"Am I the only one I know waging my wars behind my face and above my throat?"
- Tyler Joseph, Migraine
Too late. Again, he was too late. First it was Summer. Then it was Amber. Now it was Fria.
Just like with the others, Qrow arrived just in time to be entirely too late.
His wings beat furiously to propel him towards the window near the top of Atlas' spire, sharpened eyes focused on the assailant that stood before the winter maiden's motionless corpse. The same assailant that had attacked the fall maiden.
When Qrow had arrived too late to save Summer, he'd been stricken with grief. When he'd arrived too late to save Amber he'd been upset, but focused on driving away her attackers. This time… this time he was just angry.
Tucking his wings under him, Qrow turned into his human form and reached behind him, swinging his gun and discharging it into the window in the feet before he impacted it, crashing through the shattered glass and rolling into a landing.
Qrow swung his now extended sword overhead to swipe at the green haired girl. She was the one that created the illusions if left alone for long enough, Qrow remembered.
He would not soon forget.
She barely raised her pistols in time to take the brunt of his blade, but she was no Percy. She collapsed to her knees gritting her teeth, but Qrow was already moving on from her. He swung at the giant of a man that had betrayed Ozpin, aiming to separate his head from his shoulders.
His sister had been Summer's precursor, Qrow had heard. Died in the line of duty. But where Qrow continued the fight against Salem to honor Summer, Hazel took a different route.
One that would end with his cold body at Qrow's feet.
Hazel, the giant he was, caught Qrow's blade with a grunt. He was forced to let go a moment later when it shifted into a scythe, and Qrow launched himself back by firing directly into his torso.
The silver-haired kid that liked to kickbox launched — believe it or not — a kick at Qrow's head, which he batted aside. He didn't bother to respond, keeping his focus on the threats and sweeping in to attack the dark-haired, amber-eyed girl.
"Retreat!" she scowled, barely managing to deflect the edge of Qrow's scythe. "We can't take him, not now."
Qrow took a moment to thank Fria. She'd done what she could, and it wasn't in vain. Qrow knew he was good, but he could admit when he was outmatched. He might eke out a victory if he was lucky — who was he kidding, if his opponents were unlucky — but two huntsmen-level enemies along with an illusionist and a student? His odds wouldn't be looking favorable if they were all fresh. But as it were their auras were low enough that they — wisely — didn't want to risk it.
Qrow wished they were a bit dumber. He would've loved to end this whole charade here and now, take a few pieces off of Salem's board.
Unfortunately for him he wouldn't be getting that chance today. The silver haired kid came in for a kick that Qrow dashed backwards to avoid, and pointed his sword past him at the green haired girl. The girl was forced to dodge when Qrow pulled the trigger, and like he feared the illusion broke, the silver haired kickboxer appearing to shift a foot to the right. If Qrow had tried to block, he would've taken a metal boot to the head.
To his right, Qrow saw the amber-eyed assailant leap out of the window Qrow had come in through. Considering Hazel was nowhere to be found, he figured they'd both made the same exit.
Ignoring the kids, Qrow leaped out the window to pursue the two real threats. But despite a few seconds being nowhere near enough time to finish falling several hundred feet to the base of the tower, neither Hazel nor the mystery girl were anywhere to be seen. Turning to a crow mid-fall, Qrow sweeped back upwards and did a nosedive into the still broken window at the tower's top, just in time to see the two remaining assailants — the kids — disappear behind shutting elevator doors.
Qrow grit his teeth. He didn't have time to go after them; he had to protect the relic, in case Salem's people somehow knew who the next maiden was.
Another failed attempt at capturing even one of them and getting some answers.
Snatching the flask at his side, Qrow took several long chugs before rescrewing it, securing it to his belt, and leaping back out the window.
Another maiden, another death. Another mission, another failure. He was going to lose count at this rate.
Once the broadcast was over Percy beat a hasty retreat to one of the intact rooms in the capitol to wind down. He sat in the chair of a waiting room for one politician or another. He'd checked in the office itself, but half its roof was missing and there was a large crack in the wall. So, here he was.
It couldn't have been five minutes before he was interrupted, a quick knock at the door breaking the illusion that Percy had actually managed to hide.
"Come in." he called, regretting the words even as they left his mouth.
Shiro walked in silently and closed the door softly behind him. "You planning on hiding forever?"
"No," Percy replied dryly. "I just planned on hiding for five minutes. Unfortunately, my plan's been foiled."
Shiro cracked a smile. "Well out of all your plans which came to their conclusion today, if one had to fail I'd say you got off lucky with this one."
Percy rolled his eyes, but felt the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. Letting out a loud groan he pushed himself out of his chair and to his feet, stretching his arms out to the sides and getting a small bevy of cracks and cricks as a reward. "Not gonna act differently now that I'm… king? I half expected you to enter prostrating."
Shiro snorted. "I'm not sure what you are either, to be honest. King, emperor, imperator, rex, take your pick. We're technically an empire, we're just called a kingdom to match the other kingdoms. Mistral currently covers the land that used to be made of dozens of smaller kingdoms, as I'm sure you know. The last emperor was king of all of those kingdoms, and emperor of Mistral. But to answer your question, no, obviously I'm not planning on acting differently. I knew you were a god — half-god, whatever — before this. The title hardly raises your status for me. Nor does it for anyone else, I imagine."
Percy raised an eyebrow. "How do you mean?"
Shiro fell silent for a moment. "Mistral is… diverse. Far more so than any of the other kingdoms, probably even Vale. That's because of our history as a ton of different kingdoms with their own cultures, and more relevantly right now, their own religions. There's just about a different religion for each great family, and each of them is roughly as popular as the next. That's why there's no powerful, central church, despite how religious the country is — none would be large enough to have a real sway on politics. But, differing beliefs leads to differing lifestyles leads to misunderstanding leads to conflict; point being, the old monarchs highlighted what our religions share, to create a sense of national unity. And the one thing that just about every religion in Mistral shares is a reverence for the sea and sky, to be protected, feared, and revered. You just threw both at Atlas' fleet on an international broadcast."
Percy buried his face in his hands, and resisted the urge to collapse back into the chair behind him. He massaged his eyes, wishing with all his heart that the ground would just swallow him.
Images flashed through his mind. Alaska. Mud. Gasping for air. Drowning. A sleepy smile.
Nevermind. He was fine where he was.
"I knew the risks of what I was doing." Percy said. "I'll deal with it later. But I'm sure you interrupted me for a reason, so what's up?"
Shiro nodded. "Well, I figured before you slept you'd want to talk to Pyrrha.."
Percy cursed under his breath. "Yeah, I… I owe her that. I have something I need to do before anything else, do you mind asking her to wait for a bit? I'll be back soon-"
"I barely managed to convince her to wait for the few minutes she has already." Shiro cut him off. "When I left her a couple minutes ago, she was eyeing the door. Either give her time to process or talk to her, but whatever your choice is I'd make it quick."
Percy ran a hand down his face. "Alright, let's go. Where is she?"
Shiro stood aside and gestured to the door, swinging it open. Walking out, Shiro led Percy back towards where he'd come from but stopped a few doors before the main chambers, outside a small lobby not unlike the one Percy had just come from.
Peeking his head inside, Percy rapped on the door. True to Shiro's word, an air of anxiety hovered around Pyrrha. She was fidgeting with a strap on her armor, and looked like she might bolt the moment he took his eyes off her.
Pyrrha's head snapped his way at the noise, and Percy wasn't sure if it was good or bad that he couldn't read her expression. It meant she wasn't upset enough to want to never see him again, but she was hardly jumping up and down for joy, either.
So, somewhere in the realm of possibility, then.
Percy opened the door further and jerked his chin towards the hallway. "Walk with me?"
Pyrrha opened her mouth, hesitated, closed it, and settled for a nod.
She stood and walked over to join him, which Shiro took as his cue to leave. Percy turned and together, they walked down the hallway towards the exit of the capitol. Soldiers, bureaucrats, politicians, and more soldiers quickly noticed them, but Percy did his best to ignore them.
"Why-"
"I'll answer your questions as much as I can." Percy quickly interrupted. "But let's wait until we have at least a modicum of privacy."
Pyrrha nodded that she understood, and they continued until they were in the open air of the first floor. What had been a large campus of plazas, pavilions, fountains, parks, and ancient, high class architecture had been reduced to a field torn apart by water and explosions, torn up roads, and half-missing buildings.
"Did you… do all of this?" Pyrrha asked. Percy couldn't quite place the tone of her voice, but it wasn't completely biting, at least.
"Atlas helped quite a bit, but yes. Much of this was… collateral damage I caused."
"How?" She asked simply, keeping her voice low. They were outside now, but soldiers and the occasional civilian still congregated in small groups around the area.
Percy hesitated for a long while. Too long, it turned out.
"Why don't you want to tell me? Is it trust? Do you think I can't keep a secret, or is it something else?" Pyrrha's voice when she spoke was bitter and scathing, a tone Percy didn't think he'd ever heard from Pyrrha.
"No!" he spat out a rapid denial, "It's just… hard to explain. I'm not sure where to start."
"Just start anywhere." Pyrrha said softly. Desperately. Glancing towards her, Percy winced. He knew that look. She was lost. Unsure where the lies ended and the truth began, entirely uncertain what was real and what was a fabrication. "Start anywhere. Stumble over the words, backtrack, repeat yourself, take all day to explain — I don't care! Just… please. Tell me something." Pyrrha trailed off.
Percy really didn't want to phrase this the wrong way, but he'd been in Pyrrha's place before. Whatever he told her, however he screwed up explaining it, it couldn't be as bad as the doubts running through her head.
"I'm a demigod." he forced out. "My dad was a god, my mom was a mortal."
They carried on walking over the wet grass slowly, the wet slosh of the mud and grass beneath their feet the only sound to interrupt the silence that fell over them for several long moments.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Out of all the questions she could have asked, Percy had to admit that was one he didn't expect to come first. She didn't ask 'who's your dad' or 'are you immortal' or 'is this a joke', she seemed to take it in stride. Instead, she asked why he'd kept it from her.
Percy struggled to come up with an answer, and quickly settled on the truth.
"I don't know." he answered honestly. "I didn't think you'd hate me, I didn't think you wouldn't believe me, I didn't think you'd tell anyone — I was even pretty sure I'd have to reveal it eventually. In fact, I knew there was a good chance I'd be outing myself today. But I just… there's never a good time to let that kind of thing slip. Whenever I did tell you, I knew you'd ask why I didn't tell you sooner, and I didn't have an answer. So I kept putting it off, and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry. You didn't deserve to find out this way."
From the corner of his eye Percy spotted Pyrrha's fists gripping her skirt, her knuckles a pale white.
"How much of it was…"
"A lie?" Percy guessed. She nodded. "None of it. Or, as close to none of it as I could manage. Everything you know about me is as close to true as possible without going into detail about my heritage. I didn't make anything up, just… adapted it. As for everything I've done here? Not a bit of it was a lie. At least, not to you."
"Not even a lie by omission?" she challenged. "I didn't want to believe a word Atlas was saying, but it's clear that at least some parts were true. You work with the White Fang and the faunus on Menagerie, you helped start Vacuo's civil war, and you own the MTC. What else haven't you told me?"
"I didn't lie to you, Pyr." Percy shook his head. "Not on any of that. I gave you the information to out me if you ever wanted to; you were at that meeting with Ironwood, you've heard me go by both Percy and Perseus, you've been there for some part of just about everything I've been involved in. You didn't see me meet the White Fang because they're dangerous and unreliable, and you'd be leverage to get to me. You didn't see me meet the Asturias' because they're in Vacuo. Hades, you've eaten lunch at the same table as Shiro and I while we were planning a lot of this stuff. It's just… it's work. You know I don't talk about it when I can help it, it just wasn't really relevant to you. If you were involved in some way then I'd have told you, but you weren't. I didn't want you to get involved, it'd only put you in danger."
"Lot of good that did." She retorted, but there was no heat behind her words. Looking her over Percy could tell she was far from done with him, but he was glad to see she was back in reality. She wasn't still looking at him like she was trying to determine if his face was real or not.
As they neared their destination, the grass became stone and the stone became steps, Percy reflected on what he had lied about. There was a lot on that list, but he was being honest when he'd said that almost none of it had been kept from her intentionally.
Almost none of it.
Wincing internally, Percy recalled some things he had kept from her. Things that had to do with her personally. Argus came to mind. The coup of Mistral, and the degradation of her family; things that had had direct — and significant — effects on Pyrrha.
"There are some things I need to tell you about." he said. "Some things I need to come clean about.
"Other than what you just told me?" Pyrrha's eyes narrowed.
"Other than that." Percy confirmed, careful not to be too specific. They'd fully entered Haven's main hall, and while it was sparsely occupied he didn't doubt the acoustics would allow everyone in the building to listen in if they wanted to. "It won't be pleasant, but I'm serious. I promise I'll answer all of your questions, too. Full transparency. No more lies, Pyr-"
"Ave, Perseus!" the familiar face of Heather Shields called out from the end of the entry hall, where she waited for them.
"Please, gods, no." Percy resisted the urge to massage his temples. "Don't start with that. Please, just call me Perseus. Actually, no, Percy. Percy is fine."
Heather blinked curiously, and Percy thanked the gods that she simply extended her hand for a handshake rather than some sort of kowtow.
"Percy? I was under the impression that that was just a cover name. Is Percy your actual name?" she asked.
Percy shook his head, happy to entertain the conversation. "Perseus is my actual name. Percy's a nickname, but I prefer it over Perseus."
Heather smiled. "Still Percy, then. Got it. The more things change, the more they stay the same, right? I was told you might be coming by today, so if you're ready we can head right to the cells."
Pyrrha shot him an inquisitive look. "Cells?"
Percy nodded tiredly. "Yeah, there's one more person I have to talk to before I can let myself sleep. I'll try and make it quick, and when I'm done I'll explain everything, I promise. Alright?"
Pyrrha didn't answer immediately, instead looking back at him, silently observing. When Percy realized he was starting to get nervous to hear her response, his nerves were replaced with pride. Putting him on the other foot? Tired or no, she really had come a long way.
"No," Pyrrha shook her head. "You're clearly exhausted, you've been through a lot today. Talk to whoever you need to talk to, and then rest. Our conversation can wait."
Percy's protest hadn't left his lips before Pyrrha cut him off with a sharp look. "I don't care, you've made too many bad decisions because you didn't listen to me recently. This won't be another one. I can't make you do anything, but you can't force me to have this conversation with you. So go do what you need to do, and I'll be waiting for you at the steps out front."
Percy watched her turn and leave without looking back, not sure if he felt more pride or annoyance.
Heather walked up beside him and gave him a knowing smile. "I recognize that stubbornness. You've rubbed off on her."
"Maybe more than I'd like," he muttered. "I'm not sure if I should be proud or upset."
Heather let out an amused huff. "Pulling a stunt like that… Depends if she's normally too timid or too assertive. If she needs to work on being more confident, focus on your pride. If she needs to be knocked down a peg, focus on your annoyance, and make her regret it. Considering her combat record, I'd assume-"
"Wrong." Percy interrupted. "You'd assume wrong."
Percy shot her a friendly, if tired, look. "But yes, thanks for the advice. I am proud. She's come a long way. But more than that, she's right. I'm bone fucking tired, so let's get this over with."
Heather indulged him with a smile, stepping aside and extending a hand behind her. "Right this way."
"All means are justified to an end."
- Suzaku Kururugi
Haven's detention center was more prison-esque than Percy would have guessed. He didn't know what he was expecting, exactly, but in his mind it was closer to a mandatory stay in a dorm than a dungeon.
The only differences between Haven's detention center and a run-down prison from what Percy could see was that the prison guards were all huntsmen, and hard-light shields covered the entrance of every cell with a person in it.
As far as Percy could tell, right now that was all of them.
By the looks of it almost a dozen Atlesian specialists had been taken prisoner during the battle, and Haven wasn't prepared to keep so many. Percy could see a couple cells towards the end of the short hall doubling up on occupancy, and winced in sympathy. Being no more luxurious than a run-of-the-mill prison meant one bed to a cell, one sink, one toilet, and a floor that looked like it was covered in every disease discovered since the invention of modern medicine.
But he wasn't here to admonish the living conditions.
"You look like you've seen a ghost." Percy was the first to speak, stepping into Winter's cell and hearing the telltale hum of the hard light dust resume behind him.
"How did you survive?" Winter sat rigidly on her bed, staring at him unflinchingly.
Percy sat next to her, sagging against the wall of the cell. "Water." he told her. "There's a lot of it, everywhere. I made a barrier to protect myself from the barrage."
"How could you know it was coming in time to prepare?" Winter asked, confusion clear. "And even if you could block all the shrapnel, the heat alone would've been enough to kill you a hundred times. And even after all that you'd have to deal with the Ace-ops and General Ironwood. I was told you survived, but if you weren't in front of me right now, I wouldn't believe it. Honestly, I'm still having a hard time believing it."
"I'm better at the whole fighting thing than I like to let on." Percy said dryly.
"What happened to the Ace-ops? How'd you get away?"
Grimly, Percy shoved a hand into his pocket and pulled out a pin of a four leaf clover. He handed it to Winter, who took it silently.
"This was Clover's."
Percy stayed silent.
"He gave this to you?" Winter looked at him.
Percy nodded once, slowly.
"And everyone else from the Ace-ops. They're… not here, where the other captured specialists are?" she asked.
It wasn't a real question, so Percy didn't answer — one thing nobody had ever accused Winter of was being slow. She might be stressed, tired, panicking or any mix of the three, but she knew exactly why her team was absent.
"Was it you?" she asked him in a mix of disbelief and distress.
"Yes." This question was a real one, so Percy answered it.
"All of them? None- none are injured, and being healed?"
"All of them." he confirmed.
"I understand." she said quietly, swallowing and carefully tucking the small pin into her pocket.
They sat silently, and Percy let her process the news peacefully. He had no idea how close she had been to her team, but he knew how stressful the day had been for him. If her day had been half as bad, a few moments to accept her team's fate was the least he could give her.
They'd been sitting next to each other quietly for just over a minute when Winter began stealing nervous glances at him. Percy only had to wait another handful of seconds for her to decide to ask her question.
"Did you try to keep them alive?"
Percy looked at her. That was… blunt. How did you answer a question like that?
Well, lies had gotten him here in the first place. He was tired. Partly he was tired of the lying, but mostly he was tired of… being awake.
"No." He returned, just as bluntly.
They fell into another silence.
"I'm not sorry." Percy said on impulse. "They tried to kill me. I don't regret killing them."
Winter closed her eyes and let her head rock back against the stone wall.
"Then… Mistral won? Atlas lost?"
Percy nodded before he remembered her eyes were closed. "Yes. Ironwood is dead. The fleet was destroyed, and their ground forces were all captured or killed."
He watched her release a shaky breath. "I was sure you were dead." she told him. Percy looked at her curiously, confused by the sudden pivot. "You were alone, an amateur swordsman without armor or backup against the Ace-ops. I convinced myself I couldn't change anything — that if I tried to help you all I'd do was get myself killed. I saw where you landed when you fell and I knew what would happen, but I didn't do anything. I watched the shells land and I was sure I had let you die. But I resolved to keep going because your death would be for nothing if I didn't push on. I would've done it, if I thought it would've made the difference." Winter opened her eyes and looked at him, tears beginning to well before they spilled over to run in rivulets down her cheeks. "I would've betrayed Atlas for you. I know it. But I convinced myself not to. Not because it was the right thing, but because I was too afraid. Because I didn't think that we could win." she laughed.
Percy normally liked Winter's laugh. It was a break from the generally stoic professional she always tried to be, and a glimpse past the strong, serious personality she wore even when she let her guard down.
Percy did not like this laugh. It was a watery, sarcastic, biting — almost mocking — laugh, and one he knew was aimed at herself.
"I pride myself on making the right decision instead of the easy one. But I know that on that summit today, I took the easy way out. "
Not sure how to help, Percy uncertainly reached to touch her hand in what he hoped was a friendly gesture.
She grabbed it in a vice-like grip, her already pale hands turning an even lighter shade of white.
"I almost did it again." she told him, her voice falling quieter. "I wanted to. I wanted to do the easy thing again. Not the decision I thought was right, but the decision that was the least risky. The least likely to make me have to fight to defend my convictions. I was a second away from letting myself do more evil than anyone before me has ever considered. I'll never take the easy way out. Never again."
Gently, Percy loosened Winter's grip on his hand.
"Winter," Percy waited until he was sure her focus was on him. "What did they order you to do? Why did they send you to the central command center?"
Her forced smile fractured. "I was given the access codes to shut down Mistral's defenses so that they would have free reign to fly an Atlas bomb into the middle of Mistral."
"Atlas bombs are theoretical." Percy began slowly, "Are you sure it was an Atlas bomb?"
Winter closed her eyes, swallowed loudly, and nodded. "At least one is working. A general order was declared that called for the destruction of Mistral. They had no reason to lie to me about that. If they wanted to lie it would've been to understate what they were going to do. Lying about the Atlas bomb would serve no purpose."
Percy's heart stopped beating.
Percy bothered to remember very few of the experimental weapons Atlas was developing. Very, very few. The Atlas bomb was one of those very few, if only because of how easily compared it was to a nuke on Earth. He had been assured directly by agents working on the project that it was a long way from being tested, much less deployed. And all that was assuming it was even possible in the first place.
So, he hadn't been worried. He'd kept an eye on it, and dealt with his more immediate problems. But if they had a working one?
"You fought your way to the command center and then surrendered." Percy muttered, her seemingly erratic decisions suddenly beginning to make sense. "You single handedly saved a hundred million souls, and you're sitting in a prison cell."
"I didn't save anyone." Winter refused, making a futile attempt to wipe the tears from her face. "If it weren't for me, they never would have been in danger. I almost… I didn't save a hundred million people, I almost killed them. I… I was going to. I could have. I-"
Percy pulled her into the crook of his shoulder, and she fell silent. The argument that she was guilty of trying to kill a civilization of people wasn't a logical one, but Percy didn't fault her for not thinking straight at the moment. He'd gotten used to the fate of a civilization — a world — of people resting on your shoulders. Winter was resilient even as far as soldiers went, but a day like today would take an emotional toll on anyone. Gods knew it had on him, even if it wasn't as visible as Winter's. She would know how to deal with it better next time — and Percy knew from experience that there would always be a next time — but he considered that a curse, not a blessing. The healthy human mind doesn't routinely process the lives of tens of millions of people hanging in the balance due to a decision it makes.
Standing, he pulled Winter up with him. She wasn't crying anymore, but her nose and eyes were puffy and red.
They reluctantly separated, and Winter took a deep breath before nodding to let him know she was okay. Or at least, as okay as she could be.
Percy waved to a guard down the hallway, and the hard light barrier to the cell dropped.
"Come on," Percy offered Winter a hand. "Let's get out of here. I'm exhausted."
Ozpin took a long draught from his coffee — his third cup this morning, though calling three AM 'morning' was only technically correct — as he stared at the terminal on his desk, eyes bloodshot but fully open. It was times like these that Glynda was tempted to join her colleagues in their caffeine dependency, just a little. Even as important — and spectacular — as the events occurring on screen were, she fought a hard battle to keep her eyes open. Being alert since 3AM so that they'd be able to react quickly to the news coming from Mistral was taking its toll.
"I didn't know it was possible for a male to inherit the powers of a maiden." she said, not-so-subtly eyeing the wizard who had created the maidens in the first place.
"It's not." Ozpin replied absentmindedly, eyes concentrated on his desk's terminal.
Glynda directed her own attention back to said terminal, which showed Percy Jackson — or perhaps it was just Perseus now — going toe-to-toe with Ironwood himself, as well as a teenage girl that Ozpin had told her was a robot huntress. A pet project Atlas decided to bring out to play, apparently.
"He's wielding the elements like a maiden." she pointed out. At least, it certainly seemed like it to her relatively experienced eyes. A miniature hurricane raged in a cyclone around him, the wind, rain, and even the lightning acting to assist him. The elements bent to his will, and Glynda was pretty sure that when he'd bent over to touch the ground he'd created an earthquake.
"Even if it were possible, he is not wielding the powers of a maiden." Ozpin told her, stating it as a fact. She supposed it probably was one; he, of all people, would know what a maiden's powers were. "The only possible answer is an… extremely versatile semblance, and a baffling amount of control over it. It is possible that a maiden is coordinating with Perseus to achieve this level of result, but not even the spring maiden can create a storm of this magnitude on her own."
Glynda studied the terminal closely, but only grew more confused the closer she watched it. "I don't understand. Amber could create storms of this size, and she was just learning. This very much so seems within the abilities of a maiden. Even the control being wielded over the storm, while impressive, remains far within the bounds of plausibility."
Glynda knew she was wrong — Ozpin was the authority on the maidens. But she didn't know what she was missing.
"Not the small storm hovering just above him. Think larger. Take your eyes away from the fight for a moment."
Glynda did so, and slowly realized what he was talking about.
"You can't be suggesting that the storm covering the entire city — the entire region — was made by him?"
"I'm not suggesting it." Ozpin agreed. "I'm asserting it. The storm is not natural."
Glynda was left momentarily stunned. "How could he manage that? He'd have to have the power of you or Salem to even hope to make something this big."
"Not quite true." Ozpin shook his head. "Salem and I possess a more general ability to use magic, but semblances are in their own way more powerful than either of us. We cannot use telekinesis with the ease that you do, or affect luck in the way that Qrow does, or, in this case…"
"Water?"
"Hydrokinesis." Ozpin nodded, gaze never wavering from the battle. "I struggle to imagine the mental fortitude necessary, but all of this is possible through the incredibly versatile semblance of hydrokinesis. All he has to do to create a storm is evaporate water. To create a hurricane or tornado, all it would take is a manipulation of the temperature of the vapor in different parts of the air at different times. A storm could be manifested in minutes."
"And the lightning?"
"Extreme friction between water molecules, repeated millions of times. To direct it he just needs to create some charge in a path from the sky to his desired target. Energy will take the path of least resistance, no matter how random it may seem."
"How about the earthquakes, then?" she challenged. "He can't do that with water."
"Ground water." Ozpin waved a hand dismissively, and Glynda could feel a hair turning gray. "Enough turmoil below the surface would mimic an earthquake. All of these demonstrations are very impressive, certainly, but it is not possible for him to inherit the abilities of a maiden even if all of this was possible through-"
She and Ozpin both flinched as the video feed was replaced by a 'call incoming' screen. Ordinarily Glynda would have been frustrated by the interruption, but under these circumstances…
Ozpin hit accept the moment after it appeared, and the face of Qrow Branwen was stretching across the terminal, static distorting his image.
"Qrow." Ozpin greeted, relief clear in his voice. Qrow had been assigned to follow Perseus for some time now, which of course meant he would have had no way of reaching them by CCT. They had no reason to believe he'd been hurt in any way, but even so it had been weeks since they'd last heard from him.
"Oz." Qrow wiped his mouth, his voice coming through slightly distorted as well. "I'm afraid I've -ot bad news."
Glynda hid her wince. Qrow was frequently sarcastically optimistic. For him to say there was bade news outright instead of tip-toeing around it wasn't a good sign about whatever it was he had to tell them.
"I got some info that Salem's agents would be in Atlas during the battle at Mistral, and left immediately to intercept them. I was too late. Winter is dead. It was the same group that got Fall, but this time they had Hazel with them."
Glynda closed her eyes, while Ozpin just looked down and let out a deep sigh. "Were you able to capture any of Salem's agents?"
"No," Qrow scowled. "There were four. I managed to scare them off, but I couldn't catch any in time."
Straightening in his chair and taking a long sip from his mug, Ozpin nodded. "I see. Do not pursue; ensure creation is protected."
"One step ahead of ya." he said, and the view quickly changed from Qrow's face to a low-res image of what Glynda imagined had to be the vault of creation.
"We have lost both maidens aligned with us." Ozpin said bitterly. "Both of the others remain out of our grasp, even to protect. You should visit your sister. Inform her that her maiden is in danger, and… check in on the tribe. See if they're involved with anything out of the ordinary"
"I was there rece—ly." Qrow said, flipping the camera back to pointing at him. "Percy of all fucking pe—ple paid a visit to the tribe while I was following him. Raven definitely saw me, but they definitely know each other. There's more, but it might not be good to talk about it over scroll."
Ozpin and Glynda shared a glance. Ozpin turned back to the terminal. "There's been a… development in Mistral that we thought might be involving a maiden. Young Perseus' hydrokinesis is working in synergy with nature, creating and manipulating storms. If he is in contact with Raven, it's possible the spring maiden…"
"Ah fuck it, guess we're talking about it anyway. No." Qrow shook his head "Percy asked for Raven's help, but she refused. If he has the help of a maiden, it's not the spring maiden. I was on his ass all the way from Vale to Mistral, nobody from the tribe joined him. Besides, that's working on the assumption Percy knows about your war with Salem and the maidens. I'm still not convinced he does."
"He does." Ozpin calmly assured him. "But regardless, that he is familiar with Raven but did not receive the spring maiden's assistance is but another piece to the puzzle. Unfortunately I think it is one that only makes this conundrum more complicated."
"You don't think he's working with Salem, do you?"
"One never works with Salem, only for her." Ozpin corrected, earning a virtual eye-roll. "But it remains a possibility. However, if he is working for Salem directly then she could have plunged Remnant into a deep chaos years ago with his help. I find it far more likely he is working with one of her agents for personal gain."
"But if he knows about the war and Salem-"
"Which he does, then he is intentionally jeopardizing the future of Remnant for his own ends, yes. You see my concern."
"I'll be watching over the vault of creation." Qrow said abruptly, "Just let me know before you do anything stupid, Oz." the signal clicked shut, resuming the stream of Perseus' battle with Ironwood.
"He's winning." Ozpin noted calmly, quickly shifting back to observing the battle.
"He is." Glynda agreed, feeling far more worried. Reports were scattered and contradictory this early; the only way to know for sure what had happened this soon was to watch themselves. If he defeated Atlas and then went on to drive back their fleet, the future of Remnant was far from certain.
"Please James." Glynda muttered beneath her breath, eyes locked on the screen. "You have to do this. For the sake of humanity, you must win."
Percy woke in a Haven dorm late the next morning, arms wrapped around Winter's sleeping form rising and falling softly on his chest. Their clothes were haphazardly dropped around the room, and Percy could feel Winter's bare skin on his own.
Despite their state of dress, Percy knew they had both been far too mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted to do anything more than peel their clothes off and fall into bed before immediately losing consciousness yesterday.
Slowing rubbing a thumb over Winter's snow white shoulder, Percy took the time to organize his thoughts.
He had to meet with the Asturias' in Vacuo to get their official oath of loyalty, meet with Adam while he was there and make sure the man was placated — he had just led the White Fang to help conquer a kingdom, Percy had to throw him a bone — he'd have to decide what to do with Atlas, what to do with Mantle, and then go there to make it happen. And while he was there he'd have to deal with Jacques and decide what would happen to him, his family, and the SDC.
Then, there was Winter. He had a soft spot for her and she had surrendered voluntarily in the end — saving all of Mistral in the process — but that only made it more complicated to find where she could fit into this whole thing. He couldn't — and wouldn't — just toss her aside or into prison, but despite the fact that she was currently lying half naked on top of him he couldn't just completely absolve her of all guilt or consequences for her actions, either. There needed to be something public, at least.
And that was just the top of the list. He would have to meet with Ozpin in Vale — both because of what Ironwood had told him and to make sure the old man wasn't disgruntled enough to make a hostile move. Then there was Menagerie, which he'd been ignoring for months on end in favor of preparing for war with Atlas. Now that the war was over, he could afford to slowly reopen investments in the island. He'd definitely need to fly out to Kuo Kuana to meet with the Belladonnas about that.
And during all that he had to meet with Cinder to be updated about what had happened on her end in Atlas, check in with Junior in Vale to make sure he hadn't been attacked by Wolke's men and the Malachites in Hellinka Sive to see what had gone wrong with the Atlas bomb intel. Speaking of which he had to find any existing Atlas bombs and make sure no more were made in Atlas, and to top it all of he still had to finish his conversation with Pyrrha from the previous day.
Gods. Pyrrha. That conversation alone was going to kill him. Just imagining the way she'd look at him when he told her what he'd done to Argus, to her family and the other great families. Destroying the legacy she'd been raised to uphold. Framing Atlas for an invasion. He wouldn't blame her if she thought he'd arranged the actual war with Atlas, too. All the death and suffering she'd have cause to lay at his feet…
Reaching up with his free hand, Percy dug his thumb and index finger into his eyes until he saw stars. There was so much he needed to get done all across Remnant, all of it time sensitive, most of which he'd need done within the week.
Why do I have to go to them? Why can't they just… come to me? He lamented.
Except… they could. He wouldn't literally make everyone come to him — that was a bit melodramatic. But if he just got everyone in one place, his life would be made so much easier. He could do everything at once — most of it in one really busy day, if he really wanted.
But where? Mistral was the first location to come to mind, but everything he had to do in Mistral could just as easily be done somewhere else, as long as the right people were there.
People could travel. Ozpin, the Belladonnas, Adam, the Asturias', Winter, Cinder, could all move. He couldn't move the cities of Atlas and Mantle, nor could he just ask Jacques or his manor to move, and he definitely couldn't ask the Atlas bomb research labs to move.
And as far as peace treaties went, Atlas and Mantle's lands were the only ones which needed to be divided. He'd hate the cold while he was there, but it worked out the best by far.
He'd run it by Shiro but unless something changed, he had decided. He'd invite everyone to come to Atlas as soon as they could, call it a conference, and make it official. Then, he'd deal with everything in one fell swoop.
Now all there was left was to actually make the decisions.
Well, that was easy enough. He'd just make Shiro decide.
Yawning, Percy pulled out his scroll to start filtering through messages, but froze upon seeing the idle screen. For a single moment adrenaline flooded into his bloodstream before he forcefully calmed himself down.
Of course. Because why wouldn't it be.
He must have reacted more harshly than he'd realized, because Winter began to stir a moment later. "Something wrong?" she asked, groggily sitting up on the bed and looking up at him. Her eyebrows drew together and her lips thinned in a disorientedly concerned way that Percy found at once hilarious and adorable.
"No, nothing wrong." he assured her, collapsing his scroll and tossing it to the floor. When it was clear she wouldn't take 'nothing' for an answer, Percy shrugged. "I'm 22."
The only visible sign Winter had heard him were the corners of her mouth twitching slightly upwards, but Percy had learned that with Winter the eyes revealed far more than any amount of body language ever could.
"Well, that sounds like a perfect excuse for a celebration to take up most of the day." she said softly. Percy guessed she was going for a seductive tone, but so soon after she'd woken up… it wasn't hitting the mark.
Percy grinned anyways. Was fucking away their trauma the healthiest way of dealing with it? Not even close. But, near as Percy could tell, it was the most fun way.
As Winter adjusted herself so that she was straddling him and leaned forward to meet his lips with her own, Percy could temporarily forget the trauma behind him, the headaches in front of him, the scroll on the floor beside him, and all the implications that came with it.
10:48
August 19
Hope you all enjoyed :)
Haven't mentioned em in a while (i think) but pat-reon and discord links are on my profile. Pat-reon has access to one chapter ahead, and I be chillin in my channel in the discord, so come say hi.
Next chapter's on the 20th. Ik ik my schedule has been horribly inconsistent recently but it's so that I can fit more chapters in. May go back to 10th/20th/30th soon, if i can stack up on chapters during winter break.
See you all next time :)
NOTICE: ffn recently enforced opt-in for email notifications, meaning that to receive an email when a story is updated you will need to go to your settings and enable the email opt-in setting. I promise I'll stop giving this warning in a chapter or two, but the drop in readers a lot of authors are getting is startling.
Next Chapter December 20
