And here we are yet again with another new chapter. Man, I really do hope I can keep up this new consistent pace of mine. Really helps that this fic is something I'm genuinely pumped for and my laptop has a much better battery life than my old one, which is what really handicapped me the most back then with previous fics.

…Which honestly feels kind of bad of me to say considering how burnt out I felt towards the end of Age of Adventure. Honestly, that fic of mine really did deserve better, but RL events at the time amongst burnout in general kind of had me stop the plot when I did. Though to be fair, I could just be feeling this regret due to how much extra content/lore the Shadow of the Erdtree DLC brought to the table.

…Perhaps one day, I could do a sequel to it but that idea is one that will have to be put on the backburner for quite some time.

To say nothing of the epic(?) idea I now have for a Silent Hill fanfic too…

Now then, actually focusing on this fic.

I'll be honest yet again, I feel like I might be taking something of a risk here. In this chapter, Salem will be the primary canon character along with some snippets of other characters getting up to some… mischief, let's call it. Oh, make no mistake, Ozpin is the MC of this fic and it will stay that way, but Salem will also be playing a very big role in the story hence me focusing on her not just in this chapter but later on in the plot too.

Plus, well, Ozpin being headmaster means that he doesn't have the leeway to personally go out and about to confront threats directly. This kind of handicaps me in how much attention I can put on him right now since his sections would mainly consist of him coordinating things between his inner circle and carrying out his duties to Beacon/Vale. And while politicking can be pretty fun if done right, that is not something I feel confident enough to pull off. But rest assured, once the plot progresses some more, he will be getting the limelight that he deserves. Same thing goes for his allies as well.

So, with that said, hope you can bear with me until the fic reaches that point.

In the meantime, please enjoy this Salem-focused chapter along with the other sections.

Now then, let's begin.

Chapter 4 - Cradle

Salem sat in her conference hall, naturally at the very head of the table. With one arm placed upon said table, she used the other to hold up a letter, which she's now reread for the fourth time or so.

Slowly putting it down, she eyed Watts, who'd stood at attention just several feet away.

"And this is the only thing our 'guest' had on her?" she asked.

As of a few minutes ago, she'd been made aware of her unexpected visitor, courtesy of Watts who'd come seeking her with quickened steps. Though he'd done his best to hide it, Salem had centuries of experience seeing through facades… and she was able to see through his as easily as she could breath.

The good doctor was scared, terrified even. That was not something she saw every day. Not even she has ever managed to strike such fear into him, though to her own credit, it wasn't as if she went out of her way to assert her position over him often, or even at all. Watts, for all his confidence, even arrogance, had always known better than to elicit a negative reaction from her of any kind.

Getting back on track, he'd come to her with this very same letter in hand, written and spoken aloud just outside her castle by their unexpected arrival – Alisa, the young woman was apparently named. Watts had spoken with her for but a few minutes before coming to her and waited almost anxiously until now.

"Aside from whatever weapons she's undoubtedly carrying? Yes," he replied slowly. "…What do you think? Shall I fetch her for you?"

Salem lightly tapped the conference table, deep in thought.

The timing of this was suspect, too convenient. That wasn't even getting into how this Alisa and her group – the one named Cradle of all things – even knew of her in the first place, hinting at connections or investigative skills at least that far outstripped most people's.

And that they actually wished to help her as well… that, more than anything else, was the most suspicious thing of all. It felt too direct, or rather too freely given, as if her agreeing to this wasn't entirely necessary to their greater goal but would certainly be a boon. Though the letter didn't actually state anything like this, this was the impression Salem got from this little… speech.

…However…

"Yes," she said. "Go and bring her here. If nothing else, I'd like to see for myself the sort of person willing to come this far into my domain."

While it was confusing how this group learned of her existence, Salem was not so prideful as to think herself truly untraceable, especially not in the past when she'd only barely started out learning how to play the long con as people would call it now. The advent of technology had also been something of a learning curve for her, but it was one that she'd come to master in due time, aided by agents of Watts' caliber to handle the learning process for her. So with that in mind, it was possible that this Cradle group had somehow stumbled across some clues that led here akin to breadcrumbs.

And as for why they wanted to partner with her, well, that was something she could better ascertain when meeting this person.

…

It took several minutes for Watts to go and retrieve the woman. And once he returned with the one named Alisa in tow, Salem sat with perfect grace befitting of a regal queen… only for her eyes to narrow dangerously the instant she even laid eyes on her visitor.

The young woman's appearance was rather striking, her trained yet fairly curvy physique meaning she could serve well as either a warrior like Hazel or a honey trap like how Cinder was sometimes required to act like… save for the woman's shaky and nervous expression, a contrast to the image she'd give off otherwise.

Behind her, Salem could make out what looked like a pair of swords, shorter than average, but the clearly mechanical components to them meant there was naturally more to them than meets the eye.

But this Alisa's appearance was of a little importance to the ruler of the Grimm.

No, what had grabbed her attention instead… was the very presence of Alisa.

It was like some kind of aura almost, different from how the people of this era would describe it yet just similar enough that it could be mistaken for it. It was aura, yet it was not… that would be the simplest way it could be put and this mysterious air to Alisa was ebbing and flowing from her like waves along a coast, affecting everything that made contact with it.

"…" Salem made an indescribable sound as she noted how the aura worked over her. The effect was microscopic, all things considered… but that it had an effect on her at all was worthy of attention, especially since Salem now couldn't help but feel alert around the vastly younger woman.

But the effect was far more severe on Watts, the man looking just minutes away if not seconds from collapsing out of sheer terror. His skin was clammy, his fists tight, and his jaw set so rigidly that it looked like it was made from stone. His constant glances towards her made it clear that it was only her presence that kept him from outright fleeing the room.

Salem's gaze flickered between the two of them until she finally decided it was time to speak. "So you are Alisa, yes?" she began candidly enough, though without even a trace of kindness. "I must say, it was rather brazen of you to come all this way. Admirable, but ultimately brazen."

She watched intently as Alisa flinched. That flinch wasn't an act, the young woman truly was a skittish sort despite what her appearance would indicate otherwise. Interesting, especially given the reaction her aura caused.

"I-It's an honor to meet you, great Salem," Alisa greeted, bowing her head for a moment. "…Uh, I take it you read my letter?" Now she sounded bashful.

"I have. The contents, while brief, were interesting," Salem replied. "…As I believe should be obvious, I am not one who can be so easily discovered yet here you stand nonetheless. And with an offer that frankly sounds odd to me. I trust that you will elaborate?"

"O-Of course! I'll do my best!" Alisa stood at attention now.

Salem waited patiently.

Alisa stood and stared.

Watts, seemingly recovering himself now, harrumphed.

Salem continued to wait.

Alisa looked ready to shake.

Watts sighed now, clearly aggravated as whatever effect Alisa's presence causes now ebbed away for the time being. "…We're waiting on you to explain," he said harshly, his patience shot to hell thanks to the emotional pendulum he'd been forced upon.

"A-Ah, my apologies," Alisa mumbled, using a single finger to play with the nearest braid in her long hair. "I just thought I'd respond to inquires as best as I could rather than risk going on tangents…"

Salem quirked an eyebrow. This young woman was an odd one to say the least.

"Let us start with your group then," Salem began. "How many members are in this group?"

"Uhm, just three… including myself," Alisa replied.

There was a pregnant pause. Then Salem continued. "Why name your group Cradle?"

"Because… well, the goal is to make a brand new world," Alisa answered. "…It's what my leader wants to do. I came up with the name myself since I figured it suited that goal perfectly. The others approved."

"And just what kind of world does your leader wish to make? And why?" Salem now demanded with narrowing eyes. This woman's attitude was irking her now.

At those two questions, however, a change of sorts overcame Alisa. She closed her eyes and held a closing fist to her chest. She looked at peace.

…No, she looked… hopeful for something.

"…A world where everyone knows what they want and can achieve it," she uttered softly. But there was an earnest admiration to her tone too, a longing. Skittish as she may be, Alisa was undoubtedly a true believer in this cause. "He – we – want that for a new world because it's what we want for ourselves as well."

Salem's narrowed eyes slowly returned to a calmer state as she took in those words. That goal was still incredibly vague, but she couldn't help but feel trying to press Alisa for more details would be futile. After all, judging by that last statement, it seems like this Cradle group – more like a trio – was still in the process of figuring things out themselves.

On its own, that would put Cradle in a bad light. Even the White Fang, insipid and deluded as the organization has become over the years, at least has a concrete goal of vengeance against humanity for the discrimination the Faunus have suffered. In comparison to that, Cradle's goal was too ambiguous still.

However, there was a genuine commitment to that goal in Alisa's gaze and tone now. But more than that, the fact Cradle not only knew of her but even had Alisa approach her spoke volumes of the lengths the trio would go to achieve this new world of theirs.

Alas, getting more specifics out of Alisa would be fruitless, Salem felt. It'd be best to talk to this leader instead to possibly get more details.

Time to switch focus then.

"A lofty goal. And just how precisely does this alliance your letter propose fit into it all?" Salem now stood, hands delicately clasped in front of her as she approached Alisa slowly.

Alisa snapped out of her thoughts and looked Salem in the eyes now, the meekness fully gone due to the seriousness of the situation finally hitting her in full. "Because you want the Relics."

Salem's eyebrows shot up at that response. Knowing of her existence was one thing, but the Relics were a very different matter altogether.

Alisa continued. "And to that end, you need the kingdoms destabilized enough for either your agents or even you yourself to search for and obtain the Relics. Cradle can help you achieve that goal much more quickly. And by aiding your group, we benefit as well since it will force several key individuals out into the open. For us, meeting these people and forcing encounters will help us further develop our new world… or rather, our understanding of what it means to create that new world properly."

Salem could only stare, reevaluating Alisa completely as well as this Cradle group.

She'd thought this all a farce with how Alisa had acted at first, to say nothing of her initial responses. But now this changes things considerably.

Salem glanced over to Watts, who was looking rather gobsmacked himself. The man returned her gaze, silently looking for any instructions.

Salem gave him a microscopic shake of the head, effectively telling him to stand down for the time being.

Focusing back on Alisa, Salem continued her questioning. "And these… individuals you seek. What makes them so special to you?"

"…Because they're like me," she replied. "People obsessing over something but not knowing what that 'something' truly is. All we know is that there are some people in this world that may hold the key to this dilemma for us in one form or another. But these individuals we are seeking… unlike us – Cradle – they are… well, they're simply going through the motions in a way. Acting on pure instinct alone and it's leaving them stagnate. We want to change that and in so doing, maybe help change ourselves as well. It's all part of a process that my leader feels is absolutely essential to our goal."

…Once again, Alisa answered vaguely. On the immediate surface, that answer would suffice for most people… probably. But to Salem, it still left several questions in its wake.

Just what made these particular individuals so noteworthy compared to everyone else? Were they something akin to Maidens? Or did they possess some other characteristic or even multiple characteristics that were otherwise not common? And just how did the short-term goal of changing these people help Cradle achieve the long-term goal?

Her questions only grew in number, but she didn't see a need for the moment to press them. As things stood, Alisa's answers would continue to remain vague. Whether that was because the young woman was more cunning than she let on or if her leader was keeping her in the dark on certain details was unknown, but the truth was irrelevant. This topic has run its course.

"…I take it, then, that your intention of helping me comes in the form of your aura?" Salem asked.

For some reason, her question made Alisa smile delicately. "So you truly are resistant to it… that's good," she whispered before continuing in a louder voice. "That's correct. My… particular 'ability' can instill intense feelings of terror and other negative emotions in all lifeforms around me, no matter what form of life that may be. Anxiety, despair, even rampant berserk fury at its most potent… I can cause that simply by existing."

At her brief explanation, Watts grimaced and started to slowly back away.

"And its effective range?" Salem pressed.

"Well… I do try to keep it under control since it's not something I want on all the time," Alisa murmured, even tapping her fingers together. "At its lowest range, I can suppress it to just within my immediate vicinity… but at maximum range, around a few kilometers."

Watts immediately froze in his tracks, looking conflicted about what he should do.

"…You mentioned me being resistant just a moment ago. Does that imply a weakness of some kind?"

Alisa shook her head. "Not a weakness per say. Those with strong enough wills can resist the effects to some degree. Same goes for those who possess some traces of magic such as yourself. And of course, having both of these things makes one especially resistant, though to be fair, I am trying to hold back the majority of this effect."

So Alisa – and the other two members of Cradle by extension – were also aware of magic… did that also mean as well… that they know of those damned gods…?

…More questions to require answering, Salem silently noted. But not from Alisa. No, she truly would need to force a meeting with this leader of hers instead to get what she sought.

Humming, Salem spoke. "That certainly is an interesting ability you possess… It would be of great use indeed in riling the kingdoms up."

Alisa looked hopeful. "So then…?"

"I will accept your offer of an alliance," the ancient magic user declared. "I believe I don't have to state, however, that I do expect you and your allies to live up to expectations now?"

Despite all the vague answers received so far, Salem would be a fool to refuse. Although she remained fully confident in her ability to triumph over an obstacle given her immortality and magic, letting this Cradle run around outside of her control would be the height of idiocy given the information they've somehow gotten their hands on.

Best to watch them from up close rather than from afar, so to speak.

Her words had a huge effect on Alisa, who practically vibrated in place from joy. "I- That's- thank you very much!" She stood at attention not unlike a soldier. Given the Atlas military jacket she wore over her shoulders, perhaps there was more to that posture of hers than just an odd fashion statement. Watts will have to look into that later. "We won't let you down!"

"…If nothing else, you aren't lacking in spirit," Salem commented, now mildly amused by the woman's reactions. "But with that said, might I suggest taking your leave for the time being? As my other agents are currently out on assignments, attempting to coordinate already would be an impossible task. And I imagine it'd be best for you to report to your allies as well first."

"O-Of course! Uhm… so, when exactly should I return…?" Alisa questioned.

Salem looked to Watts, who sighed quietly upon being sighted. "…I can fetch a burner scroll from my stache, if that would so please you. It's been modified to have an extension so that it can connect with other burners I've made despite the lack of a nearby CCT system. When the other agents signal their return, I will send a message to your scroll to coordinate from that point onwards."

Not bothering to wait for a reply, Watts took off to get the scroll, leaving the two women alone.

"…I don't think he likes me very much," Alisa muttered.

"He's hardly what you would call a people person," Salem replied flatly.

Alisa laughed quietly. "W-Well, yes, that does seem to be the case. Still… it's understandable he doesn't like me. My ability is undoubtedly responsible for that."

"…I take it you had a hard time forming connections with others?" Why Salem felt the need to inquire about this aside from a need to make small talk, she knew not.

Alisa nodded. "It's why I'm… well, it's why I am the way I am as you've noticed." She sounded apologetic. But then her expression grew hard, determined. It actually took Salem a bit by surprise. "And it's because of this… that I need to know why this is my burden. My… purpose. And I'll do whatever is within my power to achieve that goal. I swear to you, lady Salem, that my allies and I will live up to your expectations and more."

Salem remained silent for a moment before finally deciding to reply. "Then I shall look forward to what you three can do."

…

A few more minutes go by before Watts finally returns with scroll in hand. After doing so, Alisa was given an unceremonious sendoff by Salem herself.

The woman in question watched quietly as the Grimm refused to even glance at Alisa, the young woman walking away from the castle without a care in the world for her own safety.

"Far be it from me to criticize your decisions," Watts spoke from beside her. "But was it truly wise to accept her deal? I understand the need to monitor this Cradle closely, but even so…"

Salem accepted his comments without issue. "Better to have them eventually placed under my thumb than to potentially go against me in the future and delay things. And it would be the worst case scenario now if they were to approach Ozpin and assist him against me. That said…" She looked to Watts. "You've taken precautions?"

Watts' signature grin finally made its grand reappearance. He pulled out his own scroll and gave it a little shake. Currently on screen was a map of the whole land, Alisa's burner scroll pinging regularly. "Wherever she may go, I will know. So long as she doesn't catch on, of course. But given her apparent naivety, the discarding or destruction of my scroll shouldn't pose an issue."

Salem smirked. "Good."

With this, she could at least rest easy knowing there was at least one way of keeping tabs on Cradle through Alisa. And if it ever came down to it, so long as Alisa doesn't realize what had happened, Salem could have Tyrian and Hazel stage an attack to take out Cradle if they proved too troublesome in the long run to have around.

She couldn't predict what the future had in store now… but whatever happens, she vowed to come out on top. She's struggled for so long to achieve her goal and now in this era it seemed like things were finally about to go her way.

Like hell she'd let some upstarts get the best of her.

Alisa walked through the Land of Darkness with only her own thoughts to keep her company as was usual when not with the others.

Normally, she was quite the mopey young woman – or emo as Eva was prone to calling her, no doubt.

But this time, she walked with head held high and chest thrust out, feeling accomplished. It'd taken quite some time to finally get this far, but it was finally happening.

Taking out the scroll Watts had given her, Alisa lightly took a portion of it apart, exposing the tracking chip hidden inside. Confirming its presence, she put the scroll back together and tucked it back into the jacket pocket she'd first placed it in.

That was when she took out the other scroll she had – her own.

With it, she typed up a brief message:

'It was a success! The Girl in the Tower accepted our proposal! :D'

She paused, deleted the smiley face emoji and then replaced it with several hearts instead. Satisfied at expressing her elation properly, Alisa sent the message to her allies – no, her friends, the only two she truly had in this world.

With a skip in her steps now, she trekked onwards.

Soon enough, there will be a shift in Remnant. And that will be when things truly begin.

Vacuo.

Once upon a time, it had been a true oasis with vast bodies of water forming lakes and ponds and with lush jungles as far as the eyes could see.

Alas, humanity happened. For all their virtues, humans were prone to self-destructive actions just as often… and through their own hands, Vacuo had been reduced to little more than a wasteland, a vast desert where only the strong could survive while weakness was not tolerated.

But despite how harsh the land had become, life had continued to flourish in one form or another, proving humanity's tenacity.

Aside from the city of Vacuo, the kingdom's capital, there were a series of settlements throughout the entire region of Sanus. Though these settlements were nomadic in nature, able to up and move places with little fanfare, there were some locations that remained consistent in placement – that is, typical watering holes such as taverns and small casinos, where people could mingle and lose themselves to vice.

And tonight was no exception.

Within one particular tavern located not too far from the city of Vacuo that acted as a waypoint of sorts, it was proving to be a rowdy night indeed. The occupants, often drunk and prone to fits of either laughter or violence depending on the circumstances, were currently making merry. Raucous laughter could be heard even from well outside the tavern, some burly men off in the corner throwing almost playful punches at each other as they drank and shit-talked at a rapid pace. It wouldn't be long before the playfulness ended, however, and the punches really started to fly.

Meanwhile, other occupants played poker or other card games, each one trying to scam the other and grandstanding needlessly for the hell of it.

Only a small handful of people remained otherwise calm within the veritable chaos.

One of these people was a young woman, currently seated at the small counter the tavern had, drinking away so quietly yet enthusiastically that her long auburn hair, with a shocking pinch of silver to it, swayed with every gulp she took.

Finally finishing her drink, Carmine Esclados slammed the mug down. "Ah, now that's much better!"

"First time in a while I've heard you knock back a drink like that," spoke the other calm person in the whole place, the bartender. "The boss had you and Bert running around that hard?"

Carmine eyed up the bartender in mild curiosity. She's actually known the guy for a while now, the man having joined the Crown several months back.

To be perfectly honest, he cut a rather striking figure. At a little more than six feet in height and with a lean but clearly defined muscular build that his stylish black button-up coat snugly clung to, Valentino here stood out. While aura sure helped people resist temperatures to a degree, the matching black pants and boots he wore along with his coat and gloves did seem a touch insane, but all the power to him for wearing it, she supposed.

But more than just his outfit, Valentino's naturally dark skin, complemented by his relatively short and wild blond hair with oddly red undertones, stood out more what with how smooth his skin was in spite of Vacuo's less than hospitable climate. Combined with the sunglasses that he never seemed to take off no matter what, well, the man sure did draw the eye at times.

It helped too that he always was shockingly suave and cool despite giving off the appearance of someone who'd rather be on his lonesome. If anything, the man was a hell of a smooth-talker without ever seeming anything less than professional and calm, making him seem a little older than his late-twenties appearance would already suggest.

It made dealing with him simultaneously a delight and unsettling, if only because Carmine was used to being able to unwind when not on the job.

"Like you wouldn't believe," she grumbled. "I know it's all for the kingdom's future and all, but sometimes I wonder just how much work is necessary to make this happen, you know?"

Valentino, in the midst of cleaning some mugs, could only respond with a sedated smile. "Never took you for a whiner in any form. Unless it's 'whining' in bed, I suppose."

See that? That right there was what throws people off when they meet him. He looks all cool and professional like some kind of spy right out of some stupid movie from those other shitty kingdoms, but then he'll say shit like that and prove he truly does belong with the rough and tumble group that lived here in Vacuo… only a hell of a lot more presentable.

Carmine huffed as she silently beckoned for another mug. "I don't whine for anything or anyone, Vale," she responded, calling him by a little pet name. "Just stating the facts is all I do."

"Oh? So Bert being an asshole bigger than the sun is a fact?" Valentino quipped as he finished cleaning the mugs and began to prepare Carmine's next drink. "Or sand being a more preferable drink to some of Argento's personal mixes?"

She rolled her eyes but was still grinning. "Not literally, you jackass. Damn, I swear your sense of humor is all over the place sometimes."

Valentino huffed. "Whatever helps lighten the mood is my motto, especially with how dreary recent times have been."

At that, Carmine grumbled. "Yeah, don't remind me."

Recently, a string of viruses that haven't been seen for a generation or even longer have suddenly started to pop up. It's made her job a bit more difficult since people were now isolating more to ward off catching the revived illnesses and diseases from ages past. Taverns like this place were exceptions, but by now it was the Crown's stomping ground, so the chances of coming across anyone with strong semblances was pretty low now.

But that was why Valentino was here as a bartender. With Carmine and Bertilak out there combing the lands and doing whatever other odd jobs that were required of them, Valentino could remain here in case of any interesting rumors popping up. In other words, the man, thanks to his approachable demeanor, was their little gossip hen that reported back anything of note.

Alas, with the current state of Vacuo, chances are that soon enough even taverns like this will start to see less customers unless the council, inept as they are, somehow manage to get this emerging crisis under control.

"How about this to make you forget," Valentino quipped as he placed a fresh mug in front of her.

Her smile returned and she downed the drink as quickly as she could. Her spirits lifted, Carmine now laughed. "That's much better!"

A ping went off – a scroll.

It came from Valentino's, apparently, for the man casually stopped what he was doing to pull out the scroll from inside his coat and looked at it. Through the reflection on his deeply tinted sunglasses, Carmine could see he'd received a message but the angle meant she couldn't actually make out the words.

"What, you got a side piece or something?" she joked as Valentino smirked at whatever the message was. "And here I thought I was special in your eyes."

They weren't together at all, it was just a joke that had somehow developed between them ever since they met.

"Maybe," Valentino replied. "But you always will be my number one, Carmine."

She laughed. "Well doesn't that just make me feel special. Shame I got to cut and run though – duty calls." Her stop at the tavern was merely a break between jobs rather than an actual night off for her. "If your side girl is asking for a special something, make sure you don't disappoint her like you do others."

That sounded like a rather harsh jab, but it was yet again another small joke between the two, no hard feelings meant. That's just the sort of humor that happens out here.

Valentino, watching Carmine place down some lien for her drinks, briefly went over Alisa's short message just now.

Adjusting his sunglasses, the man let out a short chuckle.

If Salem had now fallen hook, line, and sinker for their ploy then that meant it was high time to start getting truly active.

He was quite looking forward to it.

Out in yet another corner of the tavern, one of the men laughing paused to let out a cough instead. Though he didn't know it, he'd just gotten a brand new virus just now – one that would make the other ones currently active look mild in comparison.

Taking note of this, Valentino's chuckling continued a little while longer.

He was looking forward to this indeed.

Back in Vale, in one of its classiest hotels ever, Veratyr lurked. He wasn't one to care much about where he spent a night at, being perfectly at ease staying in literal shithole if the occasion called for it. However, this time around, he'd used another significant portion of the lien he's accumulated throughout the years to rent the hotel's most luxurious suite for the time being. It was the only place that had the room for what he wished to do right now.

In this case, training.

With his blade in hand, he slowly went through a series of strikes that have long since become muscle memory, the length of the sword making it impossible to train in a standard hotel room. Currently shirtless, the muscles of his upper body flexed and twisted with each motion made as he transitioned from a downwards slash to a spinning slice and then to an upwards swing and so on and so forth.

He's been at this for a few hours now, the man working his body slowly and methodically. Combined with compressing his own aura within himself and making it act as extra resistance, what he was doing was akin to training underwater only on a vastly higher level due to how immense the compression was within his own body. It made for an interesting way to improve both his overall flexibility, strength and endurance all in one.

This was something he did frequently. However, this time around, it was different.

With a hum in between each set, he recalled with perfect detail the brief battle he'd had with Ozma, known in this day and age as Ozpin. He envisioned every movement the Beacon headmaster made down to the slightest detail and he adjusted his exercise accordingly, acting as if he was reliving the battle. Only this time, he was adjusting his motions to better perfect them and see what possible ways he could have countered at least some of Ozma's attacks.

As he'd said to the man himself, learning was something he very thoroughly enjoyed. Indeed, every time he's ever fought anyone in his life, he always took the time to imagine how best to improve from the experience, his opponents serving as unknowing teachers in the process. This is how Veratyr, self-trained as he is, had managed to come this far in terms of skill – by observing how his foes, veterans of combat, did things and adapting certain details to his own movements.

The results have always been splendid, his movements becoming sharper and stronger as a direct consequence of his efforts that bordered on absolute obsession.

But while this fact in and of itself was not different from any other time before, what was different this time around was who he'd gone up against.

Ozma. The man who's lived countless lifetimes, accumulated centuries if not millennia of experience and it had showed. The ancient warrior's – hero's – movements had been absolutely perfect, not a single iota of energy wasted no matter what the situation had been. It was a level of body awareness and control that blew everyone else Veratyr had ever met out of the water.

It truly had been an enlightening and humbling encounter.

…Ah… encounter.

At that particular thought, Veratyr smiled brilliantly. Though this had been something long in the making, he was nonetheless glad at how things had turned out. He knew it had been best to approach Ozma himself rather than arrange for a more indirect method.

Alas, as incredible as the experience had been, he knew it could be much better. Ozma was a weary man, understandably so. It was truly saddening to see how beaten down he's become over the course of his existence. He supposed the merging effect between him and his hosts didn't help with that either.

But that was partly why he was doing all this – to help him out, to relearn his purpose and hopefully make their encounters in the future all the more rewarding for both of them.

And speaking of the future.

Finishing up his exercise, he set his blade aside and undid his ponytail. As his extremely light blond hair fell loose, he went about gathering some soap and a towel to take a shower. It was rare for him to work up a sweat no matter how much he trained, but tonight was one of those precious few exceptions despite him still having plenty of energy to burn off.

But as he did all that, Veratyr took a brief moment to check out his scroll, which had pinged at some point during his training. Seeing Alisa's cutesy little message was enough to elicit a chuckle from him.

Looks like everything was going according to plan so far. With him having made contact with both Ozma and Eva while Alisa did the same with Salem, all the major factions involved were now on a collision course with one another. Better yet, while his fellows more or less held all the cards in terms of information, Ozma and Salem alike were operating on only partial intel. As far as the former knew, he only had to worry about Salem and the group that Rya had put together, the one that Eva was a part of. Meanwhile in Salem's case, although she was now aware of Cradle, she was still oblivious to Rya's group.

This should lead to quite a shakeup pretty soon. The benefits of being unknown really were spectacular. Not making use of their anonymity while it lasted would be a true waste.

Still, once Eva properly makes her move, that will really force Ozma and his allies into taking action. From there, Veratyr doubted that Rya's group would remain hidden for much longer, especially given how… excitable they can be once worked up, something that Eva's actions would surely accomplish. And when that happens, it probably wouldn't be too long afterwards that Ozma learns of Cradle as well.

However, by that point, it'd be too late for him to do anything to truly derail his plans. Even if he did somehow do so, well, Veratyr was always one to adapt. Besides, he still had several cards to play, one of which being Valentino. By now, the man has likely begun to spread several new viruses throughout Vacuo. That should keep Ozma's forces busy for a while, long enough to allow Rya and the others to really spread out and enact their own 'plans' against Ozma and Salem alike.

And no matter how that turns out, Veratyr and his friends stand to benefit.

After all, in the end, it didn't matter who would 'win' or 'lose.' All that mattered for the time being is that he continued to learn and discover…

…Until he finally figures out what kind of being he should be.

Sending a short but encouraging reply to Alisa's message, Veratyr moved with just a bit more speed to get ready for the night and day ahead.

Things were about to get very lively in Vale.

And done.

Hope that Salem's train of logic in her section makes sense to you. Being an unkillable magic user, she should really have no reason to actually fear or even worry at all about Cradle aside from how they could possibly interfere in her plans. While she literally has all the time in the world to win her war against Ozpin, she isn't exactly interested in suffering setbacks.

And on another note, hope you like both Alisa and Valentino. I tried to make them interesting in their own little ways, ways that will be explored more as this fic progresses. And in the latter's case, to be perfectly honest, I all but completely copy/pasted his appearance from Nigel (Punishing Gray Raven), just with some modifications here and there to his design, minor as they are… for now, that is.

Veratyr himself also gets a bit of the limelight here and his section touches a bit on how he's been able to successfully pull all this off so far. Being such a small group that's been operating slowly throughout the years, Cradle is something that neither Ozpin or Salem could have really seen coming despite both of them having such extensive resources. As such, Cradle's general anonymity gives the trio an advantage in this subterfuge warfare for the time being, but once that anonymity disappears, so too will this particular advantage. Hope that makes sense.

Anyways, I had quite some fun writing this chapter, which practically wrote itself in each of the sections. This is a good sign for me of how much I'll enjoy working on future chapters, and especially certain ones that I already have a few surprises planned for. May said surprises also be just as fun and even mind-blowing for you all.

Until next time, everyone. Take care.