"We did not choose to be the guardians at the gate, but there is no one else."

-Lyndon B. Johnson

"But it's putting us in danger!" Ruby protested, "We deserve to know what we're up against!"

Qrow shot a pleading look at Percy for the tenth time in thirty seconds, but found no support. Percy merely shrugged, a silent 'their turn' thrown back in Qrow's face.

"I have an idea!" Qrow straightened suddenly. "I'll call Glyn- er, Miss Goodwitch. We can ask her if she's heard anything!"

Percy rolled his eyes at the deflection, but couldn't hide a small smile. Maybe his old mentor had learned something from him, too.

Soon, a tiny hologram of the acting headmistress of Beacon floated just above Qrow's scroll.

The students watched impatiently as Qrow quickly explained the situation, all but pleading for the woman to rescue him.

After a brief hesitation, the tiny figure of Miss Goodwitch gave a small nod. "I suppose... it's time," she conceded. "If they've learned this much, it's better they hear it from us than concoct their own theories. It's unfortunate that Ozpin is not here, but we will have to act on our own for now."

"What!?" Qrow demanded, stunned.

"They haven't even graduated!" Qrow regained his bearing, his voice rising to fill the room. "They're just kids! Oz said… I was told they wouldn't be dragged into this."

Goodwitch seemed to share an empathetic look with Qrow. "I'm sorry, I truly am. But at this point, ignorance of the threat is the greater risk."

Ruby nodded sagely, and Weiss harrumphed, her expression screaming 'See?'. The others had varied reactions, but all of them shared the same piqued interest. What were they hiding? What was the threat?

Percy's smile dimmed. Despite his good mood, they — Ruby, Weiss, and all the rest — really didn't know what they were asking for. Still, it was better they knew. Percy had been on the other side of big secrets too many times to truly believe that ignorance was bliss.

He wished they could just… not be involved. He really did. But he knew that wasn't a possibility.

Qrow slumped on Percy's desk, resignation etched on his face. When he looked up, Percy met his eyes, and the two shared a silent conversation. Percy couldn't tell them anything — that would have to be Qrow's job.

"Fine, Glynda. If you want to tell them, then you explain it." Qrow ran a hand down his face.

Percy cleared his throat. "Actually, we really shouldn't have any devices in the room while we talk about this, much less an active call."

Qrow grunted, but nodded grudgingly. "I'll call you back when we're done then, Glynda."
Accepting Qrow's offered scroll, Percy went around collecting one from everyone in the room. Adding his own to the pile, he handed them to Penny. "Alright, you two," he glanced at the farm boy to make sure he knew he was included. "This is where you leave."

"But-" Ruby began to speak up in their defense.

"Nope," Percy cut her off. "No chance. Out."

The boy hesitated, but followed Penny out without complaint.

Weiss shot him a strange look. "Is this really necessary? Do you truly believe someone might be listening in on our scrolls?"

"I know they are," he countered wryly.

Weiss' jaw clicked shut as Percy circled behind his desk and collapsed into his seat, the chair rolling a foot before bumping unceremoniously against the back wall. Reaching up, he yanked the fancy blinds closed.

Qrow cleared his throat awkwardly once Percy had settled, drawing the students' attention. "Alright, here's the thing..." he began without preamble, launching into a carefully worded explanation. He spoke of Salem, the immortal woman who commanded the Grimm, of an age-old vendetta against humanity. He painted an optimistic but still grim picture of a never-ending war with evil. He kept it vague, omitting any mention of the Maidens, Relics, or Ozpin.

Percy thought it was probably a more heavily edited version of the truth than Cinder had told him when she had 'revealed' the existence of the supernatural to him. She, at least, had told him about relics and maidens. He hid a wince. He knew Qrow loved his nieces, so it could only have been with the best intentions, but keeping secrets from allies was high on Percy's list of dislikes.

Pausing for a moment of realization, he muffled a snort. That was rich of him — he concealed information from allies all the time and had no problem doing it. No, he just had an easier time imagining himself in team RWBY or JNPRs shoes — young, thrust into the middle of a mess far bigger than himself, and being lied to.

Percy gnawed at his cheek. Still, he had seen this before and he knew playing secrets couldn't end well. Not when they would need to know the truth eventually. But… he couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't say a word.

Damn it, Oum.

He scowled at the floor as Qrow dodged obvious questions. He would talk to Oum the next time the man came around — whenever that might be. And he'd get some clarification on what the actual truth about Salem and Ozpin's conflict was, since the man had left it so ambiguous. He wanted to believe Salem was the bad guy and go stop the Grimm, he really did, but if he was wrong and handed the world to Ozpin by accident…

"You're not telling us everything," Blake accused bluntly, catching Percy's attention. He opened his mouth to confirm the accusation, but Qrow beat him to it.

"Nope."

Percy blinked at the side of the man's head.

"I'm not," the grizzly man agreed. "There's some stuff — some important stuff — you don't know. I wish I could tell you everything, but there's something that needs to happen before I can. Something I'm waiting for."

Percy leaned back, his eyes narrowed. So, he was waiting for Ozpin's permission to share more. To be honest, he was somewhat surprised Qrow and Goodwitch would share this much without Ozpin's blessing in the first place.

"So, what then?" Weiss huffed, crossing her arms. "We just sit around and wait to see if this Salem figure destroys humanity or whatever it is you're waiting for happens first?" He noticed most of the others seemed to visibly agree, and empathised with them.

Taking his cue, Percy spoke up for the first time. "Actually, that's where I think I can come in."

Everyone's eyes turned towards him, and Qrow shot him a look that he ignored. "You don't know everything, but you should be able to guess by now that the world is even more dangerous than you've been led to believe. If you want to survive, you'll have to be strong."

"But Salem is immortal," Pyrrha protested, the normally optimistic girl's shoulders sagging. "What can we do against that?"

"I'm mortal," Percy pointed out. "But I beat gods, titans, and giants."

"You're half god," Pyrrha countered. "We're not."

"Hold on," Weiss interjected dubiously. "Are we just moving past that? Are you actually claiming to be a god's avatar or something?"

Percy paused for a moment, taking a deep breath and allowing him to get his thoughts in order before nodding confidently. "In the spirit of putting all the cards on the table, yes. But I'm not a god's avatar, I'm half god. My father was a god, and my mother a mortal."

"Yeah right." Ruby rolled her eyes, interrupting an uncomfortable silence. "Nice try, but we can't be distracted that easily. We're gonna find out what you're not telling us, whether you like it or not!"

"He's being serious, Rubes," Yang said, her tone almost… resigned. "He told me after the battle of Mistral. I don't think I believed him at first either, but… I think I do now."

Weiss scoffed. "You can't seriously-"

"Why now?" Qrow interrupted suddenly, the man's deadpan tone cutting across the room. Percy turned to meet his friend's eyes with a resigned sluggishness. "I've known you for five years. If you're telling the truth, why would you hide your identity until now?"

"Before, I was trying to hide my identity to keep my strength a secret. I knew it would attract more attention than I wanted, and anyone who wanted to hurt me would underestimate me. Now… Well, I just created a new sea beneath Vale to kill a dragon. I think the cat's out of the bag."

"Sorry, you did what?" Yang asked, bewildered.

Qrow grunted and broke eye contact, but Percy could tell the conversation was far from over.

"We'll talk later," he promised his oldest friend before pivoting back to Pyrrha. "Anyway, demigod, god, mortal, immortal — all of it — doesn't matter. Or, well, it matters, but it's not everything. Once, a mortal I knew hit the lord of time in the eye with a comb." He stifled a snicker, but didn't bother to hide his fond smile as he remembered his feisty friend. He shook himself from the memory. "Point being, we have no idea what our destinies have in store — but we do know that it's our job to try our hardest. If we don't, not even fate can force us to succeed."

"If you're half god," Blake began cautiously, "Then why haven't you just destroyed Salem yourself?"

Percy scratched his head. "Assuming I could in the first place, it's… well, it's complicated. Mostly for reasons I'm oathbound not to talk about," he deflected, making sure not to meet Qrow's gaze. He wasn't ready to reveal that he wasn't quite ready to fully commit to the war against Salem. Except, now that he knew what RWBY was, and now that they were getting involved in the war… Why not?

Because they don't know the full truth, part of him answered. Or at least, they hadn't heard both sides, and there was no chance of that happening with Qrow here.

But even if he wasn't, Percy wouldn't be able to say a word. Damn it…

Qrow grunted, jerking Percy back to reality. "That's a big assumption. You're strong, but magic dad or not Salem is no joke. Remember, she could control the Wyvern and she still has who knows how many Grimm that are just as strong. You killed one, but could you kill a dozen at the same time?"

Percy grunted. He knew he could, but not before they killed everyone around him. Unless he planned on diving into the Grimmlands with no backup, that wasn't acceptable.

Except, why couldn't he?

Several seconds passed in uncomfortable silence.

"So… what, then?" Jaune was the one to ask. "Obviously we want to stop her, but if she's so powerful how would we change anything?"

"You can help," Qrow answered before Percy could. "She has imperfect control over the Grimm; it's why she can't just destroy the kingdoms at will. She needs people to give in to negative emotions to truly attract enough Grimm to cause a problem. That's why she relies on agents — humans, who help her sow division in return for promises of power or wealth. Stopping them is what we can do."

"Why would anyone choose to help the Grimm?" Yang asked, bewildered. "What good are riches when the world is ashes?" There wasn't a head among the students that didn't nod in agreement with the sentiment.

Qrow shrugged. "I've never bothered asking for a reason. Insanity for some. Others greed, envy, or revenge. Obviously there's a limited pool of people who would agree to work with the Grimm, so she has a limited number of agents. That's why we can make a difference — taking one out of the fight could set her back for a generation."

Percy bit his tongue.

"Then what now?" Ruby asked. "What do we do next, just… go back to school and pretend like this never happened until we graduate?"

This time, Percy leaped in before Qrow could. "I'll train you."

Every pair of eyes in the room swivelled to him.

"If you want to help, you'll need to be stronger — not just at fighting Grimm, but people. That's where I come in."

"Hold on, Beacon already does that," Qrow rushed to object. "Beacon's classes have been developed over centuries of fighting the Grimm — and Salem — to give the best education possible, with specialized staff to teach subjects as in-depth. You can't replace that."

"I can give them specialized training," he countered. "They're way ahead of the curve — each of them needs to focus on different areas from each other, much less the dozen other students they're shoved into a class with. I have more resources here than they could get at Beacon, and experience is the best teacher, not sitting in a classroom."

"Um-"

"They'll get that experience when they're old enough to! Their teachers have the years of experience they need to get them there, do you?"

"Most of their teachers don't even know they're in a war. This is your first war. This is my third. I can teach them to do more than fight — I can teach them to end the fight."

"Guys-"

"You're lucky I didn't end the fight the first time I met you, punk. How many wars had you fought in then?"

"Enough to hold back and still almost flay your ass at seventeen."

"HEY!"

Both of their heads snapped to Yang, only for the blonde to look at her sister.

"Um, I just wanted to ask… don't we get a say in this?"

Percy broke off his staredown with Qrow, backing up a few steps and returning to leaning against his desk.

"Yes and no," Percy answered, before realizing how stupid an answer he'd just given and shaking his head clear. "Yes, you get to decide. If you all are settled on one, we're not going to force you to the other."

"And no?" Yang pressed.

"And no," he agreed. "This is hardly the first time I've disagreed with Ozpin and his ilk. Our disagreements tend to blur the line between personal disputes and diplomatic ones."

"Between Mistral and Vale?" Weiss paled.

Percy nodded. "Don't worry, we're not about to start a diplomatic incident over where you train. But if I extend my offer and ignore Qrow's objections, it'll sour things between me and Glynda, which might actually cause a diplomatic incident."

"So you thought that insulting each other and almost coming to blows was a preferable outcome to ignoring him?" Weiss asked, baffled.

"Yep." Percy popped the P. Grinning, he extended a fist towards Qrow.

Rolling his eyes, Qrow reluctantly returned the fist bump with the tiniest of smiles.

"Men," Blake explained, rolling her eyes. Weiss shared an exasperated look.

"Anyway," Percy cleared his throat. "I'm sure you've had a long day, and you all have a lot to think about, so we should probably call it here. If any questions come up, feel free to ask. I'll make sure your rooms are triple checked for bugs and kept secure, but make sure your scrolls and anything else electronic is well out of the room before talking about any of the more sensitive stuff you've learned today."

"Yeah, yeah," Qrow wearily waved them off. "Go take a load off. I need to call Glynda."

They slowly filtered out of the room, Qrow hugging Yang one more time and the two exchanging a few more words.

"Why did you lie?" Percy asked the moment the door clicked shut and the last of the students had left the room.

Qrow sagged in resignation. "Not my tale to tell."

"Waiting for Ozpin?" he guessed.

Qrow nodded drearily, unclasping his hip flask and upending it on muscle memory before remembering that it was empty and reupholstering it with a scowl.

Leaning back over his desk, Percy opened a drawer and brought out a bottle of aged Valean bourbon he'd asked for once he knew the old bird was on his way. He offered it to Qrow, who looked like he'd just been offered the moon.

He took the bottle with wide eyes. "How- how did you know I…"

"Thank Shiro for the recommendation." Percy smiled at the genuine excitement on the grizzled huntsman's face.

"Thank you," he rushed, unscrewing the cap. Percy reached back and brought out a couple glasses.

"Don't thank me yet," he warned as Qrow poured them a drink. "Wait until you're finished telling Goodwitch you let two of her teams move to Mistral, and then see how grateful you are." he smiled, clinking his glass with Qrow's and taking a sip.

Qrow took a full two seconds to register his words before he upended his glass and reached for the bottle soon after, sighing deeply in-between.

"Fuck."

"It is the curse of the great to have to walk over corpses."

-Heinrich Himmler

Winter watched as Mantle was rebuilt from the bridge of her personal airship, the echoes of heavy machinery and the dampened but frequent explosions of Mantle's old residential sectors being torn down and replaced with masses of steel girders and half-built assembly lines. The skeletons of assembly plants covered the city, the rubble of destroyed housing being swept away.

Though her face remained a blank mask, Winter felt a pang of sadness with each house she watched be torn down. Every building used to be someone's home — but no longer, Mantle's fall to the Grimm had seen to that.

So much death… So much of the city had been lost before her forces had arrived. So many people had been hunted and dragged from their homes by the creatures of darkness.

The conflict with the Faunus hadn't been without blood spilt, of course, but it was nothing in comparison to the Grimm siege. No, the main damage of the internal strife had been in distracting people from the Grimm, and causing enough anger to attract them.

It should never have happened.

But it had. And as the de-facto leader of Atlas and now Mantle — though she had yet to claim such a title publicly — the responsibility for moving forward was hers and hers alone.

Rising to such a station had truly opened her eyes. She saw now how much rot, corruption, waste, laid at the top of Atlas — why things had been allowed to get this bad. Bad enough that most of their people would rather cut themselves off from Atlas and die to the Grimm than remain under their stewardship.

The old ways, the reliance on Mantle's labor and the whims of the council, would come to an end. They needed a new foundation, Atlas and Mantle both. Mantle required a foundation built on stability and safety, where their very way of life was not constantly in flux based on the political whims of the crooked, incompetent sycophants floating on an island above them lobbying for votes. Atlas, on the other hand, needed a foundation built not on the cheap labor and suffering of those beneath them, but of genuine productivity born from technology and capital.

Her gaze swept over the construction, vast swathes of machines and the occasional human among them, tirelessly working to build Mantle — no, to build Atlas' industry from the ground up.

And those machines would truly be at the heart of her foundation. For her country and economy both, most of the industry that was being built today were massive assemblies, ones which would output thousands of automatons each day. Some were funded by Atlas, some by Mistrali businesses — many by Percy himself, though she doubted he knew of it.

Mantle's working force had been drastically reduced. Its tolerance to toil day and night on the assembly line had been reduced even further. What Atlas needed instead was automation. Workers and armies alike formed from machines. Many had warned her not to put too much trust in them, but she knew that if they could be compromised and taken from her control, that they would have been during the battle of Mistral. If there was any time for Percy to pull that ace from up his sleeve, it would have been then. But he hadn't — and so Winter could know with absolute certainty that she could trust in the loyalty of her newest soldiers — a loyalty she desperately needed, not just from the automatons, but from all of Atlas.

This was the goal in mind she approached the specialist program with. As the headmaster and general shortly following a rapture which had nearly completely wiped out Atlas' specialist forces, she had a unique opportunity — to reshape the program to its very core, to secure Atlas' future.

The new specialist corps answered directly to her, and was her weapon against the competing influence of the corrupt politicians, greedy bankers, ambitious industries, dogmatic military, and morally bankrupt intelligence community. Only the candidates that demonstrated unwavering loyalty to her and to Atlas were allowed a place in the coveted ranks of the specialists. The rest were redirected, either to Mistral or Vacuo. It was harsh, students who had trained hard for four years and showed exceptional skill were denied their desired reward, but it was necessary. The specialists were the only ones who were resistant to the ace she had up her sleeve. Of everyone else, she could assure they remained loyal. Of specialists, she needed true loyalty, and so she could allow no mistakes.

Even now, she could hear the whispers of the council in the quiet halls of power. They had been cowed by such a show of force as Mantle's revolution was, but their type of person was never content playing second fiddle, and not to someone like her. Someone who did not play their games, did not put Atlas second for the sake of earning political favors. A military woman, who was not of their ilk. It helped that she was a Schnee, she was sure. One of the proud pillars of the old Atlas, she might as well have had royal blood. But privately, she knew they criticized her — questioned her methods, her vision for Atlas. Thought her an inexperienced child, and that she should simply do as everyone before her had, allowing the council to control Atlas while she focused on its defense.

As she looked over the rubble and wreckage of a once teeming city, her face hardened. She had seen how that had gone, where the council's stewardship had led them. She would not let Atlas return to those days, she would not be turned from her path.

She could see them, as they slowly clawed back power where they could. She would not allow them to take back control, but for now she had to bide her time. First, she had to set Atlas on the right path, to rebuild it — Mantle included — back not to its former glory but so much beyond it. But when the time came… when her people's lives began to return to a sense of normalcy, when Atlas' industries were stronger than ever before, when Atlas stood as a titan of industry, technology, and human ingenuity once more, when she had finally earned the trust and the adoration of the people of Atlas… then, and only then, would she claim the mantle of leadership that was rightfully hers, and crush the putrid, sniveling bureaucrats, politicians, and bankers underfoot.

Percy felt the rough, sun-baked stone of the balcony under his hands, feeling the fading sunlight wash over him as he leaned against the railing.

He took a deep breath of cool fresh air, a refreshing breeze rolling over the mountain peak. He'd been in Remnant for years now, but it almost felt like he'd been here his entire life. The world he'd come from, filled with monsters, prophecies, and gods, felt more and more like a distant dream. Here, in a world of Grimm, huntsmen, and strangely advanced technology, he'd made a life for himself. He'd made friends, enemies — gods knew he'd made those — and allies. He… he'd carved out a life for himself here.

He had never truly had a goal in mind. First it was to survive, and then to make humanity as strong as possible to fend off their collapse to the Grimm, and then it was to become as strong as possible until he found out what RWBY was.

And then… he'd found them, and it hadn't changed much. He was more dealing with the fallout of things he'd done before than anything else, and it was only now that RWBY knew — at least partially — about Salem and the greater conflict happening on Remnant that made him reflect.

As Ruby had put it… what now?

He'd been striking a careful balance of neutrality between Salem and Ozpin before, not intervening on either of their behalf but instead defending humanity as a whole as he waited to find out what role RWBY would play in the conflict between the two immortals.

And yet now they were getting involved, and it wasn't necessarily in a way he would've liked. But he was helpless to do anything about it — he couldn't tell them anything more than Qrow chose to, and so his ability to keep them from falling into Ozpin's corner was… limited.

He clenched his jaw. What was the point? If he came this far just to watch things happen without a word or the ability to change it, why was he here?

He'd defied gods before — in fact, it was one of his main talents — and even though it seemed especially stupid to defy Oum, that had never stopped him. The risks were too great for the moment, but if his failure to act would put the people he cared about in danger…

God's order be damned, he'd rather be killed with a thought than sit back and watch as his loved ones were hurt.

And yet until that point... What? Try to fight the Grimm without fighting Salem, for the sake of neutrality? To try to be fair? Why? He gained nothing; his reluctance to make Salem an enemy had never been out of fear. He had no problem putting her down if he needed to.

Then there was the other wild card right in the middle with him. Cinder. The thought of the woman's name sent a surge of mixed feelings through him, a complicated mess of good and bad. She was like him in that she held no loyalty to Salem or Ozpin, and yet where he had defaulted to working with Ozpin, she had worked with — and for — Salem.

Despite that, she had hinted — outright proposed, really — at betraying Salem, at joining forces with him. Could he trust her? He snorted. No. He knew far better than to take the word of someone so self-interested and so adept at lying. But if he did openly march on Salem, he had to deal with her somehow — either by accepting her allegiance, or by killing her outright.

He had to admit that killing her was probably the best course of action all around, but it still left a bitter taste in his mouth. She was far from innocent, but to kill someone who not only wasn't trying to attack him but offered to help him? Sure, he suspected that she would pull something if he left her alone, but she hadn't actually done anything. He had done his fair share of killing, but he didn't kill people that weren't actively trying to kill him.

He grimaced, as the lifeless visage of IrvingMalachite flashed across his vision. That was… not his proudest moment, and a line he had crossed. But even then, he knew that he couldn't scorn the person in charge of such a powerful organization and leave them alive. They'd have been able to cause too much havoc.

But wasn't Cinder the same?

He let out a heavy sigh. It had felt like he'd had no choice with Malachite — but there was no point making excuses for his past self, and whether or not he would have made a different decision, he regretted it. He had a choice now.

But left to her own devices, Cinder was far too dangerous. Too crafty, too sly, and too powerful, with too many connections. If she struck at him, she'd do too much damage to bear before he could stop her. Was it worth the risk, to potentially jeopardize everything he'd built? Everything he'd fought for?

Too much of a risk to let her live, too cooperative to kill her in cold blood.

He broke from his thoughts when the door to his office opened behind him, glancing briefly to confirm it was Qrow joining him.

"How'd it go?" he asked.

The older man shrugged, walking out to the balcony and hopping up on a railing. "She's mad, she'll get over it. I won't." he shot Percy a glare. "If they do decide to take your offer.. If something happens to either of my nieces or their team while they're here, our friendship won't keep me from wringing your neck."

Percy nodded his understanding with the sincerity the topic deserved. "I understand. They'll be safe — miserable sometimes, maybe, but safe. Of that, you have my word."

Qrow nodded, satisfied, and dropped his glare. He briefly clapped Percy on the arm. "I won't be around to bail them out of trouble, so I'm counting on you to. But seriously, there's nobody I'd rather have looking over my kids, half 'god' or not. I know they'll be safer here than anywhere else, just don't let me down."

Percy opened his mouth to assure the man that Percy took their safety very seriously when the door clicked open again, and a third person entered.

Percy shot him an annoyed look, and Qrow shot Percy a raised eyebrow. "Who's the punk?"

"Can I help you, Oscar?" Percy asked, still unsure why Ruby had elected to adopt a farm boy.

"I trust you handled the delicate matter of educating young Miss Rose and the others with care?" he asked rhetorically, continuing his stride to join the two on the balcony without hesitation. He stood near the entrance to Percy's office, while Qrow and Percy sat and leaned on the railing respectively, facing the young boy.

Percy's eyes narrowed, and he slowly reached for his pocket. "What are you-"

"Oz?" Qrow interrupted, hesitantly.

The boy smiled mischievously, sinking into a low bow. "At your service."

Percy's hand stopped inching towards Riptide, but he remained far from relaxed. "How did you…" he struggled with the words for several moments, before shutting his mouth with a click. He shook his head. "Ruby really needs to be less trusting."

"It is fortunate she is not," the ancient wizard disagreed, straightening. The smile melted from his face. "Their little party saved me from a lifetime in Salem's dungeons. Hazel Rainart tracked me down — how, I do not yet know — and accosted the students to get to me."

"He what!?" Qrow spat, lunging forward and grabbing the boy-sized immortal by his collar. Percy couldn't convince himself to pull him away. "You let them fight Hazel for you?" he demanded. "He's way out of their league, they could have died! How didn't they?"

"They, quite impressively, fended him off successfully." his eyes, calm despite his feet dangling in mid-air, met Percy's. "I've spent enough time around my former pupils to know it was not Beacon's training which allowed them to excel so far beyond their peers. Ironwood's former pet project helped, certainly, but I nonetheless thank you for the aid you've provided my students."

"Then boy have I got news for you," Qrow grumbled, angrily releasing his boss, who landed deftly on the stone floor. "This isn't over," he warned.

The ancient boy nodded. "I understand. For what it is worth, it was never my intention to put them in danger — only to accept the opportunity that had presented itself. Now, what is this news I haven't heard? In fact, I believe I have quite a bit to catch up on."

"You could have given yourself up," Percy ignored the deflection.

"I could not have." he shook his head resoundingly. "While I am being temporarily allowed control of this body for this conversation, it is Oscar's — there is no way for me to take an action that he does not agree with, including offering his body up for a lifetime of torment. Now, what is this news?"

"I'm sure you tried real hard to convince him," Percy sniped, making a mental note to run every one of them through the ringer for failing to mention that they'd been confronted by who Percy could only assume was one of Salem's agents. And it's not like he could get mad at her about it — from the sounds of it, they'd foolishly decided to place themselves as meat shields between Salem's agent and Ozpin.

"The news," Qrow cleared his throat meaning fully. "As we were just discussing, Percy offered to train both teams here in Mistral."

Ozpin's eyes narrowed. "While I'm sure Heather would do an excellent-"

"Not Heather, me," he interrupted. "I'd be training them personally. If not face-to-face, I'd be directly creating their regimen."

"You do not have the resources to train that-"

"Try again," Percy cut him off, patience running thin. "I've got more resources on hand than Beacon has ever had. We've been over it, they're getting the choice."

"I have not 'been over it'," he said slowly, a hint of steel creeping into his voice.

"Well, you weren't here. Even if you think you have a good reason, good luck telling them you're choosing for them."

"Especially without revealing who you are," Qrow jumped in. "I told them about Salem, but not the maidens, not the relics, and not you. I thought it might be a little while before you were back and didn't want to raise any questions I didn't have an answer to. You should tell them who you are, and sooner rather than later."

Ozpin paused in his retort to Percy, stroking his chin and humming quietly. "You are correct. It is regrettable that deception regarding my identity has been necessary to this point. They should have the rest of the night to rest, but I'd like you to introduce me tomorrow morning. In fact, I think that may be a suitable solution to our conundrum. Perseus can train Oscar along with the rest of them."

Qrow recoiled, and Percy scowled. "And tell them what, that the immortal wizard who's been around for millennia wants to follow them specifically around rather than running the school he used to be in charge of? Why do you want to be so close to them, for that matter?"

"I could ask you the same," Ozpin snarked, not quite having the same bite in the voice of a fourteen year-old as it did from the headmaster. "Why are you so interested in them? Why are you so opposed to me knowing what your training consists of?"

Qrow's head whipped back and forth, his teeth grinding together.

"Because I care about them!" Percy snapped. "I want them to be strong, and I want them to be safe! I want to train them to defend themselves, and I don't want you putting Remnant's largest target on their back while I'm doing it!"

"They would be safer with me there-"

"That's a damn lie and you know it," Qrow deadpanned, crossing his arms. "I wasn't happy about it either, but Percy is right — you'll just put them in danger."

"They need to learn on their own," Percy said, his voice softer. "I'm going to break them down until they can't take any more and build them back again. As teams, they'll learn to rely on each other. With you there, they'll only learn to rely on you."

Ozpin took a deep breath and closed his eyes, a deep sigh following soon after. "So you are both agreed, then, Qrow?"

"Yes. I didn't like it at first, but there's not anyone else who can keep them as safe or train them as well."

"It seems I have been frustrated, then." his eyes snapped open, meeting Percy's own. "I have been around for many lifetimes before you, and I will be around for many lifetimes after you. I know how to bide my time, but make no mistake; it only takes one lifetime for humanity to falter and fall. I will not allow this to happen. I have been convinced that you ultimately wish for humanity's success, so until I have a reason to doubt that, you may consider me an ally. If you should seek to use the human race for your own short-sighted ends, however, then know that a millennia has allowed me to prepare for just such a situation."

His piece said, Ozpin turned on his heel and strode out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

Percy and Qrow remained in silence for several seconds.

"Any idea what any of that meant?" Qrow asked.

"I think he was threatening me," Percy quipped dryly.

Qrow rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, I got that part, but didn't he say to consider him an ally just before that part? Who threatens someone while proposing an alliance?"

Percy shrugged, and stifled a yawn. "Immortals, man. Immortals. I stopped trying to figure them out years ago."

Qrow snorted, and unclasped his flask. "I'll drink to that."

He rolled his eyes, and accepted the flask when it was offered, tilting the container back and feeling the smooth liquid rolling down his throat.

Though Ozpin had no way of knowing it, Percy would accept his alliance. If there was one thing he had decided tonight, it was that he was done toeing the line between him and Salem. Regardless of if Ozpin was the one who'd made the Grimm target humans in the first place, the reality was that Grimm and humans couldn't coexist. Even if it meant potentially playing into Ozpin's hands, the Grimm had to go.

Handing the flask back, Percy wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. If Salem refused to stop using Grimm, she would have to go too.

His mind made up, now all he had to do was figure out how RWBY fit into all of this.

Happy new year! I hope you were all able to enjoy some time off with family. Here's a late Christmas gift.

Thanks as always to my supporters on and those who reviewed. I appreciate the feedback :) Also rare shoutout to the discord - The link's on my profile, come chat. I'll be in my channel.

Next chapter January 15 (For real this time)