Jaune stood in the corner of Ozpin's office, gazing out the large window. Below, the airships continued to land, each one part of a fleet that had arrived in Vale, some of them stationed outside Beacon Academy's walls. The ships were unmistakably from Atlas, a constant reminder of General James Ironwood's ever-watchful presence. Even from a distance, Jaune could tell how militarized the situation was—sleek and precise, the airships looked like giant metal sentinels guarding the city.
Ozpin sat at his desk, his usual calm demeanor masking the gravity of the situation, while Glynda stood beside the door, her arms crossed. She was tapping her foot impatiently, the air in the room thick with tension. Jaune had grown accustomed to the unease between the two of them whenever Ironwood's name was mentioned, but today, it felt particularly heavy.
"Ironwood doesn't know the meaning of subtlety," Glynda muttered, her voice sharp as she glared at the ships outside.
Ozpin's glasses glinted as he adjusted them, his eyes narrowed in thought. "You know as well as I do that Ironwood doesn't operate that way. His mission is to be prepared, no matter the cost."
Jaune's attention shifted from the airships to the Headmaster. He had met General Ironwood a few times during his years as a wandering huntsman, and he knew firsthand how the man's mind worked. Ironwood wasn't just a military leader; he was a man who carried the weight of his role like armor, determined to protect his people at any cost, even if that meant doing things others might not always agree with.
A moment later, the door to the office opened, and General Ironwood walked in, tall and imposing, with his usual air of authority. His muscular build was accentuated by his white overcoat and gray undercoat, and his right glove gleamed in the light as he raised a hand to greet the two inside.
"Good to see you, Ozpin," Ironwood said with his typical jovial smile. His presence immediately lightened the room, though Jaune noticed that the general's eyes remained sharp and calculating.
Ozpin stood, offering a warm smile in return. "Ironwood, always a pleasure. And Glynda—though I see you've already made your exit." He gave her a knowing look as she made her way to the door.
"I'll be in the hall if you need me," Glynda said curtly, the irritation in her voice not entirely hidden. With a soft click, she left, leaving the two men alone.
Ironwood chuckled softly as he watched her leave. "Still the same, I see. Some things never change, huh?"
Jaune, who had been quiet up until this point, stepped forward, his expression neutral. "General Ironwood." He offered a nod, respectful but somewhat wary. Their past encounters had always been professional, but Jaune had never fully understood the complexities of Ironwood's tactics.
Ironwood smiled at Jaune, his voice warm but laced with the unspoken understanding that their paths had crossed more than once during Jaune's wandering days. "Ah, Jaune Arc. It's been a while, hasn't it? I'm glad to see you've found your way back here. Still working with Ozpin, I see?"
Jaune smiled back, though it was a little strained. "Yeah, still with Ozpin. It's been a long road, but I've got a mission to finish."
Ironwood's smile softened. He had seen the toll Jaune's mission had taken on him, but there was no judgment in his gaze. "Well, I can't say I'm surprised. You've always been a determined one. Just make sure you take care of yourself, kid. A mission is nothing if you're not around to finish it."
Jaune nodded but said nothing. It was a reminder that Ironwood, for all his military formality, cared deeply about the people he worked with.
Ozpin cleared his throat, bringing the conversation back to the matter at hand. "So, Ironwood, about this fleet of yours. What brings it to Vale?"
Ironwood's joviality faded slightly, replaced by a serious expression as he stepped toward the window to survey the airships below. "The situation is growing more unstable by the day. I can't sit idly by and ignore the risks we face. This fleet's here to protect Vale, to protect Beacon. I know you've heard rumors, and I won't sugarcoat it—things are shifting in the world, Ozpin. The balance we've held for so long is fraying at the edges."
Ozpin's expression remained unchanged, though his tone carried a hint of concern. "I understand your caution, Ironwood, but I'm not sure a military fleet outside of a school is the answer. We're in a time of peace right now. The Vytal Festival is on the horizon, and it's meant to be a celebration of that very peace. A display of military power will send the wrong message."
Ironwood's jaw tightened, but he remained calm. "I understand your concerns. But you know as well as I do, Ozpin, that peace is fragile. There are forces out there, whispers of things to come, and I'm not about to ignore them."
Ozpin raised a hand, cutting Ironwood off gently. "I know, Ironwood. But we must approach this with tact. The world is already on edge, and making a show of power could fuel the fire of mistrust. Qrow's warning may be valid, but we must be careful in how we handle it."
Ironwood's eyes darkened. "Qrow Branwen, huh? Always the messenger of doom." He sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. "You know what he said. If it's true, we may be in more danger than we realize."
Ozpin's gaze grew sharper. "If what Qrow said is true, then we'll handle it, as we always have. With subtlety, with caution. We can't rush into things and risk creating panic."
The silence in the room grew thick as both men considered the weight of their words. Finally, Ironwood spoke, his voice low but firm. "Do you really think your students, Ozpin, can win a war if it comes to that?"
Ozpin's gaze softened, and he looked out the window at the academy grounds, where the students of Beacon were already going about their daily routines, blissfully unaware of the looming threats. His voice was quiet but resolute. "I hope we never have to find out."
With a heavy sigh, Ironwood turned toward the door. "We'll see if peace can hold. In the meantime, I'll make sure my fleet is ready, just in case."
As Ironwood exited the room, Jaune remained still for a moment, taking in the conversation. He had heard whispers of the growing unrest, but hearing it from two of the most experienced and strategic minds in Remnant made the threat feel much more real.
With a soft exhale, Jaune turned toward Ozpin. "I'll head to the library and meet up with my team. I think we all need a break from this heavy talk."
Ozpin nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Wise decision, Jaune. There's little point in dwelling on what might be. Let your team help you focus on the here and now."
Jaune gave a small smile before leaving the room, making his way down the hallway toward the library. As he walked, his mind churned with the implications of the conversation he'd just witnessed. A fleet outside Beacon, the potential for war—things were changing. And Jaune could only hope that his team and the rest of Beacon's students wouldn't have to face what was coming.
The world, it seemed, was on the brink of something new.
