"History is littered with wars which everybody knew would never happen."
-
Enoch Powell


Eight people sat around a boardroom table. They were all dressed in nice clothes — ironed suits, crisp ties, pristine business dresses — but most were clearly rather dreary.

The window making up the entire left wall of the room showed it was pitch black out. The glimmering lights of Atlas lit the city even now, the bright, pale lights of the board room — one of the only lights on in the tall tower they met in — only adding to the cacophony of illuminants.

The far door of the room opened, and each of the occupants made to stand. They did so with a wide array of varying haste, but none of them reached their feet.

"Please sit, that's not necessary." the Chairman interrupted, entering with two men and making his way towards the head of the table in a quickened walk.

The occupants settled back into their chairs, directing their attention to the Chairman as he moved to sit in his seat. One of the men who had entered with him went to stand at his right shoulder, while the other sat at the far end of the table.

"Now," the Chairman spoke, rapping his hand on the table. The sound of the ring on his bony finger echoed through the room. "Some of you may have heard why I've called you all here at such an early hour. There's no point in faffing about, so I'll be blunt. We've found Perseus."

Nobody interrupted him by muttering to their colleagues, but many around the table shuffled in their seats.

"And by found," he continued, "I mean we know who he is. What he looks like. Ordinarily this would be a significant development, but what makes it worthy of us all being here tonight is just who else this Perseus masquerades as." he nodded to General Ironwood, who held a tablet in his hand.

Ironwood tapped the screen, sliding it towards the middle of the table. Above the tablet, a hologram of the face of Percy Jackson appeared.

This time, the occupants of the room did mutter to their colleagues, as if to confirm what they were seeing. Percy Jackson was far from an unknown name among the higher society of Atlas, but he wasn't quite universally easily recognized either.

"It was hardly my first guess either." the Chairman remarked coyly. "But the credit for discovering his identity does not belong to myself or even General Ironwood and our military. It was Mr. Schnee who was able to prove his theory to us. If you would care to show everyone everything you told me, you have the floor Mr. Schnee"

Jacques, bone-weary and tired, stood from his seat. How the Chairman was able to treat the situation with such levity he wasn't sure, but he didn't share the sentiment.

He took a moment to gather his bearings before speaking, clearing his throat and swallowing. He had to fight his muscles to swallow, the faint nausea at the back of his throat having not gone away since he'd had his fears confirmed earlier that morning.

"I'll spare you all many of the details." Jacques began. "Through working closely with Percy Jackson, I'm in a unique position to notice many inconsistencies which would go unnoticed by others. Rather recently he revealed a rather… suspicious level of knowledge about aura and grimm. Having decided to look into it, I noticed a number of coincidences. Circumstantial evidence. How the only weapons producer on Remnant would benefit greatly from Perseus' actions, the unexplained amount of resources Perseus and Percy Jackson both were able to acquire, and more that I've had detailed in this paper." he held one up. "This is the only copy, to make sure it did not fall into the wrong hands either before I could prove it, or if I ended up being wrong. But just a few hours ago a trap was sprung."

Jacques paused to take a sip of water, thinking carefully of how he wanted to phrase his next words.

"I've been working with chairman Wolke in Vale," — a few around the table shifted uncomfortably. Those that had been given the news, doubtlessly — "and including Chairman Feuer and General Ironwood during the entire process." He didn't mention that the Chairman had let the General know without telling him, and so now he had little choice but to trust the man. "The basis of the plan was that Wolke would give Percy Jackson reason to think Wolke would soon act against him in a personal manner, and then a short while later I would anonymously attempt to strike personally at Perseus. If I was wrong, Perseus would foil the attempt, Percy Jackson would be slightly paranoid, and nothing would happen. If I was right and they were one and the same, then the attack would be attributed to Wolke. Several days ago Wolke did his part — Percy Jackson was on edge for an attack from Wolke. Several hours ago, I did mine. The result…" he leaned forward, pressing a button on the tablet in the center of the table.

The tablet began to scroll through headlines showing Wolke dead, of the raids on his supporters, of the conspiracies and allegations against the deceased Wolke and many of his colleagues.

"Wolke did not die of natural causes — he was killed just hours ago. Just hours after our provocation. Perseus discovered our agent, and acted as he would only if he were Percy Jackson."

"Thank you," the Chairman interrupted seven impossibly vast seconds of silence later. "Thank you Mr. Schnee. You can sit." Jacques did, but the Chairman didn't pause. "Now, I know it's quite an early hour for such a discussion, but we are in quite a pickle here. So, let's hear some ideas."

The room remained silent.

The Chairman waited patiently for several long seconds before speaking again, "I see. Well, I suppose we should make sure everyone understands the nature of the problem here. Does everyone understand the situation we find ourselves in?"

Silence.

"Very well. All of you understand, then. That means the reason nobody's saying anything is because nobody can think of a single conceivable way out of this mess. We just… lie down and take it. Is that it?"

More silence.

"Well surely, someone has an idea. Peter-"

"We declare war." Peter, the youngest in the room being in his early forties at the latest spoke, interrupting him. "Cut all ties with Perseus and Mistral. Deploy our military. Sweep through the north of the country and attack Perseus' forces head on before he can respond. Today."

Silence only reclaimed the room for a few brief seconds more before the Chairman responded. "Can we even do something like that?"

All eyes were on Ironwood.

"Yes," he said slowly, "We can leave today, but our airships are slow moving. It'll be a day or two before we even reach Argus, at top speeds, without any interruptions from grimm. On top of that we're actively both fighting grimm and running exercises. Many of our ships and bullheads are undergoing repairs. We'd need a few weeks for everything to be ready. If we leave today, we'd not only be leaving half the fleet behind, but none of what we do leave behind will be combat ready. Atlas will only be defended by our anti-grimm defenses and some infantry garrisons."

"We have to move today." the councilman from before said. "There's no other option. The public will have to be told about what we've learned. They'll know we knew as of right now, sitting in this room, and know that from this moment we were indecisive and refused to take action."

"I'd rather we have slightly upset citizens than dead ones." Another member of the council spoke up. He was older than Peter, but not by all that much. "We can't afford to leave Atlas undefended."

"It won't be undefended, Gott." the Chairman interjected, "We don't have the airships to carry everyone. We'll have to leave soldiers here."

"A garrison." Gott bit back. "Of men and women with rifles against either the forces of darkness or the Mistrali army. Or maybe both at the same time, if we're particularly unlucky. It's too risky, Feuer."

"A risk we'll have to take."

"Is it? And what if there's a grimm migration? What then? You better hope we defeat Mistral because there might not be an Atlas when we get back."

"Atlas will survive." Feuer dismissed. "It's the best defended location on Remnant even without our fleet. We'll place the remaining garrison in Mantle."

"And risk them being overwhelmed by grimm?"

"What risk?!" the Chairman snapped. "What risk, Gott? Because from where I'm sitting it looks like all the risk is in sitting around and doing nothing. Major migrations only come by the cities once in a decade. If we win this we can be back in a week."

"And if we don't?"

"If we don't what? If we don't succeed in defeating a nation of starving peasants and nobles resting on their laurels? If the military we prize so highly is defeated by the Kingdom still trying to figure out how computers work? Then perhaps Atlas deserves to fall."

Gott's lips curved into a bitter scowl. "And what do you think, General? Do you think we'll have such an easy time?"

Ironwood felt the room's attention shift to him once more.

"Mistral has been building up, but we can defeat them decisively if we take all of our airships," he said flatly. "But the risk of Atlas being left undefended is a real one. Even Vale has huntsmen to defend them. All of ours will be in Mistral. Even if I had the extra weeks, if I flew half the fleet out to Mistral we'd be less defended than during any of our lives."

"Nonsense." The Chairman scoffed. "We didn't have any of these warships or drones or even turrets just a couple decades ago."

"But we did have another three million men in uniform." Ironwood countered. "We've cut back heavily — and I do mean heavily — on active personnel. We've been focusing on quality over quantity even before my time. And quality does work, on grimm especially well, but the fact remains if I take half the fleet to Mistral while the other half is here and inoperable, the garrison will be the equivalent of a heavily armed police force. If we wait so that I can leave some ships here, it'll be better but not by much. We don't need a major, once in a decade grimm migration to cause damage at that point. A large pack of Sabres at the wrong place at the wrong time could pose a serious threat to a large part of Mantle. And that's not even considering the potential difficulties of a campaign in Mistral or the lives lost."

"And how often does that happen?" it was Peter that asked this time. "The grimm pack thing, I mean."

Ironwood shrugged, "Every few months? We don't bother tracking most of them anymore."

Peter and Chairman Feuer shared a look.

"Thank you, General." Feuer said dismissively. "Now, I believe we've heard everyone's perspective. I think all there's left to do is vote on our next course of action. All in fa-"

"Hold on," Gott interrupted. "We're missing members. Where are the others?"

"The others were not asked to come here, Gott." the Chairman said. "According to Mr. Schnee, Perseus has great influence within Mantle's politics. Considering recent events, I'm inclined to take him at his word. We're not sure how much, but we can't risk this being leaked before we're ready, or our vote being affected by foreign subterfuge."

"You can't just exclude council members from a vote because you have suspicions, Gracieux. You need two thirds of the council to declare war."

"On the contrary, I can call a vote so long as more than half of the council is present. And I see more than half."

"You're stopping three council members from even attending this meeting, and all three are from Mantle. How do you think their people will react?"

"It's a problem we'll have to deal with as it arises." the Chairman attempted to placate the man. "Right now, Perseus and Mistral are the problem. We've just discovered that the supplier of every weapon in the world is actually the person that has been waging war on us for years, and you're worried about appearances?"

"If you do this, if you hold a vote without the representatives of most of our people here to declare war based on information most of us have had mere minutes to process, it won't matter whether or not we win because Atlas as a democracy will have ceased to exist."

"Be that as it may, I have no other choice." Chairman Feuer told him, leaning forward to meet him eye to eye. "Now Gott, I need to know that you're with me on this."

Gott took a slow, deep breath. "My loyalty remains where it always has. With Atlas."

The Chairman looked away, disappointed, but continued on all the same.

"I call it to vote. Councilman Peter moves to declare a state of war with Mistral and order the military to move overseas immediately. All in favor?"

Two hands in the room remained lowered.

"Opposed?"

Gott's hand lifted into the air, while Ironwood remained still.

"Of the nine votes present, six aye, one nay, two abstain. We've achieved two thirds. The motion passes."

Peter looked across the table to Gott, smiling faintly.

"General Ironwood, I think it's best you begin preparations immediately." the Chairman said, standing from his seat. "The rest of you may go. Stay alert, there may be emergency meetings called. Gott, if you would?" he looked at the man, gesturing to a side room. Gott stood slowly and followed him in, while the rest slowly dispersed.

Ironwood dragged a tired hand over his face. This — all of this — was madness. He had to admit war was… perhaps necessary, now. But to jump to it as an option so hastily was nothing short of foolish. They could win quickly, and likely would, but what would victory mean? Removing Perseus — which Ironwood was still trying to register was one of the people who had gotten him elected as general — was not as simple as it sounded. Show up, potentially kill thousands of Mistrali, kill or arrest their leader, and then… what? Leave them to the nobility? Occupy them? There wasn't a way that there would be no fallout to this.

But there was no other choice. Ironwood couldn't defy the will of the council. To do that would be to be a traitor to Atlas, it would be treason. Any half-way measures on his part would only make things worse. At times like these, he had nowhere to go but forwards. Times like these required Mettle.


Bzzt

Percy grunted as he took upwards of 200 pounds of metal and teenage girl on his forearms, heaving forwards to toss Pyrrha backwards into a roll. But of course he never got the chance to take advantage of her position, because a moment later he threw himself backwards to avoid a gauntleted fist aimed for the side of his head.

Sweeping his left leg forwards even as he moved backwards, Percy grabbed Yang by her arm and pushed her lightly to aid her momentum just enough that she couldn't help but to trip over his leg and fall unceremoniously to the ground.

Bzzt

Annoyed to cut this short, Percy decided to at least get the sisters out before ending preemptively. He began stalking forward with Riptide poised to strike at the downed Yang, just waiting for the response he knew it would elicit.

Sure enough Ruby came sweeping in from his left at lightning speeds. Percy adjusted Riptide to his left hand side and felt a harsh impact the next instant, the sharp 'crack' of Ruby's gun echoing through the woods as the round it fired ricocheted into the grass several feet away.

Not even a second later she was in front of him, scythe-sniper mid transformation into a saw-shotgun.

Bzzt

Percy didn't give her the chance, leaping forward with an aggressive overhead slash and catching her off guard with his own speed to react.

Her weapon — now a shotgun-saw-thing — was in place to block, but Ruby was just not strong enough to take the mountain of force crashing down onto her. As soon as her balance was compromised Percy dashed a foot past her to where her sister was getting up, heaving Riptide from where it was positioned from his overhead slash into an underhanded swing which met the hunched over Yang directly in the midriff.

Her aura was relatively large, but already having been damaged meant the swing was a fatal one. At least, as far as the spar went. Riptide's momentum carried through and lifted Yang over a foot into the air, but Percy didn't wait for her scroll to let loose the shrill 'beep' that would signal her aura was low before he flipped Riptide's grip and reversed the swing, carrying it right back into Ruby, who herself was hunched over from his assault just fractions of a second ago.

He made sure to hold back. She was younger than the other two girls for one, and her aura was the weakest of any of them, for another. The blow he'd just delivered to an already hurt Yang would carry all the way through a completely fresh-faced Ruby.

The lighter swing landed as expected, and Ruby was tossed onto her back with an 'oof' as her scroll began beeping itself.

Bzzt

Percy wasted no time, spinning to his left to get out of the way of the javelin that passed through where his head had been a moment earlier at blistering speeds, carrying the spin through and putting all of his strength into a front-facing kick that landed directly on Pyrrha's shield and sent her stumbling back a handful of feet.

Stepping back himself, Percy held a hand up to ask Pyrrha to give him a minute. She looked confused, but backed off all the same. When Percy pulled out his scroll, though, it was clear she knew why he'd asked to pause.

But in the meantime, Percy was… pleasantly surprised to find himself breathing a bit heavy. Sure that had been mostly due to Pyrrha and Tai's teamwork — he took a moment to send the man an apologetic glance where he sat to the side of the field nursing an ice pack to the side of his head — but it had been fun.

When Percy saw the contact that was calling him, his good mood was diminished but not ruined.

Ironwood.

Percy really didn't mind the man, but they weren't exactly friends — they didn't do social calls. If he was calling, it would be to hop on Percy's ass about delayed weapons shipments. Or, he considered briefly, something to do with Wolke. That was still happening, and arrests of Wolke's confidantes were still being carried out even now into the next morning.

Stepping away from the clearing, Percy tapped the 'answer call' button and waited for the face of General Ironwood to appear.

"Ironwood." Percy greeted the man as soon as his face came up on screen. He was — as usual for their periodic calls — sat professionally behind his desk. But judging by the stoic frown he wore, Percy would hazard a guess he wasn't in the best mood. The bags under his eyes were a good indication he hadn't gotten much sleep last night, either. So, probably Wolke then.

"I won't mince words." The irate general replied flatly. "Perseus, this is a declaration of war."

Percy felt a layer of… calm wasn't the right word, but… acceptance, wash over him. Understanding.

There was the spike of blood pressure, the palpitating heart, the sudden need for a bit more oxygen, and the rapid rush of adrenaline, his body reacting. But internally he just… knew what had happened, and had come to terms with it years ago. He didn't know how it had happened, exactly — probably a last message from Wolke before his death, or something of the sort — but he knew it had happened. It was out. They knew. He'd known this moment was a certainty for a long, long time now.

That didn't stop his hands from shaking until he was forced to clench his fist so tight that he started cutting into his aura.

"War's going to kill a lot of people, you know. Hurt a lot more. There's other ways to go about this."

He figured it was an exercise in futility to try to negotiate, but what was half his life so far if not pointlessly hoping against hope and somehow coming out alright.

"The council has decided. As much as I might wish it, no possibility remains other than war."

Percy would have sighed, if he'd had enough control over his respiratory system to keep it from coming out as a stuttering whimper. Instead he took a deep breath, masking it as frustration at Ironwood's response rather than an attempt at controlling his breathing.

"Let's agree, at least, to avoid civilians." Percy said slowly, carefully registering every syllable. "There's no reason to involve them."

"I will do what I must."

And with that bombshell, Percy's scroll went black as Ironwood ended the call.

Making sure he was well out of sight of the field and behind a tree, Percy promptly bent over and emptied his stomach on some roots.

Sorry, Juniper. He deliriously thought to himself. I know it doesn't taste very good.

Several unpleasant seconds later Pecy straightened, pushing off from the tree. His body could react one way, but his mind would react another.

Rinsing his mouth with some moisture from the air, Percy turned on his heel and began heading back to the Xiao-Long manor.

He didn't even wait until he was back to pull out his scroll and shoot a quick text to his bullhead pilot to get ready to leave. He received a short confirmation and shoved his scroll back in his pocket. He needed to call Shiro, but he had something to take care of before that.

"Hello!" Pyrrha waved to him, the only one of those remaining in the clearing (besides her mother, of course) who hadn't been beaten into the ground before Percy had had to call it short.

"Everything okay?" she asked him, apparently noticing something was off. She tossed him the water bottle in her left hand as she spoke, a water bottle Percy caught and dropped to the ground.

"No."

Her eyebrows drew together in concern. He wasn't usually all that forthcoming when things weren't at their best. "I'm sorry, is it something I can help with?"

"Yes." he said, surprising her. "It is. Stay here, on Patch, with Tai. You'll be safe here." he'd keep Patch's agents on high alert until the war was over. That might be months — years, he dreaded to imagine — but he'd keep them here all the same. Send a handful more soldiers, too, and he could probably even send another huntsman or two. Not like he could use them in the war itself.

"Percy, what's going on?" she asked, voice tinged with concern.

Glancing around quickly to make sure that nobody was within ear-shot (Tai and his girls were busy resting and icing up, while Helen was looking at them but sitting a bit too far away to actually hear anything) Percy almost went to kneel on reflex before realizing that no, he didn't actually need to kneel down to speak to Pyrrha eye to eye.

"Pyr, the man that was after you went after you because of me. Because I failed. I'd been trying to keep my identity secret but I failed, and now you're in danger. The person that found out who I was told… Well, pretty much everyone who I didn't want to know. They're coming for me and now I need to go. You'll be safe here. I think… I think they just went after you to catch me off guard. But you have Tai, Ruby, Yang, and everyone else here on Patch. You'll be away from the war. Just promise me you'll stay here and stay safe."

"I want to help." she told him. "I know you want me to stay safe, but I'm almost old enough to go to an academy! I can be as useful as any other huntress, I promise! More, maybe, with my semblance. You can't ask me to sit on the sidelines if someone is coming to hurt you."

Taking a step to close the distance between them, Percy sighed and brushed a lock of her bright red hair out of her eye. She went to flinch back as soon as his hand moved to touch her hair, but ended up staying mostly still.

"Pyr, I know you're capable, I know you can defend yourself. I know that better than anyone on Remnant. But this isn't something that can be helped by a single huntress. When I said war I meant it literally Pyr. There will be thousands fighting — millions, gods forbid. Artillery and cannons and drones and warships and armies. If you come to fight, all you'll do is make me worry."

Out of the corner of his eye Percy saw Pyrrha's grip tightening on her spear. "If this is an attack on all of Mistral then it's only more of a reason for me to help. I can't sit back as my country is being invaded, as my people are suffering and dying. You told me yourself that I was responsible for the people of Mistral, remember? When you took me to the lower floors, showed me the state the people were living in while my family ruled over them in luxury?"

"I seem to remember," Percy began, his voice unyielding, "telling you that you should be aware how the rest of Mistral lived, but that you weren't responsible for anything happening. That it wasn't your fault. Just like this isn't."

"Because I couldn't do anything then!" Pyrrha challenged, "But I can now, and I won't sit back and repeat the mistakes my father has made. I won't leave the people to die while I play in the grass a world away."

Percy took a moment to regain his bearings. Taking a deep breath, he placed a hand on each of her shoulders.

"Pyrrha, you have no idea how proud of you I am. Every day you remind me more of myself when I was your age, and that's never been more true than in this moment. But in spite of that — no, because of it, even — I won't let you throw away your life like this. There are some parts of you I'd rather not be so much like me."

"Well then it's a good thing you're not the one that gets to decide who I choose to be." she bit back, though her voice was soft. "I'm the age you were when you started training me. When you took Windpath, when you met my father and began training me. When you killed an alpha beowolf without even looking at it. When you'd been left to fend for yourself for five years. I'm old enough to make decisions for myself. This is the decision I'm making. You wouldn't have accepted no for an answer, and neither will I. Even if you don't take me with you I'll find a way to get to Mistral. I will be there for my people. For you."

Percy bit his tongue until he started leaking aura. She was right that he wouldn't have taken no for an answer, and she was right that at her age he'd been through… much worse than this.

But she wasn't him. And more than that, he didn't want her to be him.

His hands slipped from her shoulders. "I need time to think. I'll be back — I have something to do in Vale before I leave. Yes or no, I'll be here to tell you before the end of the day. I promise. Alright?"

She didn't look entirely satisfied, but she nodded once to show she understood.

Percy nodded in turn. "I need to go. I'll be back in a few hours." he told her, turning on his heel and starting the jog to his bullhead.

Fishing out his scroll, Percy opened his contacts and scrolled as he ran. Calling one of the two pinned contacts he had, Percy pressed his scroll to his ear and waited for him to pick up.

"Hey, what's up."

"Hey Shiro… I've got some bad news."


Percy hated how far most of the city was from the bullhead docks. Vale had more than one bullhead docks, but they were all on the outskirts of the city so that there was no low overhead traffic in the city itself. Given how large a city Vale was, it was next to impossible to make a day trip to its center. Fortunately his destination wasn't at the center of the city. Unfortunately, it was at the edge furthest from any bullhead docks. If Vale had a ghetto, this would be it. It was probably the least populated part of the city, but that didn't make it much more appealing.

It did, however, mean his ride got there faster.

Percy nodded to the man Junior had sent to pick him up in the black sedan, stepping out of the vehicle and walking over to the warehouse across the street. It was the only one up and down the road with lights on, and certainly the nicest looking one around. It didn't help the muck running along the streets just beyond it, though.

Arriving at the main metal door, Percy banged twice to announce his presence. The door opened a moment later, revealing a familiar head of orange hair covered by a bowler hat.

"Oh thank Oum you're here." Roman greeted him, reaching up to take Percy's arm and lead him inside. "I'm telling you, this chick is a psycho. I don't know why you insist that we keep working with her. One pound light on a dust delivery and her hand lights up like a stove!"

Fire? He hadn't seen her use fire or any sort of heat semblance before. Dust, then, he assumed.

"Actually," Roman paused to think for a moment, "I guess I do get why we still do jobs for her. She's terrifying. One time her and Neo-"

"Roman." Percy interrupted. "Where is she?"

"Right," Roman pressed his palm to his forehead. "Big bossman. In a hurry. Time is money and all that. Right this way, she's in the upper offices right behind that door."

Percy shook off Roman's hand and walked towards the door, opening it with a heavy metal click and pushing inwards to find the office… more lavishly decorated than he'd have thought, for such a rundown place.

Neo leaned against the far wall, but on the couch to his left sat who he'd come here for, tapping through her scroll. One of her lackeys — the boy. The annoying one, Percy recalled — leaned against the wall behind her while the other was nowhere to be found.

"Cinder," he called, prompting her to look up at him. "I'm here to collect on my end of our deal. Call your people. I'm calling in your help."


Hope you enjoyed! Huge shoutout to Burntliquid for commissioning the third chapter a month. A previous commissioner ended up havin' to cancel, but Liquid was there on the last day with the save for the 3 chaps a month. Big thanks to him, my patrons, and everyone who reviews for giving me the motivation to keep writin 3

Also, fun fact, whenever I randomly put the number 3 in an AN, it's because I tried to make a heart but ffnet doesn't like brackets and removes them. I learned this like 2 chapters ago. I've decided the main perk of my pat-reon shall now be that you're able to fully receive my love instead of 3. Also, just cause it's funny, I'm gonna keep putting hearts when I want to, and everyone who didn't read this specific paragraph will continue to have no idea why. But you will.

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Next Chapter August 20