Leonardo Lionheart paced the confines of his dimly lit office, the glow of the communication console casting faint shadows on his face. His hand hovered over the controls before he took a deep breath, steadying himself, and activated the private channel.

The screen flickered for a moment before stabilizing, revealing General James Ironwood seated at his desk in Atlas. The general's uniform was immaculate, his posture stiff, but the faint lines on his face and the beard he was letting grow betrayed the immense strain he was under.

"General Ironwood," Leonardo began, his voice measured, though tinged with hesitation. "I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time."

Ironwood gave a dry chuckle, a rare sound for the stoic man. "A bad time? Leonardo, at this point, I'm not sure if I've ever had a good time in recent memory."

The sarcasm wasn't lost on Leonardo, but he pressed on. "I just… wanted to check in. See how you're holding up."

Ironwood leaned back in his chair, his expression softening just slightly, though his exhaustion was clear. "If I told you I was doing fine, it'd be a lie. Atlas is flanked on all sides, Lionheart. Terrorist activity in Sanus, Anima, and Solitas is at an all-time high. Our personnel are spread thinner than ever. Even if I wanted to send a force to assist in Menagerie's crisis, I couldn't afford to. The Council, the SDC, Ozpin... Everyone is pulling me in different directions. It feels like I'm a dog on a leash, being yanked around with no end in sight."

Leonardo nodded sympathetically, though his mind worked furiously to navigate the conversation. "I understand how demanding your position must be, General. But surely—"

Ironwood cut him off, his voice sharp but not unkind. "When I say Atlas is stretched thin, I mean it literally. Every fleet we can spare has been diverted to hotspots. The rest are focused on defending the coasts of Solitas. The situation is dire, Leonardo."

The Mistral headmaster paused before venturing cautiously, "What about the Grimm migration? The reports I've seen… they're unprecedented."

Ironwood's gaze darkened. "That's putting it lightly. The Grimm pouring out of the Land of Darkness are relentless. They're migrating in numbers we've never seen before, all trying to cross Atlas to reach Menagerie. If Atlas weren't in their path, I doubt Menagerie's fighters would have lasted this long. But then again, Ozpin seems to be ignoring that fact."

Leonardo seized the opportunity. "And that's exactly why we need to solve the crisis in Menagerie, General. If we can stabilize the situation there, it could ease the pressure on Atlas."

Ironwood leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk as he clasped his hands together. His voice was measured but cold. "I understand that. Truly, I do. And I acknowledge that Ozpin is right in some way — resolving the conflict in Menagerie would alleviate much of this chaos. But understanding it doesn't mean I can act on it."

"Why not?" Leonardo pressed gently, trying to keep his tone neutral.

Ironwood's lips thinned. "Because committees, councils, and a mountain of bureaucratic processes stand in the way. Atlas is a military power, but even we are not free from politics. And the prevailing opinion in Atlas is that we prioritize defending our assets and our people. Many in Atlas see Menagerie as a burden we can't afford to carry."

Leonardo frowned. "Surely there's some way to convince them otherwise?"

Ironwood let out a bitter laugh. "Convince them of what? That we should risk our resources and manpower to save an island that has no formal alliance with us? That despises us? Tell me, Leonardo, how would you pitch that to a council filled with skeptics and profiteers more worried about Dust? You all seems to truly believe that I can like a Tyrant! To do what I please when it's far from the truth?"

The headmaster hesitated, his mind racing for an answer. "Perhaps… you could frame it as a necessary step to secure Atlas's borders. A preemptive move to stop the Grimm from growing stronger in Menagerie before they can turn their attention fully to Solitas."

Ironwood's expression softened slightly, though his tone remained firm. "A valid argument. One I've already made, by the way. But make no mistake, Atlas isn't sitting idle. We're defending and attacking simultaneously, Leonardo. Every day, we fight to protect our people and our assets. Every day, we hold the line against the Grimm. But we can't fight on every front."

Leonardo leaned closer to the screen, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "General, if we don't act soon, Menagerie will fall. And if it falls, the Grimm will only grow stronger. The chaos will spread. Surely, you see the long-term threat?"

Ironwood's gaze turned icy, though it wasn't directed at Leonardo. "I see it, Lionheart. Believe me, I do. But seeing the problem and having the means to solve it are two very different things. Atlas is doing everything it can to hold the line. We can't shoulder the burden of the entire world. Not at the moment"

The two men sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation pressing down on both of them. Finally, Leonardo spoke, his tone hesitant. "If I may, General… what would it take for Atlas to intervene in Menagerie?"

Ironwood's eyes narrowed, studying Leonardo carefully. "A miracle," he said bluntly. "The kind of miracle that convinces the Council, the SDC, and the public that it's worth the risk. And that kind of miracle doesn't come cheap, Lionheart. If you have a plan to pull one out of thin air, I'm all ears."

Leonardo sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I wish I did. But I'll keep working on it. There has to be a way to turn the tide."

Ironwood nodded, though his expression remained grim. "If you find one, let me know. Until then, I'll do what I can to keep Atlas secure. But don't expect a cavalry charge from us, Lionheart. Atlas can't afford it."

As the screen dimmed, and the connection ended, Leonardo leaned back in his chair. His office barely illuminated his desk as he leaned back, the weight of his conversation with General Ironwood still heavy on his shoulders. He exhaled deeply, rubbing his temples, trying to ease the storm of doubts swirling in his head. A soft chime interrupted his thoughts, and the door to his office creaked open. Standing in the doorway was a man who seemed to drag the shadows with him, his presence as unsettling as the faint clank of his robotic limbs.

The figure stepped into the room. With his disheveled gray hair framed a face marked with deep lines and an unsettling calmness. His left eye glowed red, an artificial replacement surrounded by scars. His right arm gleamed dully, its dark metal adorned with crimson circuits that pulsed faintly, giving it an almost lifelike aura.

"Ah, Headmaster Lionheart," the man said, his voice a mix of amusement and condescension. "How fortuitous that I find you alone."

Leonardo tensed, his fingers brushing against the edge of his desk. "Dr. Merlot," he greeted warily, his voice low. "To what do I owe the… honor?"

Merlot stepped forward, his polished boots clicking softly against the floor. "Must we always meet with such suspicion, dear Leonardo? I came to commend you. You've done a splendid job keeping them out of Menagerie."

"Have I?" Leonardo asked, his tone edged with skepticism. "Your presence here suggests otherwise."

Merlot's lips curled into a grin, sharp as a blade. "Ever the cautious one, aren't you? Fear not — I've taken every precaution to avoid detection by Ozpin's little spies. Even those magical birds of his!" He paused, his red eye scanning the room before landing back on Leonardo. "You've sown the seeds of doubt between Ironwood and Ozpin beautifully. They're bickering like schoolchildren, exactly as we need them to."

Leonardo's brow furrowed. "And are you pleased with the chaos you've caused? With the lives lost in Menagerie and the rest of Remnant?"

Merlot's grin widened. "Somewhat pleased. But let's not focus on trivialities like casualties. What matters is progress. My experiments have been… enlightening."

The headmaster felt a chill creep down his spine. "Experiments?"

"Oh, yes." Merlot's voice carried an unsettling pride. "The Hounds you've undoubtedly heard of. My beautiful creations. While others see them as grotesque or monstrous, I see perfection in their deformity. Nature's freaks, you might call them, but beneath the warped exteriors lies promise."

Leonardo clenched his fists under the desk. "Promise? You're creating nightmares."

Merlot chuckled, a sound devoid of warmth. "Nightmares? Perhaps. But nightmares with purpose. Imagine a world where humanity doesn't fear the Grimm but commands them. Where Salem's weapons are turned against her."

"That's impossible," Leonardo said sharply, his voice rising.

Merlot's expression darkened, the grin fading. "Impossible? Is it? My research has already borne fruit. Those Hounds… they are but the beginning. Controlled Grimm, obedient and lethal. And if the Queen of Grimm herself is indeed what I suspect — just another Grimm, albeit an immortal one, then she can be controlled as well. Once we harness her, this war is as good as won."

Leonardo's breath caught. "You're mad. That's a gamble, one that could doom us all."

Merlot leaned forward, his glowing eye brightening. "Perhaps. But every great breakthrough begins with risk. Think, Leonardo — if we control the Grimm, we control the battlefield. The balance of power shifts entirely in our favor. Ozpin, in his long years hijacking the bodies of innocents, has forgotten the price that must be paid for innovation!"

The Headmaster shook his head, his voice faltering. "You can't expect me to keep stalling Ironwood and Ozpin while you chase fantasies."

Merlot straightened, his grin returning. "Oh, but I do. And you will. After all, my experiments are already proving their worth. Or did you think my arrival here was mere coincidence? I walked through Menagerie unchallenged. My creations are the perfect vanguard. Soon, even Salem will learn that humanity is no longer her prey but her predator."

Leonardo felt the room closing in around him. His chest tightened as he met Merlot's gaze. "This isn't the solution. You'll unleash horrors beyond anything we can control."

"Control is a matter of perspective, Headmaster," Merlot said, turning to leave. "But I understand your reluctance. It's the burden of small minds to fear greatness. Do try to see the bigger picture, won't you?"

Leonardo looked up at him, weariness etched into his features. "What now, Merlot?"

The scientist chuckled softly, pacing the room with measured steps. "I was musing about your concerns. About Huntsmen and their so-called 'noble' purpose." He turned sharply, facing Leonardo with an almost theatrical flourish. "What purpose do they serve, truly? Swinging their illogical weapons and fighting an endless tide of Grimm. Inefficient. Predictable. Replaceable."

Leonardo frowned. "Huntsmen are vital to defending Remnant."

"Are they?" Merlot countered, his grin widening. "Or are they merely outdated idols? Corruptible symbols, clinging to the past. Atlas… now, there's a force to be reckoned with. A standing army, disciplined and armed with technology that far surpasses any Huntsman Academy's output."

The headmaster remained silent, watching Merlot pace like a caged predator.

Merlot's voice grew more impassioned, his red eye gleaming brighter. "Atlas is an army of soldiers with weapons capable of obliterating entire Grimm nests. Bombs, cannons, fleets of airships equipped to rain destruction on their enemies. Atlas embodies progress. Huntsmen are relics of a bygone era, wielding mechashift toys as though they're revolutionizing warfare."

"You speak as if Huntsmen have no value," Leonardo interjected cautiously. "They've protected us for generations."

"And where has that gotten us, hmm?" Merlot snapped, his grin fading into a sneer. "Remnant remains teetering on the brink of destruction, barely holding back the Grimm and settlements all over the Kingdoms remain one day away from being destroyed. And let's not forget their precious Academies—breeding grounds for arrogance and corruption. No, Headmaster. A unified military force has always been the future."

Leonardo sighed. "You're oversimplifying things. The Grimm are not a conventional enemy. They cannot be defeated by armies alone."

Merlot tilted his head, his expression condescending. "Ah, but that's where you're wrong. My research has already proven the potential of controlling Grimm. Why waste resources on unpredictable Huntsmen when we can create obedient creatures to do our bidding? Let them kill their own kind?"

Leonardo recoiled slightly. "You're playing with forces you barely understand."

Merlot leaned in, his voice dropping to a low whisper. "And yet, here I stand. The Hounds are proof that I understand the Grimm far better than anyone else. Imagine an army of them, guided by my hand. Salem herself would be rendered powerless."

Leonardo shook his head. "Even if you succeeded, what would you have? A world ruled by fear and manipulation? Is that your vision of victory?"

Merlot's grin returned, sharp and predatory. "Victory, dear Headmaster, is about survival. And survival requires sacrifice. Menagerie, for instance." He waved his hand dismissively. "A suitable testing ground for my creations. When Atlas finally intervenes, they'll sweep away the remnants of the White Fang and make this island a monument to their strength."

"And the lives lost in the process?" Leonardo asked, his voice strained.

"Collateral damage," Merlot replied coldly. "Necessary for progress. Besides, it's not as if the Faunus have done much to endear themselves to Atlas or anyone else. Ah, no offense, Headmaster."

Leonardo's stomach churned at the calm pragmatism in Merlot's voice. He couldn't ignore the truth in his words, Atlas's apathy toward Menagerie was no secret, but hearing it stated so bluntly made it feel all the more monstrous.

Merlot continued, his tone almost gleeful. "The best part, of course, is how easy it will be to blame the White Fang. When Argus falls, when Mantle and Atlas are attacked, Salem and her pawns will be none the wiser that it's only another plan from that Terrorist. They'll think the Bull Faunus fool orchestrated it all."

"And when the dust settles?" Leonardo asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Merlot's grin widened to an almost inhuman degree. "When the dust settles, Headmaster, and when we reach our goals, we will stand triumphant. The Grimm will be ours to command. Humanity will no longer cower in fear. And as for Salem…" He chuckled darkly. "Her time will come. She is but another Grimm to conquer."

Leonardo felt a chill run down his spine. "You truly believe you can control her?"

"Why not?" Merlot said with a shrug. "She may be powerful, but she is not infallible. The Lamp of Knowledge revealed much about her weaknesses. Her obsession with erasing Remnant is rooted in her own failures. She's not some omnipotent deity — she's a person turned Grimm, bound by instincts and flaws."

"And yet, you align yourself with her," Leonardo pointed out.

"For now," Merlot admitted. "But only because it serves my purpose. She has such a vast knowledge of Grimm, and yet failed to see them as nothing more than minions instead of potential. Once her usefulness is exhausted, I'll cut my ties. She'll never see it coming. But we will also not underestimate her. She is after all, a woman who had destroyed kingdoms and empires. To do so would be even more foolish."

Leonardo felt his resolve wavering. He hated Merlot's arrogance, his disregard for life, and his twisted ambition. But the man's confidence was infectious, his vision dangerously compelling. And with Remnant teetering on the edge of chaos, could he afford to stand against him?

Merlot stepped closer, his mechanical hand resting on Leonardo's desk. "You have a choice, Headmaster. Continue to serve as a pawn in Ozpin's futile game, or align yourself with true progress. Together, we can reshape Remnant into something… extraordinary. Without these immortals, flawed natures impeding the victory that we deserved."

Leonardo's breath hitched as he stared into the glowing red eye.