"… fighting on the western front rages on as protesters in Vale continue to make waves back at the capital. Standing out in front of the Atlesian Council to voice their displeasure of the war efforts, urging Councilman Sleet to withdraw Valean troops and students from the draft…"

"Bring our troops back home!"

"Atlesian scum!"

"Fascists!"

"Councilman Sleet? Are you really going to let one rampaging mad woman walk all over the entire Council, just like that?"

"No comment."

"… several peaceful protests turned violent with police seemingly using excessive force…"

"These people are domestic terrorists! I stand with our fellow officers in uniform. They're just out there doing their jobs. I don't have a problem with any Valean, but this needs to stop. Burning down local private businesses is simply not the way to go…"

Tossing her scroll to the side, Weiss sat back down behind her desk in the middle of this tent. Staring outside through the fabric, she could see the young private standing there, waiting for his Chancellor's command.

Tapping her finger on the table stacked with piles upon piles of maps and war reports, she decided right there and then that this was too unsightly for a proper meeting. So at the speed of light, she dashed around the room, shoving all the papers and files into their respective drawers and cabinets.

"Come in," she called, sitting back down once more.

And there, through the entrance, Whitley entered.

Glancing about the tent with an anxious expression, it almost seemed to Weiss as if this young man had never been summoned by a superior officer before in his life. Reading his heartbeat, the rapid beating so far made sense. But there was also a certain fresh scent and sound to the way it thumped on like a cold golden drum.

"Have a seat."

Nodding his head before a quick salute, Whitley then complied.

The two of them sat there face to face, staying silent for a short while as Weiss studied his posture and expression. Certain familiar features on his face alongside other physical descriptions definitely did match what was written in his personal profile. But there were others that were missing in the report, which Weiss had only now been able to closely examine.

"High Chancellor, ma'am," said Whitley, "I would like to commence with any disciplinary action the Empire may have on my behavior."

Tapping on her chin, Weiss sat there with a frozen stoic face, instantly remembering a similar line of dialogue being uttered not too long ago. She knew right there and then – this really was her brother.

Clapping her hands together, Weiss stood from her seat and leaned forward onto her desk. There she would say:

"Private Whitley Schnee. That Schnee name – do you notice anything strange?"

With a peculiar blank expression on his face, as if trying to avoid the question, he shook his head. Weiss continued:

"What is my name, soldier?"

"Huh? Oh… well, you are the High Chancellor. The Superman."

"No!" Weiss shook her head. "What is my name?"

Dumbfounded and with his lips shaking, he carefully sat up straight before uttering from under his breath the name:

"Weiss Schnee."

Nodding her head, she stood up tall with her feet floating off the ground, saying:

"Let us cut to the chase. You are a smart enough soldier, that's why the Empire recruited you in the first place. So you should be able to put two and two together and figure out what is going on."

Whitley shook his head, not out of ignorance, but simply from disbelief.

"No… how can…"

"This is the truth – you are my brother."

A wave of new emotions immediately flooded all over his face with his eyes darting all over the place trying to look for answers in places that surely would not give him any. But he continued on doing so anyway, staring down the palm of his hands to feel the flesh and bone. Desperately trying to feel the reality of the situation.

All of it was forced on hold, however, the moment Weiss decided to walk toward the entrance of the tent. Without even looking over her shoulders, she said:

"This will be disorienting for you, but until we get to the bottom of this, you are hereby forbidden from leaving camp and will be put under special supervision until further notice. The war rages on, soldier. I must answer the call of the West, but you have the word of your Chancellor – I will be back."

With that, she took off into the sky, flying at the speed of light.

Historically speaking, Mt. Glenn was most famous for two things. One of those was the huge complex network of caves stretching far into the depth of the stones and dirt underground. These caves were home to a enormous supply of Dust that even to this very day, the people had still yet to fully extract from. It was for this reason that mining became the standard industry around these parts. With many folks from the Valley, including the Kaisar Tribe, participating in the gathering.

There was so much Dust to go around, it was not uncommon for the Valeans to even occasionally run into folks coming in from the West in Vacuo, who also came to partake in the mining and digging. It was simple work, but heavy labor, one that yielded good profit from the sweat of the brow.

On the other hand, the second thing that Mt. Glenn was historically known for – was the demonic infestation of the Grimm monsters, lurking in the darkness.

The ancient peoples dwelling in places beyond and around the mountain had often found it frustrating in the past to deal with these dangerous creatures. But as the years went by, and warriors among the tribes and kingdoms became more and more powerful, the trouble of the Grimm creatures slowly faded away into nothing but a nuisance if one were strong enough.

And with the arrival of the Empire – the Grimm were pushed to the very brink of extinction.

Now, standing in front of the great stones that made up the foundation of this natural monument, Ghost decided to take in one final breath, breathing in the scent of the lingering Dust in the mines from afar, the moss growing all over the massive boulders, and the faint sound of tiny pebbles rolling down from a distance far above at the peak piercing into the bright blue sky.

He wanted to savor this moment, for he knew – the history of this place was about to be completely discarded, thrown straight out the window like a crumpled piece of paper.

"Hey, man," Oliver approached.

Ghost turned his head, nodding in acknowledgment.

"We're really going through with this?" Oliver asked.

"Our sensors confirmed the mines are empty. The rebels and pirates have all retreated to the West. It means they didn't take any hostages."

"Ha, should've just hunkered down and let it blow over. Or try anyway. It wouldn't have worked, but at least it would've been a challenge."

"We've already evacuated most of the Valeans living in this area. And I don't think King Theodore is the kind to actually use his own people as war commodities. He's a maniac, but not heartless."

"What do you think they're up to then? Why retreat to Vacuo?"

"Likely trying to use the harsh terrain and weather of the desert to their advantage. They will fail, of course. Because we – are Atlas."

The moment Ghost finished his sentence, a powerful rumbling could be felt clearly at the bottom of their feet. The two immediately took this as the signal to regroup with their troops, so they quickly dashed away back to the camp in the far distance.

Here, at the foot of Mt. Glenn, a powerful gravitational Aura field began to crawl from the bottom of the rocks forming the foundation of the mountain. And slowly, but surely, the Aura would engulf the gargantuan mountain itself, stretching for miles wide, and reaching heights that could easily touch the stratosphere.

The rumbling got stronger with each passing moment. And once the overwhelming force of gravity was locked into the surface of the stone, the unthinkable began to manifest.

The mountain was being lifted off the ground.

At first, it was only a few inches at a time. But the pace at which the mountain was rising was controlled and steady. The immense force lifting this entire natural monument kept increasing in power with every passing moment, dominating the very weight of Glenn for the world to see.

The soldiers at the camp looked on in awe. The pilots on the airships far above were lost for words. And even many of the senior officers who were old enough to have seen almost everything this world had to offer, even those men and women could do nothing but stand there and take off their service cap, out of respect for the one and only being on this planet capable of accomplishing such a feat.

With the entirety of Mt. Glenn on her shoulders, Weiss would summon forth a strength unlike anything this world could ever hope to produce. Utilizing only a fraction of her full power, the Superman of Atlas carried this behemoth of a structure off, flying far into the clouds before tossing it straight into the dark depths of heavenly space. It took a mere few milliseconds before the mountain managed to disappear from sight, being dragged around like a mere child's plaything.

Sam and Rredd had arrived at the scene where the Atlesian officers and detectives had been surrounding this crater of destruction. Buried deep behind dark alleyways, the two of them were not even aware of the existence of this library before today. And here they stood over the burnt debris and crumbling bricks that dug straight into several buildings behind, exposing layers upon layers of destroyed pipes and electrical wirings all scattered around as the firefighters and officers worked to subdue the remaining source of flame from this explosion.

Walking straight through the holographic police tape, the two esteemed generals glanced about the area as they approached the investigating officers still digging through the smoldering bricks and concrete.

"General Vulf, General Williams," three officers saluted the moment they saw them approach.

"Report, soldier," said Rredd.

"Nothing on the security footage, and nothing conclusive from our other sensors. It's an abandoned building. Nobody's been here for a while, or at least that's what the record shows."

"This is a library?" Rredd asked as he flipped through the report files. "Is it state owned?"

"Privately owned, sir."

"Who's the owner then? Can they be contacted?"

"The owner died years ago, sir," the officer shook her head. "He had no family to speak of, no relatives. Frankly, we've hit a bit of a dead end."

"Williams!" Sam called him from afar, waving her hand. "Come and take a look at this."

Rredd nodded his head to the officers, dismissing them, before he ran to where Sam was investigating, crouching over a large section of a broken wall.

Peculiarly, there, stuck underneath the charred surface of the hard stone – was a bizarre green gooey substance.

"Is… that what I think it is?"

Sam nodded. Eyes now widened as the two of them realized who they were truly dealing with. Not wasting another moment further, Sam immediately stood up, walking away from the ruins as she spoke into her earpiece:

"Lieutenant, come in – deploy the Skyknights to the western front. It's urgent, the Superman will need the full might of Atlas. Send two suits to my coordinates as well, over."

The ancient peoples of ages past would often take days, maybe even weeks to traverse the massive lands connecting these continents. The vastness of the plains and the desert was not something that could easily be conquered by mortal men.

But in the modern age of machines and new power, the Atlas Empire now possessed the strength and stamina required to cross the plains and mountains, over hills and seas to then reach the border of the western Kingdom. Carrying the massive and heavy war machines alongside its troops, traversing the harsh terrain. In this current state – the entire trip will now take no more than a day.

The strength and speed of the Atlesian Empire were things that could be understood. What was much more difficult to explain, however, was the fact that the army of the West had managed to fully retreat back into their sandy worlds, implying that they were also operating at a similar level of speed.

Perhaps it was by the power of King Oz's magick that they were able to match the raw output of the cold Atlesian machines. Now that they knew King Oz possessed the power to travel between the cosmos, the fabric of space itself should not be a challenge for him to bend to his will if he ever felt the need for it.

That was something Weiss understood very much, flying far in the sky as the army followed down below. She realized the power of this God King was increasing with every passing day. Or perhaps the true revelation was the realization that perhaps the King had always been this powerful – and only now was he starting to show his hands.

There in the distant horizon, standing in the middle of a seemingly empty desert plain, stood a single shadowy figure in a hooded cloak.

Using her super vision, Weiss scanned through the cloak to find the face of a man with spiky green hair and pale skin. She did not recognize him, or perhaps she simply could not remember such a face. But there was a certain sinister invisible aura surrounding his very being that made her cautious approaching from above.

Landing in front of this lanky man, she hovered there a few feet above him, crossing her arms.

"Are you from Vacuo, stranger? Leave this place at once. I, Chancellor of Atlas, am leading the Empire into the West. I do not wish to harm you, but you have been warned."

Strangely, the man responded to the sentiment with a wild chuckle, removing his cloak, his grin was there on display for Weiss to clearly see.

He said:

"I'm disappointed you do not remember me. Five years really is that long of a time, huh? I would think you'd still have files on us fugitives."

Now with his face in the sunlight, a flood of memories came back to her. The man standing before her looked sicklier than ever, his pale skin and yellow teeth made him almost unrecognizable. But now that the light had revealed this oddly fiendish visage, there was no mistake about it.

"Oobleck, Chief Torturer."

"At your service, milady," he said as he bowed.

Far in the distance behind them, Ghost's platoons were a mere few minutes behind, approaching alongside the full Atlesian might of the Empire, carrying thousands of soldiers and Huntsmen on tanks, jeeps, and trucks. The airships far above were not far behind either, as were the numerous gargantuan aircraft carriers and dreadnoughts. Though, without Weiss' advanced vision, it would be difficult for a layman to see them all the way out there at sea.

And yet, even so far away, the atmosphere was burning with the militaristic rage of an immovable force of steel, one that had never known true defeat.

"High Chancellor, come in. Your orders, ma'am, over!" Ghost shouted into his earpiece as the engines of the machines roared in the back.

"She's over there," Oliver pointed his finger, "just standing there."

"Rear Admiral, come in!" Diamond's voice echoed through the comm system on the jeep they were driving.

"Give me a head count, Lieutenant General. How many troops are we dealing with here? Over."

"Sensors aren't picking up anything. Must be illusion magick interfering, over."

"No troops? Just the one man?" Ghost glanced around, scanning the desert.

"Something feels off. I don't like it," said Oliver. "I'm going ahead. The Chancellor may need our help."

"Oliver, NO!"

Before he could even stop him, Oliver had already leapt far into the sky, boosting himself in the direction where Weiss was standing, leaving behind a trail of powerful wind.

"Dammit," Ghost clenched his fist, before reaching for his earpiece, "Colonel Rhed, come in. I need you to scout the areas ahead, you're faster on foot than our war machines. Have a look around and report back, over."

"Roger that, I'll keep an eye on Oliver, too. Over."

And there, in the distance Ghost could clearly hear the rushing fiery sound of Lisa running through the sandy plain at a speed faster than sound, furiously lighting the sand on fire.

"You hear them coming, don't you?" Oobleck asked.

"You have a total of five seconds to tell me where Ozymandias is before I toss you into the sun," said Weiss.

Shockingly, to that, Oobleck simply responded by spitting in her face. She managed to dodge it with her speed, of course, but the furious rage in his eyes was apparent for her to see, burning beneath the scorching sun far above.

"The God King shall reign again!"

From beneath the surface of the sand came this strange green gooey liquid that shot out of the ground like that of an old geyser. The speed at which it traveled was ludicrous, faster than most things Weiss had come to know. But it was nothing compared to her own level of power. So there, without hesitating, she held her hand forth in an attempt to destroy this sickly liquid with her overwhelming Aura.

And yet…

The green gooey liquid remained completely unharmed by the crushing force of her gravitational field, as it continued to travel upward to where Weiss was floating – completely passing through her entire body, almost as if it were a spirit or a ghost.

Within seconds, the liquid would transform into a large blob to surround Weiss in all directions, not letting her escape from this bizarre substance that swiftly engulfed everything in her vision. It did not seem like this green liquid was doing any damage to her, yet. But she was not able to destroy it either on the account of it being intangible. There were no atoms that could be seen as she scanned the liquid, nothing to discern from the chaotic way it moved about.

And there, within just a mere few seconds – Weiss had disappeared.

"What the fuck?" Oliver shouted through everybody's earpieces as he dashed forth.

"Colonel Rhed, come in!" Ghost cried. "Status report."

"She's gone. The Chancellor's gone!"

"What about the man?"

"Still there, he hasn't moved an inch," she said.

"Diamond, deploy the Knights and Paladins at once, prepare the artilleries and airships. We need to be prepared for whatever comes next," said Ghost.

Far in the distant sand hill where Oobleck was standing, the man proceeded to reach inside his breast pocket to pull out a tiny golden watch. It pointed exactly at noon, the highest point of the sun, where the heat was strongest. Smiling, he put it back inside and got on one knee to place one hand on the sand below.

The ground began to inexplicably rumble, shaking with a force from a place and age unseen by everybody walking above. It almost felt as if the entire crust of the earth itself was a giant beast with its belly growling from a hunger spanning thousands and thousands of years.

And sure enough, from the sand came forth a growling evil creature too massive and almost too baffling to be considered real. So dense and heavy that its very existence seemed to be twisting the very laws of nature itself.

A giant scorpion – Death Stalker, disaster status: Kaiju.

Its two pincers sprang forth from the sand, easily the size of two entire airships on their own. And from behind, its gargantuan tail emerged to expose the grotesque golden stinger oozing with indescribable green venomous goo that hungered for the death of those who dared approach. Its white exoskeleton shined bright like a knight's armor, despite the dirt from beneath the ground, covering large parts of its black demonic body in a shell that seemed harder than steel, one that was almost certainly unbreakable by conventional means.

The mere rumbling of this creature felt like earthquakes, numerous giant legs like pillars sprouting from the sand to smash through the crust below. But in the end, what was most peculiar to Ghost was there beyond, up on a tall hill over to the western side of this desert – came shadowy figures obscured by the searing sunlight of their country. From the shades they now emerged, revealing themselves to the Atlesians the true might of the Kingdom of Vacuo.

The Sandriders of Coquina.

Elite scorpion riders of the West, making for the most powerful cavalrymen this world had to offer. And leading the pack was none other than the one and only Sun Wukong.

There he sat on top of a beastly brown scorpion, with his signature staff in his hand, he raised high into the sky light to pronounce far and wide the shout of a brave breath buried deep in the heart of the West:

"TODAY! We destroy the North! CHARGE!"

This musty dark tavern by the side of the road did not see many visitors in its days, and the reason for that was very much deliberate. Hidden away on a long winding abandoned road connecting Vacuo with Coquina. One would almost have to be searching for it to even find this old wooden shack placed behind rugged rocks and old roads that had not been maintained for years.

Inside the building was the owner of the establishment, who wasn't even working anywhere near the front counter. Instead, she sat there in the backroom on the wooden floor, sharpening her crimson blade with her one remaining hand.

For Raven's other hand had been taken from her at sea that fateful day, the one day she will never forget.

Sitting there in her undergarment wearing nothing but thick bandages coating the wounds on her chest, Raven let out a long sigh as she continued to meditate in this dimly lit room. The candles in front of her, though numerous, were still too weak to be a strong light in the dark, a saving light.

She held up her blade, trying to examine the sharp edge of the weapon. But what she found inside the reflection of the steel was the image of a figure standing behind her.

This was baffling to her, because she never saw the person enter the room, nor did she hear any sound alerting her of their presence. Instead, it almost felt as if this young man had simply materialized out of thin air.

Standing behind her, this young man held his gigantic mechanical scythe pointing the barrel of the sniper rifle straight down at the back of Raven's skull.

Smiling in the shadow, Rubio Rose emerged.

"Long time no see," he nodded.

Raven's expression remained stoic, hiding a serious sense of rage and self-defense, and yet, somehow deep down she recognized the person she was dealing with was not to be underestimated.

She knew that if they were to fight – the results would be catastrophic.

"Summer's spawn," said Raven. "Let me guess, you're here to learn about your mother, the God of the Hunt. Let me just save you the trouble and tell you I know nothing of the heavenly planes, so why don't you just kindly fuck off?"

"Sheesh, a simple 'hello' would've been better."

"My braindead brother may have taught you everything he knew, but you're still dealing with the Pirate God here. So why don't you be a good little boy or girl or whatever the fuck you are and point that rifle away before you hurt yourself, okay?"

"You know, even though we aren't related by blood, I've always wanted us to still be family. Uncle Qrow is family, so I don't see why you couldn't be."

"What are you implying?"

Rubio shrugged:

"Nothing. You were like an aunt to me, or a second mom, and that's the truth."

"So what? You want a kiss goodnight? Some allowance?"

"I'm just here for a little chat is all. You're smart enough to realize I'm looking for my mother. So why don't we just sit down and talk about your Semblance?"

The moment he finished his sentence, Raven turned her head around to face the young man. With her hand still clutching the handle of her sword, ready to strike.

Rubio continued:

"I just need to know what your portals can really do. It won't take long, I promise. Once that's done, I'll be out of your hair."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then we'll start fighting and I'll cut you in half in less than a microsecond, it'll be such a mess, though. Neither of us wants that. I can even tell you about my ability to see the future or how I can move faster than thoughts can travel, but you're not gonna believe me anyway, so why bother? Seriously, Raven. Don't be such a hard-ass. We're family, so throw me a bone here, okay?"