Arthur Watts quoted: "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances, and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages."
"Spoken by the melancholy Jacques," said Archer. "One of William Shakespeare's plays. Act Two, Scene Seven, if I recall. You've actually read through all the writings I've pirated that quickly?"
Watts chuckled. "With how much time we've spent sitting and waiting, it is inevitable that I would indulge myself in a hobby. I should have one at some point, Archer. Otherwise, I'd lose my mind with the lack of stimulation. What better works if not the works of Earth?"
Archer laughed heartily. "Very good! Very good! An unhealthy mind lags and one's faculties will fail!"
"Still, I'll admit that there is indeed wisdom of life that one could find within their profession. I wonder when my realization will come."
"Do not rush such things, Master. They will come in time and only after much contemplation. We are not mere philosophers and though I will gladly engage in sophistries with you after the Grail War."
"That ending of ours is no longer guaranteed, Archer," Watts reminded. "You and I are intellectuals, and it is in our best interest to call each other out lest our hubris prove to be our downfall. Had our heads be as large as our intellect, the damage it could cause would be catastrophic."
"Then perhaps we should invest in some helmets, no?"
The two shared in a hearty-filled laughter between gentlemen of quality. Neo in the corner clearly didn't understand for she only shrugged. Their end of the bargain had yet to be fulfilled.
Watts took a look at the scrolls. He may have the means of tracking them without their knowing but that was only within the signal of the CCT. If things happened outside of the range, there was nothing that they could do about it.
"From the last location," Watts informed Neo. "It would seem that they are headed in our direction, as well."
Neo's smile returned there. Those desiring eyes could not lie even with her semblance of illusions.
"But it would not come earlier than the god of light," Watts added. "Camera feeds and the first signs of light's approach has already reached James' eyes and ears. Our dear doctor Jekyll is already on his way to meet with the god of light."
"Oh?" Archer looked surprised. "Perhaps you've missed your chance of warning a fellow intellectual, doctor Watts. Doctor Jekyll may be a good man, but it was in his hubris of separating the good and evil in man that birthed mister Hyde."
"No." Watts shook his head. "I did not. Raven has yet to appear and the feeds showcase Astolfo fast approaching. The details may be within the margin of error but stacked together and whatever plans we've woven will fall apart. They've also sent miss Polendina to Vale for the relief effort, denying us an additional Servant."
Archer nodded seriously. There was no humor nor any confidence in winning the Grail War with such odds stacked against them, not without risk. "I am truly sorry, my Master."
"Worry not," Watts said. "Chance is to be expected in Grail Wars, especially of this scale. One could not be expected to know everything at once without clairvoyance."
Watts approached Neo and pulled out a scroll, not his own but one that he had prepared for that possible confrontation. It was one that he had modified for one specific function.
"Should miss Polendina return," Watts said. "This will allow you access to her systems and force her under your control. Miss Fall is a Maiden on top of her being a Master. Berserker is a formidable foe that neither you nor miss Polendina could hope to overcome. Do not make any attempts of showboating nor of any slow deaths that could be prevented. Make it inevitable."
Neo nodded with an evil smile. She kept the scroll in her pocket, one where she could easily access to.
The alarms soon blared. Atlas was in a state of emergency. Calls for evacuation had been made. No one will know that the soldiers had already been prepped for this and had been waiting for it. All Atlas' people will know was that their military responded quickly that none will question why it responded so quickly.
Protesters' wishes were rejected as they had been forcibly put into the airships and moved down to Mantle. Riots would soon begin but general James Ironwood had his semblance active; he was willfully taking all the blame for this as Atlas' new mechanisms were being put into motion.
Civilian employees all rushed past Watts. Soldiers did what they could to evacuate the rest and none laid a finger on Watts. Neo had disguised them all as soldiers.
The towers alone were not enough. As the request of the general, both Watts and Archer could not allow civilian casualties from the Black Cannon. Thusly, they had also incorporated into their plans the means of moving Atlas. It was Archer that cheated the Relic of Creation, Ambrosius, with the schematics. The rule had been that any new creation would result in the last being destroyed; it wasn't their fault that the schematics of Atlas' mobile state included those old mechanisms to stay afloat. Ambrosius simply couldn't resist and he was none the wiser of their true intentions.
It would take hours for them to evacuate them all. Protests from all walks of life, especially the social elite who refused to walk the same ground as the filthy peasants, used whatever means and connections they could to remain on Atlas.
Watts overheard one of them, councilman Sleet. With Sleet was councilwoman Camilla. "What is this madness, James? Do you think you could control Atlas just because you have two seats in the council? Is this about that flying thing? It is ludicrous! Those things couldn't be—"
A sudden shot came and Sleet fell lifeless on the ground. Before Camilla could react, Watts had shot her too. Glass shattered, revealing themselves to Ironwood and the rest of the Ace Ops, barring Clover Ebi who was elsewhere.
"I would have taken their abuse, Watts." Ironwood's expression was stoic, stone-cold, with a hint of annoyance. "I had prepared our alibi."
"Time is of the essence, general." Watts blew out the smoke from his pistol. "Consider this me relieving you of some of the burdens on your conscience. They say you have no heart; but I say that you have a big one with how much that chest of yours bleeds." He pointed the pistol. "Unless, of course, you wish to prove it to them with a live demonstration?"
Ironwood appeared to be willing to test it right there. The Ace Ops have readied their weapons. Neo and Archer readied their own.
Watts shook his head. Soldiers. They were full of strange oaths and James might as well grow a beard. Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel, they're always seeking the bubble reputation, even if it meant burning by the dragon's fire.
Ironwood commanded his soldiers to dispose of the council members. They would be remembered as tragic heroes who fell valiantly protecting James Ironwood from his being removed from the council seat. Watts just needed to play his part.
All of them lowered their weapons. But Ironwood kept his stern look. Mettle's influence was apparent.
"Is everything in order, James?" Watts asked. He didn't once let go of his pistol.
"Everything is as you like it," Ironwood replied. He didn't understand why Watts and Archer smirked. "Follow me."
Ironwood led them to his office. There beneath the desk, there was secret button which James pressed. A circular shaped formed beneath the desk. It was a platform that led them downwards, just as Watts and Archer specified. Watts stopped Neo from joining them.
"I've sent you the information and the immediate tracking of her scrolls and different camera feeds," Archer said as he used his scroll. "It is time that we fulfill our end of the bargain. We wish you luck, miss Neopolitan. Farewell!"
Neo looked surprised but nodded. She checked her scroll and was satisfied. Her hands motioned in that sign language that Archer had taught her and she was gone from sight.
"That one is still a criminal, Watts," Ironwood said.
"And she's out to deal with another criminal," Watts defended. "Overall, that's less risk for the good guys; you don't have to throw your lives away for something this small."
"Only for them to be thrown away here." Ironwood's expression hardened. Watts didn't think Mettle could get stronger in influence. At least, Watts could maintain a conversation with Ironwood and that the general was still willing enough to listen to someone.
Everything about their new location was new. Hidden in some kind of cavern. The platform led them to one open pathway, reminiscent of the Vaults of the Relics. But this path was longer and led to a lonely chair with one large computer and one pillar that connected the ceilings to the chasms below them.
The large pillar had one gaping space in them; it was best fitted by Archer's weapon. This was to be the trigger of their bullet. The entire kingdom of Atlas was to be that one bullet. While the Grail's magical energy would have been ideal, having a large piece of landmass was going to do well enough. It was also helpful that said trigger led to the Relic of Creation.
"You've kept yourselves ahead so far," Ironwood said. "But once the god of light is dead, there is nothing that could protect you. Even this shell of yours was meant to defend yourselves."
"I am a Master, James," Watts said. "Though as a professional courtesy, master should belong to Archer. I could not hope to accomplish such a feat."
"You think too highly of me, Master. All things I accomplish could be done. I am no oracle but I see that ember inside of you will grow into a roaring flame. All you need is to nurture it. But know this: even I have made mistakes. Experience of practice is as good, if not better, teacher than the theory."
Watts cracked his fingers and loosened his stiff neck. There was an audible crack that he had been worried for a second. "That didn't sound good."
"I will leave you to your devices, Watts." Ironwood turned around and left. He didn't care about it in the slightest.
The humming of the platform faded away. The only light in this room came from the large computer screen. That had granted Watts complete visual control of every camera in Atlas and even Mantle. With his modifications, he could access any scroll he wished but he chose against it; he could already see the swift approach of Astolfo, avoiding balls of fire and keeping hold of Harpe tight.
Watts tutted at the sight of it. That should have been for Salem. His only hope that she, at least, saw it happen. Watts looked towards the other camera feeds of settlements further away; there was nothing. Vale was too far and Ironwood would not have allowed it.
Watts familiarized himself with the new computer. It may have been built to his specifications but it was still a good idea to memorize their individual placements; time spent looking down on his keyboard and then the screen is time not spent inputting his commands. Watts and Archer will need every second they could afford.
"Archer," Watts asked. "How many bullets do we have left?"
"Three," Archer answered. "After those, the next one will come for you."
He took a deep breath. He stood up and looked around. Within the pillar, there was a compartment. In that compartment was a specially made jetpack. Watts doesn't intend to make the bullet his tomb. But if there was no other choice, then he made his peace with it.
Archer placed a hand on Watts' shoulder. His eyes warm with no mischief nor scheme. It was the eyes of a man that grew fond of that which were in it, a necessity should they be forced into using that bullet. "It will hit, Master. I will shoot him down."
"You have already earned my respect, Archer." Watts returned with a smile of acceptance. "More than that, you have my admiration. I have been humbled by you, taught by you. And I could think of no greater honor than to see, up-close, the criminal triumph. When you return to that Throne of Heroes, I ask you that you look back to this one instance."
Archer's gentlemanly voice turned to a childish treble as he promised: "I will always recall, moment for moment, that this was the moment, the greatest moment of them all."
/-/
Qrow stayed out of the public eye and was in one of the out-of-the-way bars in Mantle. Even then, the commotion of people being brought down here could be heard and seen. Tensions between Atlas and Mantle was becoming apparent that it was a miracle that the Grimm aren't drawn here yet.
He wasn't alone. With him was Robyn Hill, also sharing a drink. She needed to be out of the public eye or else too many questions and demands would be made. Robyn may be capable enough as a politician during turmoil, but this was outside of her paygrade. Plus, she couldn't be seen entering or exiting a bar.
"So this is it." Robyn had been informed of the truth of the matter as well. "So how does this Grail thing even decide the Master?"
Qrow shrugged. "No one knows. Not even Oz nor Salem. They're just chosen. Call it what you want: fate, destiny…"
"Bullshit."
"Hey whoa, language. What would the people say when they'd hear their representative having a foul mouth? Think of the kids."
"We're in a bar, Qrow." Robyn turns grumpy when drunk. She could also handle her liquor quite well. "There aren't any kids in here."
"Those ones over there are too young and clearly used fake IDs. Some of us could look older than we actually are."
"Then, it's their problem if they hear from me. When that snake comes in, you can bet on a lot of swearing. As for the politics, just because Jacques didn't use any sort of foul language doesn't mean that he doesn't ever. If anything, I should have done that, I might have gotten more support."
Calls for the removal of James Ironwood was had. No one was believing that two council members had died protecting him; they all assumed that it was a ruse. Robyn didn't even bother to comment on it at all.
When their names and faces were revealed, Robyn made her comment known to Qrow: "good riddance."
"Last I checked," Qrow defended. "That Sleet guy actually cared about the people of Mantle."
"Lip service is what they do. If they really cared that much, they would have protested about my and James' efforts of turning Mantle into a glorified military base. Oh sure, the housing is great and all, but you and I both know just why those houses were being built."
Qrow put down his drink. There was still a little left but it was clear to him that he needed that for later.
"I was there, Qrow. James told them of the recent military operation and everything that was going in Vale. Every feed and every scroll was presented to them all as evidence. They cared about Atlas alright. They didn't want to get involved with Vale's affairs. They refused to send out any force that not even the assurance that it was only the Snow Queen and the machines that were sent out as a relief force."
Robyn slammed down her pint. She was feeling like a pirate right now with that rum of hers.
"They call themselves the justice. With round bellies and good capon lined, their eyes severe and beards of formal cuts, they have all sorts of wise saws and instances. But they sure as hell didn't play the part."
She shook her head. Qrow did not speak. He was a teacher once. He still is. Right now, it was one of those instances when he just needed to be an ear and a presence for a student whining about something. It just so happens that the whining school girl was an adult woman who technically holds influence over an entire kingdom.
Robyn downed more of the rum and demanded a refill. When that came, Qrow could see streams of it drip down from the corners of her lips. It eventually damped her clothing.
"After all that evidence," she continued. "All that Grimm, those tentacle things, those papers, those… toys? Who brings toys to a war anyway? It… it changes you. It does things to you."
"Been there."
"How long did it take?"
"Will let you know when I get there."
More complaints were had. Interviews of the disheartened and calls for Robyn to act were had no matter which channel they tuned into. Not everyone was a believer and not everyone was going to give them that benefit of trust either. The embargo hurt them still. Jacques Schnee made his displeasure known in that regard.
Then, Ironwood silenced them all when he played the feed. The different greetings and messages from that Golden Record wasn't cutting it for many of Atlas' people but the sight of a literal dragon of light certainly did. There was no denying that presence for some recognized those villages and settlements. Others recognized distant family members, friends, and acquaintances being burned down by that fire.
The feeds then led to one another settlement, one that they had been preparing for this confrontation. That doctor Jekyll looked quite majestic, Qrow would admit. The jacket took the place of a cape flowing in the wind. The dragon was still many miles away but it could be seen from the cameras near Jekyll. It was one of the media people that arrived at the scene.
As for the huntsmen and soldiers, they, all of them, had been prepped for this. Ironwood never told them the full extent of this Grail War. All that everyone needed to know was that they were facing an enemy that will be revealed in time. They were prepped to ready to have everything they ever knew of Remnant be turned upside down; that began with the Golden Record itself.
Then, there was a few clips and tales of those coming from Vale. The little bits that have been shared with them didn't spread fast enough before the arrival of the god of light. It was good since that gave them more time to prepare without dealing with the obvious panic.
What unsettled them all was the fact that no Grimm could be seen approaching. No Grimm, even from the far distances that their cameras and telescopes could reach, even dared to approach Atlas. Most stayed away with many even choosing to go further away. This Grail War had other machinations than mere Grimm.
Qrow had seen some of that feed. Disgusting sea creatures from the deepest depths made even the most mythical of Grimm into mere ordinary creatures. People were still panicking. Others have called it the end of the world or that the government had been hiding this all along. A breach in containment, they said.
He shook his head and took another swig. "I hate it when they're right."
How many lifetimes had Oz kept Salem a secret? How many generations had the idea of a Grimm monarch be nothing more than mere speculation or fancy of the imagination? Even Oz's conditions had been kept a secret.
"Could use your guidance right now, Oz," said Qrow. "Jimmy couldn't do this alone."
He was still waiting for Raven's portal to appear. As an added measure of protection, Qrow was always in the presence of either an Ace Op or one of the Happy Huntresses. Ironwood didn't trust Watts and Archer enough to leave him in their presence. Not even that mute midget could get to Qrow that easily.
It was a shame then that his current security guard was compromised. Robyn held out better than most people Qrow knew. But in the end, she too would give in and fell. She managed to finish her last pint before she blacked out. He finished he drink shortly after; that might as well be his signal that his time here was done.
Qrow put down the glass, carefully, and paid the bartender. He put Robyn over his shoulders. "Alright, this is not a good sight to see a council woman sleeping in their piss and drink." He took one whiff. He reeled back. "And they say I need to shower more."
Keeping Robyn's passed-out face hidden from the masses was an easy task. They were still far from the rest and Qrow could always portray themselves as two drunkards drinking away their worries at the end of the world. He surrounded himself with others drunks who couldn't notice, nor would they remember, that they are in the presence of a politician.
The manor had far too many people surrounding it that it would prove to be a task alone for Qrow to bring anyone along. He was a recognized face but someone might recognize Robyn's figure. Finding the means to sneak past them was going to be the difficult part.
He went the long way round and looked for any backdoors without anyone trying to trespass. Even then, Qrow prayed for forgiveness as he chucked Robyn past the walls, turned into a bird and flew to the other side then turned back to resume his carrying. No one saw him; it was fine. Robyn was fine too. A little dirtied and currently having her mouth filled with grass and dirt. No stones which meant that his luck wasn't that bad either.
Qrow sighed. That was going to be a sign for later inconvenience wasn't it? He'll chalk it up to karma when that happens. So long as it's him and not someone else, he'll take it.
Fiona Thyme had a disappointed look in her leader when Qrow brought Robyn to their base of operations. It was the fanciest place that they could have, courtesy of doctor Jekyll and under the name of mister Hyde.
"Now what are we supposed to do?" Fiona demanded as if Qrow had any answers. She had both fists on her hips as if expecting an answer. She even looked at him and said: "well?"
"You tell me," Qrow said. "I'm just a pitstop." He looked to Robyn. He added: "and the delivery boy."
Fiona wasn't strong enough to carry Robyn on her back, and Qrow was too tall that they couldn't each have an arm over their shoulders. Instead, Qrow carried Robyn's front while Fiona focused on her back. Alcoholic breath and drool went down Qrow's neck and shoulders while Robyn's arms dangled just above his stomach. Fiona did her hardest to lift Robyn's knees.
But then, Qrow heard a rumble. He heard a mewl coming from Robyn.
"Damn it," he said. "Damn semblance." He knew that it would come to bite him eventually.
Robyn puked in his arms. Fiona sighed relief at being the one to lift the legs.
"I could smell that from miles away." Of course, she did.
They made it to the base. It was much closer to a manor of sorts that allowed for formal gatherings. With the coming Grail War, it might as well be their base of operations. Ironwood already had his room set.
The manor was furnished relative to the rest of Mantle's architecture. It was fit enough that it could serve as a proper place for anything important on Mantle. But it couldn't compare even to the middling house in Atlas. Only its size made it compete with the average house. Still, it had a rustic feel to it that Qrow felt like he was going back home after a long hunt. With the coming winter season, it might as well be the case.
Robyn fell on the bed, still out of it. She had already begun to snore and there was neither the time nor the desire to remove those shoes. Robyn can clean up after herself for that one. As for Qrow, he needed a shower and a new set of clothes. None of the ones there were for men's sizes. Qrow would have to make do with whatever extras the Happy Huntresses were willing to provide. This was doctor Jekyll's manor; how come he didn't leave any extras?
Qrow put on his clothes and remained in the manor. He took a nap and whatever alcohol he had on him was gone. The same could not be said about Robyn; she looked like an absolute mess. His old one was being dried while he was at it.
"What happened?" she demanded. Her hair was a mess and her clothes still stank of alcohol. The bedsheets soon began to smell like rum as well.
"You lost." Qrow was already downing another drink, non-alcoholic this time. He needed to give his liver a rest. Water was a blessing in its own right. "Nothing much happened out there, as per usual."
"I'll get you next time." She forced herself up. She whined about the dirt on her bed. There was mud on her boots that now stained the bed. Not like that she would sleep on it; it wasn't her bed and it needed replacing anyway with that scent of rum still strong on it.
Robyn creeped her way out like a snail. She struggled to get her satchel and did not greet her fellow huntresses with a good morning face. The Happy Huntresses took over and put her back to bed, unwillingly from what Qrow could see of them. Robyn whined but none of the Happy Huntresses were having it right now. Mantle was becoming hectic and they needed to do something; a Robyn Hill with a hangover wasn't going to help.
Outside the manor, Qrow could see that the bubbling chaos that was soon coming. They were unsure of what to do and even the unity between Atlas' soldiers and Mantle's huntsmen were not doing it. It didn't help that there were huntsmen and soldiers who chose to side with the protesters. Qrow couldn't blame them nor could he find fault in their actions.
The Grail War was growing and fast approaching Atlas' borders. There was no denying that. He already saw the snippets of Vale's chaos. Mantle would go in that direction. He shook his head. Part of him wondered if that had been part of Watts' plan, securing himself further ahead of his fellow Masters.
Then, a message had arrived. One of the Happy Huntresses came rushing in. "Those Companions have arrived!"
That had been enough to sober up Robyn. She quickly dressed, uncaring that Qrow had been in that room, and dashed out. She even came back and dragged Qrow along.
As the two were rushing out to meet that Companion Servant, Qrow managed to figure out their identity even from a far distance. Astolfo was approaching in speeds faster than any airship and there was no mistaking that colorful blur as pink mixed with the browns of that Hippogriff of his.
Everyone had been forced back as Astolfo crashed landed on the ground, creating a crater three times their size.
Astolfo raised a finger, asking them to give him a minute. Hippogriff had vanished just before the crash landing and he fell kissing the ground. When he got back up, Astolfo had to spit out the rubble that filled his mouth like nuts does to a squirrel's.
He hopped and brought out Harpe. "One immortal killing weapon ready to go again!" Astolfo then noticed the massive floating landmass that is Atlas. "Whoa. That's big."
"Astute observation skills." Robyn was nursing her headache and her hangover. "Alright, where do we go next?"
One of the people approached; the little boy had that emblem of the League's. "There's a bullhead waiting for you, sir and madams."
"Sirs," Astolfo corrected. "I'm the second manliest manly man to ever walk the face of Remnant. And the most testosterone-filled male specimen in all of Atlas!" He blew the pink ponytail that dangled in front of him.
"Yes, sir." The child didn't seem bothered by it in the slightest.
The sight of the bullhead made Astolfo cringe. "Another flight? Already? Augh!" All he needed was a satchel and a morning face. It didn't help that their destination was Atlas Academy, a school.
/-/
Jekyll's jacket fluttered in the cold breeze. He should be wearing more to combat the low temperatures. But his blood flow gave enough heat that the frost on his hands had begun to melt.
Every endeavor they have made ever is now coming to play, today. Further away, like a lonely pink dot in the skies, Astolfo's screams were becoming one with the League's schemes. He flew above them and the target was still ways behind him. But Jekyll was there to meet them.
He could not look down. He could not fall, not yet. This day or never, Jekyll will prove himself an equal to a god. The god of light stopped and looked down on Jekyll. His fingers on one hand traced the ring he had on the finger of his other. He sighed into the gloves, heating it like a furnace.
The god of light stood in front of him, shrinking down to a humanoid form but still easily towering over him. Even if Hyde were to run rampant and free, the god of light would still have to look down on him from that height.
But now wasn't the time to think of himself as an equal to the gods. As tonight neared, it was time for him to rob the heavens blind. Tonight, it was time for him to show the god that Satan himself while by his side. Jekyll popped the elixir opened and emptied it.
Now the die is cast, nothing left to do. Fate alone will prove their schemes true. This is the moment.
AN: I don't know if it is a pattern by now from my other fics, but if it does (or if you've seen me on Reddit which would make it a bit further back), I think you can guess my reasons for trying to get into Shakespeare as of this chapter. All I can say is that I cannot promise how soon that will be.
Also, I tried to make a reference to 6/7 of those acts from the monologue.