"Like I said, Ozpin, my choice has been made!"

The room was full of tension, the air heavy with the weight of James Ironwood's words. He stood behind a holographic screen, his sharp blue eyes trained on Ozpin. The General's voice, usually measured, carried an edge that was impossible to ignore. Beside Ozpin, Glynda Goodwitch remained stoic, though her tightly crossed arms betrayed her discomfort. Qrow leaned against the far wall, his expression unreadable, while Leonardo Lionheart shifted uneasily in his seat, his nervous fingers drumming against the table.

"I've made my position clear again and again, Ozpin," Ironwood said, his tone clipped. "This entire situation reeks of a trap. They want us to commit forces to Menagerie, to stretch us thin. Even a child could see it. The question is, why can't you?"

Ozpin's calm gaze didn't waver. He sipped from his ever-present cup of coffee, his silence inviting Ironwood to continue.

Ironwood didn't need further prompting. He gestured to the screen behind him, where a map of Remnant flickered to life. Red markers dotted the kingdoms of Mantle and Atlas, growing more numerous and erratic around Argus. "Since receiving your message, Argus has been hit repeatedly. White Fang insurgents, Crown operatives, and coordinated Grimm attacks — our forces are stretched to the brink of just holding the line. Mantle's seeing an uptick in terrorist activity, and I've received reports of new and powerful allies joining the Crown's cause in Vacuo. Not to mention the SDC mining facilities, which have been attacked in increasing numbers. It's chaos."

Ozpin finally set his mug down with a soft clink, his expression still unreadable. "And you believe these events are connected?"

Ironwood let out a bitter chuckle. "Of course they're connected. Every move they've made has been calculated to destabilize us. And now you want me to divert what little I have left to an island that, if I recall correctly, chose to sever ties with us? Menagerie has always made it clear they didn't want anything to do with Atlas."

The room fell silent for a moment, save for the faint hum of the holographic screen. Ironwood's words hung in the air like a challenge.

Qrow finally broke the silence, his voice low but cutting. "So what, James? You're just going to leave them to die?"

Ironwood's glare snapped to Qrow. "Don't you dare twist this into a matter of apathy. My duty is to protect Atlas, Mantle, and the people who depend on me. I can't afford to risk everything for a land that's always been hostile to us."

Glynda spoke up, her voice measured but firm. "No one is asking you to risk everything, General. But if we ignore Menagerie now, the consequences could be catastrophic. If the Grimm are allowed to overrun the island and spill into Anima, the entire continent could be at risk. That will affect Atlas as well."

"And how do you propose I act on that?" Ironwood shot back. "Divert fleets I don't have? Deploy soldiers who are already overwhelmed? Ozpin has Huntsmen of his own. Why can't he spare some to handle this?"

Ozpin's calm demeanor never faltered. "Because this isn't just a threat to Menagerie, James. It's part of a larger plan, one that involves Salem. We need to address it together."

"Together," Ironwood repeated, his voice heavy with skepticism. "As if my forces aren't already carrying enough of the burden."

Leonardo Lionheart cleared his throat, his nervousness palpable. "Perhaps we should reconsider, Ozpin. My Huntsmen resources are… limited, but I'm willing to support the effort however I can. However, sending all our efforts to Menagerie might leave our own kingdoms vulnerable, as James here says."

Ozpin turned to Lionheart, his tone reassuring but firm. "No one is suggesting we abandon our defenses. But this is a matter of necessity. The forces gathering in Menagerie are not just a threat to that island. They're a prelude to something far more dangerous."

Ironwood folded his arms, his expression cold. "And what exactly are you basing that on, Ozpin? You have no proof, no concrete intelligence. All you have are theories and your… gut instinct."

Ozpin met Ironwood's glare with quiet resolve. "Sometimes, James, a gut instinct is all we have. But in this case, I have more than that. Reports from Menagerie indicate the presence of modified Grimm and advanced technology. This is not a random surge of activity. It's deliberate."

Ironwood shook his head, his frustration clear. "And yet, you expect me to gamble everything on a theory. If I commit forces to Menagerie and Salem strikes here, the blood of Atlas will be on my hands."

"The blood of Menagerie will be on all of ours if we do nothing," Qrow said sharply.

The tension in the room crackled like a live wire. Ironwood's blue eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as his patience frayed. He exhaled sharply, the sound heavy with restrained anger.

"Menagerie's protection," Ironwood began coldly, his words deliberate, "is the obligation of the Faunus people. It's the responsibility of Belladonna and whoever runs that island now — not Atlas, not Mantle, and certainly not ours."

Qrow pushed off the wall he had been leaning against, crossing his arms. "That so, Tin Man? You're really gonna sit there and claim you've got no skin in this game?"

Ironwood turned his glare to Qrow. "If protecting my people first makes me heartless, then so be it. I'll be the Tin Man if it means Atlas stays standing."

"You're the Tin Man all right," Qrow shot back, his voice a mix of sarcasm and venom. "Too bad you've lost your heart along the way."

"And you sit here and do nothing but argue? Spare me your sarcasm, Qrow," Ironwood straightened, his imposing figure rigid with tension. "Despite your attempts to irritate me, I'm the one you all turn to when the stakes are too high. The one expected to clean up the mess. Your Vale Huntsmen are too individualistic — fighting your little battles, following your own whims and yet you dare to criticize Atlas for looking out for its own when you can't seem bothered to look after your own?"

"You've got a funny way of calling us out," Qrow said with a sneer. "Sure, we're individualistic, but I bet even we could take your soldiers down if it came to it."

Ironwood rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes. You're strong. Strong enough to take on Grimm hordes and save the day, but not strong enough to rescue your damn students when they are out there fighting your battles, are you?"

Qrow bristled, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "You've got no right—"

"I've got every right!" Ironwood snapped, his voice rising, his frustration boiling over. "You sit there and point fingers at me, but let's not pretend Ozpin's done much better. He hasn't made a move either, has he? Too afraid of what Salem's planning, and yet you expect me to march blindly into this trap and risk my people like slabs of meat you can just throw to the meat grinder!? How DARE all of you!"

Ozpin, who had remained composed throughout, finally spoke. "James, you're letting your frustration cloud your judgment. This isn't about apportioning blame—it's about acting before the situation escalates beyond control."

"Spare me that talk!" Ironwood slammed a gloved hand on the table, the sound reverberating through the room. "And yet, you haven't sent your Huntsmen to Menagerie either, Ozpin. You're sitting here, asking me to risk Atlas, while Vale remains untouched. Again. How dare you?"

Lionheart, who had been silent for most of the exchange, raised a hand as if to quell the rising hostility. "Perhaps we should—"

Ironwood cut him off. "Enough, Lionheart. You've made your position clear. Huntsmen resources are 'limited.'" He threw the word out like an accusation, his voice dripping with disdain.

Glynda stepped forward, her voice sharp but tempered. "General, we're not trying to burden Atlas alone. We understand the challenges you're facing, but Menagerie—"

"Glynda," Ironwood interrupted, his tone brooking no argument, "don't. I'm not here to be persuaded, especially not by someone who hasn't sent a single Huntsman to Menagerie herself."

Glynda's lips pressed into a thin line, her frustration clear, but she held her tongue.

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of Ironwood's words settling over everyone. Ozpin finally broke the tension, his voice steady but tinged with resolve. "James, whether you believe it or not, this isn't about forcing your hand. It's about recognizing that Salem's forces are spreading. If we don't act as one, there may come a day when even Atlas cannot stand alone."

Ironwood didn't reply immediately. His eyes swept across the room, lingering on each face before he exhaled deeply. "I'll consider it when you act. But don't expect Atlas to bear the brunt of this burden. My priority remains to Atlas and Mantle. That won't change. Fight your own battles. Are you not proud of your Huntsmen? Show them they are worth a Lien, then!"

The holographic screen flickered off, leaving the room in tense silence. Qrow muttered something under his breath, but Ozpin shot him a look, silencing him. Glynda folded her arms, her frustration clear, while Lionheart adjusted his collar nervously.

As the weight of the exchange settled over them, Ozpin sighed and picked up his mug. "We'll have to find another way."

Qrow shook his head, his expression grim. "He's not wrong, you know. About the trap."

Ozpin's gaze was distant, thoughtful. "Perhaps. But we don't have the luxury of inaction. Not anymore."

The tension in the room shifted subtly as Leonardo Lionheart cleared his throat, his demeanor a mix of faux concern and calculated hesitation. He adjusted his tie nervously, drawing the room's attention.

"With all due respect to Ironwood's position," Leonardo began, his tone cautious, "I think it's worth considering… where exactly Dr. Merlot is getting his funding."

Ozpin raised a brow, intrigued by the shift in topic. "Go on, Leonardo."

Leonardo leaned forward, tapping on a holographic console. A series of images appeared on the screen. At the center was a bearded, middle-aged man in a business suit with a half-black, half-white shirt. His cybernetic left eye gleamed in the picture, giving him a distinct, almost unsettling appearance.

"This is Fort Lee," Leonardo explained. "The CEO of Starhead Industrial Company. A notable name in the tech industry. Officially, his company develops advanced robotics and security systems. Unofficially…" His voice trailed off, leaving the implication hanging.

Qrow groaned, crossing his arms. "Get to the point, Leo."

Leonardo hesitated for a moment before switching to the next image. This one was damning. Dr. Merlot shaking hands with Fort Lee, both men flanked by members of the White Fang. The transaction captured in the image showed a briefcase exchanging hands.

"According to reports," Leonardo continued, "Fort Lee has been seen in contact with known White Fang operatives. Witnesses claim he's provided them with advanced weaponry and, more disturbingly, funding."

Ozpin's expression darkened, his fingers steepling as he studied the image. "Are you suggesting that Fort Lee has joined Salem's inner circle?"

Leonardo shook his head quickly. "I have no concrete evidence of that. It's merely speculation, Headmaster. But the connection between Fort Lee, the White Fang, and Merlot is undeniable."

"Speculation, my ass," Qrow muttered, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "This whole thing's a shitshow."

"Perhaps," Ozpin replied, his tone measured. "But the implications are troubling. If Fort Lee is funneling resources to Merlot and the White Fang, we could be dealing with an even larger network than we initially thought."

Qrow redirected the conversation, his irritation cutting through the heavy atmosphere. "Look, Oz, that's all fine and dandy, but we've still got students in Menagerie. What about them? You can't just leave them there while we unravel whatever conspiracy this is."

Ozpin met Qrow's gaze, his expression betraying the weight of the choices before him. "I understand your concern, Qrow. But at this moment, I cannot spare additional students. Team CFVY has already been dispatched to Vacuo, and the second to fourth years are scattered across various missions."

"So what?" Qrow demanded. "We just leave them to fend for themselves? It has been weeks, Oz!"

"Atlas is tightening its security around Argus, Mantle, and Atlas proper," Ozpin said, his tone almost resigned. "Even the SDC's forces are stretched thin dealing with the Crown. General Ironwood's position on Menagerie is unlikely to change."

Qrow scowled, his grip tightening around his flask. "That's not good enough. If Ironwood won't act, then I'll go myself. I'll round up whatever Huntsmen I can find who are still willing to fight."

Ozpin's eyes narrowed, concern etched across his face. "And how do you propose to do that, Qrow? Many of the Huntsmen I've reached out to have gone missing. The same can be said for Mistral."

Leonardo stepped in once again, this time with a tone of regret. "I've done what I can, Headmaster, but the list of Vale Huntsmen you gave me… many of them haven't responded. Some of them have outright disappeared."

Ozpin leaned back in his chair, the weight of the revelation pressing down on him. His gaze drifted to the holographic image of Menagerie, its outline now a symbol of despair. "This is deeply concerning. Huntsmen vanishing in two kingdoms, an island overrun with Grimm, and now these connections to Fort Lee…"

Qrow slammed his flask onto the table. "So what's the plan, Oz? Because I'm done waiting around. If we don't act now, there won't be anyone left to save. I hate thinking that James might be just right about us sitting on our asses!"

The room fell into silence once again, the gravity of the situation suffocating. Ozpin finally broke the quiet, his voice soft but resolute. "We need more information. And if that means taking risks to gather it, then so be it. But we cannot afford to act recklessly. Not now when Salem's making her moves."

"I agree, we cannot send our remaining Huntsmen to Menagerie right now without knowing the full extent of Salem's schemes," Leonardo said reluctantly, while Glynda remained silent, her arms crossed as she stared at the screen. Qrow, however, didn't look convinced. He grabbed his flask and muttered under his breath before turning away.

"Fine," Qrow said, his voice heavy with frustration. "But don't expect me to sit here and wait while everything burns. I'll help those kids, with or without your help."

As Qrow stormed out, Ozpin closed his eyes, the lines on his face deepening.