Interlude: Tin Man
Huntsmen and Huntresses dominated Argus, and it was with some semblance of happiness that James Ironwood, now Lieutenant General of Atlas' navy, watched the patrols sortie out from within the base's central viewing tower.
"So, you're here for a kidnapped child?"
Ironwood didn't roll his eyes at the disbelief in the tone of the woman behind him. General Sol was a thin woman, with a deep walnut complexion that saw through everything. Her closely set, jet-black eyes followed him as he turned.
"I am here for the most powerful pyrokinetic in current documentation."
Sol's eyebrows shot up, and she reached into her desk, a muttered exclamation hitting home a moment later, a long, fat Mistrali cigar held in her fingers, the woman casually produced a flame to light it.
"Still chasing that maiden myth then?"
Ironwood shook his head.
"No definitive proof of the maidens exists."
Hard grey eyes met jet-black ones, and Sol smirked, the tugging of her lips on the right side the only hint of emotion.
"Then tell me, what brings Mettle into my office? Because I don't believe for a second it's this pyrokinetic."
The thing in the skin of James Ironwood met the eyes of the general and smiled, a vicious, predator grin.
"You were always too good at figuring out when the man let me out."
She shot back, not missing a step.
"He should have had you suppressed forever. You're a monster."
Mettle didn't let the smirk fall from Ironwood's face as it spoke, laying a thick manilla folder onto the desk of General Sol Steele.
"Approximately 3 months ago, the huntress Summer Rose and an associate, known publicly as "Masque" or "Masque of Mistral" make an appearance at The Glass Unicorn, she is there, according to what she told Jimmy, for a criminal. Neither Wizard nor Lion sanctioned her trip, which, tied with their choice of hotel, is highly unusual, especially for huntresses who made careers by camping in the woods predominantly. In stark defiance of the grimm that roam."
Mettle paused as Sol quirked an eyebrow, her face falling.
"Wizard didn't condone this?"
It shook its head.
"No. His appearance in Atlas was as sudden as it was unexpected. He flew to Jimmy's office with little more than his confidante and nothing else."
"The witch?"
"Yes."
Sol frowned, tapping her cigar with one scarred finger.
"Continue."
"Prior information gathered from patrons of The Glass Unicorn likely indicates that the "Madame" of the establishment had ties to the Spiders of Mistral, and was invested in creating powerful servants for them."
Sol's face went from a frown to a thunderous look of rage.
"We shut those experiments down."
Mettle let its teeth filled grin shine.
"Atlas publicly renounces such experimentation, and vows to stomp it out, but the girl in question was well cared for by her prior standards. It is a documented fact that natural semblance unlocks are far stronger when the target of the semblance is suffering from extreme stress or anxiety."
"So they threw one to the wolves for data?"
"Three. Three children, two biological, and one adopted from the spider's contacts."
"Circumstances of that particular child?"
"Selected for the exhibition of extreme viciousness and sadism when pushed to the limit."
"Fine. So she triggered a semblance while Rose and Masque were there?"
"No. She triggered as a result of what Summer Rose said to her on the rooftop, the first time they met."
"How powerful?"
Mettle opened the small attache case it had brought with it and placed the nearly flawless reproduction of a collar on the table in front of Sol. The woman picked it up with scarred hands and studied it.
"Subject capable of manifesting heat in excess of 1700 degrees Celsius. Her semblance manifested total telepathic control over substances under its effect."
"So your little pet project worked, Mettle?"
Her tone was flat. Mettle's took on an arctic intensity as it replied.
"Partial success for the interference of Masque and Summer Rose."
Sol folded her hands, setting the collar back down on the desk.
"Subject's semblance triggered before she acquired aura."
With that, Sol's eyes widened, and the woman growled.
"Continue."
Mettle grinned, its teeth predator sharp and its smile full of plans. It had her.
"Semblances triggering without aura are incredibly rare, as you know. Less than one in ten thousand, if predictions are to be believed. It is believed that Summer Rose is one of them, while Witch is the second known to the public,with none of the significance made clear."
"Because of the theory that semblances come from the soul itself?"
"No. Because they tap into something else, existing footage of Summer Rose's semblance reveals that she does not lose momentum through her teleportations, and an as-of-yet-unknown force acts as an almost precognitive aid in her favor. She is quite literally, a step ahead of her foes."
Sol's expression turned calculating.
"All documented cases of this are on file, yes?"
Mettle nodded its head.
"Brown Regrie, Jax Asturias, Cyrus Arc, Alexander Nikos, Taiyang Xiao-Long, Raven Branwen, Summer Rose, Tyrian Callows, and Orchid Fall."
Sol stood from her chair, the motion taking clear effort as her damaged body, deeply scarred, hauled itself free, she moved to a cabinet, placed a palm on the door, and spoke a phrase.
"Council Matter, priority immediate, authorization Echo, Romeo, India, Niner, Three, Five."
She waited for a moment, and a needlelike scanner emerged and scanned the room. Another pause and heavy shutters dropped down over the door and windows. A moment later, a pleasant buzzing filled Mettle's ears as the voice of its host was drowned out. As five paneled screens slid from the ceiling above the windows, with shadowed figures already on them, it reflected on how pointless such anonymity was. Sol knew who these men and women were, as did Mettle.
"This is unusual, Sol."
The woman stood, leaning on her sword, and spoke quietly.
"Another one in ten thousand has triggered in our borders. Ironwood was giving me his report on the matter."
The figure trailed its gaze to Mettle, who stiffened under it.
"Continue, James."
The voice was warm, grandmotherly, and melodious. Mettle turned to face the screens and gently began.
"As stated, three months prior…"
One figure interrupted, placing a hand to their temple.
"This is the Glass Unicorn incident?"
Mettle sighed.
"Yes."
"We understand, what news do you bring of it?"
"As you are aware, one of the children of Madame was missing from the scene. The adopted one."
Almost masked, paper rustled from the figure in the middle.
"Yes."
"That child is our one in ten thousand. She has exhibited telepathic control over a heat based semblance capable of generating temperatures in excess of 1700 degrees celsius. She is currently in the company of Masque of Mistral, who is likely to be an alias used by the huntress Raven Branwen."
A pause, another shuffle, and a sip from the woman in the fourth panel. She said nothing.
"As you are no doubt aware, semblances from any user can evolve and undergo strengthening, but for certain individuals, that strengthening effect is vastly pronounced."
Nods.
"This child is a calorkinetic on par with Fria in the height of her powers, and she is 10 at best."
One of the figures started, raising a hand.
"You cannot possibly be serious, the transfer machine tore the spirit of Fria out before mingling it with the spirits of dozens of maidens by force! It destroyed her utterly!"
Mettle grinned.
"And it gave us a weapon of unparalleled destruction, at the press of a button, a weapon that is clearly reaching the end of its life expectancy. This opportunity is exceptional, we cannot allow it to pass us up."
Heads began to turn and speak, that was fine, Mettle had them. They would see that for the good of the many, sometimes the one had to be sacrificed. In this case, they had done it with Fria before and they would do it again. Atlas had to be strong, had to remain a standing symbol against the grimm and whatever dark force controlled them.
Wizard did not trust James, nor did it trust Mettle. Mettle considered this the height of idiocy, it was what was needed in many cases, to make the decisions that the man would have balked at.
Which was fine. Wizard could keep his secrets, Mettle was unbothered by such things, it would merely prepare more contingencies for when Wizard decided to either tell the truth or for when he turned against Atlas.
Several of those plans hinged on obtaining this child.
Once it had its Cinder, he would shape her into a true soldier of Atlas, loyal to the kingdom above all else, and capable, even, of putting a blade in his back-
Mettle reigned James in. His feedback was not required here, and the man only barely was cognizant of the role his Cinder would play.
She would be the perfect soldier. The perfect player and she would never disobey the kingdom. After all, Mettle was Atlas. It symbolized the city, the choice to use the relic of creation to sustain its flight, the choice to divert Jacques Schnee's airship into the Grimm lands, with rescue just far enough behind it that he would see how rich the area was.
The loss of the man's wife had been unfortunate, but it appeared to have galvanized him into never letting such a thing happen to anyone again. Mettle especially appreciated his focus on the faunus, on keeping them downtrodden and obedient.
Atlas had not been raised into the sky on the backs of willing volunteers, and a docile, obedient workforce, made to believe that Jacques was the monster, while James was the angel, would only serve Mettle's purpose better in the long run.
With the way the White Fang continued to escalate, Mettle felt only satisfaction.
Jacques was an excellent queen on its board, and the White Fang was, as always, thrashing around in the dark like animals.
Mettle chuckled inwardly, waiting with its back turned, facing out over Argus, and imagining that it could see to where its Cinder lay, perhaps she thought herself safe? Did she think herself secure in the grip of a mad bandit?
It would show her the way, and it would test her and break her and reforge her anew until she was Atlas in mind, body, and soul.
"After deliberation, we are giving you tentative permission to seek this girl out. But you will have no support from us beyond clandestine, and, we cannot allow any of this to go public. If they were to find out…"
Councilor Slate tried to be intimidating, but Mettle had never had the time to bother with the false screens he and his associates hid behind. They were politicians at heart, only concerned with staying elected to embezzle funds that Mettle pretended not to notice missing, and in exchange, they greenlit its special projects.
Such as the Silver-Eyed Scouts.
Such a shame that subject MC had died during the operation, but the data they'd extracted from her… such a wealth of information, it was how they'd identified the one in ten thousand, and her eyes… such potent weapons…
Even now, Mettle smiled, feeling the comforting weight of Due Process on its hip. The weapon was far, far more potent than it had been. The research that she had provided before expiring was only the beginning.
It was such a shame that Wizard was so greedy with the silver-eyed warriors of the world.
Perhaps Jacques would have had better success tracking them down and taking them in. Perhaps his contacts in the camps would aid him, Mettle was sure they could find more of those with the unique genetic makeup.
It wasn't as if anyone was capable of seeing why they were selfish to keep such rich secrets locked away in their genetics. At least… not yet.
They would learn, and they would understand when Due Process' more… esoteric modifications saw the light of day.;
"I understand, councilor."
The sharp intake of breath was worth the loss in connection from the councilors as they fled from any semblance of Mettle.
Sol rapped her knuckles against her desk.
"Was that necessary?"
Instantly, the cocky smirk and even grin fades from Mettle's face and it is serious by the time it turns to face Sol.
"They are politicians and they are not necessary to the plan. If I must, I would sacrifice any one of them to ensure my acquisition of Cinder."
Sol's eyebrow raised.
"She is that important? Truly?"
Mettle narrowed its eyes.
"General, I believe she is the key to stopping any aggression from our enemies ever again. The influence programs have made leaps and bounds, and effectiveness is now suitable to maintaining perfect control over up to a dozen individuals. The current spate of Ace ops are incredibly effective in their assigned roles.
"And fully loyal to Atlas?"
"They would die before betraying us."
Sol let her negative look fade to a degree, turning to face Mettle, no, James. Based on the bleary-eyed look he gave her.
"How did it go?"
Sol nodded once.
"That is a relief."
James Ironwood stood and moved to the window.
"Find an orphan in a city, an orphan protected by Raven Branwen and kidnapped because of her."
Sol didn't say anything, watching him. James Ironwood turned to her and smiled before he exited her room and moved throughout the base.
A single button pressed called a woman with brilliant green eyes and a vulpine smile to where he was.
"Tortuga, report."
Her tone was calm and quiet, snarky and filled with laughter.
"Target was sighted exiting a boat with her guardian yesterday, the crew have been detained for questioning, barring one "Diana" who evaded local LEOs with skill reminiscent of the fasttrak program at Atlas. But you knew that already boss~"
Ironwood let a small smile show on his face.
"So here's the actual info, Raven put out feelers into the criminal underworld, she's looking for Branwen agents, trying to spread something, perhaps important information? Back home. So far as we know, none have responded yet, but she's frequenting a tavern by the name of Corvid's Fall in the downtown sector."
"Her little demon-spawn has been seen twice. Both times on rooftops, she's sneakier than her guardian, by alot. Her aura control is also, leagues ahead of someone who still has the stink of a fresh awakening on them."
Ironwood frowned, studying the Ace-Ops resident aura expert.
"Fresh awakening?"
The woman nodded.
"Within the past month or two, not quite sure since I only got one chance and it was a fleeting look at best."
"Curious. So Raven gave her her aura late. Very late. Can you track her?"
"Look boss, I'm the best you've got, but this girl… you were right to push her towards us. She's really good, naturally talented, and keeps sticking to routes we can't patrol because of lack of manpower."
She didn't mention the lack of local enthusiasm for their course. Argus was technically a Mistrali city, and while the majority of its population were Atlesian citizens, its police force was deeply entrenched. Ironwood frowned, putting hands over his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment.
"Alright… I'll have to sit down and talk to their commissioner. Can you arrange a scroll call with the Lion? I need to talk to him."
Tortuga flashed that foxlike smile and spoke simply.
"By your command."
By the time he reached the bottom of the elevator, he was alone. Which was a good thing, given that his presence was needed for the next parts of the plan, elsewhere.
Caroline Cordovan was waiting for him in the courtyard, flanked by a pair of Atlesian Spec-ops soldiers. Their armor would have gleamed, were it not for the vicious black paint and heavy armaments on each one. Cordovan herself offensively dubbed the pint-sized pistol by Ironwood's colleagues in Atlas until her actions saw her for a swift promotion to Commander.
She'd survived, unlocking an aura and semblance of use, if not a significant power, James knew Mettle had been interested, then lost interest in her after finding out what her semblance was. Instead, the man waited as the Spec-Ops commander approached him and spoke quietly. A long, jagged scar under her neck gave a rictus-like quality to her lips as they turned up. Her voice was now a gasping hiss as she spoke.
"Did everything turn out alright?"
He merely nodded, before continuing.
"Tortuga is surveying the city and tracking our target, with luck, we'll have locations by nightfall and can begin planning raids."
Cordovan's smile slipped just a bit.
"James… are you sure this is a good idea? She's technically an Atlesian citizen, but I'm nigh certain she'll want nothing to do with us when she finds out we orchestrated her situation on purpose."
The woman's questions would have sent Mettle into an aneurysm. James, on the other hand, simply shook his head sadly, feeling phantom pains hit every nonexistent nerve in his shoulder down.
"No… I am unsure. Mettle is sure, and Mettle is rarely, if ever wrong. I just… I worry about what Raven Branwen will do."
Cordovan's lips parted into a grin that was all teeth.
"Let me handle her. The new Ace-Ops team is shaping up wonderfully."
"Oh?"
"Cadets Amin, Zeki, Bree, and Ederne are all excellent and capable members, and Ebi's leadership lets them land larger targets than even some of the best from Atlas Academy."
Ironwood smiled at that, beckoning Cordovan onwards.
"Performance on a high bend across the board?"
"Exceeding all expectations, they can beat me in 1v1's and as a team, even Zebra and Cardigan have been bested."
Ironwood looked to the man and woman at her side, and both stiffly nodded. The two were the best specialists that Ironwood had ever trained personally, and they had never lost their edge, something about the way their semblances worked. Even at his age, a respectable 36, he was feeling the beginnings of some strain, but these two still looked and performed as well as they always had.
Lucky bastards.
Their destination was an Atlesian Manta, brand new, the prototype fighter/gunship gleamed on the tarmac, and Ironwood felt the 8-year-old inside of him jump for glee at the sleek, beautiful vessel. The Manta was a prototype of the next generation, and a part of Ironwood could already imagine how fleets of them would completely change air doctrine for the military.
As Cardigan, the red-haired woman with a cocky smirk etched permanently on her face, took a seat behind the pilot's chair, Zebra took a standing position next to himself and Cordovan at the back of the pilot's cabin, facing into the open troop hold.
"How did Sol take it?"
Ironwood winced.
"You know the rumors, that she's…"
"Bark is worse than her bite."
"Yes. That. She's deeply conflicted. She accepts Mettle's reasoning, but it's messing with her head. We're fundamentally talking about a child here, an abused child who just had freedom offered to them in the grip of someone who could, quite possibly, end any threat she would face."
"Don't remind me. Raven Branwen… of course… and she's the spring maiden too…"
Cordovan's face flinched.
"Yes. She's a maiden, the utter destruction of the warehouses could only have been caused by widespread usage of silver eyes, or the elemental fury of a maiden. Given the lack of grey dust and disintegrated matter in the evidence… Summer Rose did not fire off her silver eyes."
Cordovan winced, visibly.
"They proved it?"
Ironwood nodded his head gravely.
"Yes. The power of the silver eyes, whatever it is, it's not what Wizard thinks it is. It destroys or unmakes matter on a fundamental level until nothing is left behind but grey dust that looks… frozen, under a microscope."
"Fuck."
The lack of decorum would have been punished by another's command, but James just nodded sagely. The implications were terrifying, and they explained, so, so much. The few silver eyed warriors were simply because the incredibly destructive nature of their powers destroyed everything in their path. Leaving nothing but grey dust. No wonder Summer had been so powerful, the woman had practically been a walking WMD.
"What's the plan?"
"For now? We hope that Summer's eyes, or wherever her body is beneath all that rubble, don't start firing off. If they do, we evacuate everything for a 15-mile cordon, and try our best to lock down the city."
"And the girl and Raven?"
"Use the Ace Ops to harry Raven towards me, or send her into the jaws of the white fang, if we can spin this to aid our cause in any way, do it."
Cordovan smiled, and Ironwood felt a twinge of guilt that he had to force to subside. He knew Caroline was a racist, but she was a competent, tactical commander and one of the best on-site, besides. He had Tortuga providing a semblance of overwatch and, in her spare time, serving as a mentor to both the Ace-Ops and the young Winter Schnee.
A/N: And so we reach the end of Arc 1, it's been a lovely journey to have with you all, dear readers~! As always, leave comments and the like, contemplating setting up a discord for this story, but we'll have to see!
Apologies for the short chapter, life intervened.
As said priorly I will be going on a hiatus to recharge the writing batteries and finish plotting out Arc 2, and so, barring me coming back earlier the next chapter will be going up on August 28th.
So long, and do enjoy yourselves!