With the streets being ablaze with chaos, one would imagine the guards and other citywide militia to step up and take on the assault from all angles. Such an assumption would be correct, for although Ruby was speeding by in the shadows, protected by the various nooks and crannies as she passed through and around the archers occupying the rooftops, there was no doubting the effort put into stomping out the flames.
This was true for everywhere except the target location itself, and despite landing silently on the outer wall of the castle-like structure, she'd been greeted by nobody.
Cautiously, Ruby settled herself against the nearest wall, ducking down and peeking around corners as she surveyed the scene. Truthfully, she realized perhaps a bit too slowly that her worry was mostly unwarranted. Nobody came to find her, and for every step she took, none would echo in return. She was alone as she looked across the drop inside, and even taking the time to peer down at the yard before the main entrance rewarded her with more empty space.
You've already lured them out, haven't you? Looking up to the high windows of the adjacent structure, the one the surrounding walls were constructed to protect, Ruby scoffed. Monolith had hours on her by now, so either the guards had all been reorganized inside or outside the establishment, or said guards were already six feet under. Considering Veilroot's faith, like all others of its kind, was the center of importance for almost everyone living under its rule, Ruby scrapped the idea that no one was left to guard such an important place.
But on the other hand, there was no blood or bodies to be seen.
"What did you do?" Ruby whispered the question aloud, already knowing she wouldn't get an answer, but doing so as if her prey were listening anyways. Ruby then shook her head, huffing and scanning the windows in the distance for the one easiest to ram through... or at least pry open.
She was starting to think of Monolith in ways she'd rather not right now, but it couldn't be helped by this point. The dark she'd been holding back all this time was slowly breaking loose, and while Ruby was sure she had enough time to get back to Salem for the finale, she wasn't quite certain how well of a state she'd be in.
So long as she remembered her goal, it didn't really matter.
Got you!
A small crack in the frame of the utmost right glowed a little along the top, showing that there wasn't only a hole there, but also a light source behind it; a torch or candle, perhaps, or maybe some imported Ize? It didn't really matter to her, and as she scattered and fluttered up, her petals had no problem dividing into smaller and smaller segments, until she appeared as nothing but a winding string.
Controlling the size of her petals was always a thing she'd been able to do, but learning how to change mid-flight had taken some practice; but that was young Ruby's problem, not hers.
Coming to, she noted how warm the area was, with a soft, and yet far to decorated carpet stretched on throughout the long hallway. Twisting her head to the right, she saw the little flame flickering in the candle holder, planted neatly on a small shelf which held a potted plant. Nothing overtly extreme, and yet just lonely enough to invoke suspicion. The walls of the hall were a deep brown, with an almost twisted artwork to them, which when paired with the natural green and red accenting of the carpet gave the area a natural feel.
With the potted plant being a single rose, Ruby felt as though the space were mocking her.
But the slightly wilted flower was irrelevant compared to the candle, which was still burning newly. Picking it up, she saw how most of the wax had barely started to drip, meaning that whoever lit the thing had done so recently. And maybe, as she reached for the rose as well to examine it further, Ruby questioned whether the little symbol of romance was left intentionally for her.
Monolith didn't seem the type for poetry though, and especially less so for irony. However, with the subject of this chaos being centered around Ruby herself, she wondered if this was the creature's way of coaxing her on.
With the idea that both objects were left out alone, Ruby tried looking around for anything else that seemed odd. Most of the halls still had lit torches, so there was commotion earlier, however with that being the case, there was no real need for a candle unless dealing with an individually dark room, or leaving one instead. But then, there was no reason to leave said candle behind if you weren't coming back, which was why Ruby was so focused on everything around her.
Either the owner of the candle was on their way, or Monolith had already dealt with them. Certainly the lack of people was the Grimm's fault; there was no other explanation for all the emptiness.
And then it came: a slight jeering of metal squeaking as it was rubbed against. It was such a quick instant that, had there been any other people or noise, Ruby would have missed it completely. Her eyes snapped down the hall behind her, and while everything looked normal at a glance, there was no mistaking the squeak of a door hinge.
Facing said direction, she carefully strode down the carpet, keeping a swift, smooth motion and light footsteps to eradicate any and all noise. Each door was firmly shut, with the surfaces lining up almost perfectly with the walls, only cut off by their frame. Said frames took the appearance of twisted roots, with the doors themselves bearing the same lavish bark pattern covering them, like most of the walls. However, unlike the walls themselves, these doors weren't painted to appear as a collection of twisted woodwork: they were twisted woodwork.
Like the interwoven patterns of woolly carpets or gloves, the individual branches appeared to be twisted together, both large and small, into a slab. And yet that wasn't all, because upon every pass, Ruby saw how certain areas of the wood shined brighter than the others, meaning that a level of garnish or other coloring was stained into them, and perhaps even used to fill in some of the holes. She couldn't see the hinges which held the doors in place, but the noise of before proved they were present; just hidden.
It wouldn't be good for privacy, but Ruby doubted the doors here lead to anything important; perhaps just some lounges or other.
And then it came again, that squeak was much closer now, and it vanished just as fast as before. Ruby stopped walking, instead waving her candle to look over at the closest door. It was perfectly shut like all the rest, but that meant nothing when she heard the barest ruffle of something behind it. A stuttered breathing accompanied the motion, frantic and picking up the longer she stood by; her candle light no doubt illuminating inside from the cracks around the edges and miniscule openings in the surface.
Monolith had ample reason to fear her, but seeing as this chase was its idea, Ruby ruled the creature out. A knight or guard would be quick to confront her, meaning neither lay beyond the door. Seeing as this was one of the most important religious gatherings of the kingdom, Ruby also tossed out the idea of children being present either; any family business would be done on the lower floors, leaving the upper areas for the more dignified members of the establishment, and the heads themselves wouldn't scurry away from intruders either, so it couldn't be them.
This left only the servants behind, and this guess was perfectly proven when Ruby pulled open the door.
Ten or more people had shoved themselves into what looked like a simple cleaning closet, and shuddered away with pitiful expressions of fear, until their eyes seemed to adjust to the woman holding the candle. Ruby was then looked at with far less fear, and more caution. Not giving them a chance to even speak, Ruby opened up with a question.
"Hello... are you all the staff that's here?" Nobody answered, and with a sigh, Ruby tried a different approach. "I'm not going to hurt you, alright?"
Again, not a word, and Ruby caught on that her interactions would take a little more effort. Something had them terrified, which was a bad sign for sure, but she couldn't make much use of that obvious fact if she didn't even know what was going on. Monolith was here, okay, but what had she done to scare these people so badly? And, more importantly, why?
Kneeling down, Ruby placed the candle in her hand on the floor. Such a little flame would do nothing but fizzle if knocked over, for despite the design of everything, most of the walls and floor were carved stone; a fact that most likely irked the patrons of the faith to no end.
"I mean you no harm, honest." Reaching out a single hand, she eyed them all. Most were still frightened, but one young woman seemed to draw close, apparently testing her. The hand was almost a perfect match for Ruby's, although far less withered and worn. Still scared, the woman whispered.
"A-are you with her?"
"With who?" If it wasn't confirmed to be Monolith before, then it sure as heck was now, but she couldn't let them know that.
"We… We don't know her name. She came in like all the others: townsfolk from the outer edges of the market." The woman's grip tightened, and her messy fingers linked between Ruby's own. "They're killing each other, and everyone came with the hope of taking refuge. W-we couldn't get word from the seniors in charge, so we let in everyone we could fit."
"I see." Ruby hoped her smile appeared honest; she really couldn't afford to scare the maid any further. "That was very wise of you: battles are best fought by warriors. The innocent have no place out there."
"W-we thought so too." Her panic seemed to ease up a bit, and the girl added, "with the heads still dealing with their meetings, we've only had the advice of our dogma to go by when making decisions." The young servant's face twisted a little, not really upset, but more conflicted in its presentation. "Although, we haven't been able to use much of it."
"I would imagine." Ruby nodded faintly, letting her eyes fall off to the side. "Instructions for tending to and worshiping nature rarely ever offers decent advice for rounding up citizens."
"Yeah." The maid looked far less scared now, and so Ruby took the chance to return the conversation back to what she needed.
"Listen." Ruby rested her other hand over the girl's, and despite the slight shake it caused, she locked their eyes firmly together and asked, "I need to know what's going on here. I need you to tell me where everybody is, and why you're all in here." Ruby swallowed, not once breaking sight from the servant, and strangely enough, the woman never looked away either. "But most importantly, I need to know where this 'she' is."
A solid minute of silence raged, before the young maid slowly pulled her hand back, and took a breath.
"Okay. It started when we locked the doors."
.
.
"Explain to me why I shouldn't have you tried for treason?"
There wasn't a single person on Remnant who had even the slightest bit of knowledge on how irritated general James Ironwood was right now. But something like this was bound to happen eventually; it was just irritating that it happened now of all times.
"Because this isn't treason."
Sometimes he wondered if these people even knew what they were saying, but that was the thing: this wasn't just them saying anything. They were actively threatening him with what they'd force his way if he didn't own up to whatever whims they desired. It was childish, and overtly corrupt, but behind closed doors there was nothing to threaten them. They were, at the end of the day, cowards when it came to acting on their threats, and so he paid only enough mind to propose an effective excuse.
Looking over to Vermillion, Ironwood smirked internally, and carefully waved the boy over. The young man, perhaps no older than twenty or so by this point, strode up to him, turning to face the council woman who scoffed the moment he got within an arm's length. James found it funny how quick they were to back away from any challenge, but fortunately for her, there wouldn't be any challenge today.
Resting a single hand on the knight's shoulder, James shot a solid eye back to the source of his recent problem.
"Atlas was responsible for apprehending him back at Beacon, as I'm sure you recall."
"Yes." Crossing her arms and addressing him with a deceptively furious tone, she spit out the complaint he was sure she would; with how well groomed and dressed the council's members were, one would guess they'd think a little harder about a situation before speaking. They were, however, only Human, and thus prone to bouts of emotion like anyone else. "And I also recall his escape being well documented afterwards. Although, looking at it now, I suppose it wasn't as much of an escape as it was an order." She huffed, curling up a brow and flicking the corners of her lips upwards. "You do realize negotiations and cooperation with terrorists are a breach of council conduct, on the deepest rooted level, yes?"
Oh, he knew, but she didn't.
"I'm well aware." He stepped out from behind Vermillion, linking both hands behind his back. "However, your claim is based solely on suspicion. Tell me: what proof do you have linking me to aiding such people."
"What proof?!" She shot an arm out to Vermillion, with the single finger pointing with so much accusation it might as well have been a loaded gun. "Are you off your rocker?! He's standing right there!"
"Really?" Ironwood turned towards Vermillion, humming a bit before twisting back. "I don't see any free terrorists of which I'm employing aid from, or aiding." Before the woman could start up again, Ironwood beat her to it. "I only see a prisoner being escorted to me personally for his scheduled interrogation."
"Prisoner?" Her eyes narrowed as she looked towards the deathly pale man. "I see no restraints."
"Of course you don't." Making his way over, James ran a hand along the back of Vermillion's neck, and noticed that not once had the guy moved. The man personally dubbed by Raven as the 'Black Knight' merely looked to the living neck pain, and funnily enough, a neck pain was what he'd been ready to employ; he had this excuse on the backburner since Vermillion first stepped foot in his office. After all, the council could have shown up at any point, and Ironwood was not one to start a project without a safety net. "His cuffs are not on him, they're in him."
"Pardon?" He could see how her face went from mild confusion towards shock far too quickly to be normal, and for good reason too. Ironwood took this as his chance to act.
"If you'll recall: in the midst of the great war, Atlas would surgically implant a specialized 'collar' around the necks of its remaining prisoners... or should I say, on the backs of their spines."
"What?" Miss Xiao Long was the one who interrupted the talk, and as he looked over, the general saw her bewilderment. However her team were far less ignorant to what he spoke of, with Miss Belladonna looking the most shocked. Miss Schnee wore the appropriate level of shame he expected to see, although it was not her shame to wear.
That stain belonged to all of Atlas: a stain which continued to unknowingly benefit the world as a whole, and Atlas even more.
"Impossible." The council member shook her head. "Their use was outlawed after the war ended.
"You are correct." Ironwood fought the twitch in his throat, facing V again. "However the criminality of the matter extends only to use on regular citizens or prisoners; not terrorists. As you know, they fall under a completely separate classification, and, if I recall, are exempt from all legal rights if proof of their action exists and is acceptable in court. Of course, said proof must involve indisputable evidence of 'terrorism' and not just ordinary crime."
"So... you used the assault on Beacon to collar yourself a personal attack dog, is that it?"
"I wouldn't call him a 'dog'." Ironwood kept an almost perfectly stale tone. "He is simply repaying the debt he owes to society. And, should he do so effectively for his scheduled sentence, he will have the 'collar' removed."
"Did you ever think to tell him of the one-hundred percent fatality rate?" And once again, the council found a way to irk him. "I believe it was stated in the decree that the collars were to be outlawed due to that, as opposed to the Humanity of their usage."
"You imply he had a choice." Ironwood shook his head. "He was a terrorist, remember? He lost his right to choice the moment he took arms against his fellow citizens." Soon after, James straightened his stance. "And for that matter: yes, he was told of what its attempted removal would cause. Seeing as the other option was execution, we can both agree he made the smarter choice."
"Okay then. So, how do you plan to set him free when his time comes?"
"His position in the system will be removed. The physical collar inside will simply remain a constant reminder of what his crimes got him. And, should he return to his old ways, we'll simply restore his place and detonate the collar. As you know, aura can only do so much, and with an explosion from the inside… well: not even aura can save him from that."
She laughed aloud, almost mockingly; Ironwood would have liked to claim this didn't irritate him... but that would be a lie. He wouldn't show it though, and just let her settle down a moment after.
"Fine, have it as you will." Humming, she cast a sly look. "I've done what I needed, so I guess there's nothing more to discuss. Although, James?"
"Yes?"
"It's decisions like these that keep our people from trusting you." He had to grit his jaw to keep from growling. "They couldn't see it before, but with the embargo and lockdown in place, both of which were your decision by the way, our citizens are starting to realize just who it is that calls the shots around here. Beacon was, of course, a tragedy, but the rest of us are beginning to question if any of the claims you've made for both were even valid to begin with." She turned away. "But we're content waiting on that investigation... for now. The election is coming, James, so stay alert. Who knows? One of the new blood may sneak up on you~"
The zipping of the door as it shot open and closed following the woman's departure left the group in an uncomfortable silence. Walking over to and taking a seat at his desk, Ironwood took on a disappointed face. Clasping his fingers together, he then addressed the new arrivals.
"I apologize for you having to see that. As you can probably tell: most of the council isn't exactly on good terms with each other, and I'm no exception."
"S-sir."
"Yes, Miss Belladonna?"
"That stuff about the 'collar', and V-"
He stopped her there with a raised hand.
"None of that was true." Lowering it, he rested it back in place and looked over to V. "I've employed no such tactics to our friend." Sighing, he let his shoulders rest, and faced Blake once more. "I was just using some of Atlas's dirty history as an excuse to keep the council as a whole from asking questions. Although, knowing them, they'll find out the truth soon enough anyway; hopefully after all is said and done."
"Then... you don't do that to the prisoners?"
"No." Steadying his position, he leaned up a little more. "While legally I can, I refuse to stoop to that level. The great war was the end of mass slavery, and I refuse to lower myself so much as to use a loophole to get around that."
James Ironwood was willing to do many terrible things if it meant keeping Atlas safe. However, day by day, he began to wonder if he was losing his mind. From terrorists, to ancient champions, to an evil most people could only imagine: every hour was testing the limits of his sanity. But to say 'no' to such a basic evil as enslavement... It was one of the few things to remind him he was still on the side of good.
There was no solid right or wrong though, only a myriad of grays, which one could only do their best to balance upon.
"I don't get it." Yang was a little frustrated at apparently being the only one in the dark. "What's everyone talking about?"
Ironwood decided to give a basic explanation, if only to make it known how terrible the kingdom he'd sworn himself to could be if not led properly, and hopefully strengthen their bonds.
"Back in the middle of the great war, Atlas was trying to find ways to guarantee effective interrogations from its prisoners. Of course, they'd expended all known methods of torture at the time. They wanted something different however: a method to not only get information, but also turn those prisoners into soldiers of their own."
"I don't like where this is going." Yang was regretting her question already, but Ironwood didn't stop.
"It was found that most people were willing to do anything if it meant survival, and so a device was installed on the spines of every captured prisoner that would temporarily paralyze the victim if orders were disobeyed, or explode if the commanders felt any particular prisoner was too much of a threat. Most died from the operation alone, but those who survived were at the beck and call of the Atlesian army. The 'collars' as they were named, were linked up to the kingdom's military systems. Back then, most technology was still in its developing phase, and so most of it was connected via physical tethers."
"So people just had wires leading from their necks?" Yang shuddered. "Gross."
"Not quite." Ironwood leaned forward. "The collars used no wires whatsoever, and were, in fact, the one of the first successful devices to make use of wireless communication, and the first to do so reliably. Every scroll and electronic afterwards has been outfitted with an updated version of that initial design."
"So basically-" Yang held up her scroll. "You're saying those stupid collars were what started these babies?"
"Partially. Communication lines were a thing of the past, but the tech worked on in those collars were what allowed us to speed up the process, and admittedly, what helped spawn the CCT conception in the first place."
"Okay…?" Yang crossed her arms. "Kinda weird, but I guess it all had to start somewhere. Besides, you said those things aren't in use anymore, so there's really no issue right?"
Ironwood said nothing, and so Yang reiterated.
"They aren't in use anymore, so it's not an issue, right?"
"That's what Miss Beck was here talking with me about. Despite appearances, she's one of the few who tolerates me, and would rather not deal with either Robyn or Jacques... although for how much longer after this, I cannot say." Sighing, he stood, walking around and over to the center of the room, where he whipped out a little remote from his front pocket and clicked a button. A hologram displayed itself, and it showed what appeared to be a recording of sorts. "To many, this appears as an ordinary Schnee Transport Vessel, or an STV for short. On its own it seems normal, however the contents of such contain several plans for the creation of upgraded variations of the initial collar's design."
"Hold on!" Weiss jumped in. "I don't recall us ever commissioning weapons of any sort, let alone instructions. We deal with Dust, and my father knows that." Scowling, Weiss then grumbled, "he's not the type to risk something stupid like weaponry or anything that can get him investigated."
"You're correct, and don't worry; Jacques is harsh, but I know he wouldn't go this far. That's exactly why I brought it up." Ironwood zoomed in on the back, showing a series of numbers printed onto the ship. "See this here? Do you know what it is?"
"The identification number?" Weiss looked over, and Ironwood nodded.
"Yes, and do you know what it does?"
"It tells who's related to the vessel, and which one it is, as well as what group it's a part of." Her eyes squinted. "Why are you asking?"
"Because this is a STV, but the identification which comes up from searching that particular number pairs it to an Atlas Academy Vessel. Or, to be more specific, one of our reserves."
"That's impossible." Weiss shook her head. "Each transport is scanned at every checkpoint, isn't it?"
"It is." Ironwood glared at the frozen image. "Meaning somebody should have reported the error immediately. And yet, for some reason, no reports of this particular ship have been made."
The image cut, and a map of both Atlas and Mantle popped up, with two blinking blips. One dot blinked in the academy hanger, and the other made itself known on the outskirts of Mantle. Anyone looking could see the intense glare Ironwood shot at the second blip in the grounded portion of the kingdom.
"Disregarding the improper label, which we can safely argue is a fake used to overwrite which one of the company's STV's were obviously stolen, the one registered location for this number is in the very place where Robyn's cronies are usually seen loitering."
"Sir?" Turning towards V, Ironwood took note of the way he stared back. Perhaps he wasn't yet used to V's change of personality, but he could have sworn something deeper lay beyond those eyes. "Are you claiming Robyn's group is gathering and constructing those collars?"
"Both yes, and no." Bringing up a detailed image of the collar itself, a small beetle-like bit of metal with little prongs running up and down in the shape of a worm, Ironwood began. "Robyn would abhor the thought of making them based on their very concept alone. However, these devices, while not legally produced, do share some similarities with today's tech. Or, to be more specific, they mimic the same detonation requirements as our modern termination system."
"Uh... can we get that in an understandable language, please?" Yang, as well as all the others were somewhat confused; but really, Yang was the only one super perplexed. Don't get her wrong, she knew he was talking about some programming stuff, but she wanted to at least understand a little bit what he was saying, as opposed to guessing what he meant.
"I'll keep it brief then." Apparently, the general understood her plea. "Every Atlesian war machine, such as our paladins and knights, all have a wireless 'shutdown' command. This is performed via two possible methods: an on site physical panel containing a control board that can manually deactivate the unit, or a specific radio based frequency which, if held at a specific level for the correct amount of time, will trigger the same effect."
"Wait, does that mean you could have shut off the rogue machines back at Beacon during the attack on the festival?" Blake questioned, and Ironwood nodded.
"Had I been in control of my ship early enough, then yes, I would have."
"Would have?" Crossing her arms, Blake inquired further. "What changed?"
"Two things. One: I arrived at Beacon with a much smaller group, and by the time I got on ship, most of the knights and paladins were already reported as destroyed. Two, and I only noticed this one once I started off for Atlas afterwards: the frequency our system had been programmed to emit during such an emergency was changed, which would have rendered the effort moot if we needed to use it. We've fixed the issue since, but that doesn't change the fact that someone familiar with the code had not only altered it to begin with, but they were able to do so from outside my battleship."
Weiss's face tensed up in thought, and she asked, "how do you know they did it from outside?"
"Most of the security footage from that attack was lost, but from what I've recovered, I was able to spot both Roman and Neo escaping, as well as V's own departure. And I know for a fact neither of the two are knowledgeable enough to break into the systems all on their own. Roman himself, as we made our deal, informed me of the device he was given to implant into the systems manually, meaning that whoever hacked the ship had prepared such a malware beforehand."
"And that's what you think is going on here, ain't it?" Yang tried, only for the general to shake his head.
"I don't believe Robyn herself truly knows what's going on. I don't trust her, but it would be outside her current trend to engage willingly with the ones who'd assaulted the Vytal Festival. I'm thinking someone outside is feeding her the information of how to produce that crucial frequency, and since they're sending her the plans for collars, they also know the time it would need to be active. Whoever's sending her those devices is giving her the tools to take down our combat systems, and with this in mind, I'm assuming she's being instructed on how exactly to do it."
"Stop for a moment." Yang held up a hand, staring with a lot more concern than previously. "Am I stupid, or are you saying the shutdown switch for all of Atlas's defenses uses the same system as the illegal slave death collar?"
"Yes, it does."
"Why?!" Yang was, understandably, befuddled; as was everyone else. Ironwood could only grimace, understanding completely their confusion.
"Personally, I haven't the faintest idea. Complacency or laziness, maybe? When I first rose to my current position as head of the Atlas military and gained a seat on the council, I was allowed access to our more sensitive information, and it was then I learned of the collar's execution function being the basis for the military's standard shutdown mechanisms."
"Sir, what does this mean?" Once again, V surprisingly chose to cut in, forcing Ironwood himself to get back on track. The boy, while most likely not understanding a word, was aware of the seriousness of the situation, and so he decided it best to be blunt.
"It means that Robyn Hill currently holds within her hands the tools needed to shut down every single one of our autonomous weapons. And, if I'm being honest here, I believe she knows it."
Raven slid up, smirking heavily.
"Let me guess: we need to put a stop to it?"
"Unfortunately, no." James couldn't hold back his irritated huff. "It's too late for that now. I've arranged a meeting here at the academy between the three of us running in the election. What I need from all of you, is to do whatever it takes to confirm she isn't planning on using such a device. She can't know we know about this, so don't mention any of it to her."
"Then... how are we supposed to find out?" A reasonable question from Miss Belladonna, and sadly, one he didn't have the answer to.
"I don't know."
This would not be an easy task, for any of them, and all of them knew it. They'd never met Robyn in person yet, but based on how the general spoke of her, they weren't sure if she'd even listen. She'd already been stealing from Atlas, and the people of Mantle weren't exactly accepting of the general's overbearing amount of robots; that much was common knowledge. But would she go so far as to shut off everything all for the sake of getting him to stop?
They could only hope not.
Author's note
…
Not exactly a fan of this chapter, but it is what it is. Personally, I wanted to give a bit more dignity to both the council and general, but regardless of how I write it, it always feels like childish bitching; maybe because that's exactly what it is.
Future Ruby is on Monolith's tail, but what does the beast have planned for her? Meanwhile, Ironwood's gotten himself into deeper shit with the council now, and with Robyn and Jacques being invited to the academy, only more chaos can ensue. How will they react to V if they see him, and what will Ruby and the crew in Mantle say when they get back? But hey, at least Raven's here, so that's cool... I hope.
Thing is, where is Qrow?
Only time will tell.
See you later.