"A blunder ought never to be perpetrated to avoid war, because it is not to be avoided, but is only deferred to your disadvantage."

-Nicollo Machiavelli, The Prince


"So, what, you want me to ransack some human's place? Is there a reason, or…?"

Percy snorted, emulating the typical behavior of the boy across from him. "The reason is because I told you to. If you'd like me to I'm sure I can have some papers drawn up about what a horrible racist they are and how they're oppressing your people. I won't even have to lie."

Adam raised an incredulous eyebrow. "You don't even know who they are yet."

Percy rolled his eyes. "They're a Mistralan noble, likely born before the color revolution. Does anyone fit that description that isn't a raging racist?"

Adam actually laughed. "Fair point, I get it. Just point me at a target, I've had enough men to take a city for a while now, but we've been having… logistical issues in the north."

"We'll have to talk about those before you leave. This is a bit more complicated than that, unfortunately. Your target will be near the top of Mistral, with a bevy of security. It's gonna take more than brute force, or Mistral itself will respond."

Adam nodded. "So, what do you propose?"

Percy looked at him weirdly. "You're in a… good mood today. I wasn't sure that was possible. But I can provide you with bullheads to air assault the villa. I doubt they have anti air defenses in the villa itself, and with enough men you should be able to get in and out before anyone from Mistral arrives."

Adam shifted, clearly uncomfortable with Percy's comment on his mood, even if he couldn't really deny it. "What do you want? Assassination? Full on assault?"

Percy's frowned. "Snatch the noble and any family he has, and burn the villa to the ground. Raze the thing. Leave any non-combatants alive." One or two White Fang guards around the room tensed. Percy let his gaze roam over them for a moment.

Adam, though, was less caught off guard. "Can do. How many bullheads do you have for us?"

"About a dozen, though I'd recommend a smaller force." Percy said, looking back at Adam. "They'll need a minute to refuel — I've had them running across the continent all day. But by the dead of night tonight they'll be ready, and I should know who's after me." Percy turned his gaze back to the guards around the room, jerking his head towards the two by the door. "Who are the girls? I didn't think you were in the business of child soldiers."

The two tensed, and Adam narrowed his eyes, his good mood gone. But there was a nervous posture to him, as well. He wasn't happy Percy had noticed them, but he was covering his nerves with anger. "They're my field agents. You don't need to worry about them."

Percy nodded, and then completely ignored him. "Sure. Huntresses in training? The reason you're in such a good mood? I guess they're not too young compared to you, but still—"

Adam slammed his hands on the table between them. "I said you don't need to worry about it." he snarled.

Percy's gaze remained on them for a few moments. "I'm not worried, just… curious." he turned back to Adam. "If they're responsible for your good mood, then they're fine by me. You don't have to worry about me getting too curious." he lied.

Adam relaxed slightly, leaning back. "I'll have my men ready by midnight." he stood up, nodded at Percy, and began walking out.

"Adam." Percy called, causing him to freeze in his tracks. "About those logistical issues."

Adam paused, and turned back. "Food and winter clothes. Atlas is… cold. We have enough weapons now, but we don't have enough money for food, coats, or boots."

Percy raised an eyebrow. "You're asking for more money?"

Adam scowled. "I'm not asking for anything. You're the one that asked."

"That's fair." Percy admitted. "You're not asking for more money, you just need more money to do the job you agreed to do."

Adam stayed silent, but Percy could swear he actually heard the boy gritting his teeth.

Eventually, he caved. "What more do you want? I've already given you everything I can."

Percy considered that for a moment. What more did he want? He'd be paying a hefty chunk of change to pay for the food and clothes of every White Fang member, and Adam had already pretty much sold his soul over to Percy, at least as much as he could while staying in line with the goals of the White Fang. He'd certainly be making his money's worth back, but there was no reason he shouldn't cut ties with the White Fang here and now, leaving them to die.

"Right now our agreement entitles I fund your weapons and you do me a favor when I ask, as well as giving me any dust you get. Let's change that. I'll pay for all your clothes, and all your food. But I want a private army. Here, in Mistral, 24/7. I want absolute control over the White Fang's actions. We have a common enemy in the SDC, and I'll be funding the entire organization at this point. It's only fair."

Adam looked down. "I can't do that. Sienna can still overrule me at any time, and she won't like having a large part of our forces relegated to your private army."

"Then we'll just have to find a way to make sure Sienna isn't a problem."

Adam's head snapped up. "Are you suggesting—"

"Exactly what you think I'm suggesting."

Adam swallowed. "I don't have enough popularity to do that. People wouldn't follow me. Sienna only lets me be where I am because I know how to fight."

Percy glanced down at his scroll, seeing a text from Shiro. He fought to keep the smile off his face.

"Let's change that. I'll fund everything you need. I'll have an accountant look at the bill to make sure you're not getting anything more than you need, but otherwise consider my support a blank check. I'll also help you gain popularity in the White Fang through a series of miraculous victories, but when you take over, the White Fang is mine."

Adam hesitated. "How will you get me these 'miraculous victories'."

Percy fought not to smile. "Now, that would be telling. Just know I can make you a legend. What say you?"

Adam slowly nodded. "Yours… within reason."

"No." Percy denied, and Adam's eyes narrowed.

"Not within reason. Mine. I'll be paying for the whole thing, and our primary enemy is the same. The SDC won't be going down for a long, long time. And as long as they're around, we have a common greatest enemy. Atlas will hardly be happy that I'm helping you either, and within time your enemies will become my enemies, and vice versa. Our goals align."

Adam glanced around, looking for anything to help him but specifically avoiding looking anyone in the eyes.

"Do we have a deal?"

Adam nodded reluctantly. "Fine. We have a deal. I'm going to prepare my men." he stormed out of the room, his guards following quickly behind.

Percy pulled out his scroll, now alone in the room.

"Hey Shiro. I have a first task for this newly acquired spy network of mine. I need you to find everything you can about two girls for me…"

.HR.

"What the hell was that Adam!"

Adam shushed Blake harshly. "Don't say anything. Not now. We can talk about this when we get back."

Blake shared a glance with Illia.

Illia shook her head, and Blake just sighed, following behind him. What had gotten into him?

.HR.

"Will you tell me what that was now?"

Adam kept silent until they reached his tent. He glanced at the other two guards accompanying them. "You two can go."

With a quick salute, they both left.

"I don't have time for this." Adam said, ducking into his tent entrance, Blake and Illia quickly following behind him.

"What do you mean you don't have time for this? You just agreed to— to hand the White Fang over. To a human!"

Adam scowled, then thought better, and his expression turned into a resigned frown. "Alright, Blake. If you need me to explain this to you I will."

Blake put her hands on her hips. "Yeah, I kind of do."

Adam glanced at Illia. "Leave us. Tell the senior staff to meet me in the command tent in fifteen minutes."

Blake shook her head, stepping in front of Illia. "She deserves to know too. She's as much a part of this as I am."

Illia shook her head as well, resting a hand on Blake's shoulder from behind. "It's fine Blake. I trust your judgement. If you think it's alright after hearing his explanation, that's all I need."

Illia let her hand fall, nodding at Adam and leaving the tent.

Adam walked over and turned on his heater, sitting on a foldable chair, nodding towards the other to invite her to do the same. She stayed standing, staring at him expectantly. With a defeated sigh, Adam began his justification.

"We need that food, and those clothes. We're losing money, and we can't support anyone in the White Fang. Without his funding we're dead in the water. We don't make money off of anything, and in order to hold up our initial deal, we needed those supplies anyway. Powerful people don't take kindly to people going back on deals with them."

Blake crossed her arms. "We're losing money because you're giving all of the dust we take to him."

"Which barely pays for the tens of thousands of weapons he's given us." Adam countered. "And if it weren't for that deal, we wouldn't be in the position to steal dust anyways. Can't you see we're years ahead of where we would be without his help? Sienna couldn't have even taken control this early without his funding. He already owns us, Blake. This just makes it official."

Blake scowled. "He's manipulating you— manipulating us. I don't know why you can't see it."

"Of course I can see it, Blake. Of course he wants profit, he wants power — that's all people like him want. But he wasn't wrong about us having a common enemy. And within time, all our enemies will be the same. As long as those things are still true, we can use him, even if he is using us."

Blake shook her head. "And what about when he decides we're no longer valuable enough? When — when the SDC pays him off to betray us."

Adam looked at the ground. "Then we'll deal with that when the time comes. I don't know how we'll deal with it but I do know that we'll be in a better position than we are now. We don't stand a chance against someone with his resources at the moment, and even if we did we'd be dead the second we cut ties. We don't have a choice, Blake. I don't have a choice."

Blake pursed her lips, sighed, and nodded. "Okay… Yeah, okay. But what he said about Sienna…"

Adam stood up, moving to her and cupping her face in his hands. "It'll be a good thing for the White Fang, trust me. Sienna's a politician, but she doesn't know what it means to fight. We'll be doing all of the work while she sits in Menagerie and reaps all the spoils."

Blake glanced away from him, refusing to meet his gaze.

Adam turned her head to look at him again. "Hey, it'll be alright." he leaned in and kissed her. A few seconds later he pulled back. "We'll talk about this more later, but right now we have to organize a raid."

Blake nodded, letting out a long, resigned sigh. "Alright. Let's go."

Adam walked out of the tent, and Blake moved to follow behind him. Adam knew what the best course of action was — she trusted him.


Percy sat alone in his office in a single cushioned seat, for once bereft of a drink. The lights were off, the only lighting coming in from the setting sun through his single, solitary window. He allowed himself to reconsider his path once more. He'd decided to commit, but if he kept moving without even thinking about his actions… he might become a villain before he even knew it.

He leaned his head into his palm. He had convinced himself that there was no going back months ago. That once he took the Alpikos gang, that was it. He was in this game.

But that… wasn't true anymore. He could go to Vale, he could settle down and work as… who knows. A bartender. Find someone he could actually spend his life with, settle down and live the peaceful life he'd always dreamed of.

But if he did this? If he attacked one of the most powerful families in the world, razed them to the ground? He would never be able to live without looking over his shoulder again.

He'd been debating it for some time now, since he had gotten back from his meeting with Adam. Would his friends back home want this for him? Would they think his actions were justified? Did it even matter?

"Am I making a difference yet?"

Percy spoke to the open air, not sure if what he was trying would even work.

"Is the world better than it would be if I weren't here? If I continue on this path, will the world be better?"

"That depends what your path is. You forget I'm not omniscient when it comes to you."

Percy glanced up from his hand, seeing Monty sitting across from him.

"If I help the White Fang, if I look for the relics, if I unite humanity enough to combat Salem."

Monty shrugged. "That depends on whether or not you find the relics, mostly. I'm going to be honest, I've changed my mind about you. I have a plan, I've set things into motion, and I don't want them disturbed. And yet… You change things up. I find not knowing what's going to happen next enjoyable. It feels good to be the viewer rather than the creator, for once."

Percy's eyes widened, and he straightened. "Does that mean you'll let me make real change?"

Monty shrugged. "I think so. It depends on what you do. Some things… some people are off limits."

Percy swallowed. "Can I… know who those people are? So I know to stay clear of them."

Monty smiled. "No."

And like that, he was gone.

Percy sighed. While that was both worrying and relieving, it still didn't help his original conundrum.

Percy's scroll beeped, and he glanced over at where it was sitting on the table.

He reached over and grabbed it, reading the message he had been sent.

Reports of dozens of bullheads taking off from Mistral. An agent in the Junia family says they're mobilizing to Windpath.

Percy closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. And then he texted back.

Mobilize the police and every enforcer we have left, call curfew, and make an announcement to shelter in place. I'll be there personally. Stay out of the fighting.

Slipping his scroll into his pocket Percy briskly walked out of the door.

He didn't bother with waiting for the elevator, making his way down the stairs, passing one or two men in suits running up and down the stairs. Presumably they had just gotten the alert.

Shouting started from all over the building, men running to grab their guns and run to the walls.

Percy cursed himself for not having some sort of widespread aquifer built around the city. Even a moat would be incredibly useful at the moment. But they were a coastal city. He would have the power of the ocean behind him. He hoped news of his 'semblance' being water manipulation hadn't gotten out as common knowledge quite yet.

If it hadn't, it would after this battle.

He walked out the front door, holding a hand up to stop the evening light cutting directly into his eyes. Shaking his head, he hopped in the nearest van being loaded up with enforcers. A couple wide eyes were shot his way as he climbed his way into the back of their pseudo-SWAT van, but nobody said anything.

Seconds later they were on the street, sirens blaring despite the fact that they weren't technically police. Half a dozen other trucks followed behind them, cars clearing the way for them as best they were able in the mid-day traffic. Percy closed his eyes, calming his frantic nerves. The separate universe had done nil for his ADHD.

Soon enough the truck screeched to a halt and Percy hopped out, straightening himself out as he came to at the south end of the city, facing towards Mistral.

Exactly where he needed to be.

Jogging over to the wall, Percy quickly climbed up the stairs to the top. What he saw… didn't surprise him. They were already in sight. They were very far in the distance, sure. It would be a couple minutes before they got here. But they were closing fast.

Percy winced as a gunshot rang out next to him, and then several more. Police and enforcers alike had lined up on the wall and began shooting at the bullheads in the distance.

"Hey!" Percy called, waiving his hands. "HEY!" A couple of the men stopped firing, looking at him to see what he was on about. "Stop shooting! You barely have enough ammo as it is. Don't waste it on reinforced bullheads, much less miles away."

The man he was talking to looked a little disgruntled, but ordered his men to stop shooting all the same. Percy shook his head. He already had less ammo than might be ideal because he'd been demilitarizing in an effort to save money, but this certainly didn't help.

Percy looked up and down the wall, quickly walking towards the harbor. It would take some time for him to actually walk there, — longer than he had — but just being as close as possible to the water would help.

Percy was almost half way there by the time the first bullhead was within the distance where it could start firing on the city. By then almost the entire defense of the city would be in range. Percy started pulling on the water as hard as he could, gradually moving mass sums of it across the ground towards where he was. He made sure it was flat to the ground, spread out over a wide distance so that it would be less noticeable from the air.

To his minor surprise, the bullheads didn't begin firing once they reached close to the city. In fact, the first few didn't land either, continuing deeper into the city.

Percy cursed. He had more guards covering Malachite than the rest of the city combined, but he still wasn't sure it'd be enough for whatever tricks they would pull.

Percy shook it off, turning back to the remaining bullheads. He had to secure his city first, then he could worry about Malachite.

He continued to pull water from the ocean, even as most of the bullheads landed and sat down Percy didn't show his hand yet. As much as he doubted it, if he could win this battle without showing off his powers…

He bided his time, and sure enough when the dozen-odd bullheads sat down and opened their doors, it was a bloodbath. Every officer and enforcer on the wall opened fire, Junia men dying by the dozen. It reminded him of 'Saving Private Ryan' and the other World War 2 war movies he had seen. Percy winced. Hadn't they… developed a better way of assaulting since then? There seemed like a dozen better ways to do this sort of thing.

That was the difference between Earth and remnant, he presumed. Remnant, from what he could gather, really hadn't had a modern war. The last one had been almost a hundred years ago, before guns were really a thing. The faunus revolution had been fought some time before dust had truly risen to prevalence. Because of that, no army (or person) on remnant had even fought in a real war, and nobody had truly seen what even a semi-modern war could entail.

Except Percy.

He looked around the battlefield, noting several things which appeared obvious to him but which might not be to someone who had never actually used guns in a war.

Using common sense born from hundreds of years of earth's history, he knew that landing right in the middle of a field with little cover and charging at the city was not a good idea, he also knew that if they had some bullheads in the air right now the battle would be over in about twelve seconds. He also knew that nobody was coordinating any of their shooting, leading to awkward pauses in gunfire where those assaulting could leap out of cover and advance almost leisurely.

Percy cursed. He'd never fancied himself a tactical mind, but if this is what his men looked like maybe he'd take command next time. He never realized how much he took for granted common knowledge on earth about basic military tactics like rotating reloads and air support coordinating with a ground assault. For once he wished he'd paid more attention to Annabeth's lectures.

Percy shook his head. He didn't need his powers for this. His men would have this more than easily enough.

Turning around, Percy leapt off the wall and hopped in the nearest van, driving quickly to the prison he knew Miss Malachite was being held at. Now all he had to worry about was her escape.

He pulled out onto the streets and sped through them as fast as he could, turning on the sirens as he did, driving like a madman.

A few seconds later he was stuck in traffic, the gridlocked cars doing their best to get out of his way but unable to. Percy cursed, slamming his palms on the wheel.

This was taking too long.

Slamming the door open, Percy hopped out onto the street and began sprinting full tilt towards the police station. He could hear intermittent gunshots from the station, and sped up to as fast as he could risk without hurting anyone.

Percy skidded to a halt outside the police station, taking the stairs 3 at a time and launching himself through the door into the lobby.

"Ah, Perseus." Miss Malachite stood over a cooling body, pistol held in hand. A dozen men surrounded her, some police and some Junia men. Every one of them had a weapon pointed at Percy. A couple stood out as possible huntsmen, and Percy made sure to keep an eye on them. "I think it's time we talk about that price you were mentioning. You did take my spy network, after all. It's only fair you pay a fair price." she narrowed her eyes "I'll take your life."


Well this was short. And low quality (at least the last half of it) My apologies, this week has been stupid hectic, I managed to write like a thousand words in the last 7 days. Hopefully next week is calmer so I can write a longer/better chapter.

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