"Is there anyone left?"
Pebble held her hand tightly, and Ruby sat on whether she should tell him anything. The truth was: she didn't know. They were still about a day away from Mobius proper - the capital, anyway - so there wasn't much along the path for them to come across. Ruby expected to face constant bombardment from the Grimm, further incentivising constant use of her silver light, and severely weakening her vision.
But it never came.
The dead silence did nothing but tempt a soft hum from Pebble, who awaited patiently as they walked along the dirt road for his answer. And so, with nothing to really gain or lose in terms of wellbeing for either of them, Ruby spoke truthfully.
"I don't know." Carefully, she sat on the idea, further elaborating a bit more. "I'd figured the Grimm might come for us, but so far it's been nothing but a quiet road."
"Think they might have all gone?"
"Maybe." If Salem had begun her war in earnest, then there was the real possibility that she would march upon the nearest kingdom. But that seemed unlikely too, as that direction would lead straight to them, and they'd be faced with the Grimm anyway. The only possible explanation that made any sense in her mind was that Salem was hoarding her forces deeper in, perhaps filling up the capital they marched towards.
She may need to put the sword to use after all.
Things grew quiet again, almost pleasantly so, with a soothingly cool breeze to accompany their trip. They'd been walking for around three days by this point, with the fourth predicted to be the final one before the inevitable crux of her destiny. Once upon a time she was afraid of the failures: of the deaths and losses. She was scared of never being able to see those she loved ever again, of failing each and every person she'd tried to help.
Those fears eventually died out over time, because really, at this point she'd never been able to save anyone, so failure would just be a come-and-go event. At the very least, all that discord and inevitable suffering would come to face off against someone else, and perhaps the repeated cycle of loss may be broken by someone who wasn't her.
The nostalgic sensation of walking along the roads of Mobius quadrupled when they passed up a small hill, coming face to face with an area which tickled that feeling of similarity so recently instilled in her head.
"Hmm?" Pebble noticed her stop, having to do so himself when his hand started tugging her own a couple of steps ahead. He paused, looking back, and asked, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Ruby replied, collecting her emotions yet again, albeit with more hesitance than earlier. "I just recognised this place, that's all."
"Oh..." Looking around, Pebble began with, "Was this field important to you?"
Across the serene landscape, she spied figments of the ghosts cut down by her swarms. Men raiding and pillaging the company of knights carrying the offering from the mission they upheld. Salem and Ozma sent V along to ensure things went well, and they would have too, had he actually made it back to them. She recalled the look in his eyes, the blurred confusion as she plunged the sacred dagger into his back, which whisked him away to fulfill a destiny designed solely for him.
Just as the younger brother decreed; a brother who now awaited her arrival once more. Ruby could feel their collective trembling. The relics, being so close together, knew what was to come because of it, and awaited only the summoning cry which would bring about Remnant's judgment.
"Yes, it was." She picked up pace again, bringing Pebble along, albeit now with far more conviction than ever before. "Let's keep moving for now. We've got a few more hours before sunset, so we should get to a place with some covering to set up camp.
"Okay."
Nodding his little head, the pair continued their journey.
.
.
"How's he doing back there?" Hazel's concern was appreciated, but entirely unnecessary.
"As wonderful as can be!" Truly, the prince was a work of art. Such a perfect blend of both light and dark, creation and destruction. And yet, the brighter side was near-entirely superficial by this point. Salem had mumbled the truth from time to time, but it was... fascinating to see the results up close.
He doubted even the goddess herself now knew of the purity his destructive capabilities radiated. Of course, this wasn't him criticizing his queen, but rather it was an acknowledgement of her priorities. Surely with enough effort and the right mindset, she could peer into the vast string of fibers that make up Vermillion Rose, but that would require her to be present with his new self.
Tyrian recalled the stories she often whispered into his ears whilst conducting his own studies on the Grimm - a right she granted him for his induction into their unique family - but he'd never experienced anything like this. Pyrrha Nikos: the woman who seemed so similar to the boy, and yet ironically was nothing like the man who made her. Pyrrha's dark gift felt... artificial, in a sense; lacking that purity that made Vermillion's allure so inviting.
So similar to the radiance leaking from behind the black door, but entirely reversed.
"Right." Hazel sighed ahead, sounding disappointed and fatigued; Tyrian didn't blame him, really, as not all could fully comprehend beauty like this enough to appreciate it. "Good to know."
Quite~
Salem... she was a tricky mistress to understand, and even now, Tyrian felt as though his predictions for her reasonings and true magnificence were still mostly one-sided; as in, he was entirely off about both her intellect and importance within the world. After all, Vermillion was her champion: her chosen hero, and the warrior who represented everything she stood for. Perhaps she did catch sight of his uniquely splintered soul; how it never looked to mix with the darkness inside, but flowed in perfect unity regardless.
It was like a line had been drawn across the spot where they intertwined, staining it with ink and rendering sight of the union invisible to mortal eyes.
But said union was there, one need only rely on senses beyond their own perception, spying not what was right, but instead what was wrong. Behaviors that, while simple for most, would be utterly ridiculous coming from others, such as how the essence of Grimm present in all born of the black pits did not casually contain specks of nothingness. A rather crude observer would claim foul play or faulty equipment, and once realizing fault on their end, would thus label it a grand discovery and mystery.
But Tyrian did not see himself a subscriber of that simple outlook.
This man possessed power beyond their feeble comprehension; strength he'd only ever spied inside Salem herself during the midst of her resurrections. That incalculable taint spread through her champion as well, albeit on a more fundamental level. And the light in his soul: it too brought a tear to his eye from the excitement of it all.
All-Seer: his semblance which delivered upon him forbidden secrets and unsought truths. Tyrian once scoffed and ridiculed his natural-born gift in his early years, back when he tried to paint himself as "sane" along with the rest of nature's self-declared "sentient" animals. However, he'd eventually come to realize and accept the truth of his talent, and his inquisitive mind opened up to devour the nutrients his semblance fed it.
And then he met Salem, who gave him the tools to truly begin his studies.
With a flick of her wrist, the Grimm bade her commands, leaving him and all others under her metaphorical wing to be welcomed among the ranks of Humanity's natural predators. One word and they were rendered docile, and Salem spared no expense in granting him any and all scientific equipment he dared request, regardless of cost or scarcity.
But he would later come to find that those particular instruments, while useful on primitive creatures, proved insignificant when tested on the elevated beings that were the Grimm. The Grimm were a dignified race, who responded best not with barbaric needles or prods, but rather conversation amongst their kind. Their chatter possessed no words, only the silent acceptance of life's deepest desire.
The natural command present within the core of existence: the order to execute change.
Humans - and by extension their evolutionary cousins, the Faunus - may well be the only ones entirely capable of enacting both breeds of change, but be it creation or destruction, every living thing within Remnant bore the inherent drive to alter the world around them. Perhaps this was a leftover byproduct of the old gods' betrayal: the abandonment of their child, the world they had made.
While this may be the case, that didn't leave Remnant solely depressed; she'd long since learned how to fend for herself, maybe even loathing her fathers who failed to raise and care for her.
But such was the way of nature: survival was the excuse in every creature that allowed them to carry out life's plan - they just didn't know it.
.
.
Roman sat at the large, round table in the commander's office of the airship, groaning heavily with his head down on the flat. Neo did her best to cheer him up by patting his back, and while he appreciated the gesture, it wouldn't do much for him, unfortunately.
"We should focus on getting the people to Vale first and foremost." Robyn voiced her opinion calmly, although he could hear the sprinkles of stress pulling down on every pause between the words, proving that this too was just an act - a lot of people have been "acting" as opposed to letting their feelings show clearly, so this wasn't a surprise. Sighing, Robyn then addressed a more prominent concern. "Look, I'm just as lost as the rest of you, but the sight of a big blue guy springing up out of nowhere will only scare everyone more. Once they're off the ship, I don't give a rat's ass how frequently you drag him out, but not before then."
"Every second Atlas remains floating is a second Salem can put to use." Ozpin - in Oscar's body again - pointed out. "We've taken a huge risk loading everyone onto the ships first before triggering the bomb; are we certain we can spare even more time?"
That was a whole other issue entirely: the detonation.
Roman was ready for when Raven would start shoving the people through, and he accepted being one of the main 'anchors' for her semblance to get the deed done. This meant he'd been one of the first people loaded onto the ships naturally before their departure, with Neo being tasked with one of the other ones. His job, as with the rest of them, had been to keep the people docile; kind of hard with being a criminal and all. But power beseeches obedience, and most of them - barring a few cocky fools, who he'd swiftly "convinced" - settled down and did as demanded... disregarding the constant droning of toothless complaints hurled his way.
And then the bomb went off; an explosion that shook him to the core.
He knew Atlas was capable of packing a real punch, but to see half of the island blown to smithereens reminded him of 'why' they were constantly under scrutiny for their technological developments. In a war scenario all it would take was the relinquishment of morals and fear of unnecessary loss to level the entirety of Remnant. If they made single explosives capable of taking a literal bite out of entire islands, then he feared for what could happen if a kingdom's worth of them went off all at once.
Remnant as they knew it would not only be over, but it would rival their shattered moon for remaining landmass after all was said and done.
Slamming her hands down with an irritated snarl, Robyn essentially began letting loose her lingering frustrations.
"If we blew the lid off any earlier we'd all be dead! What happens then, huh!?" To be fair, Ozpin flinched somewhat at that, but Robyn wasn't done. "Dust! We took a risk even triggering that thing with how close we still were!"
"She has a point," Blake mumbled under her breath, which Roman could only hear so well because the irritants of those present from team RWBY were to his immediate right. "Several people nearly fell off the bow; both soldiers and civilians."
"There!" Robyn motioned to Blake with her arms, "Even they get it!" only to then contort into jabbing a finger Ozpin's way, eyes trained on his own with a remorseless edge. "Maybe you've forgotten, what with your immortal wizard bullshit, but the rest of us, we're normal!" Bringing her hand back she pressed it flat against her chest, continuing her point with, "We don't get to just scurry back into a new body. Once we're gone, we're gone. No amount of honor-bound duty or universal praise will ever change that fact."
No cause can ever justify sacrificing the innocent.
Roman hated how easily he understood her point, because it only made sense. Time and time again, these idiotic, impressionable kids are told to go out and die for what was right; completely ignorant to just what it means to sacrifice yourself. But the world wasn't so simple, and the kind and compassionate will continue to throw themselves into the fire; not because they want to, but because they'd hate themselves if they didn't. Those with power made one of two choices: either hoard more power, or cast it out for something greater.
These wannabe "heroes" always chose the latter, but at least Robyn seemed to understand what she was doing.
Looking up, Roman pondered a single thought.
Do you get a kick out of feeling like you're helping the needy, or is there something else you're looking for? He spied it then, the innate ire in her eyes as she seethed and sat down, looking not at Ozpin in particular, but just beyond. Or maybe, is it the necessity of these decisions that you despise most? The fact that you know the innocent have to suffer to protect everyone, because you can't truly know who deserves to live or die?
Honestly, he didn't know if he was right or wrong, or whether he'd get the answers to those questions. In the end, Roman saw it as nothing more than simple curiosity, and his own way to rationalize his life now.
Honestly, Roman wondered why he couldn't be as aloof as Neo; at least she took everything in stride.
.
.
Everyone was always so dramatic.
Neo, whilst patting Roman's back, looked at the stupid scene as it unfolded in full. Ozpin, that undying old crone, again began with his excuses; in his eyes they were true, but an excuse was an excuse - no purpose in lying to yourself when it didn't change how others received it.
"I know." And so he went on to rebound. "I apologize; clearly I haven't been doing a good job explaining myself. I'm not claiming that setting off the explosive earlier would have made things better. I'm instead trying to state the explicit fact that Salem continues to grow as a hazard the more time we leave her be. Blowing up the bomb earlier would have indeed caused senseless death, but that doesn't change the fact that Salem was given more time to ready herself and enact any schemes we may not be privy to."
"You're getting kind of hard to follow here." Weiss, the pretty little princess, jumped in and explained it perfectly. "We know Salem's growing in power and becoming more dangerous with time, but why bring it up?"
"Because we're far enough away that she cannot possibly catch up by this point." At least he could say some things blunt; good for him. "It doesn't matter what we make with the relic, but so long as we continue to sleep on it, we're giving Salem a chance to scavenge from Atlas. She may seem complacent, but her ability to adapt anything and everything into the Grimm themselves is not to be taken lightly."
"We're well aware of that," Weiss admitted, not so subtly shooting a worried eye towards the empty seat near the end of RWBY's side on the table. The titular leader herself hadn't exactly heeded the call for them to meet up, with her team giving the excuse that she needed some space to think on things. The general and wizard accepted this, and it seems like it was for the better, seeing as they were bringing her into the conversation now. "But Ruby is... going through a lot right now."
That shut them up, for a good bit too... And honestly, Neo didn't blame them.
She herself was under the mindset that shit happens; life was gonna life, personal feelings be damned. Sure, Salem was spooky, but she was no more involved in things than she had been before; they were just aware of it now and choosing to fight back. All this doom and gloom for a world which was already screwed to begin with... what a waste.
Neo certainly didn't want to die, of course, and she could understand why Roman and the rest were spooked too; that was all okay, and natural too. But what good was there in diving beneath the flood? If life was going to slap you, your best bet was to dodge, or block, or take the myriad of other available actions afforded you in the time before the slap. Yeah, some things seemed inevitable, but that didn't mean they were.
From the looks of it, her new crew wasn't so much worried about how they were going to plan around things, but more so frightened of what possible failures might lead to - "might," being the key word here.
Everyone was going to die: that was an inevitable fact that all living creatures of this world had to face. Neo once deeply feared it, the concept that death was inescapable and cruel, but she'd later come to learn that wasn't quite the case. Death wasn't this merciless monster who wanted to take the fun away; to ruin everything the victims held dear. Death was merely the result of a life fulfilled.
People of all different kinds had different ideas of what a fulfilling life was, completely blind to the simple fact that a full life was nothing more than greeting the day. There was no meaning in it, and no amount of money or success would ever validate those who, fundamentally, felt insecure of their place or position in life. That was why she felt it so important that she face the day with whatever smile she could, because when nothing really mattered, the only logical course of action was to seek out happiness.
Simply because happiness made living life worth it.
You didn't need to be a master of crafts; you didn't need to make incredible breakthroughs in any given field; you didn't need to save everyone and everything around you, and you sure as heck didn't need to put on a brave face for everyone else. You did these things because they made you happy; they made you feel worthwhile and fulfilled, which in turn brought you happiness.
Not everyone could simply enjoy the little things in life. Societal pressure and self-loathing would forever pound guilt and doubt into the minds of those living in the world, but a key factor of life that Neo had to teach herself as she grappled with the changes in her own life was that you didn't need to conform to these demands or expectations. The life of a content peon working his farm stood equal to the stressed out ruler who did his best to uphold his kingdom.
The only difference was what made each one happy.
Roman had saved her once before, from a life she'd seen no point in living. He'd extended her a hand when no one else would, and despite whatever reasons he had for doing so, she felt a sense of kinship with him afterwards. He was the dad she wished she'd had, and even when he was giving her orders, he still looked out for her. He didn't need to do that, but he did, because even if he would openly deny the extent of it, he felt the same as her.
That was the funny thing about all of this: she, the stone cold killer, still embraced the warmth of her own little family.
And so she would stick by his side, and now theirs too, because seeing Roman happy and content instilled those feelings in her - even if he wasn't happy right now, but that would eventually change. Sure, she still didn't have any strong feelings about these kids and conspirators yet, but they'd grow on her eventually...
Of that she was sure.
.
.
"I know..."
"This never gets easy, does it?"
"No. It does not."
"We all do," James interrupted, finishing off his sentence for him. Ozpin offered a thankful nod to his lifelong companion, who had not only wrestled with his sanity, but also came out on top. "The things we've learned were... especially disturbing, much more for your leader in particular. She will no doubt need time to grapple with the implications, and I'm sure Ozpin feels the same as we all do. None of us want to pressure her into joining the event, but we cannot leave her out either."
"He knew her, though," Yang opened up, breaking her silence with an unusually somber tone. "Even if it was another incarnation of her from super long ago, Ambrosius still spoke like they were companions in... something." Her eyes gained this worried glimmer. "It wasn't good either, and I think that's what hurts her the most: she's afraid of what she did."
"But that wasn't her." Blake pointed out. "She may share the same soul, but if it's true that souls recycle, then that means everyone else does too. For all we know, each and every one of us might be our ancestors reborn."
Weiss seemed to catch what Blake was saying.
"And we can't hold ourselves responsible for what they've done, both due to the time they were raised and the environment that shaped their personalities and lives."
"Tell that to Rubes," Yang mumbled, evening out her breathing and answering with a bit more conviction on her face. "Sensible or not, the fact that Ambrosius recognised her with a sour feeling, even if he retracted and admitted his feelings weren't right, won't stop her from feeling down about it."
They were quiet for a bit, but then Yang's intrigue seemed to double.
"Actually… that reminds me of something." She eyed everyone. "Salem said she remembered a Ruby Rose before, and with Ambrosius saying Ruby's soul was recycled…"
"You think that's who she once was." Weiss finished for her, and Yang nodded.
"Jinn said we couldn't go back in time, no matter what. But Ruby felt so sure she had." Yang's thoughts were then added onto by Blake.
"The woman who watched over the little V in the vision… Do you think that's why she's always been more worried about him." Blake's face shifted a shade darker. "Is it possible she may, somehow, be remembering everything from back then?"
"But that's impossible, isn't it?" Weiss brought up. "Souls can't remember their past lives."
"Maybe it's V." Yang whispered, shutting down all noise and drawing in eyes. "Maybe him being here… it reminded her soul of him."
"But that isn't possible." Weiss spat, albeit with less conviction. "Memories are formed in the brain. Being reborn with them would be impossible."
"But what if souls could remember?" Blake again took the reins. "I know it's a strange idea, but I've seen it in one of my novels before: The Man With Two Souls."
"Life isn't a book." Weiss muttered, only to retract and relent. "But with all of this… I guess it's not entirely off the table." Her eyes shifted over to him now, and Ozpin saw how she shrunk in a tiny bit. "Especially when we already have a soul possessing lifetimes of memories."
"Guess that proves it." Yang tossed out with a tiny bit of flare, and Ozpin decided it was best they end things now before they got out of hand.
"Regardless of the specifics, it makes no difference now. But with the struggles Miss Rose is going through, we shall leave her time to find the answers herself. Summoning Ambrosius can wait."
"Huh?" Oscar wasn't the only one a little curious about his decision, as Robyn pointed out.
"Just like that?" Her eyes, scowl, and crossed arms betrayed any sense of subtlety in her disbelief. "When you were so ready to rush in and hinder Salem."
"Miss Rose is, understandably, fearful for things she is unsure of. Forcing her to face that challenge head on before she has a chance to come to grips with it will only harm her resolve, perhaps even destroying her ability to overcome the hurdle entirely." He followed that up with a tired breath, being forced to acknowledge his own faults as well. "And at the same time, I appear to have fallen into the trappings of dread myself. Whether we halt her advance now or later won't make as much of a difference as I'd rather believe. Salem will still find use from the ruins of Atlas, supposing we bury the island now or tomorrow. With that in mind, I feel it may be best if we take some time to focus and recuperate."
"Huh... That's not a bad idea."
"Had you any doubts?"
"Plenty... But I'd also have doubts even if I agreed with using the relic right now, so that isn't saying much."
"I understand. And... I'm sorry, Oscar, for robbing you of control so many times, and for so long."
"Hey: as long as we're alive and we get to remain in one piece, I'm fine with letting you take control. I'm not a great fighter yet, so it really is best letting you handle those on your own."
Not much more got discussed after that: everyone basically agreed to take a while to calm down and rest. Salem could be dealt with later, but it was clear to all they really needed to let out their stress in one form or another. But while they went their separate ways, Ozpin found himself chatting with Oscar once more as they stared out over the railing on the main deck, watching as the world carelessly flew by.
"Oscar, may I ask you something?"
"Go ahead."
"Do you hate what will happen to us? Our merging, I mean."
"I'm... not really sure." Watching the sunset slowly inching down for the second day of their journey to Vale, Oscar looked back on that fact, which he'd mostly ignored up until now. "I mean, of course I'm afraid; why wouldn't I be? The whole thing implies I'll lose myself, and I can't help but wonder if it'll be like dying."
"Hmm..." Ozpin remained quiet for a little bit, before coming back a touch more resolute. "Would you like to know how it feels? I can tell you how I experienced it myself, when I became "Ozma" so to speak."
"I, uh..." He wasn't sure, but then again, what harm was there? "I guess. It's going to happen anyway, right? It wouldn't hurt to know how it went with you."
"It'll be the same for you as well, but I suppose I'll need to elaborate on that for this to make sense."
It almost felt as though Ozpin were clearing his throat, but he soon began.
"I can remember the days of my youth, as Ozpin alone. I recall studying and training to be a hunter, but not for the reasons I now hold today. I recall how, as a young man, I saw myself as superior to my peers due to my semblance, but as strange as it may sound, it was not so much out of belittlement. I didn't look at my fellow hunters as lesser, but as ill-equipped instead. My semblance, the bubble I can surround my person with, was impenetrable in my eyes."
"It was? What happened to change that?"
"Nothing; I was merely young and ignorant. I believed myself to be in a rather unique position, taking to the battlefields during both training and graded excursions, planting myself firmly in the center of violence, and concentrating on my darkest of emotions. Hatred, despair, and suffering of all kinds filled my mind, and I let them coat me in a serenade of negativity, blatant for all to witness."
It took him a second, but Oscar caught on quick enough.
"I get it: you made yourself a beacon for the Grimm."
"Precisely." Something seemed strange about the happiness he released with that. "I made myself the star attraction of the battlefield, letting the monsters hammer away at me, and thus giving my teammates and other hunters a chance to pick the Grimm off without worry. I had, ironically enough, become a literal symbol of Humanity's perseverance in the face of adversity: A bright unbreakable light that kept all dangers at bay."
"Humanity's perseverance, huh?" Oscar stifled a chuckle. "No offense, but that sounds kind of cringe."
"On that we both agree; I was quite foolish as a young man, hotheaded and under the delusion I meant more to the battle because of my strategy and semblance."
"So what changed?" The Ozpin they knew wasn't exactly like this supposed counterpart, and it took more than a suggestion to shift from that explicit of a personality.
"He came to me, as I have to you now."
"Ozma.. or, I guess just you." A little hard to convey when they seemed one in the same... like he himself would be later on in life.
"Well, he mainly referred to himself as Osiris, but you are correct."
"Osiris... as in, the warrior king of Vale?"
"The one and only. I could tell you about his quirks and personality, but we'd be here all day. To put it simply, he was everything you'd expect a king to be, but with a more violent outlook. For as much as he fought for peace, he still embraced violence and war as a part of himself; the era he grew up in shaped how he lived and died."
"He doesn't sound like you."
"Because he wasn't; the same way I am with you. We were completely different people, and yet as time progressed and his voice faded, I began to recall his memories and the reasons behind his decisions more clearly. Consider this, Oscar: when seeing my memories, you are able to tell they're not yours, correct."
"Pretty much." Ozpin's memories, while they were clear as day, never felt... 'right' for him. He could see the man act and speak, but he could never fully grasp why each decision was made, and it seemed Ozpin knew this.
"Always a little confusing, isn't it? Seeing someone do or say something, but being unable to fathom completely why. This is what separates the beginning and end of the merge, because as I went along, I eventually began to understand the 'why' behind his decisions; it was as if I were rationalizing them myself."
"Really?"
"Yes. It's strange, in a sense, to call it a 'merge.' One would think that meant the old personality would in some way alter the new one, but that couldn't be further from the truth. As my days with him went on, I felt less like I was recalling another's memories and life, and more like I was unlocking my own hidden past."
"Was it... was it like Ambrosius said with Ruby; how her soul was a reincarnation of an older one?"
"I believe he does describe it well. Although I cannot say for certain, it really does feel like looking back into a past life, but being able to keep your current mindset. Make no mistake, I was able to see both how and why he gained his personality, but I myself never felt the need to revert into it. I was who I was, and it was less a sense of forgetting myself, and more that I had grown beyond my old self."
"But what about the whole "recycling" thing? If we really are recycled souls, wouldn't you essentially be eating them, making it so they can't be reused, and instead cutting down on the amount recycled?" It seemed concerning if it were true, that Ozpin was slowly gobbling up every soul in Remnant. Thankfully, he had a theory for this, and shared it immediately.
"That may be, but I'm also not sure. Having two souls feels... different, than having one. I can't quite explain it, but if what Ambrosius said was true, then it may be that you yourself will be left only with Ozma's soul."
"Okay… Sorry, but I'm lost again."
"My original self, Ozma, was told by the gods that he would never be alone, this much is true, but it was never explicitly stated that 'all' the companions I made would stick by my side. I believe that, if souls really are recycled, then maybe Ozma's original soul is the only one to stick around with the new host after a merge, taking it into itself for a time. This is merely speculation on my part, but I'm thinking that when we fully merge together, the 'me' you know as Ozpin will be let go, and only Ozma will remain silently inside your head. You'll keep all the memories, and be able to look at and understand the personalities of each host, but the soul that was my own from birth will be released into the wilds once more, to be reborn anew when the time comes."
"Woah... That's... that's really weird." Oscar then paused: a new thought having sprung up in his head. "Do you think it's possible that you're not really jumping into new souls every time, but instead the same ones who are reincarnated with every generation?"
"Who can say? Perhaps we've been companions for centuries all along, and we just don't know."
What a disturbing idea... and yet, it carried within its own form of comfort. If they were indeed lifelong companions, then it wasn't so much Ozma's soul infecting and ruining the lives of every host he meets, but instead a collection of close knit friends helping one another to see their mission complete, and even save each other.
For some odd reason, Oscar was hoping it was the latter, because the idea of having friends like that felt comforting; sort of like the group they had going now.
Author's note
...
Woah; we've got a big one this time.
With such a big event having gone down, I felt it best to give everyone a bit of the limelight, through various perspectives - okay, we're missing Penny, Clover, and a whole slew of others, but roll with it. Yeah, it seems lazy that we didn't get to feel the explosion directly, but all it would be is everyone getting caught off guard for a second as the ship was hit, with next to no real risk or anyone in danger.
Hey, y' all got to see Pyrrha pull off a light-barrage on the Grimm, so we've already covered the explosion bit.
On another note, everyone's coping with the events of Atlas in their own way, doing their best to reason out what their next decision should be. Ruby is noticeably absent this time, having taken some time to digest what Ambrosius revealed. We've also got some more Ozpin and Oscar time, with them speculating how things work to the best of their abilities.
All in all, I feel this is a decent chapter... albeit a little long for my tastes.
Anyway, that's it for this time. Until next chapter!