Leonardo Lionheart wasn't a fool.
Coward? Yes. Traitor? That, too. But a fool? No.
That was why, as he stepped into the meeting room and the doors clicked shut behind him, he knew something was wrong.
The invitation had been vague — an urgent matter requiring his expertise. Given his standing as the Headmaster of Haven Academy, he had little choice but to attend. But now, as his eyes adjusted to the light and he saw who was waiting for him, the blood in his veins ran cold.
General James Ironwood stood at the far end of the long conference table, his uniform pressed to perfection, his military posture rigid as always. But it was not Ironwood's presence alone that made Leonardo freeze — it was the fact that Ironwood was here at all.
He hadn't expected the General.
"You're late, Leo," Ironwood said coolly.
Before Leonardo could open his mouth, before he could come up with some excuse or demand an explanation, Ironwood gestured to the chair at the head of the table. "Sit."
Leonardo turned, ready to leave. Ready to run. But the heavy thud of boots behind him told him that wasn't an option.
He swallowed hard.
A second later, a firm hand gripped his shoulder.
Leonardo flinched as Ironwood himself guided him forward with a steady but undeniable force. "I said, sit."
He had no choice.
With an almost unnatural ease, Ironwood pushed him down into the chair. Leonardo didn't resist—he didn't dare.
And then he saw them.
To his right, standing like sentinels, were Ironwood's elite Huntsmen – the Ace Operatives.
To his left, barely visible in the dust-powered light, stood Qrow Branwen, expression unreadable, red eyes sharp as a blade. Beside him, arms crossed, stood Raven Branwen.
Leonardo let out a nervous chuckle. "W-Well, this is quite the gathering, isn't it?"
No one laughed.
Then, at last, Ozpin moved.
He didn't speak.
He merely reached forward, pressing a single key on the console before him.
The table flickered to life, its screen displaying a list.
Names.
At first, Leonardo couldn't make sense of them. But then he saw the titles.
Vale/Mistral Huntsmen & Huntresses – Missing & Deceased
The air in the room shifted, turning thick, suffocating.
Leonardo's throat felt dry. He tried to meet Ozpin's gaze, but the man's expression was unreadable.
Cold.
Unfeeling.
Silent.
A bead of sweat rolled down the side of Leonardo's face. "O-Ozpin, I—"
The screen changed.
The first profile appeared — a Huntress from Vale. Deceased.
Leonardo swallowed. "Listen, I—"
Another profile. A Huntsman from Mistral. Deceased.
A second passed.
Then another.
Deceased.
Missing.
Presumed dead.
Slowly. Painfully.
One by one.
Only Leonardo's voice filled the silence.
"I didn't have a choice!" he blurted. His hands trembled against the table. "You don't understand, Ozpin! Salem is immortal—IMMORTAL! What could I do? What could ANY of us do?!"
Another name. Another picture.
Leonardo's voice cracked. "Please! I had to think about survival! I had to—"
More names. More faces.
Leonardo's breath came in rapid, shallow pants. "I—I tried! I tried to protect Haven! You think this was EASY for me?!"
No one spoke.
No one moved.
Even Ironwood remained still, prosthetic arms folded, jaw clenched.
The Ace Operatives didn't react.
Qrow stared, silent as death itself.
And Ozpin…
Ozpin simply sat there, operating the screen, showing face after face after face.
The weight of every lost soul pressed down on Leonardo's chest, heavier than any chain.
He shook his head, his panic turning into something desperate. "Y-You don't get it! She sees everything! She knows everything! What was I supposed to do?!"
Another picture.
Leonardo flinched. "I—"
Another name.
He gripped the table, his knuckles white.
Another face.
The room felt smaller.
Another dead Huntsman.
Leonardo's breath hitched. His vision blurred from the sweat dripping into his eyes.
Another Huntress.
His stomach churned.
Another.
His lips trembled.
Another.
His voice failed him.
He could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. His hands trembled violently, but he couldn't move. He couldn't run.
Not this time.
Ozpin continued.
No words. No condemnation.
Just silence.
And it was worse than any punishment Leonardo had ever imagined.
Leonardo's breath came in short, uneven gasps, his fingers gripping the table as if it was the only thing keeping him grounded. His eyes darted around the room, searching—begging—for some form of reprieve, but he found none.
No sympathy.
No understanding.
Just silence.
And the cold, unrelenting truth displayed on the screen before him.
One by one, the names kept coming. Faces of Huntsmen and Huntresses who had given their lives for a cause they hadn't even understood. Some of them were people he had known personally, colleagues he had laughed with, taught alongside, or shaken hands with at formal gatherings. Now they were nothing but names on a list.
And Ozpin…
Ozpin was still silent.
Leonardo's trembling fingers wiped the sweat from his brow. "I—I had no choice," he croaked, voice hoarse and desperate. "Do you understand, Ozpin? No choice. What was I supposed to do?!"
The screen flickered again.
Another profile.
Another life.
Another death.
Leonardo's breath hitched, his vision swimming. His body shook violently now, his excuses piling up in his head faster than his mouth could form the words.
"I was scared," he confessed, the words tumbling out now, tripping over themselves. "I—I didn't want to die. She—Salem—she knows things, Ozpin! Things we can't fight! You—YOU should know that better than anyone! YOU WERE HER HUSBAND!"
Still, no answer.
Ironwood's stare was like steel, unwavering and cold. Qrow's expression was unreadable, his usual drunken ease replaced by something much sharper. Raven, arms crossed, looked as though she was barely keeping herself from scoffing in disgust.
And the Ace Ops?
They were trained for war.
They had no patience for cowards.
Leonardo could feel the walls closing in, the weight of judgment pressing against his ribs like a vice. His fingers twitched against the tabletop. The thought of running flashed in his mind again, a primal instinct screaming at him to move.
But he couldn't.
Ironwood had made sure of that.
With a slow, deliberate movement, Ozpin reached forward and pressed a button. The profiles vanished, the screen going dark.
For a long moment, there was only silence.
Then, finally, Ozpin spoke.
"Cowardice," he said, voice smooth and emotionless, "is one thing, Leonardo."
Leonardo swallowed hard.
Ozpin's green eyes met his, piercing through him like a blade.
"Betrayal is another."
Leonardo flinched. "Ozpin, please—"
"Did you ever stop to consider," Ozpin continued, as if Leonardo hadn't spoken at all, "that by choosing to submit, by choosing to obey, you didn't save yourself?" He leaned forward slightly. "You merely prolonged the inevitable."
Leonardo's throat tightened.
"You think I don't understand what it means to fear her?" Ozpin's voice remained calm, but there was something sharp beneath it, something dangerous. "I have died to her hands more times than you could possibly comprehend."
Ironwood straightened slightly at that, but he remained silent.
Qrow exhaled, shifting his weight against the table. "You had a choice, Leo," he muttered, eyes dark with something bordering on pity. "You just took the easy way out."
Leonardo shook his head violently. "You don't understand!" His voice cracked. "She would've killed me! And all of you!"
"And she still will," Ozpin said simply. "Her goal is annihilation, Leonardo."
Leonardo's words died in his throat.
Ozpin leaned back, folding his hands together. "You did not escape death, Leonardo. You merely chose to delay it. At the cost of countless lives."
Leonardo clenched his jaw. "You—"
Ozpin cut him off. "If you had warned us… if you had come to me, to James, to Qrow, we could have prepared. We could have acted." His voice, though calm, carried an edge now. "Instead, you chose to kneel before the enemy. And in doing so, you delivered your own people to the slaughter."
Leonardo's breath was coming in quick, shallow bursts.
His hands trembled against the table.
Ozpin finally sighed. "You disappoint me, Leonardo."
The words struck deeper than Leonardo had expected.
And then, as if the room hadn't been suffocating enough, Ironwood stepped forward. His presence alone was imposing, but his next words chilled Leonardo to the bone.
"You understand," Ironwood said, his voice low and firm, "that treason against humanity is punishable by death."
Leonardo's mouth opened, but no sound came out.
"I should execute you right here," Ironwood continued, stepping around the table, his boots clicking against the polished floor, hands on Due Process. "You've proven yourself a liability. A danger to every single person under your command."
Leonardo pressed himself further into the chair.
Ironwood's expression didn't waver. "Give me one reason, one reason, why I shouldn't end this now."
Leonardo's breath came out in a choked sob. "I—"
And then Ozpin held up a hand.
Ironwood stopped and snorted.
The room stilled.
Leonardo barely had time to process before Ozpin spoke again.
"We will not execute you, Leonardo," Ozpin said, his voice eerily quiet.
Leonardo let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.
"But."
Leonardo froze.
Ozpin's eyes narrowed. "You will answer for what you've done."
Leonardo opened his mouth to protest, but Ozpin's gaze was unwavering. "You will return to Haven. You will do your job. You will take orders. You will obey."
Leonardo swallowed. "And… and if I don't?"
Ironwood's fingers twitched toward his weapon.
Ozpin merely smiled, but there was no warmth in it.
"Then we will consider Ironwood's original proposition."
The implication was clear.
Leonardo's face was drained of color.
"Do you understand?" Ozpin asked.
Leonardo's hands curled into fists. His entire body was trembling.
But in the end, he had no choice.
"…Yes."
Ozpin nodded, satisfied. He pressed a button, and the screen flickered off completely.
The meeting was over.
Ironwood stepped back, turning to his operatives. Qrow exhaled, muttering something under his breath before shaking his head. Raven said nothing at all, leaving only a bracer with tracker with instructions in front of him.
Leonardo, however, remained frozen in place.
Holding his head as if he was going mad.
The dim glow of the screens cast long shadows across the room, the holographic interface flickering with streams of data. The air was heavy with tension, the weight of unspoken decisions pressing against the walls like an invisible force.
James Ironwood stood rigid, his gloved hands clasped behind his back as he stared at the ever-scrolling reports. Despite the relative quiet, his mind was anything but still.
Ozpin, sitting across from him, reached for his mug, though the coffee inside had long since gone cold. He didn't drink, only letting his fingers rest against the ceramic as he watched Ironwood carefully.
"So," Ironwood began, his voice even but edged with steel. "What's next?"
Ozpin finally took a breath and leaned forward. "We cut through whatever Leonardo was doing. Take care of this mess first. We can't let children fight our wars, James."
Ironwood gave a small nod. "Of course."
"We'll start by hunting down all of Salem's known associates."
That earned a sharper nod from the general. "Agreed."
Ozpin sighed, rubbing his temple. "We need to avoid the future we saw."
Ironwood stiffened at that, his fingers twitching. "No argument there." He turned his gaze toward Ozpin, eyes narrowing slightly. "But I have to ask, Oz… why don't you try to oppose me?"
Ozpin raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate.
Ironwood frowned. "You know me. You know what might come. And yet, you don't dispose me. Why?"
The room fell silent, save for the soft hum of the machinery.
Ozpin leaned back in his chair. "Because Atlas falling now would be disastrous."
Ironwood's lips pressed into a thin line, but he said nothing.
"And," Ozpin continued, "because I still believe your heart is in the right place."
Ironwood scoffed. "But I'm 'misguided' according to what that young boy that becomes you, said."
Ozpin didn't answer immediately, but the lack of denial was enough.
Ironwood shook his head, sighing. "Regardless, I have no regrets about Menagerie."
Ozpin remained silent, watching him carefully.
"It lessened Grimm activity in the South," Ironwood continued. "That's a fact."
A heavy pause hung between them.
Still, Ironwood's expression remained unreadable as he moved on. "With Merlot and Taurus possibly alive, we need to secure Mistral, Solitas, and Menagerie."
Ozpin tilted his head slightly. "And Sienna Khan? Has she agreed to the deal?"
Ironwood exhaled sharply. "She was given no choice."
A flicker of something unreadable passed across Ozpin's face, but he didn't comment.
Ironwood continued, "The SDC also agreed. Naturally."
Ozpin's fingers tapped lightly against his mug. "Of course they would."
"The new Menagerie will still be run by Faunus as agreed," Ironwood clarified. "But the SDC will fund the rebuilding, and Atlas' engineers will coordinate with them."
Ozpin hummed thoughtfully. "So… we're turning Menagerie into a client kingdom."
Ironwood shrugged. "You know we can't afford to hold back right now." His gaze hardened. "If our enemy can't be killed and has an inexhaustible supply of Grimm, then the only solution is to ensure we have every resource possible to survive. We need every Dust we can get, Oz."
Ozpin sighed, but he didn't argue. Instead, he glanced toward one of the dimly lit monitors. "And what of the project to contain Salem?"
Ironwood straightened. "Doctor Polendina is working on the containment chamber as we speak."
Ozpin raised a brow.
"If it works," Ironwood explained, "it will put Salem into continuous stasis, absorbing the energy that makes her immortal… and converting it into a power supply."
A chilling silence followed.
Ironwood studied Ozpin carefully. "And you're comfortable with this?"
Ozpin didn't immediately respond. Ironwood continued.
"Considering what I've learned about your history with her…"
Ozpin exhaled quietly, looking down at his hands. When he spoke, his voice was calm. "That was a long time ago."
Ironwood waited.
"…Salem is far too gone," Ozpin finished.
Ironwood studied him for a long moment before nodding.
"I see." He paused, then, with a softer tone, said, "Then you're giving me your blessing."
Ozpin met his gaze. "Yes."
A slow nod. Then, after a pause, Ironwood said, "Thank you… for trusting me."
With that, he turned sharply on his heel and made his way toward the exit.
As the door slid shut behind him, the office fell into silence once more.
A moment later, another voice broke the quiet.
"That's really it, huh?"
Ozpin didn't turn, already knowing who it was.
Qrow leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, watching him carefully. "You're really trusting him with this?"
Ozpin took a slow sip of his now-cold coffee. "It's fine."
Qrow raised an eyebrow. "Is it?"
Ozpin set his mug down with a quiet clink.
"Then," Qrow murmured, voice low and unreadable, "if it isn't?"
Ozpin's expression didn't change.
"Then we'll do what we must."