The office of the Kingdom Attorney was dimly lit, with the early morning light filtering through half-closed blinds. It was a room that carried the scent of old books and coffee, a place where countless battles had been fought with words instead of swords. Jaune Arc sat behind his mahogany desk, skimming through the thick file marked CINDER FALL. His graying hair and lined face spoke of years of service, but his eyes were sharp, gleaming with the intensity of a man who had never backed down from a challenge.

His assistant, Marigold, entered quietly, placing a fresh cup of coffee in front of him. "They've officially assigned it to you," she said, watching his reaction.

Jaune glanced up, closing the file with a decisive snap. "I figured as much," he said. "They want this case to be a message. After everything that's happened, they need a public victory."

Marigold nodded. "It's not just any case. This is Cinder Fall. You know what she's capable of."

Jaune leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. "I do. She's not just another criminal; she's made a career out of undermining the entire system. Every time we thought we had her pinned down, she slipped through our fingers. This trial isn't about one crime — it's about everything she represents."

He pushed the file across the desk toward her. "The evidence is strong, but it's not just the facts that matter here. It's the narrative. Cinder knows how to play the victim, how to twist a story until she's the one who looks wronged."

Marigold opened the file, skimming the list of charges. "Conspiracy, murder, terrorism… It's a long list."

"It's a litany of chaos," Jaune replied. "But she's already spinning a tale of coercion, that she was forced into these acts by greater powers. If we let her control the narrative, the jury could start to sympathize with her. That's why they gave it to me — they need someone who can cut through the story and show the truth."

Marigold's eyes flicked up to meet his. "And you're ready for this?"

Jaune's lips curled into a thin smile. "I've been ready for this for years. I just didn't know when it would come."

He stood, grabbing his briefcase and slipping the file inside. "The pre-trial hearing is this morning. This is where we set the tone. I want her to know from the start that this won't be a spectacle on her terms."

Marigold's expression softened, her usual sharpness tempered with concern. "You know she's going to fight this with everything she has. She'll turn the courtroom into a stage."

"Let her try," Jaune said, his voice steady. "She's had her time in the shadows, playing her games. Now, it's time for the law to have its say."

He moved to the door, pausing for a moment as he looked back at his assistant. "You've seen me take down career criminals before, but this isn't just about winning a case. It's about restoring faith. The people need to see that someone like Cinder can be held accountable, that the system isn't just for the small fish."

Marigold's confidence in him was clear as she gave a small nod. "Then let's get to work. The courtroom's waiting, and so is she."

Without another word, Jaune stepped out, his stride purposeful, the file tucked under his arm like a weapon ready to be unsheathed. This wasn't just a trial; it was a battle for the soul of the kingdom's justice. And Jaune Arc intended to fight it with everything he had.

The office of Headmaster Ozpin was dimly lit, the soft glow of the city's lights filtering through the tall windows that overlooked Vale. The room carried a sense of timelessness, filled with old books, relics from past battles, and the faint aroma of coffee that seemed ever-present. Ozpin himself sat behind his desk, fingers steepled, his expression a mask of calm contemplation.

Jaune Arc stood on the opposite side of the desk, leaning against a chair with his arms crossed. His demeanor was sharp, focused, the calm before the storm of courtroom drama. He had requested this meeting not as a former student or ally, but as the Kingdom Attorney — a man preparing for the most important case of his career.

Ozpin's smile was small, almost bemused. "It's been a long time since we've spoken like this, Jaune. I'd say it's good to see you, but I gather this is not a social call."

Jaune didn't smile back. "No, Ozpin, it isn't. I'm here because you're listed as a key witness in the case against Cinder Fall, and I need to make sure your testimony is solid. I can't afford any surprises when we're up there."

Ozpin nodded slowly, his gaze shifting to the file Jaune had placed on the desk between them. "I understand. You want to know if there are any skeletons in the closet, any details I've kept hidden that could jeopardize the case."

"Exactly," Jaune said, his voice firm. "Cinder's defense is going to come after every witness we put up there. They'll pick apart your history, your decisions, your motivations. If they find even a sliver of doubt, they'll use it to discredit you — and the entire case could fall apart."

Ozpin leaned back in his chair, taking a slow sip from his ever-present mug. "You've become quite the prosecutor, Jaune. I remember a time when you were hesitant, unsure of your path. Now, here you are, grilling your old headmaster like he's on trial."

"This isn't personal," Jaune replied, his tone clipped. "You know how this works. If I don't push you now, they will push you twice as hard in court. And I need to know that you can handle it."

Ozpin set down his mug, the smile fading from his lips. "Very well. Ask your questions."

Jaune pulled out a notepad, flipping it open to a page filled with scribbled notes. "Let's start with the night of the Beacon attack. You've stated in your preliminary testimony that you had suspicions about Cinder Fall's activities long before the actual assault. Is that correct?"

"Yes," Ozpin said, his voice even. "I had been tracking her movements for months. There were discrepancies, patterns that didn't fit. I suspected she was involved in something larger, but I didn't have enough evidence to take direct action."

Jaune's eyes narrowed. "And yet, you allowed her to remain close to Beacon. You didn't warn the council, didn't alert the authorities. Why?"

Ozpin's gaze didn't waver. "I believed I could control the situation, keep her close and observe her without tipping my hand. It was a calculated risk, one I misjudged. I didn't anticipate the scale of her plan."

Jaune scribbled a note, his expression unreadable. "The defense will seize on that, Ozpin. They'll say you were negligent, that you put the students and staff in unnecessary danger by keeping your suspicions to yourself."

Ozpin sighed, a weary sound that seemed to carry the weight of centuries. "Yes, they might. But I made the best decision I could with the information I had at the time. You know as well as I do that the world isn't always black and white, Jaune."

Jaune leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low, intense pitch. "That's the problem, Ozpin. This isn't about shades of gray. The jury needs a clear picture, a narrative they can follow. If you appear indecisive or uncertain on the stand, it won't just damage your credibility — it'll cast doubt on the entire case."

Ozpin's eyes softened slightly, the barest hint of regret touching his features. "And what would you have me say, Jaune? That I was reckless? That I gambled with the lives of my students?"

Jaune's response was immediate, sharp. "Yes. If that's what it takes to make your testimony airtight, then that's exactly what I need you to say. Own your mistakes, don't try to justify them. The jury will forgive a misstep made in good faith, but they won't forgive a man who looks like he's hiding something."

Ozpin was silent for a moment, his gaze distant, as if he were looking back through time. Finally, he nodded, his voice resigned but resolute. "Very well. I'll do as you ask. I won't try to rationalize my choices. I'll tell them the truth, plain and simple."

Jaune studied him for a long moment, then gave a curt nod. "Good. One more thing — the recordings of your conversations with Cinder before the attack. Are they intact? Any chance they've been tampered with or lost?"

Ozpin's lips pressed into a thin line. "The recordings are complete, untouched. They're stored securely, and I've already handed copies over to your office. They won't find any gaps."

"Perfect." Jaune closed his notepad and slipped it into his briefcase. He took a step back, his expression softening slightly. "You've always been honest with me, Ozpin. I'm counting on that honesty to get us through this."

Ozpin's smile returned, but it was tinged with sadness. "And I'm counting on your tenacity, Jaune. I chose you for this case because I know you'll pursue justice without hesitation, without compromise."

Jaune turned to leave, but paused at the door, glancing back over his shoulder. "One last thing," he said quietly. "If there's anything you're still keeping from me — anything at all — now's the time to tell me. Because once we're in that courtroom, there's no turning back."

Ozpin met his gaze, and for a fleeting moment, something like doubt flashed in his eyes. Then it was gone, replaced by the steady, unyielding resolve of a man who had seen the rise and fall of kingdoms.

"There's nothing more, Jaune," he said softly. "You have my word."

Jaune studied him for a moment longer, then gave a final nod. "I'll hold you to that."

He stepped out of the office, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. The hallway outside was empty, the air cool and still. Jaune took a deep breath, centering himself. He knew the stakes of this trial better than anyone. If Ozpin faltered, if Cinder managed to twist the narrative even a little, everything could fall apart.

But he wouldn't let that happen. Not while he still had a say in it.

The courtroom was filled to capacity, a sea of faces watching with bated breath as the most anticipated trial in Vale's recent history began. The judge, an imposing woman with a stern face and sharp eyes, called the court to order with a rap of her gavel.

Cinder Fall sat at the defense table, her expression coldly serene, dressed in a tailored black suit that gave her an air of unsettling calm. Beside her, Cassandra Blackwell whispered something in her ear, eliciting a faint, mocking smile from Cinder.

Jaune Arc stood at the prosecutor's table, a towering figure of focus and intensity. He adjusted his tie, then rose to address the jury. The room fell silent, all eyes on him.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," Jaune began, his voice steady and clear, cutting through the tension like a knife. "Today, you are faced with a task that is both monumental and necessary. You will hear the story of a woman who has left a scar on this kingdom. A woman who orchestrated chaos, manipulated those around her, and unleashed violence without remorse."

He paused, letting the weight of his words hang in the air. "But this is not just a story about Cinder Fall. It's a story about justice. About holding accountable those who believe themselves untouchable. The evidence we will present is extensive. We have gathered surveillance footage, eyewitness accounts, and a timeline of events that paint a clear picture of a calculated assault on our society."

Jaune took a step closer to the jury box, his gaze softening slightly. "I want you to remember one thing as this trial progresses: We are not here to tell a story of good versus evil. We are here to show you the truth. To present the facts as they are, unvarnished and undeniable."

He gestured to the defense table, where Cinder sat, her expression unchanged. "The defense may argue that Cinder Fall was a victim of circumstance, that she was forced into her actions. But we will show that she was in control every step of the way. That every decision she made was deliberate, every act a part of her plan to tear apart the very fabric of our kingdom."

Jaune's voice lowered, taking on a solemn tone. "This trial isn't just about one person. It's about the lives she shattered. It's about the students of Beacon, the families who lost loved ones, the citizens who lived in fear. This is about justice for them."

He took a deep breath, straightening his posture. "I am not here to persuade you with emotion or theatrics. I am here to present the evidence, to show you the truth. And at the end of this trial, when you have seen and heard everything, I am confident that you will find Cinder Fall guilty of the charges brought against her."

Jaune turned back to his table, giving a brief nod to Marigold before taking his seat. The courtroom was silent, the weight of his words still lingering in the air.

The judge nodded, turning to the defense table. "Counselor Blackwell, you may proceed with your opening statement."

Cassandra Blackwell stood, smoothing her suit jacket as she stepped forward with a graceful, predatory smile. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," she began, her voice like honey, "you have just heard a compelling narrative crafted by the prosecution. But a narrative is not evidence, and a story is not the same as the truth."

As Blackwell continued, Jaune sat back, his expression calm but vigilant. He knew the battle was far from over. But he had set the stage, laid the foundation. Now, it was time to see if the truth would be enough.

The trial had begun, and there was no turning back.

The courtroom was hushed, the air heavy with anticipation. It was the moment everyone had been waiting for — Cinder Fall, the elusive and dangerous mastermind, was on the witness stand. She sat with a carefully constructed look of fragility, her posture hunched, her hands clasped together as if she were holding herself together. Her eyes darted around the room, wide and innocent, playing the part of the misunderstood woman who had been swept up in forces beyond her control.

Jaune Arc stood at the prosecutor's table, his expression unreadable. He adjusted his tie, stepping forward with a calculated calm. He had seen this act before — the soft voice, the downcast eyes, the subtle quiver in her lip. It was a performance designed to manipulate the jury, to make them see her as a victim. But Jaune knew better. He knew the woman behind the mask, and today, he intended to tear that mask away.

He began slowly, his voice even and controlled. "Ms. Fall, you've testified that you were a victim of circumstance, that you were forced into these actions because you had no choice. Is that correct?"

Cinder nodded, her eyes glistening with what seemed like unshed tears. "Yes, that's right," she said softly, her voice trembling. "I never wanted any of this. I was… used. Manipulated by those stronger than me."

Jaune raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly as he watched her. "You were used," he repeated, as if tasting the words. He paced in front of the jury, his hands clasped behind his back. "So you want us to believe that everything you did — the planning, the attacks, the murders — were acts of a woman with no agency? A woman who was simply following orders?"

Cinder's lip quivered, and she gave a small, pitiful nod. "Yes," she whispered. "I didn't have a choice."

Jaune stopped pacing, turning to face her directly. His gaze was piercing, like a knife slicing through the fog of her lies. "Tell me, Ms. Fall," he said slowly, each word measured, "when you orchestrated the attack on Beacon, when you watched the lives of innocent students torn apart — did you feel remorse? Did you hesitate, even for a second?"

Cinder flinched, her eyes darting down as if she couldn't bear to look at him. "I… I didn't want it to happen that way," she said, her voice breaking. "It got out of control. I was afraid."

Jaune's eyes narrowed, his tone hardening. "You were afraid? You? The same woman who executed a plan so meticulously that it took the combined efforts of the entire academy to stop you?"

The jury shifted in their seats, the room filled with the sound of uncomfortable murmuring. Jaune let the silence stretch, watching Cinder carefully.

"Yes," Cinder said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I was afraid. I was just trying to survive."

Jaune stepped closer to the witness stand, his expression cold. "Survive," he repeated, his voice dripping with disdain. "You call it survival when you manipulated innocent people, when you murdered without hesitation, when you betrayed every person who trusted you?"

He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice so only she and the jury could hear. "This act you're putting on — it's a good one. You've convinced a lot of people with it. But not me. I've seen the real you, Cinder."

Cinder's head snapped up, her eyes flashing with something dark and dangerous for the briefest of moments before she forced herself to look down again, adopting her pitiful expression once more.

Jaune saw it, though. And he knew the jury had seen it, too.

He took a deep breath, as if steadying himself. "You've spoken a lot about being forced into your actions," he said, his tone almost gentle now, like a teacher coaxing a student to admit a mistake. "But let's go back to the night of the Beacon attack. You had every opportunity to stop. You had the power to call it off, to walk away. And yet, you didn't. Why is that?"

Cinder didn't answer immediately, her hands clutching the edge of the witness stand. "I… I couldn't," she whispered. "I was trapped. They would have killed me if I refused."

Jaune's smile was thin and humorless. "Who would have killed you, Cinder? Who are these mysterious figures you keep referring to but never name? You've given us vague answers, evasive statements. But the truth is, there is no one else, is there?"

Cinder's face paled, but she kept her voice steady. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think I do," Jaune shot back, his voice rising. He turned to the jury, his face filled with righteous anger. "This woman wants you to believe she was a puppet, pulled along by strings held by some unseen hand. But the evidence tells a different story. The evidence shows us a woman who was in complete control, who orchestrated every move with cold, calculated precision."

He whirled back to face her, slamming his hand down on the witness stand. "Admit it, Cinder. You weren't forced into this. You chose it. You enjoyed it."

Cinder's mask cracked, a flash of raw hatred crossing her face before she managed to rein it in. "You have no idea what I've been through," she hissed, her voice venomous.

Jaune's smile widened, triumphant. "There it is," he said quietly, stepping back so the jury could see her clearly. "There's the real Cinder Fall. Not the broken, scared woman she wants you to see, but the monster underneath. The one who thrives on manipulation, who takes pleasure in the chaos she creates."

He turned to the jury, his voice filled with a mix of sorrow and conviction. "You've seen it for yourselves now. The mask is off. This is the real Cinder Fall — the woman who watched children die with a smile on her face, who manipulated everyone around her to get what she wanted, who destroyed lives without a second thought."

Cinder's face twisted into a snarl, her carefully crafted facade falling apart. "You think you're so clever, don't you, Jaune?" she spat. "You think you've won because you got me to show my true face? I am what this world made me. I am the product of its cruelty, its indifference. I did what I had to do to survive!"

Jaune's expression softened, almost pitying. "No, Cinder," he said quietly. "You did what you did because you wanted power. Because you craved it more than anything else. You could have chosen a different path, but you didn't. You chose to become this."

He faced the jury one last time, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "She wants you to feel sorry for her. She wants you to believe she's a victim. But don't be fooled. The real Cinder Fall is sitting before you now — not a victim, but a villain. And it's time we held her accountable."

The room was silent, the air thick with the gravity of his words. Cinder sat, trembling with fury, her true face exposed for all to see. There was no sympathy left for her, only the cold, hard truth of what she had become.

Jaune gave her one last, solemn look before stepping away. "The prosecution rests, Your Honor."

The judge nodded slowly, her expression one of grim acknowledgment. "The jury will now deliberate. Court is adjourned."

As the gavel came down, Jaune let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He had done it. He had shown the world who Cinder Fall truly was. And for the first time, he felt a flicker of hope that justice might finally be served.

The courtroom was filled with a tense, suffocating silence. The jury had returned after hours of deliberation, their faces solemn as they took their seats. The gallery was packed with spectators, reporters, and survivors of Cinder Fall's attack on Beacon Academy. They all leaned forward, barely breathing, waiting for the final moment that would determine her fate.

The judge rapped her gavel. "The court will now hear the verdict. Has the jury reached a unanimous decision?"

The foreman, a tall man with graying hair, stood, holding a piece of paper in his hand. He took a deep breath, then gave a single nod. "We have, Your Honor."

"Please read the verdict," the judge instructed.

The foreman unfolded the paper, his eyes scanning the words before he spoke. He cleared his throat, his voice steady but carrying the weight of the decision. "On the charge of conspiracy to commit terrorism, for planning and executing attacks against Beacon Academy and its students, we find the defendant, Cinder Fall, guilty."

A murmur of reaction swept through the room, but the judge's sharp rap of the gavel silenced it. Jaune remained still, his face impassive, but a flicker of relief passed over his features.

The foreman continued, his expression growing more somber. "On the charge of first-degree murder, related to the premeditated killing of Pyrrha Nikos, we find the defendant, guilty."

The room shuddered with the weight of the announcement. In the gallery, Ruby Rose clutched her cloak tightly, her knuckles white. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she held them back, her gaze fixed on the back of Cinder's head. Jaune felt a pang of sadness for his friend, but he pushed it aside, focusing on the moment.

"On the charge of attempted murder, for the assault on Headmaster Ozpin with intent to kill," the foreman continued, "we find the defendant, guilty."

Cinder's calm mask slipped slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line. Jaune caught the flicker of rage in her eyes, but she quickly looked down, trying to maintain her composed exterior.

"On the charge of arson, for the deliberate setting of fires that led to the destruction of Beacon Academy property and the endangerment of students and staff, we find the defendant, guilty."

The murmur in the gallery grew louder, a wave of whispers and gasps. The judge banged her gavel again, her face a mask of stern authority. "Order in the court."

The foreman's voice grew more solemn as he moved down the list of charges. "On the charge of aggravated assault, for the attack on multiple students and staff members, including severe injuries inflicted on Qrow Branwen, we find the defendant, guilty."

Cinder's expression hardened, her mask of calm beginning to crack under the pressure. Jaune knew she had expected to sway the jury with her performance, her manipulative charm. But it wasn't working. Not this time.

"On the charge of racketeering, for engaging in a pattern of criminal activity in association with the White Fang, an organized crime group, we find the defendant, guilty."

Jaune allowed himself a small, tight smile. The racketeering charge had been crucial, solidifying Cinder's connection to a broader criminal conspiracy. It painted her not as a lone actor but as a key player in a larger network of violence and chaos.

"On the charge of obstruction of justice, for tampering with evidence and intimidating witnesses during the investigation of the Beacon attack, we find the defendant, guilty."

The gallery was buzzing now, the tension reaching a boiling point. People whispered to one another, the realization settling in that Cinder was being found guilty on every count.

The foreman took a deep breath, reading the final and most serious charge. "On the charge of domestic terrorism, for orchestrating acts of violence intended to intimidate and coerce the civilian population, causing widespread fear and disruption, we find the defendant, Cinder Fall, guilty."

The silence that followed was deafening, as if the very air had been sucked out of the room. The judge gave a curt nod to the jury before turning her gaze to Cinder.

"Cinder Fall," the judge said, her voice firm and authoritative, "you have been found guilty on all charges. The crimes you have committed are severe and have had devastating effects on countless lives. Your actions were premeditated, malicious, and showed a complete disregard for human life."

Cinder's mask shattered completely. She shot to her feet, her face contorted with fury. "You think this matters?" she snarled, her voice dripping with venom. "You think a guilty verdict changes anything? I did what I had to do! This world is weak, and I did what no one else had the strength to do!"

Jaune stepped forward, raising his hand to silence the crowd before they could react. He faced her directly, his expression calm but filled with a quiet, unyielding resolve. "No, Cinder," he said softly. "This isn't about strength. It's about accountability. It's about justice for everyone you hurt, everyone whose lives you destroyed. You're not a martyr. You're not a revolutionary. You're a criminal, and now you'll face the consequences of your choices."

Cinder glared at him, her eyes filled with a hatred so intense it felt like it could burn the room down. "You think you've won, Arc? This isn't the end. You'll see. You'll all see."

Jaune's expression softened, almost pitying. "No, Cinder. This is the end. For you."

The judge banged her gavel one final time, her voice ringing out over the murmurs of the crowd. "The jury's verdict is unanimous. Cinder Fall is found guilty on all charges. Sentencing will proceed immediately. This court is adjourned."

As the gavel fell, the room erupted into a flurry of activity. Reporters scrambled to file their stories, and spectators began whispering excitedly. Ruby and Yang stood together, their faces a mixture of exhaustion and relief. Ruby wiped a tear from her eye, giving Jaune a small, grateful smile.

Jaune nodded back at her, feeling the weight of the moment settle over him. He had done what he set out to do. He had exposed Cinder for what she truly was, and justice had been served.

Marigold touched his arm lightly, her smile weary but filled with pride. "You did it, Jaune," she said softly. "It's finally over."

Jaune took a deep breath, letting the tension drain from his body. "Yeah," he replied, his voice filled with a quiet satisfaction. "It's over."

He turned one last time to watch as Cinder was led away in chains, her face twisted in a mask of rage and defiance. For a brief moment, he felt a flicker of pity for her, but it passed quickly. She had made her choices, and now she would face the consequences.

The doors of the courtroom closed behind her, and Jaune stepped out into the sunlight, feeling a sense of peace he hadn't felt in years. The battle was done, and justice had prevailed.

Thank you for reading. I've been watching too much Law and Order.