his long career - could abuse his power and authority for something so base, so petty as fleeting physical pleasure derived from the bodies of his subordinates, then what else could other, lesser figures be capable of? That was a question that the Director desperately did not want the people of Vale to ask. The simple fact of the situation was that, whether he had meant to do so or not, Gil Arc - with no small degree of help from Director Ozpin and his predecessors, the first being Director Osmund - had effectively placed the safety of the public as a human shield between himself and public accountability for his actions.

That had been a devastating realization, and as the full implications of it had sunk into their minds, Summer and Ozpin had shared a look of pure outrage. Whatever other qualms Summer may have had with the man, she did believe the Director when he said that his highest priority was the protection of the civilians of Vale. It had only felt worse as she had had to look to Pyrrha and see it dawn on her that she would never be publicly acknowledged as part of the Arc family - at least, probably not in her own lifetime, and definitely not in her father's.

Summer felt as though she had failed. She had failed Pyrrha, just as she had failed her mother years and years before. Summer hadn't known Ceres Nikos all that well, the Mantle-born pilot having transferred to Beacon a few years before her death at Mountain Glenn, but that didn't stop Summer from blaming herself. She was a few years older than Ceres had been, and for the longest time, she had thought that there was something about herself, her being a painfully-naive and unsophisticated peasant girl from rural Patch, that had made her uniquely vulnerable a target for Gil Arc's attentions. She had gone to Raven - her closest friend and bitterest rival - the bandit woman had made him stop, and Summer had supposed that that had been that. It wasn't until her husband had disclosed Pyrrha's paternity, almost twenty years later, that Summer realized that Gil Arc hadn't only targeted her.

How different would things have been if she'd had the presence of mind to consider that other women and girls could be targeted? How different would things have been had she had the courage to come forward all those years ago?

"Mom?"

Summer was torn from her dark thoughts by the concerned voice of her daughter. Yang and Pyrrha were both staring at her. She realized with a start that she had driven her chopsticks clear though the takeout carton. "Oh," she murmured. "Sorry about that, girls. Just a little...distracted, is all."

Yang and Pyrrha shared a look, then Pyrrha looked back to her. "I know things were a little...rough, today. With Ozpin. But no matter what happens, I want you to know that I don't blame you for any of it. I know that you'll do the best that anyone could hope to do in this situation."

The older woman sighed. "Thank you, Pyrrha. I'm just sorry I couldn't do more for you."

"I know." Pyrrha gave her a brave smile. "But I believe that one day, people will know the truth. All of it. Whatever else happens, I know that there are people who genuinely care for me." Summer did not miss how Yang flushed when Pyrrha's emerald green eyes flickered over to her. "And hey, I even got an awesome brother out of it. So, I'll focus on making the best future that I can, and let the past come to light when it's ready."

Summer gave her a wan little smile. The thing about the past is that it remained fixed, unchangeable. It was too late for the seventeen-year old girl that Summer had been to come forward, and at least attempt to protect other girls, but the adult woman that she was now could do more. She would carry out the investigation, and preserve the truth for when Vale was ready for it. And she would push the reforms in the institution of Beacon so that other brave young people wouldn't have to cope with the abuse that she had endured.

Her smile deepened, becoming warmer as she looked at Yang and Pyrrha, two of her three girls. All who was missing was -

The door to her apartment flew open and a high-octane Ruby Rose rushed into the living room. The teenage girl vroomed over to Summer's couch and threw herself onto it. She planted her face into a pillow and screamed into it.

Summer had been on her feet in a flash, and was halfway over to her youngest daughter. "Ruby? Are you okay? What happened on your mission?"

Ruby peered up at her with the same silver eyes. "I asked him out!" she blurted. "I just asked him out, right there, on the spot!" She then clutched the pillow to her face and screamed into it again.

"Ruby, sweetheart," Summer began as she plucked the pillow away from her daughter. "What happened? Calm down and tell us, okay?"

The girl nodded, taking a deep breath, a big, goofy smile spreading on her face. "Right. So, we went into the Emerald Forest annnnnd there were a bunch of wolves, but they were all going for Jaune. So me, Dad, and Cardin picked them off of him, and when Dad asked Jaune why they were beelining for him, he said that he was having trouble with…" her smile faded. "Well, with his dad, and, you know, all of that. So….I kinda asked him if he'd like to talk to me about it...and he said yes...and then I asked if he'd like to talk about it with me over dinner some time, and he said yes again, and it just kinda spiralled, and now I have a date!"

Summer shook her head fondly as her youngest was practically vibrating in place from a mix of giddy excitement and nervous energy. "Ruby, dear, I know you're very excited, but you're going to need to be very careful in how you treat Jaune, okay?"

Ruby blinked. "Huh? What do you mean?" She looked over to Pyrrha, who looked worried.

"Well, it sounds like your friend Jaune is having a hard time, doesn't it?" Summer asked. "I know that all of these feelings you're having are new and exciting to you, but part of exploring these sorts of relationships is making sure to keep his feelings in mind too."

"Oh." Ruby's face fell. "Did I screw up already? Should I not have asked him?"

"Well, I never said that," said Summer, sitting down next to her daughter and embracing her. "He did say yes, after all. But what I'm trying to say is that...well, I know you," she said with a smirk. "When you decide that you want to do something, you go all-in on the idea. But Jaune's family is going through a lot of turmoil right now, and that's going to be difficult for him." Summer nodded in acknowledgement to Pyrrha before continuing. "You don't want to rush someone into something before they're ready. So go, be your usual, awesome Ruby self...but leave an invitation, instead of barging in. Like you did with my door," she added, with a wry tone and a look that told Ruby in no uncertain terms that she'd be fixing any damage she may have caused.

"I guess...I guess that makes sense," Ruby finally said.

"I should certainly hope so. I'd hate to think that all age has given me are backaches and stretch marks."

"You know, Pyr, this does remind me of another problem that Ruby's gonna have," Yang remarked, leaning against the redhaired girl's shoulder.

Pyrrha raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what's that?"

Yang's violet eyes sparkled with mischief and mirth. "Well, it seems as though Ruby has nothing to wear but flight suits and mechanic's overalls." Yang enjoyed seeing Ruby blanch under the realization that she was right, and that her closet was full of nothing but the comfy and practical clothes she wore every day.

"You know, I do think you're right!" Pyrrha added in mock-astonishment, though both older girls had been teasing Ruby about that very issue for some time now.

"And," Yang pressed on, relishing the sensation of being right, "I also remember Ruby telling me that if the day ever came where she - and I quote here - 'wanted to dress up for a stupid date with a dumb boy,' she would let me take her shopping for whatever outfit I wanted to put her in." Yang's smile was bright as a sunny day. "Remember that, Ruby? Remember when you told me that?"

"You did say that," Summer said to Ruby, in response to her unasked-question. The youngest girl slumped in defeat.

"How did you even remember that?" Ruby demanded of her older sister, giving her a dirty look. "I can't believe you kept receipts."

"Oh, Ruby, of course I kept receipts! That's what big sisters are for!"

Summer took a moment to straighten Ruby's hair, as it had become a little messy during her grand entrance. "Well, let's finish with our lunch first," she said, finding her appetite had returned. "Oh, and Yang? Be nice to your little sister. We want this to go well for her, remember?"

"You got it, Mom!" Yang chirped, giving a jaunty little salute. She nudged Pyrrha, and the two girls retrieved their third from the couch. "We got Mistrali takeout - is good!" Yang cheerily told the younger girl.

Summer watched the three of them as they moved to the kitchen, shaking her head ruefully at the body language between Yang and Pyrrha, and how, even with Ruby with them, the two older girls unconsciously oriented towards one another. Too cute.

She couldn't change the past. But she could work towards a better, more just world for her daughters.

[/]

Weiss stretched as she left her bathroom, her long white hair still damp from her shower, clad in a long blue nightgown. She and her sister were due to depart for the following day, and she wanted to get some last-minute memos sent out before officially ceding her SPC responsibilities to Whitley….for the time being. She cracked her knuckles as she sat down to her desk, firing up her console. As she began typing, she noticed a notification in the corner of her screen. It seemed that The Ghost was online.

Hello, Ghost, she typed swiftly. I have interesting news.

Good evening, Flower, he quickly responded. What's up?

I will be traveling to Vale forthwith, on work assignment. It is most exciting.

Oh?

Indeed. I wish I could tell you more, but alas, such is impossible at this time.

To travel from Vale to Atlas is no small journey.

I will simply have to manage. Despite the disruption, I am looking forward to the trip. This task of which we have been charged will be no small challenge. Who knows? Perhaps I will stumble across a Ghost or two?

I should like that, but my own duties are extensive.

Whoever heard of a poet with duties?

And yet there you are, Flower.

Despite herself, Weiss allowed the hint of a smile to curve her lips. Charmer.

Hardly.

Even that faint hint of a smile faded from the heiress's face as another thought occurred to her. Though her poor mother had tried to hide it, she could tell, from the slight hint of pain in her eyes, and the slight hint of guilt in her father's, that she had once again sought deeper affection from her husband, and was rebuffed. Ghost...what do you know of unrequited love?

There was a pause.

I may bear a passing knowledge of such, he finally typed to her. Why?

Someone close to me struggles with it. I would console her before my sister and I left, but...well, I don't know what to say. I was hoping a poet of your caliber could find word to speak what I cannot.

There was another pause, during which Weiss finished composing a memo to the SPC pertaining to her brother's new duties.

How should we like it were stars to burn

With a passion for us we could not return?

If equal affection cannot be

Let the more loving one be me.

Weiss blinked as she read the stanza, contemplating it. What The Ghost of Kuroyuri was telling her was that, in the event of love unrequited, it was better to be the one capable of giving love than to be the one receiving it, but unable to return it in kind. It was a consolation of a sort, perhaps the best that could be found under such circumstances. It was the perfect stanza to give to her mother as she and her sister departed for Vale. She started as she realized that she'd been staring at the stanza for almost two minutes straight, lost as she was in her own thoughts.

Flower?

Ghost, it's perfect, she praised. As expected for one of your consummate insight. I am in your debt.

There is no debt carried between friends.

Weiss blinked at the words on her screen. Friends? Was The Ghost a friend? She had considered him a contact, sure, a source of insight into wordsmithing and perhaps even a confidante, but...a friend? "Friendship" carried certain connotations, and certain obligations, and yet The Ghost had taken those up, seemingly without reservation, and without asking anything in return. Almost of their own accord, the corners of her lips lifted once more in a slight smile. A ghost of a smile for the Ghost of Kuroyuri.

So it would seem. Thank you again, and good night...my friend.

After shooting off one last memo, Weiss switched off her console. Slipping into her bed, she mused at the strange feeling of warmth in her chest. So, this was what it was like to have a friend, one that she made herself, and not a future business contact or potential associate to keep tabs upon as they matured. It felt...nicer than she would have thought.

She never realized that she fell asleep with that same ghost's smile gracing her lips.

[/]

As a veteran operative and the finest spy in all the world, Qrow Branwen had seen some things. Dark, terrible things, things that curdled the blood and chilled the soul. Things that change a man. But for all that he'd seen and done, nothing had ever rendered him quite so speechless as the truly colossal Grimm to which the Queen's pawns had led him. Hiding within the thick foliage, Qrow struggled to get a good estimate on just how big the damn thing was. The Grimm was of a draconic form, hunched on four enormous legs and with a bone-capped, snakelike head at the end of a long, serpentine neck. It had a pair of massive, leather wings that were currently folded along its back. Qrow had no idea if the thing could take flight, though he very much doubted it. Then again, something of that size shouldn't be able to stand, let alone move about, so he figured that the laws of physics were going to sit this one out. As if a Grimm the size of a literal, actual mountain was bad enough, it was apparent that someone had been doing experiments on them, and put it into play with this creature. First of all, the lesser cyberized Grimm that he'd seen with the other Armored Cores was apparently capable of being controlled by a person, and it had slotted into the skull of its larger counterpart like some sort of awful, wriggling brain parasite.

Because why just make giant Grimm when one could make giant Grimm that were also fundamentally morbid and creepifying?

Beyond its creepy control system, other instances of sapient intervention were readily-visible, from long metallic conduits running up its limbs and along its spine to what Qrow was pretty sure were missile launchers and even a brace of giant cannons ripped straight from an Atlesian main battleship. The implications of that were further disquieting, as it suggested that Salem had influence in Atlas, or at least an infiltrator who could sneak out some of Jimmy's best toys from out under his nose.

Just from eyeballing it, and from having used the other Armored Cores to scale before they had boarded through a steel hatch forcibly grafted over a gaping wound to its side, the spy estimated that this Grimm stood around six-hundred meters tall. With its long neck and thrashing tail, it could be as much as four times that in length. The mind boggled at the sheer scope of that Grimm. It more than dwarfed the Armored Cores the way ACs dwarfed people. Qrow's job involved tracking threats and either putting a stop to them himself or, failing that, giving others the information needed to take them out swiftly and efficiently. He was a professional, and that meant forcing down his shock and terror, and working out how to stop the damn thing.

Well, taking a look at the sheer scale of the creature, Qrow's mind immediately went to The Hidden Fire. He was one of the very few people who knew that the miraculous energy source that made all of modern life, including the Armored Cores, possible could also - theoretically - make a bomb of unprecedented power. James's predecessor had clamped down hard on that line of thought, and keeping that sort of firepower off of the table was one of the very few areas where the spy and the general agreed, the other being an agreement on the many fine qualities of a certain white-haired businesswoman. James had argued that proliferation of Armored Core technology, and the dawn of mechanized warfare between humans and the Faunus of Menagerie implied that the weapons that they deployed against the Grimm would invariably, if eventually, be used against one another. As such, the development of a weapon that could extirpate the capital, the backbone, of one of the four Kingdoms, was a step beyond the pale.

Qrow had agreed with the man's reasoning, but looking up at that giant Grimm, he couldn't help but wish that he had an almighty, capital-B Bomb to just hatefuck the Grimm into annihilation. Well, if wishes were fishes, aquatic Faunus would rule the world. As it was, Qrow would simply have to make due with the resources at hand.

Busting up a Grimm was usually done in one of two ways; Loud or Smart. If he were lookin' to bust up this thing Loud...well, it'd probably take throwing every Armored Core in Beacon at it, all at once, and even then, he wasn't all that sure as to which side would come out on top. For busting it up Smart...well, it'd demonstrated the ability to receive human passengers within it, so it would be a matter of slipping in and busting up everything important-looking. A good idea...but Qrow knew that Salem knew how he thought, and there would be no way that she hadn't prepared some countermeasures against him, specifically, within that thing's body. With something of that scale, it might be worth the risk anyway - his life for Vale was a bargain at twice the price - but the consequences of his attempting and failing weren't limited to just his own death. Beacon needed to be warned. If this thing fell on them from the blue, they would die, and Vale would die with them. His family - Summer, Tai, Yang, Ruby - all of them would die.

That was not an outcome that Qrow Branwen was prepared to accept.

So he stayed hidden as the apparent crew of the Grimm moved about, and he studied everything he could about it. Moreover, he saw signs of dissent among the enemy - the mint-haired girl had not looked happy, and from time to time, he saw her and the silver guy emerge, walk around a bit, and she was almost always yelling at him, gesticulating in anger and panic. It wasn't much, and he had to balance the potential benefit of approaching her to cultivate that dissent with the very high costs of getting caught. He opted for patience. He'd stay and observe as the crew did...whatever it was one did to prepare a fuckoff-huge Grimm for an assault, and if the opportunity to approach Minty presented itself before he took off to warn Beacon, then he'd make the most of it.

He had to be sharp. The stakes were too high. But fortunately for Vale, there was no one in the world sharper than Qrow Branwen.

[/]

Jaune knocked on the door to the Xiao Long family apartment, to be met with a worried squeak from the other side of the door and muffled giggling. After a moment, the door opened, revealing a lightly-blushing Ruby, who totally hadn't been anxiously fidgeting at the door. She was dressed in a red blouse, over which she had tied a black corset, one of the fashion styles native to Vale. She had a pleated black skirt, which ended a carefully-respectable length above the knee, and a pair of simple flats. All told, it was a cute, yet appropriate ensemble for a teenage girl on a night out.

"You look nice," he told her.

"Do you like it?" she asked, fidgeting nervously with her red-streaked hair. "I mean, Yang picked it out for me, because all I have are, you know, flight suits."

"Oh my gods, don't tell him that you only wear flight suits!" Yang, having heard her little sister babbling, called out from the living room.

Jaune smiled at her. "Well, she did a good job. I mean, you didn't have to go out and make an effort on my account. If you're more comfortable in your flight suits, you can go change into that. I won't mind. I mean, I'm not super dressed up either." Jaune had put on a pair of grey slacks, a white button-down shirt, and a yellow blazer, which was more decent than everyday wear without getting into the realm of the embarrassingly fancy.

"It's okay," Ruby murmured. While it was nice that Jaune wouldn't make a big deal of her choosing to wear her normal style, she had put a great deal of time and effort into getting dolled up for her first date, and she wasn't going to let that go to waste! "I mean, part of tonight is, you know, getting me to try new things, right? Besides, look at this!" She gave a quick little spin in place, which sent her skirt flaring out around her. "Skirt goes spinny!" declared Ruby. While skirt did indeed go spinny, that was only a small factor in her gesture. She was effectively writing the invitation for Jaune to look at her as a girl, and a pretty girl no less. It would be up to him whether or not he'd accept, but Ruby Rose would give it nothing less than her best effort!

"I think you're really going to have fun at the dance hall," he said. "It'll be good to do something silly and fun for once."

"Yeah," she agreed, smiling up at him. At some point, her heart was going to stop racing when she looked up at him, right? That was a thing that happened?

"Okay, you two." The couple looked over to see Taiyang approaching, his hands in his pockets in the manner of a dad. "Remember what I said. Either back here or with your mother no later than ten," he told Ruby. "Call if something happens, or if you're held up and going to be late. Or if you need a ride back home. Oh, and don't be afraid to stab him if he gets handsy," he added.

Ruby looked at her father with a skeptical expression on her face, and it was all she could do to keep herself from wondering aloud what to do if she wanted him to get at least a little handsy. "It'll be fine, Dad," she assured him, with the same put-upon tone that teenage girls everywhere had taken with their fathers since the dawn of time.

"Right. Well, you two have fun."

They took the afternoon trolley into town, chatting about minor things, like how their friends were doing, whether their respective sisters would ever act on their obvious attraction to one another, or pop culture events that they missed while busy with their work for Beacon. Since completing the refit of Crocea Mors, Jaune had missed spending so much time with Ruby, and just Ruby. She tended to fade into the background whenever the Lance met as a group, but away from everyone else, she was able to open up. When Ruby was like that….well, just being around her made him happy. She was just such a positive being, and being with her made his increasingly-bitter moods fade away, like storm clouds chased away by the bright summer sun.

He led her to a small diner on a street corner. While it had a decent number of customers for the start of the dinner rush, it wasn't so crowded that it would be hard for them to find a booth. While the furniture, walls and floor were obviously old and worn, they were still kept quite clean, particularly by the old woman in the stained apron, who was wiping down the counter with a rag. "Well hey, Jaune!" she greeted him warmly with a thick rural accent, having obviously recognized him. "Is the rest of the bunch around the corner or something?"

"No, just me tonight, Miss Greene," Jaune politely answered. "Er, well, I mean, just me and my friend Ruby here."

"Oh, I see," the old woman teased, causing a light flush to rise to Jaune's cheeks. "Well, you two just pull up any seat you like, and I'll be right with you."

"Thank you, ma'am." Jaune inclined his head before turning to his date. "Anywhere in particular?"

Ruby looked over the small diner. "Um...there," she said, pointing out a booth that had a nice view of the Vale waterfront as the sky began to streak with the orange and yellow hues of sunset.

"There it is," Jaune agreed. They took their seats and Ruby began looking through the menu. "So, what do you like?"

"Well, it's hard to argue with a nice juicy burger, fries, and a thick malted milkshake," Jaune said. "It's, like, the Valean Way."

"I guess that does sound nice," she agreed.

After a moment, the old woman came to them, notepad in hand. "Hello, dears," she greeted. "Jaune, I trust you'll be having your usual?"

"Wouldn't want it any other way, ma'am."

"And for you, sweetie?" she asked Ruby.

"Oh, um, I'll have the same thing, but with a strawberry shake instead of chocolate, please."

The woman beamed at the girl. "Oh, you are just the sweetest little thang!" she drawled. "You'd better be on your best behavior with this one, young man," she added, pointing a spatula at Jaune like a deadly weapon.

"Yes, ma'am!" Jaune quickly said, not wanting to find himself on the bad side of an old lady with a spatula.

When she was gone, Jaune shook his head with a rueful smile. "I've been coming here with my family since before I could walk. It's not quite 'how mom used to make,' but it's a close second." He looked out the window, watching the hustle and bustle of the waterfront. "I've been thinking a lot you know. About what I'm doing, why I'm doing it. At first, it was simple - defend the city because my father told me to. But with everything I've learned, that wasn't good enough. And that first night, when we got back to Beacon, what you said, what I learned from the Director…" He looked back at Ruby, a gentle smile on his face. "I enjoy piloting an Armored Core, and I'm good at it - and that's good - but it never occurred to me before joining Beacon what it meant that...well, Vale is my home. I know these people, and they know me, or at least, a lot of them do. It wasn't until I stopped taking everything I knew for granted that I really looked around and realized just how much this place, and these people, mean to me."

He trailed off when the diner lady returned, balancing a tray with two baskets. In each was a large hamburger and a generous serving of fries, which were soon joined by tall, frosted glasses filled with thick milkshakes. Ruby had strawberry, while Jaune preferred chocolate. "There you go," the server said cheerfully. "You kids enjoy that, now!"

Jaune politely thanked her before the lady moved off, to serve other customers and give the teens their space. "Here, try this," Jaune said to Ruby, dipping one of his fries in his shake and offering it to her. "It's good, yeah?"

"Mmhmm!" Ruby's silvery eyes sparkled as she ate the sweet and salty morsel. "But I bet strawberry's better." She plucked up one of her own fries and scooped up some strawberry shake, holding it out for him to take. "You said your family's been coming here your whole life?" she asked him as he munched the fry. "How long has it been here?"

He swallowed the fry before answering. "Well, back when...well, when my parents were our age, this diner was actually pretty close to the edge of town. There used to be the city walls not far from here, actually, and this diner was a popular meeting place for people crossing the town, either headed for the docks or going to Castle Vale. Obviously, this was before the old fortress was torn down and Beacon was built in its place." Jaune shook his head wistfully. "Vale used to be so much smaller. I guess when I was younger, it was easy to fall into the habit of thinking that my father was solely responsible for making Vale what it is today. Of course, that's not true. This city is a...a collective effort. Every single one of us contributes in some way towards building it, improving it, making it work."

Jaune paused in his musings, as he saw that, as he'd spoken, Ruby had absently taken a giant bite out of her burger, her cheeks puffed up like a rodent's as she chewed and listened to him. He knew from his sisters that girls were often under a lot of social pressure when it came to eating, especially eating in public. One of his sisters, Cerulea, had actually developed an eating disorder because of it, and it had taken his family a lot of time and dedicated effort to help her overcome her anorexic tendencies. If Ruby had ever felt those pressures before, she gave no sign of it, having scarfed a third of a large burger in a single, enormous bite. That was just how Ruby was, at least when she was comfortable; if she set her mind to do something, she was going to do it full bore, to the best of her ability.

It was just one of those unguarded, completely sincere gestures of pure Ruby-ness that Jaune found so endearing.

With a strange warmth spreading through his chest, Jaune opted to press ahead. "I just...I studied my dad's career like it was my job. I know that he put in years of work defending this city, and the people in it, and I don't think - I can't think - that that was an act. He held Mountain Glenn, on his own, for almost a week before reinforcements arrived, and when they were overrun, he refused to retreat until the last civilian transport had gone. His carrier chopper had to magnetically drag Crocea Mors out of there, Dad swearing a storm the whole time. He loves our people, I know he does." Jaune frowned as his mood turned dark once more. "For all he tried to use his service as a shield, he did things that no one would do if they weren't truly, genuinely committed to protecting the people of Vale. So what I can't understand is why he preyed on some of those same people, why he would...do the things that he did. And I'm terrified that if I don't find the answer, I'm going to end up the same way."

"What?" Ruby blurted. "That's crazy!"

Jaune shook his head. "It's hard to get unbiased accounts of what Dad was like when he first started piloting Crocea Mors, but from what I've gathered, he wasn't so different from me. Something must have happened. Something must have...I don't know, changed him, or...something, something that made him think that it was okay for him to do what he did. And if I don't know what that something is, how can I keep it from happening to me too?"

"It's not like someone made him do those things," Ruby pointed out. "Your Dad made his choices. If you want to know why he chose to do the things he did, the only one who can tell you is him. Understanding why might help, but just like you made your choice that first night at Beacon, the only one who can choose how you treat other people is...you know, you. And I think you're doing great."

"What do you mean?"

Ruby smiled fondly at him, and how he genuinely didn't know what she was talking about. Impulsively, before she could think better of it, she reached over the table and took his hand in hers. "I don't think you know just how you come off to other people," she told him, blushing slightly at how large his hand felt compared to her own. "I mean, Pyrrha just adores you. She was so happy to learn about you that she cried, Jaune. After what happened with your dad, I think she'd crawl across broken glass for you."

"Pyrrha's my sister, same as any of the others. I made sure to let her know that, whatever else happens, I'll be her family, and I meant it. I wasn't going to leave her out to dry, even if that meant going up against my dad."

Ruby rolled her eyes. "There you go! You're doing it again!"

"Doing what again?"

Gods, there was that look on his face, that look of innocent obliviousness that made Ruby want to leap over the table and kiss him silly. Well, he was already silly, so kiss him sillier. "This! You're being a good person and not even realizing it! So just...stop! Stop beating yourself up over stuff you might do, you butt!" Ruby realized that the other diner patrons were looking at them following her outburst, and blushed deeper. "Look," she said, her voice lower. "You only recently met Pyrrha, and you were able to love her like the best brother ever. When you were talking about Vale earlier, I could feel how you love your home and the people who live here. So sure, go talk with your dad, if you can trust the answers he gives you. But for what it's worth, I think that if you just…" she shook her head and shrugged, struggling to find the right words. "If you just trust love, if you keep it close and remember to let it lead you, I don't think you'll go wrong."

The two teens fell silent then, a long, comfortable pause in the conversation, with Ruby's blush gradually fading in the face of the warm, deep blue depths of Jaune's eyes on her. "You should eat, silly," she finally said.

"Gonna need my hand back for that," he replied, lifting up the hand she'd grabbed to call attention to the fact that she was still holding it.

"Mmmm, nope," she said, after having contemplated it.

He quirked an amused eyebrow at her. "Nope?"

"Nope."

"Am I getting that hand back any time soon?"

"Nope."

"It's gonna make piloting an AC difficult."

"You'll just have to manage. Now, let's eat!"

Jaune could only shake his head ruefully. If he'd truly wanted to, he could have easily yanked his hand away, but feeling her small hand in his...well, it was kinda nice. Kinda really nice, especially when she looked up at him with those huge silver eyes of hers, with complete sincerity, and gave it a squeeze. No matter what, he had Ruby Rose in his corner.

For the first time in a long time, Jaune felt like everything was going to be okay.

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How had it come to this?

Gil Arc sat in his study, whiskey in hand, mustering the courage to go upstairs and come clean to his wife. He supposed that it had to happen eventually. The truth had a way of coming out, after all. He'd lived long enough to see that for himself, several times. He supposed he figured that he could keep some particular truths under wraps long enough that they'd never come back to haunt him. In a morbid way, it'd almost worked. Much longer of a delay in getting him to the hospital after his attack - or if he'd not had a doctor for a daughter - and death would have freed him from facing this particular day.

Jaune's ultimatum was almost up. He would be coming to the house the next day, with Pyrrha in tow, and he would tell his mother and sisters everything. Gil could see it in his eyes. While his son's rapid maturation was, in a sense, the death-knell of his attempts to exert control over what his family knew and what they did, he couldn't help but be proud. His boy was growing strong, stronger than he'd ever hoped when he was a little tow-headed boy following after him, eyes shining with uncritical hero worship.

His son would never look at him that way again.

The notion didn't hurt as much as he thought it would. He still reeled over the sheer command in his son's voice, when he'd taken control of their conversation and protected the girl as best he could. Jaune would go far, he could just tell. It was the way of things, he supposed, for the son to surpass and eventually replace the father. After all, as disconcerting as it was to be effectively usurped by his son, it would have been such a disappointment had Jaune proven to be made of less sturdy stuff.

It wasn't as though he hadn't given the boy ample reason to oppose him, after all. When he was Jaune's age, he never would have thought that he'd go on to do the things he'd done. He'd always been a shameless flirt, that was true, but after Maria…

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. It was all just a series of choices, one after the other, cascading into an out-of-control chain reaction that had him doing things he never would have thought that he would have done. All because he'd never been able to fill the void when Maria called it off, leaving him and moving on with her life. Or was that just another excuse? At the end of the day, he'd cheated on his wife, abused the trust of the young women that he'd been entrusted to lead and teach, and utterly disgraced himself.

Gil remembered how Ceres had wept when he told the silly girl that he had no intention of leaving his wife and family for some stupid teenager who'd just been a warm body during his trip to Atlas. She'd slapped him. He'd slapped her back, hard, repeatedly, to emphasize that he was done with her. He'd knocked her to the ground, and demanded she abort the damn fetus, coldly ignoring her broken sobs. That was the last time he'd spoken to her; by the time she had transferred from Atlas to Vale, he'd retired from more active service, taking up his vigil as part of the Watch. Then she'd died at Mountain Glenn, and that, he'd figured, had been that. In retrospect, he should have put two-and-two together when her daughter had showed up and made such an effort to be around him. He supposed he was just too used to his wife and children obeying him to expect to be defied like that.

Well. At least he hadn't made a pass at his own daughter.

He still didn't know why Ceres had kept it. It was just as likely that Pyrrha was a living, breathing weapon against him, an instrument of her mother's revenge, as it was that the girl was some sort of souvenir, or tribute to the love that the crazy little brat had insisted was between them. It could even be that her decision had nothing to do with him at all, he supposed. With the woman dead, no one could speak as to her true intentions.

It occurred to the disgraced Hero of Vale that he could have other bastards running around out there. It was unlikely, but still technically possible. Well, those ones, if they even existed, were on their own; his real family would have their hands full with the bastard that he was going to be forced to acknowledge.

In a way, he supposed he was responsible for the startling transformation of Summer Rose. She had been feeble when he'd first met her. He could still see her as she'd been afterwards, huddled on her knees in front of him, hiding her face in her hands and weeping. For the life of him, Gil couldn't understand why she'd been crying, but the last thing he'd expected after that debacle had been for that same pitiful, weeping girl to turn around and sic her psycho bandit friend on him. And then, twenty years later, she had stormed his hangar, dictated in no uncertain terms what would happen if he tried to retaliate against Pyrrha, and had threatened his life in two different ways. Would Summer Rose have found that inner strength if not for him? He rather doubted it. Of course, he also doubted that she would appreciate that particular insight. Strangely, the two of them shared an interest in preventing Taiyang Xiao Long from beating him to death - him not wanting to be beaten to death, and her not wanting her husband imprisoned - but with Director Ozpin's own blatant threat to his life, he knew that provoking that family was a risk to be stridently avoided. If he crossed the Director, he might just serve him up to them on a silver platter, and blame his murder on that Taurus punk. It was what he would have done in Ozpin's position.

Better to lay low. Retire, as Ozpin said, and focus on the upcoming train wreck that was his family life.

Which brought him back to his current predicament. While of course he'd been mostly motivated on having his family, especially Jaune, stay away from Beacon for their own safety, a part of him couldn't deny that he'd also been trying to prevent this very scenario from occurring. He hadn't known about Pyrrha, but Summer Rose could have talked, as could a few other women pilots at Beacon. Well, that effort had failed, spectacularly. His attempt to discredit Pyrrha and turn his son against his half-sister had been dead-on-arrival. Director Ozpin had shut down his attempts to have Pyrrha transferred, or at least prevented from having contact with his family. So many schemes, threats, and lies. Lies upon lies, decades of them, and all of them had come to naught. Now, there was nowhere left to run from them.

Gil drained the glass of whiskey, setting it on the small table next to his chair. He took a deep breath, savoring the last moments of his life before the truth had emerged. The old man rose from his chair, wincing at the creaking protest of his back. Slowly, he shuffled out of his study and up the stairs. Opening the door to the bedroom which he shared with his wife - for now - he saw Isabelle, seated before her vanity and dressed in her traditional Mantle nightgown, brushing her long gray hair before retiring to bed.

He wondered if he loved her. It was hard to tell. On the one hand, he'd done so many things to keep his less-savory habits from her, to keep her from feeling that pain and betrayal. On the other hand, perhaps one can't claim to truly love a woman while betraying her for decades on end.

"Hello, Gil," she said, turning to him. The lines at the corners of her eyes deepened as she smiled warmly at him, possibly for the last time.

"Isabelle," he said, his tone grave. "We need to talk."

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Ruby was all smiles as she and Jaune left the dance hall. She'd had so much fun! She had been worried that she was going to look dumb and ruin Jaune's time, but he had been there the whole time, guiding her through steps. And a lot of those steps were so athletic! Besides spinning her by the hand or lifting her in his arms, there were a few times where he'd practically swung her around his body! His dancer's build was slender but so strong, and she'd never once worried that his firm, but careful grip on her body would falter. He didn't even tremble when holding her up above his head!

Ruby was a big enough girl to admit to herself that that was exactly the kind of handsy that she'd been hoping Jaune would get while on their date.

Huh. Turns out that dancing could be a blast. Who knew?

She shivered a little in the night air. While it wasn't exactly cold, going from the heated exertions of the dance hall to the chilly night gave her the shiveries.

"Here, take this."

Silver eyes went wide as she felt Jaune drape his blazer over her shoulders. The jacket was warm, yeah, but it was nothing compared to how she was feeling, the simple gesture drawing a goofy little smile from her. Jaune Arc. What was she going to do with this boy? Oh gods, it even smelled nice. Her drawing the garment close around herself had nothing to do with keeping warm.

"I'm going to give your dad a call, let him know we're on the way back to Beacon," he said, the young couple making their way down the city sidewalks towards Beacon.

Ruby made happy little Ruby noises next to him as Jaune took out his Scroll. "Hi, sir," he said, once the Captain had answered the call. "Just letting you know that we've left the dance hall, and we're on our way back to Beacon. We're on foot, but we should be there with...oh, looks like around fifteen minutes to spare. Yes, sir, will do." He handed the Scroll to Ruby. "Here, your dad wants to talk to you."

"Hi, Daddy!" Ruby chirped happily.

"Hey, Ruby. Are you okay?"

Ruby could only just giggle helplessly at how silly a question that was. Okay. She was dancing on the moonlit clouds just then.

"Are you drunk?" Taiyang asked, suddenly concerned.

"No, I'm not drunk, don't be silly," she rebuked her father. "I'm just...I'm just so unbelievably happy right now."

There was a pause on the other end of the line as he processed that response. "Well, I'm glad to hear that, sweetheart," he finally said. "You be safe on the way home, okay?"

"Yup! See you soon, Dad!"

She handed back the Scroll to Jaune, who tried very hard not to panic as he explained to her father that, no, they hadn't had any alcohol, or even gone anywhere that served alcohol. Ruby was just being Ruby.

"You're gonna get me shot," Jaune lamented, once he'd put away his Scroll.

Ruby just giggled as she made herself comfortable under his arm. "Oh, what's the worst that could happen?" she asked.

"He could shoot me," Jaune deadpanned. "Your dad has bazookas, Rubes. Great big, Armored Core-scaled bazookas. Two of them."

"Don't forget the rocket launchers!"

"And the rocket launchers, yes. How could I have forgotten?" He shook his head fondly at the short teen girl who was peering up at him with a bright smile and silver eyes. "Worth it," he decided.

After reaching Beacon, they stopped in the hallway outside of the Xiao Long family apartment.

"I...had a really great time tonight, Jaune," Ruby said. "I hope I was able to help with, you know, all of the everything." She dropped her gaze to her hands, which she fiddled with nervously. "I um, I know it's going to be hard for you, with figuring things out. And I don't want to impose. But I just, you know...oh, son of a biscuit!" Giving up on trying to find the right words, Ruby popped up onto the very tips of her toes - gods, he was so tall! - and kissed him, a quick, sweet peck on the lips. Like her mother had suggested, she had made an invitation, not an ultimatum.

Stepping back away from him, it hit her what she'd just been bold enough to do, and her cheeks burned. "That's a maiden's first kiss, you know," she told him. "You have to treasure it forever, or else you'll have bad luck."

"Don't worry, Ruby. I will. I promise."

"And an Arc never goes back on his word?"

"I don't know about that." His blue eyes bore into her, making her stomach do flips. "But I won't."

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Their parents and brother came to see them off, of course. At the last minute, the General, perhaps a little more concerned for his daughters' safety then he'd let on, had authorized the experimental unmanned Armored Core that contained an artificial intelligence, to accompany the Schnee sisters on their mission. The official justification had been to get a proper field test of the technology, but neither woman had believed that for an instant. Penny had been loaded aboard, along with their own Armored Cores, Moonlight and Myrtenaster.

Weiss hugged her mother goodbye, pressing a scrap of paper into her hand. The Schnee matriarch, puzzled, glanced down to read what her daughter had had to say in such a fashion.

If equal affection cannot be.

Let the more loving one be me.

The rhyme, simple as it was, demonstrated two things to Willow: firstly, her daughter had a way with words, but secondly, and more importantly, despite the best efforts, at least one of their children knew the true state of her marriage to their father. Willow felt tears well up as her daughters' ship pulled from the port.

"Don't worry, Mother," Whitley, who had seen the tears, was quick to comfort her. For once, there was no sarcastic lilt to his tone as he spoke. "Weiss is talented and levelheaded, and Winter is simply the finest soldier in all the world. I'm sure that they'll both be fine."

Willow wrapped her arms around her son, holding him close. "You're a good boy."

"I thought I was a scoundrel and a troublemaker," he replied, keeping his tone light for her sake.

"You're a scoundrel, and a troublemaker, and a good boy," she corrected.

"I love you too, Mother."

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Lottie Lance was a lot of things, but a patient woman, she was not. She *knew* that there was going to be an ambush along this caravan moving steel ore from the iron mine to the industrial quarter of Vale. She knew it. The truck drivers transporting the metal knew it. The White Fang knew it. The only person even remotely involved who might not have known it was her partner for this escort mission, the bizarre Mah Axe.

Axe had always been a strange one. While her own AC, Paragon, was a fairly standard bipedal-generalist build, mainly distinguished by a powerful shield on her left arm and one of the new PPK laser rifles in her right, Mah's Armored Core was...well, it was ridiculous.

To start with, the damned thing was named The Suspicious Chicken, which was grounds enough for Lance to wonder if his AC was some sort of odd, hugely-expensive prank. Reverse-legged ACs were common enough, but foregoing more standard arm parts and weapons in favor of dedicated missile launchers that folded against the Core - looking, for all the world, like the folded up wings of a bird - were not. Then there was the fact that the entire thing was painted to resemble a giant chicken, with a white body, brown legs, and a jaunty red streak on the top of the head. Lottie was fairly sure that The Suspicious Chicken's pilot had designed his Armored Core to resemble a giant chicken first, then learned how to pilot such a rig after the fact.

In those conditions, it was almost a relief when her radar picked up several AC units ahead of them.

"We've got contact!" As they neared, the enemy ACs came into visual range, showing a half-dozen of the mass-produced Crocea Mors units. They were standing in between the stone walls cut through a hill as part of a quarry, attempting to block their way.

"Pick yer partners, and don't do nothin' yer mom would approve of!" The Chicken drawled with a rural accent.

Lottie shook her head. Six-to-effectively-one odds were bad, even with the enemy in inferior units, but fortunately, she didn't need to destroy them all to win. She just needed to get the civvies clear. It wasn't a great situation for them, but they needed the score. The city needed that metal, and that meant that they needed to transport it. It was easy to be brave in a sixty-foot tall armored war machine, but these folks were braving facing the enemy in mining transport trucks; she would see them safely on their way.

She lined up a shot with her laser rifle, the tightly-focused beam of coherent light searing through the air faster than thought, burning into the armor of one of the enemy ACs. That was a good start. Then she heard a sort of shrieking from a few dozen meters to her side, and she turned her head to see The Suspicious Chicken, its launchers unfolded and spread proudly to either side, send dozens of missiles downrange. The enemy was forced to scatter from the devastating volley. With their inferior boosters and lack of overdrive, most failed to fully escape the blast radius. All six suffered some degree of damage from the explosions, and the two that had been in the center were disabled or destroyed entirely.

Lottie heard a whoop on her radio. "Betcha ya ain't gonna cluster up again, are ya?" The Chicken taunted.

All right. Missile chicken. Whatever.

She began boost-hopping, punishing the enemy units with precision laser shots, while her shield absorbed their solid-state rifle rounds and the laser interception system on her Core picked off the lazy few missiles that they sent her way in retaliation. Meanwhile, The Chicken punished any of the enemy units who strayed too close together, saturating the area with missile fire. Pretty soon, they had pushed the remaining White Fang Cores back and out of the quarry entirely. Lottie hailed them on her radio.

"Attention, Enemy Armored Cores. You're overmatched. Surrender and exit your Cores, and no one else needs to be hurt to -"

Before she could finish offering her opponents a chance to surrender, her head sensors picked up a sudden, sharp energy reading to her left. Which was impossible, as directly to her left was a wall of solid stone.

An eruption of bloodred plasma burst from the side of the quarry wall. Lottie's helmet bashed painfully against her viewscreen as she had hurled herself away from it, the partial hit - and subsequent destruction of near half her Armored Core - sending her crashing into the far wall of the quarry with bone-jarring force.

"Warning," the eerily-calm, feminine voice of her Core's computer spoke up. "The Suspicious Chicken has been destroyed."

That was no lie. The odd Armored Core had been blasted apart, the slagged remnants of its limbs strewn across the valley. Its Core looked mostly intact, which Lottie hoped meant that its pilot had lived, but things were not looking good.

They weren't looking good for her either. Her left arm and leg were gone, and as she looked, part of the left side of her Core was exposed to the open air. Her generator was blown, and her optics sensors and communications suite were running off of emergency batteries. All she could do was watch as a black and red Armored Core, one far more advanced than the mass produced units, emerged from the molten tunnel that it had blasted through the hill.

Lottie keyed her radio. "Attention, unknown Armored Core: I offer my unconditional surrender. I can't fight back."

The voice that responded was cold. "There is no surrender between predators and prey."

Lottie Lance could do nothing as the enemy Armored Core ignited its bloodred plasma blade. A flash of red and then -

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Chapter Endnotes: Well, that ended on a violent note.

Ren's stanza in this chapter is pulled from W.H. Auden's poem "The More Loving One."

Schneeblings! Part of the fun of an AU is exploring how changes you make can manifest in unforeseen, but still explainable ways. In this instance, Winter's hair and Whitley's physique are inherited from their father. Meanwhile, Ironwood being upfront about theirs being a political alliance first and foremost means that, while Willow is still sad - will someone please love this poor woman? - she hasn't descended into the non-functional alcoholism of canon. It's a somewhat bitter case where, while Ironwood respects his wife, honors her, and is her partner in both politics and the raising of their children, he just can't love her the way he loved Glynda, no matter how much he might wish he could. That the two are so compatible in so many other ways makes it both better and worse at the same time.

D'aww, Weiss made a poetry friend.

"Oobleckian Economics" made me giggle. I don't care if not everyone gets that one - the right people will get it.

Whether he had intended to or not, Gil Arc had effectively turned the safety and security of Vale as part of his shield from public accountability. His realization of that - and the recognition of his own complicity in making such a situation possible - has Oz feeling both foolish and furious.

But while public reputation is nice, what really motivated Gil Arc was keeping his habits a secret from his family, especially his wife. All of his attempts to squirm away from coming clean to them have failed, and now there's nothing left for him to do but to tell his wife everything - or else his son will.

Becoming just like his father used to be Jaune's dearest wish. Now it's his greatest fear. Good thing there's a cute mechanic girl to kick him in the butt and tell him to stop being a stoopid.

Oh, yeah, Aura, Semblances, magic, all of that still exists in this AU. It just isn't common knowledge.

One of Oz's young incarnations set off this AU by following the "Fuck Around - Find Out" theory of Villain Taunting.

Qrow Branwen is on the case! Sneaky birb is sneaky. And yes, those estimated measurements for The Midnight Titan are accurate. It is absurdly huge. Cinder's attack on Vale will be many things for this story. Subtle is not amongst them.

Sorry this one took me so long to write! Thank you all for reading!

Mahina