"There is something beyond the sum of your talents and ideas"

― Monty Oum

Leap back, slash, jab, block, leap back, parry, slash.

Jaune's mind was an overactive mess. The fight was a whirlwind of motion, demanding Jaune's complete focus. Every parry, every strike, required split-second decisions, leaving no room for distraction.

Metal screeched against metal as Percy's sword scraped across Jaune's shield and sent sparks flying through the air. Jaune dashed backwards, slowly circling the older man, who raised his sword defensively. The tense standoff consisted of long stretches of circling, punctuated by sudden, violent clashes of metal.

Don't think that you have to move first to be on the offensive, Percy's voice echoed through his mind.

Jaune noticed Percy coil before he lunged forward, and was able to parry the first blow with relative ease. He fell back behind the others, allowing his opponent to wear himself out, carefully studying the pattern of his attacks. Eventually, Jaune noticed Percy's movements beginning to turn sluggish. Before he could retreat to catch his breath Jaune acted, waiting until he was mid-swing and suddenly bringing his own sword down in a powerful overhead arc.

It landed solidly, damaging Percy's aura. Jaune pressed further, taking advantage of his exhaustion to levy a slew of attacks. The blonde was too slow, only managing to score one more solid hit before Percy was back to deflecting his every strike. But he didn't let up, leveraging his stamina and relative lack of exhaustion to level swing after swing after swing. He didn't even bother trying to get past his guard, instead attacking it Jaune could wait out an assault relatively efficiently using his shield, Percy didn't have the luxury — being forced to push back against every one of Jaune's swings by countering the force of each blow outright, backpedaling as Jaune pursued vigilantly.

Percy's guard sagged more with each strike until it finally broke, his sword giving way to Crocea Mors. Muscles burning, Jaune poured every last drop of energy into his blows until Percy resorted to grabbing the blade itself, sea-green aura crackling violently. Jaune didn't hesitate, swinging his shield around in an arc that ended at the demigod's arm, bashing into it and forcing the release of his blade. He kicked the older man solidly in the torso, following up with another flurry of heavy strikes.

BEEEEP!

Jaune reeled back, stopping his sword mid-swing as their scrolls vibrated loudly.

"Well done." his teacher smiled from the ground, the Arc family blade pressing into his collar bone.

Jaune stumbled, tossing Crocea Mors just far enough to miss his mentor and land on the grass with a solid thud before following suit and collapsing, panting rapidly while sweat poured off of him.

"You let me win," he accused breathlessly.

"No," Percy corrected, standing and brushing the grass off of his jeans, his breathing steady. "I gave you the opportunity to win. If I don't, there's not much of a point in fighting in the first place."

"Are you saying you've been giving me the 'opportunity' to win all this time?"

His teacher smiled knowingly, but didn't answer. Instead, he bent over and picked up Crocea Mors with one hand. Curiously, Jaune propped himself up on one elbow, breathing still labored.

"I'd had my suspicions before," the half-god began, inspecting the ornate steel sword, "but this time I'm sure — this blade should've broken."

"Huh?" Jaune murmured. "What do you mean?"

"Riptide," He answered, effortlessly twirling the shorter blade in his left hand, though his eyes never left Jaune's sword. "It's made of Celestial Bronze. Stronger than any mortal metal. Strong enough to cut through steel like butter. I try to be careful not to break your weapons while training, but yours definitely should have broken near the end when I was parrying your strikes. Where did you get this?"

"It's a family heirloom," he answered, somewhat proudly. "My dad, his dad, my entire family… they've always been heroes. When I left- when I went to Beacon, I took it."

Percy hummed, pulling the blade close to his eye and inspecting it. "Some dynasty of heroes, to get craftsmanship like this. I won't pretend to have the best eyes for this stuff, but I've forged a fair number of my own blades, and this is a good one. Does it have a name?"

"Crocea Mors."

At once Percy's face darkened. His eyes scanned the blade once more, flipping it and doing the same to the other side before shifting to hold the blade at arm's length.

Jaune suddenly felt nervous. Clearly he recognized the blade's name, and he didn't like it. But how? Jaune knew of it because he read about his family history, but he had no idea how well known it might be outside his village. The blade had been wielded by nothing more than well respected huntsmen for almost a hundred years, but did the gods know about it somehow? That was a prospect too dizzying to consider.

Percy crouched low and placed it beside Jaune gently — almost reverently, as if dealing with some strange mix between a newborn baby and a live bomb. Jaune watched it nervously. Was his sword really that big of a deal, to have someone like Percy handling it so carefully?

"Do you know this blade's history?" the demigod asked.

Jaune nodded carefully. "It's the same as my family history, I grew up learning about it…"

"Does the name Julius Caesar ring a bell?"

Jaune wracked his brain for any recognition of the name, but came up empty. He shook his head.

Percy sighed, his shoulders slouching in what Jaune could only assume was relief.

"Then it may not be the blade I'm thinking of. But still… it would explain its durability…" he trailed off, clearly lost in thought.

Jaune hesitated. "...Is there something I should know?"

Percy snapped back to reality, but didn't immediately answer.

"You'll be fine using it," he eventually said. "You shouldn't have anything to worry about."

Jaune nodded, Percy's words not as reassuring as he might have hoped. Climbing to his feet, he cautiously grasped the hilt and carefully slid the blade into its sheath.

"You recognized it," Jaune stated the obvious.

Percy nodded, capping Riptide. Jaune's eyes tracked the sword as it morphed into a pen, and then disappeared into Percy's pocket. It was something he had seen a hundred times before, but now that he knew it really was a magical artifact and not some clever engineering, it was all the more surreal.

"It belonged to a conqueror from my world, thousands of years ago — or at least, a blade of the same name did."

"Julius Caesar," Jaune recalled.

"Yeah…" Percy paused for several seconds, and for a long moment Jaune thought that might be all he was going to say. "He's a… famous, infamous- legendary, really, figure where I come from. He ruled the most powerful nation ever seen before or since, and he — and his death — was responsible for its transformation from a republic to an empire. He founded the twelfth legion," he said, suddenly extending his arm.

Curiously, Jaune studied the tattoo on the inside of his forearm. He'd never paid much attention to it, but he could clearly see a three-pronged spear above the letters 'SPQR', and a single tally mark below that.

"The legion where I served," Percy continued. "Just… keep your sword close. It might be more important than you realize."

Jaune nodded firmly, grasping the sheath just that much tighter.

"You did well," Percy changed the subject, clapping Jaune on his arm, his armor clanking lightly. "You've got a long way to go, but you're learning quick. You'll be up to speed in no time. For now, rest. We'll train again tomorrow, same time."

Jaune nodded again, immediately realizing how heavy his muscles felt. With a silent goodbye, he jogged out of Percy's villa and up a floor until he reached the capitol building. The guards paid him no mind, and soon he reached his room in the guest quarters where he took a cold shower and collapsed in bed, his eyes sliding shut.

He hadn't meant to let himself fall asleep, but when he opened his eyes golden evening light shined through his windows. He rolled over, yawning heavily and stretching.

Urgent knocking sounded from his door, and Jaune scrambled to his feet in moments. Jaune rushed to swing open the door, finding Pyrrha waiting for him in full combat gear.

She flushed red, rapidly averting her eyes. "You should get ready, we're supposed to meet Percy soon."

"Be right out, thanks Pyr!" Eyes wide, Jaune slammed the door and hurried to get dressed, throwing his armor back on as quickly as he could, unsure whether to be more embarrassed about opening the door nearly naked or for almost being late.

Forcing down his embarrassment, he threw on his shoes and grabbed Crocea Mors, pausing for only a moment to remember what he'd learned just a few hours ago before throwing open the door, rushing down the hall to find his friends all assembled and waiting for him. Pyrrha's face was still faintly red, and refused to meet his eyes. Yang winked at him, smiling widely, and Weiss was doing a very poor job of concealing a snicker.

"All ready, sleepy-head?" Ruby asked in-between fits of giggles.

Ignoring his burning face, Jaune rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, let's go."

"Either God's not here, or they approve of my actions"

- Unknown

Pyrrha led the way through the silent, cobbled streets of Mistral's upper floor, each mansion and villa they passed gleaming with polished marble and manicured hedges. Though the road was large enough to fit thousands of bustling pedestrians, the only sound was their own footsteps on the cobblestones. Periodically a servant or courier would pass by on their own errand, but the roads otherwise could have been taken for abandoned. Weiss and Pyrrha remained unimpressed, but the others craned their necks, taking in the magnificent surroundings.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Yang questioned, her voice a hushed whisper that disappeared into the stillness of the street. "Why would Percy want to meet us here?"

Pyrrha shrugged. "Not sure, but I know we're headed in the right direction."

When Ruby had heard their training would 'officially' begin tonight, she'd expected one of two things: either grueling day-in, day-out training in the middle of the woods, or a classroom education. She definitely preferred the grueling version, which luckily seemed more Percy's style anyway.

"Here we are," Pyrrha announced, stopping before a wrought iron gate. While not as gleaming as the gates they'd passed, it was still sturdy and well-maintained to Ruby's untrained eye. She peeked through, her eyes landing on the house beyond.

Compared to the pristine mansions they'd passed, the house seemed to hold itself with a quiet dignity. It was still relatively large, of course, but smaller than the others, and with a subtle air of humble elegance. The windows sparkled clean, but the brick was a shade duller, and the occasional weed poked through the smooth concrete walkway.

"Um... are you sure this is it?" Weiss asked, a hint of doubt in her voice. "It's... quiet. And the lawn is overgrown."

Ruby shared a look with Yang. The lawn looked fine to her?

"The gate's open," Yang pointed out, pushing the gate. It swung inward without resistance, letting out the slightest creak.

"Might as well knock," Ruby suggested.

The eight of them exchanged glances before stepping onto the path. As they approached the imposing front door, Ruby felt a flicker of anxiety. What if they had the wrong house? What if they were trespassing? What if Percy had wanted to meet them tomorrow night?

"Well?" Yang whispered, nudging Ruby with her elbow when they came to a stop on the porch. "Your bright idea."

Taking a deep breath, Ruby raised her hand and knocked. The sound echoed from inside the house, and for a moment there was only silence.

"The note," Blake pointed out, and sure enough a small note was taped to the front door.

Let yourself in.

Cautiously, Ruby tried the handle and pushed. The door swung open easily, and dust motes danced in the air, catching the light from the open doorway.

Ruby shared a look with Weiss.

Before she could gather the courage to enter, Blake's ears twitched.

"I hear voices," she announced, slipping past Ruby and disappearing into the hallway.

Yang was quick to follow, and soon they were all following Blake. The air was still and quiet, and the only sound Ruby could hear was the soft thuds of their footsteps on the wood floor.

They emerged into a combined lounge and dining room. Sunlight streamed through the windows, spilling nicely across the paintings which decorated the walls. Ruby, too, could now hear the murmur of voices. From a doorway near the other end of the room a warm light spilled.

Wordlessly, they moved toward the light, the voices growing louder. Ruby perked up when she recognized Percy's.

"—here if you have any more questions." The conversation became clearer as they rounded a corner.

"Oof—" Ruby bumped into Blake as she stopped suddenly. Curiously, Ruby peered around her teammate to see inside the room. Sure enough, Percy was sitting with a man dressed all in white who Ruby knew she'd seen before but couldn't quite put a name to. They both leaned forward intently, their faces illuminated by the warm glow of a fireplace.

"Come on in," Percy beckoned, waving them in with one hand. Slowly, the group shuffled in.

"I'll go," the man in white announced, pushing himself up from the sofa. He moved with a stiffness that suggested an old injury, and his eyes darted nervously around the room. "Thanks for letting me know. I... have some things to think about."

He turned to them, a faint, almost apologetic smile touching his lips. "Hello everyone. Pyrrha, it's been too long. Have you been well?"

Pyrrha returned a genuine smile. "Yes, Shiro, thank you for asking."

Shiro nodded mutely. "Good to hear, good to hear," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. He turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the silent house.

"Hello everyone," Percy greeted. "Please take a seat. First of all, this is where you'll be staying while I train you."

He gestured around the room, and the girls exchanged surprised glances. Ruby's eyes widened with excitement, while Blake's gaze swept over the room, taking in every detail, and Yang let out a low whistle.

"Second, the main reason I asked you all here tonight..." Percy paused, his lips pressed in a flat line.

Ruby swallowed thickly. Blake had warned them not to tell anyone where they were going tonight, so she had suspected there would be something more than training but what that was, she had no idea.

They all found seats one by one, the only noises the soft crackling of the dim fireplace and the occasional scuffle of clothing on leather. Ruby felt a nervous flutter in her stomach, a strange mix of excitement and dread. She exchanged a wide-eyed look with Yang to see if her sister had any idea what this was about, but the blonde merely shrugged, a faux smirk on her face. Blake's feline ears twitched, her amber eyes fixed intently on Percy. Weiss, despite her usual composure, seemed to hold her breath. Even Pyrrha didn't appear to know what this was about, biting her bottom lip and gripping her skirt tightly.

Percy leaned back in his chair, his gaze sweeping over them like a spotlight. "Ozpin," he finally said, his voice taking on a hard edge, "hasn't been entirely truthful with you."

"First thing's first," Percy took a deep breath. "There's two important parts of Ozpin and Salem's war that he left out. The maidens and the relics."

Resolving himself to the conversation ahead of him, Percy told them about the relics first. How there were four objects of immense power, each sealed in a vault in one of the great kingdoms. How the vaults were protected by maidens and impossible to open without them.

He went on to explain about the maidens—young women with unique powers that passed from one person to the next. How they were the sole key to unlocking the vaults and accessing the relics.

"And these maidens exist now?" Yang asked. "The relics I get, if they're locked away they'd be easy to keep secret. But there are four maidens out there right now with supernatural abilities. Surely someone would notice?"

Percy didn't answer right away, unsure how much to reveal. Not that he wanted to lie to them — telling them the truth was the entire point of this, after all — but he would be putting Raven in danger by revealing her identity. Similarly with Samara, revealing her maidenhood could get her killed if the information fell into the wrong hands.

Then there were the relics. He had told them that the relics existed, but not that he was in possession of two of them. It was perhaps his most closely guarded secret, and it would be foolish to reveal to anyone who didn't need to know. But if he didn't tell them… was he much better than Ozpin? Than the gods?

He could tell them, but if he did he needed to know they would always be on his side, no matter what, forever.

He began to meet each of their eyes one by one, and quickly realized that they would always be on his side.

Because he would be on theirs.

He wasn't doing this for power, or to defeat Salem, or even humanity as a whole. That had been his original motivation, sure, but he had a much more important reason now — the people in this room.

Meeting Pyrrha's eyes, he knew. Protecting these people had become his paramount goal, his highest priority. As long as that remained true, they could never truly be enemies.

Everyone else he cared about — faces flashed through his mind. Winter, Qrow, Shiro, Raven, Kali, Ghira, Taiyang — all cared about the people in this room as well. Even Shiro, who had a casual fondness for Pyrrha and nothing more, only actually cared about Percy and Qrow, who both cared deeply for the people in this room. It all came back to them.

In that moment, he understood why RWBY was so special, and his mind was made up.

"Percy?" Yang called, a tinge of concern coloring her voice.

"Right, sorry, what was your question?"

"The maidens," she repeated patiently. "If they're still around, where are they?"

"You've met two." he told her. "And I should be asking you that — you've seen them more recently than I have."

Yang's eyes widened. "Samara?"

"And Raven."

" You know my mom ?"
" You know Yang's mom ?"

"Yes," Percy confirmed, forging ahead. "but that's a story for another time. The important thing right now is that I've been working to gather the relics. That's the real reason behind all of this — the wars, my rise to power, everything that's happened in the last five years. It's been to acquire the relics, to keep them out of Ozma and Salem's hands. So far, I've secured two: knowledge and destruction."

"Who else knows about this?" Weiss asked, ever the pragmatist.

"Shiro, as of ten minutes ago," Percy replied curtly. "Before tonight, he had the opposite half of the picture—he knew everything about the relics and maidens but not about Salem or Ozpin's true nature. Nobody else outside of this room knows everything."

Blake, her voice laced with a hint of suspicion, asked, "Why reveal all of this to us ?"

Percy met her gaze directly. "Because I trust you," he said sincerely. "I'm putting a lot of faith in you, I know. You're not just tools or soldiers to me." He looked at each of them in turn, his gaze lingering on Blake for a moment and making sure she understood the weight of what he was saying. "I know I can trust you."

"I suppose that makes at least some sense for our team and Pyrrha," Weiss said, "but what about the rest of JNPR? You just met them."

Percy turned and beckoned Ren. Without hesitation, Ren stood. "I entered Percy's service several years ago," he explained, his voice steady, "after he eliminated the clan that had abducted me as a child. He asked me to accompany Pyrrha to Beacon."

From the looks — or rather, lack thereof — exchanged between the members of JNPR, it was clear they had known about this for some time. Team RWBY, however, was visibly shocked by the revelation.

"What about Jaune?" Ruby asked, her voice shaky.

Percy winked at the blonde. "He's the odd one out. I don't know him as well, but I've heard enough testimonials. I know I can trust him to care about his team as much as I do."

Jaune, who had been blushing under the attention, nodded firmly, a determined look in his eyes.

"Before we get too sidetracked," Percy redirected the conversation, "There's something else Ozpin lied about. When he — and Qrow — told you about Salem, he painted her as an insane, evil creature who wants to destroy humanity. She doesn't want to destroy humanity — she wants to destroy Ozpin. "

"Then why do the Grimm attack humans?" Ruby challenged.

"I don't know for sure," he admitted. "But I can assure you that Ozpin is lying."

"How?" Yang asked.

"Because I've met Salem," he revealed.

The crackling of the fire roared through the silence of the room.

"I've met my fair share of insane immortals, and she wasn't one."

"Okay, so he was wrong about her being insane—so what?" Ruby retorted, her voice rising. "She still creates the Grimm!"

"If she's not insane," Blake muttered cynically, "then why does she want to destroy humanity?"

Percy's eyes found Blake's, who looked away quickly.

"And if Ozpin's claim about her motivations are a lie, then we can't trust his claim that she wants to destroy humanity either." Weiss followed.

"What other explanation is there!?" Yang exclaimed, backing up her sister. "Grimm hunt humans every day—they tried to destroy Vale and Mantle just a few weeks ago!"

That stumped Blake and Weiss, who looked to Percy.

"Like I said, I don't know for certain," he said. "But there is another side to the story. One that you should hear with as much skepticism as Ozpin's version of events, if not more, but one you should hear nonetheless."

"Salem's," Weiss realized, her eyes widening. Percy nodded.

He recounted the series of events as Cinder had told them to him. How Ozpin and Salem were two powerful sorcerers that had a fight that resulted in the death of their children. How Salem, the victor, blamed Ozpin, who fled with the relics. How Salem created the Grimm to hunt him down, and how Ozpin, fearing an eternity of being hunted, spread his magic to the humans in every village he came across until it had been spread throughout Remnant. How he gave the largest fragments of his power to the maidens so that he could blend in among the mortals. How Salem, hellbent on revenge, continued her crusade to hunt him to the ends of Remnant.

"That can't be true." Ruby shook her head rapidly, wiping the corner of her eyes before tears could form. "Why would Ozpin do that? There's no way he'd hide behind humanity itself. That's… it's evil."

"Is it?" Weiss questioned softly. "If you were facing literal unending torment? If this was your last chance to do something about it before the choice was taken from you? Can you be sure you wouldn't do the same?"

"Still…" Pyrrha murmured. "It's dark."

"It makes sense," Blake spoke up. "A fight gets out of hand, kills Salem's kids. Obviously she wants revenge, so Ozpin flees. Salem won't let him go unpunished and comes up with a way to curse him despite his immortality. Threatened with being hunted until the end of time, Ozpin does the only thing he can."

"So does that make Ozpin evil and Salem the good guy?" Yang asked, lips pursed. She rested her hand on Ruby's, gripping it tight.

Percy leaned back, observing the conversation..

"No," Weiss shook her head. "They might have both acted rationally, Salem might be more justified in her actions than we thought, but it doesn't excuse the murder of untold millions of people over hundreds or thousands of years. And Ozpin is equally responsible, but it doesn't mean he's evil or wants to harm humanity. He just took the only escape he had. I don't think any of us can say for sure we'd make a different choice."

"What do we do then?" Jaune asked. "If they're both equally to blame, if neither of them are evil, who do we fight?"

"There's no point in fighting Ozpin now," Blake pointed out. "Salem's the one actually killing people, defeating Ozpin won't help anything."

"We can't just forget about him!" Ruby objected. "We can't just pretend he doesn't exist and what he did doesn't matter!"

"We're not going to forget about him," Weiss assured her. "But the point is that right now, fighting Ozpin won't help anyone. But if we can defeat Salem and the Grimm, we'll save countless lives."

"It's important to remember that we don't know any of this for sure," Percy reminded them, filling the silence that followed. "This is Salem's side of the story."

"She has less reason to lie," Blake argued. "She's not claiming the moral high ground like Ozpin is. If he told us the truth, we wouldn't trust him. Salem telling the truth only serves to discredit Ozpin, since we already see her as evil."

"Discrediting Ozpin is, in itself, motivation for Salem to lie." Weiss pointed out.

"Yes," Blake agreed grudgingly, "but that doesn't explain why Ozpin lied about Salem being completely insane and hellbent on destroying humanity as her only goal. Since we're sure about that," she glanced at Percy, who nodded. "I think it's safe to say we can't trust him regardless."

"So, we oppose Salem and cautiously work with Ozpin? Without letting him know what we know, of course," Weiss summarized.

Blake nodded. "Agreed."

Awkwardly, Yang raised a hand. "Um, don't we get a say?" she asked, gesturing to the other six occupants of the room.

Weiss flushed. "Of course! I mean… If you have anything to add, then…"

"I just don't get it," Ruby huffed. "Why would uncle Qrow and dad work with Ozpin if he's such a bad guy?"

"They probably don't know," Percy answered. "In fact, I'm nearly certain that Qrow, at least, does not. Your dad might suspect something, but I can't be sure. Either way, neither of them — your father especially — wanted you guys involved in this."

"Uncle Qrow did say that he didn't want us getting caught up in this…" Yang mumbled. "What do ya think, sis? I don't really know what our alternatives are."

Ruby clenched her fist, balling up her cloak. "If… if Professor Ozpin didn't do anything wrong, we shouldn't punish him for it. If he did, and he's who caused the Grimm to attack humans, then we shouldn't just ignore him — we can't!"

"But we don't know," Weiss soothed. "We can't be sure either way. That's why we can still work with him, we should just be… careful. Try to find the truth."

"If we think he even might be the reason that Grimm attack humans, we should confront him!" Ruby argued. "We should make him tell us the truth!"

"He's an immortal with centuries of experience lying," Blake deadpanned. "If we confront him it'll only put him on guard and make sure we never find out anything useful. If we don't tip him off, we might be able to find out the truth."

"I think I'm starting to agree with them Rubes."

Ruby gaped at her sister, slouching a moment later. "It just doesn't feel right. Either way we're doing something wrong."

The room returned to a brief silence on the depressing note, nobody really knowing what to say next.

"What does team JNPR think?" Yang eventually asked, looking to the as-of-yet silent half of the room.

Percy looked over to team JNPR, finding them all looking to Jaune, who stared into the fire in thought.

The anticipatory silence lasted for a few short seconds.

"I agree with Weiss and Blake," he decided. "We have no reason to believe Ozpin is actively hurting people, but we have reason to distrust him. Assume he could turn on a dime, but focus on defeating Salem until then."

Percy pursed his lips, looking at Ruby sympathetically. She was the only undecided one, and it was now seven against one. But unity was critical, and even a single one of them not being aligned would cause issues.

"Okay," the younger team leader relinquished, her voice small. "If you all think that, then… I agree. But we have to tell uncle Qrow that he can't trust Ozpin."

"We can't do that, Ruby," Blake leaned over, placing her hand where Yang's cradled Ruby's. "We have to be careful. Anything that might tip Ozpin off…"

"If we think Ozpin is lying, then he's in danger!" Yang protested, once again agreeing with her sister. "He's family, we have to tell him!"

"He'll be fine," Percy interjected before the argument could spiral. "Your uncle has been working for Ozpin longer than you've been alive. Even if Ozpin were evil — which we have no reason to think either way — he wouldn't dispose of his most valuable agent, especially not when he's so weak. And that's assuming Qrow would believe you in the first place, which he wouldn't. If we gather more evidence, you can tell him. Until then, you have to know when to play close to the chest."

"So we just don't say anything?" Ruby asked. "We learn all this, learn Ozpin is lying, learn that- that you've done all this and we know where the maidens and the relics are and that Salem, the woman he's spent his whole life fighting against is not as insane as he thinks she is, and we just let him keep doing what he's been doing because it's convenient for us?" she rambled.

"Yes." Percy deadpanned. "That's the life you've been thrust into. When the price of honesty is Remnant, you don't have the luxury of telling the truth."

"Now," he changed the topic, pushing himself off the couch. "I'll go. Like I said, this house is now yours," he handed an envelope to Pyrrha, who was closest to him. "I'll take care of the bills, since I know Pyr or Weiss would just pay anyway, but you have no servants or caretakers, nobody else will be allowed access to the premises. Maintenance, upkeep, and taking care of yourselves is your own responsibility. Combat isn't the only thing I want to prepare you for, after all." he smirked mischievously.

"Feel free to discuss whatever you want after I leave, but only within the property and only out of range of any electronics." His eyes softened. "Don't feel like you're talking behind my back by talking it over when I'm not here. I want you to trust me, but that can't be forced. At the end of the day learn to trust each other first of all, and it'll take you far. Any questions for me before I go?"

Pyrrha stood, and calmly shoved him back down into his seat with a faux smile. Percy fell with a grunt. "Yes, actually. What's this about you coming from another world?"

Percy watched out of the corner of his eye as Blake elbowed her partner. Yang scratched her head, face bright red. Gaze briefly roaming, he found every pair of eyes in the room locked onto him. Weiss, Blake, Ruby, Jaune, even Ren and Nora were paying rapt attention.

He exaggerated an exasperated sigh, hiding a smile. He reached to check the time, before remembering that his scroll was back in his office.

He wasn't going to be getting any sleep tonight, was he?

"Where do I begin?"

"The goal isn't to live on forever; it's to make something that does."

- Monty Oum

"You disobeyed me."

Percy jolted, his hand freezing halfway to Riptide.

"Oum." Percy acknowledged, his hand relaxing. Leaning forward, he closed the terminal projecting from his coffee table. The room was briefly tossed into darkness, the faint glow of the rising sun barely illuminating the room before a dim lamp brought light flooding back with a click . The demigod was not in his most presentable state, sitting on his living room couch in a pair of sweatpants and no shirt.

Oum remained leaning against the far wall. "I gave you one rule and you broke it."

Percy frowned as indignation flared up within him. It wasn't the inferno of rage that had filled him when he made the decision, but it was enough to hold his ground. "I won't sit back and do nothing as they're lied to. I won't watch as they're manipulated and deceived."

Oum scowled, and Percy realized with a delayed shock that it was the first time he could recall Oum expressing anything resembling a negative emotion. The long shadows warbled and flickered around him for a few seconds before they calmed, Monty's expression visibly reverting to one of neutrality.

"I thought I would be more upset at you disrupting everything this whole time. Truthfully, I think it's what I've always wanted, but never had the means to achieve — my creations reacting and interacting with you, something out of my control, and taking on a life of their own. The lives, pasts, personalities, people that I've crafted making their own paths in the world."

Percy, ready for a confrontation, paused. His brows furrowed. "Does that mean… it's okay?"

Oum was silent for several seconds before answering with a noncommittal hum. "I've been enjoying watching things unfold. It's been annoying that you've been so much of an influence, but if it's the only way they can take on a life beyond the one I had planned for them and transcend me…"

Percy didn't interrupt the deity while he thought, his breath caught in his throat.

"Okay," he finally said. "I'll take my hands off the steering wheel."

Percy's experience dealing with gods was the only thing that kept him from near-collapsing in relief.

"However," Oum warned, "Don't think that this means you can sideline my creations."

"RWBY?" Percy guessed.

"Them," Oum confirmed, "but others as well. Everyone in this world is my creation, and nearly everyone you know are among my most favored. If you try to ignore them entirely, it won't end well. I want my creations to outgrow me, but I'd rather they grow according to my design than not grow at all."

Percy wasn't sure he entirely understood, but nodded carefully. He got the message. There weren't any hard rules to follow, but he couldn't leverage his power to lock everyone he cared about in a padded room while he went and killed Salem, either.

Oum's stance relaxed. "Good, that's good. I have one last thing for you."

Percy perked up curiously as Oum approached him, pulling something from his pocket and offering it to Percy.

He did a double take, hand idly reaching for his collarbone to confirm that yes, that was the necklace that had been around his neck a moment ago.

It was his camp necklace, and one of the only reminders he still had of his life on Earth. Four beads were strung along it, each representing a year of his life at Camp Half-Blood. A probatio tablet also hung from the leather cord, honoring his time at Camp Jupiter. He had strung two more charms along the cord since arriving in Remnant — one a craft Pyrrha had made in a metal-working class at Sanctum, and the other from Winter. The woman wasn't normally the type to give gifts, but had made an exception when Percy had used his influence to let her join the military, gifting him her graduation pin.

He cautiously took the necklace from Oum, studying it carefully. It didn't look any different.

"I do not intend to intervene in Remnant ever again," Oum announced. "As such, there's nothing preventing the gods of light and dark from returning and doing as they wish. Since you're the only one outside of my influence who cares for Remnant and its inhabitants, I'm granting you a way to defeat them if and only if they return."

Percy let it hang cautiously from two fingers. "How does it work?"

"Hold the necklace and invoke my full name — which only you know — and it will eject everything not of this universe." He explained simply. "As you know, neither of them originate in this universe. It will expel them."

Percy paled. " I'm not of this universe."

"Correct."

"Why can't you just expel them? " he asked.

"They're too…" he paused to think of the correct word. "Complicated. They're beings beyond my understanding in many ways. They can change anything I define as them. I can't define what they are in any meaningful way, and so they will always be able to return in one way or another."

"Unless you expel anything that isn't your creation." Percy swallowed, the weight of the necklace in his hand heavier than he could ever remember it. "So it's for if I truly have no other choice, then."

Monty remained silent.

"What happens?" he asked. "When they're- when I am 'expelled'."

Monty shrugged. "No clue. You're rejected from my realm, after that is beyond my understanding. You'd be able to make a better guess than me. From what I can gather the gods of light and dark can leave and enter realms as they please, so this probably won't do much more than keep them from reaching this plane. As for what will happen to you, it's anyone's guess."

Percy swallowed again, his throat dry. "Could it… send me back? To my world?"

"It could."

He felt the air driven from his lungs, doubling over and clenching the necklace to his chest.

"Why-" he coughed, "why didn't you tell me this before?"

"Because it's just as likely, if not more so, to erase your existence — kill you without sending you to an afterlife. Or trap your spirit in some abyssal barrier between worlds, or spit you out in the nearest neighboring realm. Like I said, my power is absolute within this world but doesn't expand the tiniest bit past it. I have as little, or less, idea what's out there as you do."

Percy swallowed and gulped down several deep breaths, waiting for the world to slowly turn itself right-side-up.

He could go back. He could see his mom again — he could see Annabeth again. It was far from certain, but five minutes ago it had been impossible.

If he did it, he might see Annabeth again. He might get to go home. But he would definitely never see Pyrrha again. Never see Winter again.

He felt himself age years in seconds, his heart thundering in his chest.

"Thank you," he rasped.

It didn't take him long to outwardly recover, and soon he was standing.

"Is this it, then?" he asked, his breathing slowly returning to normal. "You said you're not intervening anymore, but will I see you again?"

"Probably not."

For what must have been the seventh time in two minutes, Percy swallowed around a dry throat. "I guess… goodbye, then. Thank you, Monty. For giving me a chance."

Oum shared one of his rare smiles, the rarity of which was something Percy had long ago decided to be the result of exhaustion rather than a standoffish nature.

"I sincerely wish you good luck, but I know you will succeed."

Percy perked up, equal parts confused and curious. "If this is something beyond even your control, how are you so certain?"

Monty's eyes gained a far-away look, but his smile remained. "The human spirit is indomitable. If you endeavor to achieve, it will happen given enough resolve. The effort you put forth to anything transcends yourself, for there is no futility even in death."

He disappeared a moment later, leaving no trace that Percy had ever been anything but alone.

Collapsing back onto the couch, Percy slowly strung the cord around his neck.

For a moment, it felt like carrying the weight of the sky all over again.

"I believe that the human spirit is indomitable. If you endeavor to achieve, it will happen given enough resolve. It may not be immediate, and often your greater dreams are something you will not achieve within your own lifetime. The effort you put forth to anything transcends yourself, for there is no futility even in death."
- Monty Oum

We're back to 2 updates a month now that I have a reserve, hopefully to stay that way.

Next Chapter March 1