Note: Wow these are coming along quickly. I'm going to try to keep writing as long as the mood hits me, though I do feel bad that it's gonna be harder to catch up lol. Anyway, this chapter isn't about Team RWBY, but our antagonists. And I may have taken some... creative liberties. More than usual. Hopefully, you'll find it interesting. Okay, enjoy.

"You are a damned fool, Ozpin."

"Now is not the time to trade in insults, Leo."

"No, the time for that would have been before you endangered us all."

The Vytal Committee provided fantastic accommodations to the headmasters of the four Huntsmen Academies. Though they did not have offices, they were guaranteed two things: luxurious hotel rooms at the historic Scythe and Spear, and deluxe viewing booths for the tournament itself. The former was the only reasonable place to conduct business, given the labor of hitching a flight up to Amity Colosseum. It did mean that their neighbors could hear them, however, so Ozpin was not pleased that Leosandra wouldn't lower her damn voice.

The hotel room was certainly large enough for her voice to carry. A king-sized bed, a living area, a half-kitchen, a hot tub—which he could really use a soak in right now. Ozpin sat at the glass dining table, sipping from his favorite mug. Glynda stood with her back against the patio door, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. The couch was currently occupied by Headmaster Theodore of Shade Academy, the youngest among them, who lay down with a pillow placed loosely over his face, his arm and cape dangling off the couch's side. His large chest moved slowly up and down, and Ozpin was only ninety percent certain he hadn't fallen asleep. It would be rather hard to do that given the middle-aged woman storming about the room like she was stamping out vermin beneath her feet.

There was so much to say about Leosandra Lionheart. Her older brother retired as Headmaster of Haven Academy ten years earlier, and oh how Ozpin missed him. He was so agreeable. So passive. Like a child. Push him even slightly too hard and he would fall over. Leosandra was… well…

"Stupid, stupid man. You are a deeply stupid man."

Everything about Leosandra was more. Raised deep in Mistral's Color Renaissance, her hard-as-nails interior was hidden by her extravagant gowns: flowing, rainbow robes that trailed on the ground nearly two feet behind her. A sash of crimson wrapped around her waist kept it in place. Her hair was short, faded spikes of grey that fell around wrinkled, harsh, and misshapen eyes, and the lower half of her face was concealed with a golden mask molded to look like a lion's maw. Rumors flew around Mistral for years that she wore it to cover a hideous deformity, but Ozpin knew it was merely to add to her mystery and power. When she pointed accusingly at him, she did so with sharp claws that she wore as rings around each finger.

There was no sense in getting her to dress less flamboyantly. He had tried and failed, and as a result, he put off speaking to her persona whenever possible. Unfortunately, that luxury no longer existed.

"Leo, I would ask you to calm down," Ozpin said calmly. "There is no benefit to screaming at me."

"Screaming is all I can do now," Leosandra countered. "Do you know why I decided not to get involved with the Fables, Ozpin? It is because I decided to trust that you were capable of handling matters on your own. And the reason I trusted you was because you sold yourself as the only party to trust. I chose to wash my hands of the matter, and now because of your failure to wrangle this Team RWBY, we are risking the undoing of everything we have sought to build."

"The situation is under control," Ozpin stated.

"Ah, yes. Control. Is that why James is being investigated by his own government?"

"James became lost in his own ambitions. Let him serve as a lesson to all of us."

"Empty words from a man who claims to know it all."

Goodwitch piped in. "Oh, will you stop it? You are acting like the world is already ending."

"We are on the precipice. Is that not reason enough to be angry?" Leo asked pointedly. "Let me reiterate what you already know. A Fable artifact capable of destroying our Kingdoms has been loosed unto the world. Instead of containing the problem, you have allowed the artifact itself to determine its own fate, and now, whoever wins this Vytal Festival shall be bestowed a gift of unlimited power. That can be one of my students. Would you ask me to casually shrug my shoulders?"

Glynda casually shrugged her shoulders. "At least you would have it in Haven's possession."

"With my students," Leo growled. "Do you think I would have allowed Team FNKI to compete if I knew that pop-star brat could become a god? Think with some sense, woman! How am I supposed to explain these circumstances to them? They aren't ready for this immense level of responsibility."

"Hopefully, you won't have to," said Ozpin. Leo just laughed off his claim.

"Yes, because those pack animals you call Team JJWL would surely benefit from the power of godhood."

"I meant that hopefully, we won't have to use it," Ozpin clarified. "That is why I called you here, after all. Because if we don't cooperate, none of us will survive this."

Leosandra crossed her arms, sneering behind her mask. Not a day went by when she enjoyed Ozpin's games. She was tempted to leave him alone to rot. If he got himself in this mess, then why allow the might of Mistral to save him? But there were many concessions she could wring from his desperate pleas, and the threat of the Holy Grail's power was too much for her to ignore. She resented being dragged into this conflict, but like always, she would see it through as necessary.

"What exactly do you want?"

"Just… understanding," Ozpin said gently. "There are two points of agreement I'd like us to come to. The first is regarding the… unfortunate fact that a Rosaline Host can win Vytal. Obviously, this is a worst-case scenario."

"Is this Rosaline really as powerful as you say she is?" Leosandra asked.

"Worse," Goodwitch claimed. "So much worse than you can imagine."

"But she hasn't Blossomed yet. For now, she is vulnerable," Ozpin stated. "As such, eliminating her from the Tournament must be your students' top priority."

"You won't have to worry about that," Leo said cautiously. "They won't hold back. But that's merely a point that we may unanimously agree on to lower our guards. What do you really want, Ozpin?"

Ozpin took a long sip from his mug. This was why he didn't like inviting Leosandra to these meetings. "It is inevitable that one of our students will obtain access to the Holy Grail. However, access is distinct from the power itself. Though the temptation to use its abilities to serve our Kingdoms will be overwhelming, I would like it if we could all agree that whoever wins the Grail… shouldn't use it. At least, not without the express consent of all of us."

"Or, to translate into Ozpin-speak," Leo snarled. "You want to be the one who makes the call no matter who wins."

"The call is not to use it, and that is the only sensible move to make," Ozpin explained. "Might I remind all of you that I'm the one who was in favor of leaving the Grail inside the Vault. We have enough on our plates without another Fable-powered individual running around. We hold the power as long as possible, and if a situation arises in which to use it, then we have it at our disposal. But we all have to put in the effort to tell our victorious students not to use the Grail if they receive it."

Leosandra was almost tempted to agree with him. Almost. Yet, she never even got the chance to take his words past face value. A lazy hand rose from the couch, and Theodore spoke for the first time that day from beneath his pillow.

"Yeah, small problem: I'm not going to tell them that."

Ozpin nearly spit out his drink. Glynda angrily approached the couch. "Are you insane?" She ripped the pillow off his face, revealing a strong-jawed man with dark eyes and a beard greying at its edges. He blinked a few times to let his eyes adjust to the light, then sat up, his vigor suddenly returning to him.

"Not yet," he claimed. "Give it another few years and ask again."

"Theodore, please be reasonable," Ozpin tried to explain.

"I'm being more than reasonable. I'm being conscionable," Theodore said confidently as if suddenly inspired by some great, unseen source. "My students have worked tirelessly to earn their way into Vytal. Shade is not known for its history of successes in this competition, as you know. I was only one of three myself. If they manage to win that final round, they would have done so by showing a great deal of talent, courage, and drive. It would be disrespectful of me to—when offering them a chance at an incredible prize—attempt to manipulate them against their own wishes. It's a violation of their sovereignty as people."

Goodwitch rolled her eyes and groaned. "Oh god, will you stop with your liberal, feely bullshit? We are talking godhood!"

"And they are adults, and they can make their decisions however they want," Theodore said as if it were obvious. "I will do my best to explain to them the pros and cons, but I cannot force their hands. It would stand against everything I believe in."

Leosandra stared daggers through their youngest member. "And just when I thought Ozpin was the most foolish among us."

"You would deny Bianca Prisma her freedom of choice? Or Mercury Black?" Theo asked.

"I want this damn artifact out of my Kingdom," Leo said bluntly. "If I have to wrench it out of my students' hands by force, I will do so. In fact," Leo turned back to Ozpin, "why are we even considering this at all? Simply dispose of the artifact and be done with it."

"I was actually thinking the same question," Theo said with a slight yawn. "Suppose Team RWBY does win the tournament. You don't have to hand them the Relic? You can simply put it on a plane and fly it somewhere they can never find it. Surely, that would be a simpler solution?"

"I'm afraid I don't know if that's possible," Ozpin stated. "I can only do with the Grail as JINN tolerates me. If she learns I am depriving it of its rightful host—"

"JINN?" Leo asked. "Who is JINN?"

Ozpin was about to answer when their meeting was interrupted by the sound of their hotel door unlocking. Leo and Theo shut their mouths, the former incensed at the intrusion and the latter curious. Glynda stood ready and prepared for a fight. Ozpin just sighed. He was finally here, though judging by the clock, at least fifteen minutes late. How strange. He was supposed to be punctual.

A perfect man entered the hotel room with a smile. The others looked him over. His brown hair was short and plain, his face notably rectangular and his skin white and smooth. He wore the double-breasted white coat of an Atlasian Specialist, its front adorned with a variety of medals he earned from over two decades of service. He closed the door gently behind him and then greeted everyone inside with a confident, knowing smile.

"I deeply apologize for being late," he said. "The Atlasian Council held me up rather suddenly. I hope I haven't missed anything."

Ozpin stood up to shake his hand. "Oh no, you arrived just in time. Everyone, I'm sure you are familiar with Ace Operative Clover Ebi."

"It's good to see all of you," he said, firmly shaking Ozpin's hand. He approached Leosandra with reverence and bowed before her. "Madame Headmaster."

She regarded him plainly. "Operative."

He gave Theodore a warm hug. "My friend. It's been too long."

"Clover, what brings you around?" Theo asked.

"Did Ozpin not tell you?" Clover said, surprised. "While General James Ironwood is being investigated for his transgressions, the students of Atlas Academy need someone to manage them for the tournament. As a Champion myself, I have been selected as temporary Headmaster of Atlas Academy."

Theo and Leo let out a shocked gasp. Clover of all people? No one doubted his experience or his leadership, but he wasn't high in the Atlasian military ranks. Surely, there could be other options. Yet, they had no insight into the complexity of Atlasian politics, and they quickly decided it wasn't worth interrogating the outcome. This was a good thing, after all. Clover was trustworthy, honorable, and unlike the man he replaced, open to negotiation. It was better a demon they knew than one they did not, and though the shock hadn't worn off, everyone in the room was quite pleased that he was selected to join them.

Except for Glynda.

Glynda seethed.

"Him? Atlas put him in charge of the Huntsmen for Vytal?"

Clover just grinned warmly at her. "Glynda, don't tell me you still hold a grudge? It's been almost thirty years."

Goodwitch snapped. "I could have been Vytal Champion, you dick! I had you on the ropes, and then my dumb blast just happened to ricochet back at me."

"You were careless with your attacks," Clover said plainly. "It was bound to backfire."

"You got lucky."

"I always do."

Goodwitch looked at his dumb grin for a really long time, then turned to Ozpin. "Let me shoot him."

Ozpin answered. "No."

"It won't work anyway. The gun will jam. You know it."

"No."

"No harm, no foul."

"Not risking it."

"Dammit, give me some catharsis," Goodwitch whined. "I'd rather bring back Qrow. At least his bullshit luck affects everyone, not just himself."

Ozpin sighed. "Goodwitch, we all have to play nice with each other… regardless of your personal feelings toward each other."

Clover laughed to himself, pulling up a chair across from Ozpin at the glass table. "I have no hard feelings toward you, Glynda. It was a good fight, and you have become an incredible warrior in the years since."

"Suck a cock and die."

"And my, have you grown more confident in yourself. I love that."

Ozpin hurried along to get to something relevant. "I must say, Clover, I was quite pleased to hear that the Council chose you to represent Atlas. Perhaps you will talk some sense into our friends here."

"First things first, Ozpin," said Clover. "Do you have the Grail?"

Ozpin nodded. "Glynda, if you would."

The former teacher rolled her eyes. What was she, an intern? Well, she definitely wasn't a Vytal Champion, that was for sure. She walked grudgingly to the bedroom, and after the others heard the sound of a mechanical safe opening, Glynda returned with the artifact in hand. They were stunned at first by its beauty, its intricate, spiraling patterns and pristine silver exterior—and then the revelation set in.

"You're keeping the Relic in a hotel room safe?" Leo said with disgust. "Have you truly lost your senses?"

"What, is housekeeping going to steal it?" Glynda dismissed the concern. "When we are out, I keep it on my person at all times. It's secure enough."

"Why is it even on Vytal?" Leo asked. "Surely, it would be better kept safe within Atlas's walls!"

"Most of Atlas's Huntsmen are here," Ozpin reminded her. "Most of everyone's Huntsmen are here. The Committee is expecting record attendance from active Huntsmen. There is arguably no place safer in the world. If someone does try to take it, they would have to go through an army of the world's greatest warriors."

"Not that anyone is searching for it anyway," Goodwitch said with confidence. "I did kill Glass, remember?"

Clover beckoned Glynda toward him, and her pride was dashed. She walked over and slammed the Grail onto the glass table, leaving it between Clover and Ozpin. Clover considered reaching out toward it but thought better.

"So, this is what drove General Ironwood to conspire against the Kingdoms," he said wistfully. "And your report said that it's… alive?"

"It possesses an artificial intelligence," Ozpin explained. "And unfortunately, that AI is the reason we are in this predicament. Its name is JINN."

"Can it speak to us?"

"It only speaks Fableese," Goodwitch said. "Or Fable-ish. Fablen? Whatever it's called."

"It's resting now," Ozpin explained. "But when the tournament finishes, it will wake up and ask to give the power to its host. I am worried about what will happen if we deny it."

"The Fables likely created some precaution against an unknown party accessing the Grail's power," Goodwitch followed. "It could be equipped with a self-defense mechanism, something that we don't have the technology to counter."

"We don't have time to conduct a full scientific analysis," Ozpin said, disappointed. "As such, our number one priority is to ensure that someone in our favor wins the Vytal Festival."

Clover nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving the Grail. "Well, in that case, we are actually in agreement."

Ozpin was pleasantly taken aback. "We are?"

"Quite," Clover said kindly. "You see, the Atlasian Council wasn't too fond of General Ironwood's scheming. Once they discovered that he intended to use the Grail to overrule their influence, they became fearful of the power of the Grail. Atlas represents the greatest order that Remnant has, and anything that can disrupt that order is seen as a threat. I can assure you that the Council has no interest in utilizing the Grail's power if an Atlas Academy student were to win.

Ozpin sighed. "Well… that's good news. It certainly saves me the effort of convincing you."

"What I'm here to ensure is that when you or I win, we… play ball? Is that the expression?" Clover pondered. "Between Vivian Jupitarian, Bianca Prisma, and Penny Polendina, the winner of the Vytal Festival is likely to be someone we have influence over."

"Hey, I have students too, you know," Theo grumbled.

"I'm speaking practically, my friend," Clover chuckled. "As far as I'm concerned, any of those three victories are the same as long as we are on the same page. But we have to be in agreement. If Vale or Haven's best win, Atlas deserves a say in the storage, protection, and ultimately, the utilization of the Grail. We wish not to start a Fable arms race among our Kingdoms if you understand."

"Those terms are perfectly reasonable, and what I have been thinking," Ozpin said with relief. After months of dealing with Ironwood's ego, Clover was a breath of fresh air. Finally, someone who would put everyone else first! If everyone in Atlas had Clover's selflessness, maybe their Kingdoms wouldn't be teetering on the edge of war all the time. The problem seemed to be slowly solving itself. Yes, Theo was being ignorant, but as long as Atlas, Beacon, or Haven won, he could count on the Grail being used as he intended.

Though he might have to strike that last one—Leo snarled and threw up her hands in frustration.

"Nonsense. Utter nonsense."

"Madame, what's the matter?" Clover asked.

"The matter? Atlas and Vale's incompetence is what got us into this mess, and now, you demand to be thrust back into a position of power?" She pointed at the Holy Grail, eyes narrow and fierce. "You've been storing the most dangerous artifact in the world in a hotel safe. The ones that you can reset the password by hitting a button! You can't even control your own student body, and now I am asked to once again put the fate of the world unto your shoulders. I refuse."

"Leosandra, please," Ozpin begged her. "We have to work together."

"Now you ask my Kingdom for compliance," Leosandra scoffed. "It is woefully apparent that neither of your Academies can be trusted with this level of responsibility. I do not make the same mistakes twice, Ozpin. Understand this and understand it well: I have no intention of using the Grail's power… but if it comes into the possession of Mistral, then it shall firmly be the possession of Mistral."

Ozpin frowned. Did she really have to make this more complicated? He was so close to working something out.

"If I may suggest," Clover said lightly. "Mistral does not have the proper ability to protect the Grail, Madame. I mean this not as an insult, but as concern for all of us. We shouldn't forget that the terrorist known as Mrs. Glass was only able to learn of the Holy Grail's existence because of assistance from the criminal organization SPIDER, who have been allowed to run amok in your Kingdom."

"SPIDER is of no concern to you," Leo grunted. "We are weeding them out as we speak."

"And if you don't mind me saying… everyone has been saying that for decades," Clover reminded her. "My point is that our glorious Kingdom is eager to be of assistance to yours. I understand your mistrust, and on behalf of the Council, we apologize for creating this… drama. However, this is largely the result of one man's reckless ambition, and I hope we do not sully centuries of successful partnership over an individual's misdeeds."

Clover gave it his all, and on a lesser soul, it might have been persuasive. But to someone who had put up with Ozpin's bullshit for years, it was met with only dark laughter.

"You are trying your best, Operative Ebi. I give you that," Leo gasped. "And I apologize that you have been put in this unenviable position. However, my decision has been made, for now at least. Haven will play no part in your Fable war. For your sake, I hope your students are successful and you can put this artifact to rest. Otherwise, you will regret having forced my hand. Operative Ebi. Ozpin. Theo. Goodwitch."

Leo turned on her heel, and that was the end of her involvement. She left the room, rainbow robes trailing behind her, and Ozpin was left without the ability to negotiate.

So… not a very successful meeting. Leo was Leo-ing and Theo was Theo-ing, and in the end, all he had was a burgeoning relationship with Atlas's new overseer. He supposed that was better than nothing, though it closed quite a number of doors. He did not have long to reflect upon his failures though, as Clover leaned closer, his charm fading to reveal a man with the strictest intentions.

"That does remind me: the Invincible one," he said coldly. "Team RWBY only have moderate chances to win the tournament. You are aware of this. But we both know who actually has the greatest likelihood of winning. What do you intend to do about your former star pupil, Ozpin?"

Ozpin sighed. Oh yes. Her. She whom he let slip from under his thumb.

"Don't concern yourself with Pyrrha Nikos yet," Ozpin claimed. "I have… contingency plans."

The door to the log cabin was nearly kicked off its hinges. Vivian Jupitarian, King of the Huntsmen, waltzed inside with a smile on her face. The Vytal Festival. Her playground. It was about fucking time.

Though the cabin was smaller than she would have liked. That was okay… it would keep her humble.

"Honey, I'm home!" she declared to no one in particular. She ripped off her jacket and threw it onto the kitchen table before throwing up her feet on the couch. One by one, her teammates entered, carrying their bags. The beefy, brutal Forger, Calaheart Luvcano; the quiet yet fierce huntress, Luci Wyld; and the gothic, morose Nevan, who took one look around the log cabin and let out a frustrated groan.

"God, it's hideous."

"It's meant to be traditional," Luci reminded them.

"And if there's one thing I love, it's tradition," Nevan sighed.

Cala threw down her bags and wiped her hands clean. "Hey, at least we don't have to stay here long. So, what's the first thing on our to-do list? I'm planning on hitting the fairgrounds. There are food vendors from all over Remnant that you know I have to try."

"I'm going to the wildlife preserve," Luci said with a cheerful smile. "It's the only place you can find red-tailed chipmunks."

"I'm going to throw out all the furniture," said Nevan. "Because holy shit, is that couch… is it fuchsia? Is that a fuchsia couch in a log cabin?"

Vivian snapped her fingers, summoning their attention to the couch. "None of you are going anywhere just yet. We have to study."

Calaheart's shoulder slumped. "Awwww, come on, Viv. We just got off the plane."

"Which took an hour longer than it should have, so we are behind schedule."

"But it's Vytal! We can't spend all day cooped inside this house."

"She's right," Nevan agreed. "If I spent too long in here, bad things are going to happen."

Vivian was neither surprised nor frustrated. She sat up on the couch and spoke rationally. "We didn't come all this way to mess around with the activities. We came here to win. And while everyone else is wasting their time with these little distractions, we're going to get an edge."

Calaheart groaned, shuffling painfully to the couch. "Uggh, I hate it when you are right. But after this is over, you are buying me so many lunches."

Vivian snickered. "When this is over, I'm buying us all mansions."

"As long as it isn't made of wood," Nevan said blankly.

Vivian clasped her hands behind her pink hair and smiled. So many struggles to get to this moment. So many sacrifices. But it was all going to be worth it soon. She didn't know the other Huntsmen competing in Vytal personally, but she knew their type. They all thought they were special, gifted little snowflakes. They were going to go out into town and smile at the cameras, show off their talents, and act so self-important. But Vivian wasn't giving in to temptations. The real glory was to be earned at the tournament's end, and she had something that none of the others had: hunger. She had been starved most of her life, watching others surpass her, but that would all change. This was her time to feed, and she was going to savor every damn morsel.

The world was going to kneel before her.

And no one was going to stand in her way.