Since I forgot to put in this in the chapter (Season one theme song praise by sevendust)

Above Atlas – Aboard the Airship

The airship hummed as it soared over the gleaming city of Atlas, its insides illuminated in the gentle glow of control panels and overhead lights. Team RWBY, Team JNPR, Oscar, Qrow, and one lone man sat in tense silence, the weight of their arrest pressing down upon them.

Ruby, not being able to take the silence anymore, was the one who finally broke it. "Where do you guys think they're taking us?"

Qrow, arms crossed, let out a dry chuckle. "I'm putting my money on jail."

Jaune, sitting beside Pyrrha, frowned. "I still can't believe fishing pole guy took us down like we were nobody."

Pyrrha sighed, putting a hand over Jaune's. "The Ace-Ops would be top trained. I can see why Ironwood sent them after us."

A voice came from the other side of the cabin. "Hmm? You people had a run-in with the Ace-Ops?"

Everyone turned to the man—Forest, a Mantle activist, his casual demeanor incongruous with the situation. He grinned. "Ironwood must have a serious bone to pick with you."

Weiss rolled her eyes. "They're not that big of a deal."

Forest nearly choked. "Not that big of a deal!? The Ace-Ops are the elite-of-the-elite—Ironwood's personal attack dogs."

"Pfft." He waved a hand dismissively. "I wouldn't let myself get caught by them." He leaned back, grinning. "I'm here because I've been speaking out against Atlas' exploitation of Mantle, and General Ironwood is trying to silence me."

From the cockpit, the pilot's dry voice cut into the conversation. "You threw a brick at her ship."

Forest crossed his arms, looking not at all bothered. "Worth it if it gets people talking about our cause!" He grinned, then leaned forward on a nearly conspiratorial whisper. "Also, what do you guys think about a man named Jonathan Vázquez?"

The cabin air shifted. The pilot didn't respond. Neither did anyone else.

Weiss stiffened. Her fingers curled slightly against her lap, but she didn't alter her expression.

Yang, seated beside her, caught the tension immediately. She nudged Weiss with her elbow. "Hey. You good?"

Weiss exhaled slowly through her nose. "Yeah. I'm fine."

But Yang was doubtful. And judging from the way Weiss's hands tightened somewhat, so was Atlas – In the Airship

The airship rose through the clouds, finally breaking into the clear sky above Atlas. The city spread out below them, gleaming with pristine white spires and sparkling lights.

Ruby placed a hand on the window, her eyes wide in amazement. "Whoa… it's pretty up here!"

Jaune and Nora, intrigued by her enthusiasm, crawled over to take a look for themselves.

"Whoa," Jaune whispered. "I knew Atlas was high-tech, but not like this. This is something else."

Nora, on the other hand, was too occupied chewing on her bindings to say anything.

Weiss, who remained sitting, hardly gave the view a look. "Do not be deceived by that," she said, her voice chillier than the air outside.

Forest, seated close by, lifted an eyebrow. "Hm?"

Curious, he sat up and leaned forward to get a glimpse of the city. His eyebrows furrowed. "Wait a minute… this isn't the police station."

Qrow let out a slow breath, his expression somber as he looked out the window. "It's… Atlas Academy."

The ship touched down with a clang, the landing pad locking into place. There was a row of guards outside. The rear double doors hissed open, and the chilly sting of the Atlas air poured in.

Team RWBY, Team JNPR, Oscar, and Qrow were escorted out onto the platform, their footsteps echoing off the metal.

Ruby's gaze drifted upwards, taking in the enormous academy before them. Beside her, Weiss walked with stiff demeanor, her arms tightly crossed over her chest.

Ruby glanced at her, her brow furrowing. "You're a little upset. Is this related to that Vázquez guy?"

Weiss exhaled, her grip intensifying. "Yes. But I'll tell you more about him later—when we're not in Ironwood's presence."

Pyrrha, walking just behind them, sat up at the name. "I think I've heard of him before. It's been years, though—I've probably forgotten most of it."

Blake, silent until now, shot Weiss a questioning look but said nothing.

Before them, the main doors to the academy loomed, guarded by even more guards. Jaune let out a little sigh. "Well… I guess we're seeing the general. For better or worse."

With that, they proceeded forward into the unknown.
-

Atlas Academy – Elevator Ride

As the others strolled towards the academy, Forest lingered behind near the ramp of the airship, arms crossed as he watched them go. His eyes flicked between the guards and the academy looming in the distance. "Huh… guess I'm missing something here."

Meanwhile, in the academy, the elevator hummed quietly as it took Team RWBY, Team JNPR, Oscar, and Qrow upward. Their wrists were still tied, the bindings pulling against their wrists. To either side of them were guards, their expressions stoic.

Ren was the one who eventually broke the silence. "So… what do we do?"

Ruby's eyes were straight ahead, fixed on the elevator doors. "I don't know yet," she admitted. "But we have to be careful what we say."

One of the guards shifted, turning his head back over his shoulder to look at them.

Blake, her voice low, nodded a little in Ruby's direction. "We'll take our lead from you."

Ruby nodded a little, but her hand tightened slightly. The uncertainty in her eyes didn't waver.

A soft beep signaled the elevator's arrival. The doors slid open, revealing a sleek, well-lit hallway. The guards motioned for them to move, guiding them down a flight of stairs.

But just before they reached Ironwood's office, voices echoed from the other side of the door.

Clover's voice was firm, but there was a slight edge to it.

"I'm telling you, sir, it was him."

A pause. Then Ironwood's deep, authoritative voice was on.

"Jonathan Vázquez has been off the grid for years. Are you absolutely certain?"

Clover didn't hesitate. "Saw him with my own eyes. He took out my team like they were nothing." He paused, then went on somberly, "And he's not alone."

Pause. Then Ironwood's voice, lower now.

"Then we have a problem."

Weiss stiffened. The words had more effect on her than she expected.

Yang, standing nearb,y keeping her voice low. "Weiss—"

"I'll explain later," Weiss whispered quickly. "Not here."

The door in front of them clicked. The conversation inside ceased.

A guard stepped forward, pressing a panel. The doors slid open.

And just like that, it was time to face General hideout was a warehouse turned safe house. Nozomu team Sat while Jonathan prepared for his "visit" to the schnee Manor. The air was thick was thick with tension.

Jonathan stood by the window, fiddling with his gloves. His mind was elsewhere-on her

"I'm good amigos?" He asked, turning back to group
Rusty grinned as he and Wuhuaguo get ready For Their undercover op "Oh yeah, You're golden. Just don't get yourself killed or don't wet The old man. See you."

Jonathan shook his head. "This is personal."

Nozomu Sat with his crossed looking At Rusty "Also Rusty how does ironwood even trust the lie?"
Rusty laughed "Well he doesn't know yet"

On the other side of the room, Zhenzi leaned over a desk, paging through notes, tapping his pencil at a frenetic rate. His knee bounced out of control as he spoke to himself. His mind was racing—too fast, too much.

Xingren sat next to him, observing him intently. "Zhenzi."

No reaction.
Xingren reached out, putting a hand on Zhenzi's knee to stop the bouncing. "You're off your meds, aren't you?"

Zhenzi grimaced but did not raise his head. "I had to be. I have to think clearly—quickly. If something goes wrong, we have to have backup plans. More than one backup plan." His voice was knife-edged but not angry, just desperate.
Xingren did not let him go. "I know that. But you're pushing too hard. You need to take care of yourself, too."

Zhenzi snorted sharply through his nose, massaging his temples with the heels of his palms. "Alright. I'll take them after the mission. I promise."

Xingren still looked concerned but nodded.
From the side, Wuhuaguo caught a glimpse of Xingren, her fingers shaking by her side. She had been staring at him for a bit too long, her eyes lingering on his hands, the way he spoke, the way he cared.

She turned away quickly, trying to stifle the flutter in her chest.
Rusty clapped his hands. "Alright, heart-to-hearts aside—Jonathan, you have a mansion to break into."

Jonathan smirked, golden eyes glinting. " I know I'm getting myself into"Team RWBY, Team JNPR, Oscar, and Qrow stood in tense silence as General Ironwood continued, detailing the current state of Atlas and the growing threats beyond its borders. The room was heavy with expectation—until the door suddenly slammed open.

Rusty and Wuhuaguo entered, their demeanor casual despite the sharp military atmosphere. Their belts carried extra gear, their usual Atlas uniforms slightly modified.

Yang's eyes slitted as she leaned in a little closer to Ruby, whispering, "Who are these guys?"

Ruby glanced at Winter, who did not so much as twitch at their approach. Penny also sat up at the sight of them, as if she knew them. Ruby whispered back, "I don't know, but if Winter and Penny know them, they must be friends…?"

Ironwood stopped speaking in midsentence, his piercing eyes fixed on the arrivals. His voice was curt, authoritative. "Where the hell were the two of you? You have ten seconds to say."

Winter stepped in before either Rusty or Wuhuaguo could answer. "General," she said firmly, "they were just busy doing other things."

Ironwood stared at her for a long moment before curtly nodding. "Fine. But next time, I want a report before you disappear."

Rusty grinned but didn't push his luck. Wuhuaguo simply gave a polite nod.

Dismissed, Ironwood turned his attention back to the group. "Now, where were we?"

The meeting went on, but Ruby couldn't help a second look at the two strangers.

Something about them didn't quite match up.
Ironwood sighed, rolling his shoulders before continuing. "Now, anyway, back to where I was." His voice reverted to its commanding tone as he went on talking about Mantle's defenses and Salem's increasing threat.

Rusty and Wuhuaguo said nothing, taking up positions beside Winter. Team RWBY and the others listened, although Ruby could not get rid of the discomforting feeling about the two additions.

Schnee Manor – Jonathan's Infiltration

Jonathan adjusted his earpiece as Liulian's voice crackled in.

"So that's what you want to do first." Well, I suppose not. After all, you've got your hacks back."

Jonathan grinned, taking in the estate. No guards. No cameras. Weird. Either Jacques Schnee was getting sloppy, or he thought his name was enough to scare off intruders.

Jonathan arrived at the front gate and pulled out his scroll, his fingers gliding smoothly over the interface. The gate opened softly within seconds, clicking shut as he pushed it open and slipped inside, heading up the stairs to the large front doors.

Another quick hack killed the security system, and the doors opened.

Inside, the manor was as spotless and oppressive as he remembered. Freezing marble floors, spotless furniture—no sign of life except the swaying chandelier overhead.

And then, a voice pierced the quiet.

"Weiss, if that is you, you have some explaining to do."

Jonathan turned toward the grand staircase, where a younger boy sat on the steps. Whitley Schnee.

The boy's eyebrows furrowed when he was given a stern look. "You." His confusion was a knife. "How did you get in here?"

Jonathan smirked, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Well, it was easy. Couldn't sing more for myself, Whitley."

Whitley stiffened. "How do you know my name?"

Jonathan tilted his head. "Your sisters."

Whitley's face darkened. His fingers balled up into his sleeves. "You're Jonathan Vázquez, aren't you?"

Jonathan's smirk didn't waver. "So you do know me."

Whitley stood up straight to his full height. "Father spoke to me about you. Spoke to me never to mention your name."

Jonathan's golden eyes flashed. "Typical. Pretend the problem doesn't exist, and maybe it will just go away." He moved closer. "Tell me, did he ever go so far as to explain why?"

Whitley's jaw locked. "I don't need to know. I just know that you're trouble. If you're here to visit Weiss, she's not here. And even if she were, she wouldn't care to see you."

Jonathan's smile grew. "That so?" His voice was teasing, but under it was something—something bubbling. "Because last I heard, Weiss and I go way back."

Whitley snorted. "Obviously not far enough. If she had cared, she would have mentioned you."

That stung, but Jonathan refused to let her have her pleasure. He breathed out his nose, shook his head instead. "You don't know anything, do you?"

Whitley's fists clenched. "I know enough. You don't belong here. And if you had an ounce of sense, you'd get out before my father returns."

Jonathan's smirk reappeared, but with an added edge this time. "Oh, don't worry. I want to see him."

He turned, and he headed down the hall.

Whitley didn't follow him. He just stood there, watching, as Jonathan strode toward their father's office.

And for the first time in a long, long while, Whitley wasn't so sure his father had revealed everything to him.
Jonathan paused at the base of the staircase, glancing back at Whitley. The kid stood stiffly, fists clenched at his sides, trying his best to mask whatever was running through his head.

Jonathan smirked, but there was no humor in it this time. "I wonder when you'll learn the truth—who he really is and just how horrible of a person he can be."

Whitley's face registered little, but the slight wobble in his jaw gave him away. He said nothing.

Jonathan did not go on. He spun on his heel and moved down the corridor, abandoning Whitley frozen in place.

Schnee Manor – Jacques' Office

The instant Jonathan came in, the weight of the old memories attacked him in waves. The office had changed since he'd last been here—minor changes in the furnishings, new paintings on the walls—but the suffocating atmosphere of the man who was meant to be here didn't alter.

Jacques Schnee wasn't there, but that was fine.

Jonathan wasn't there to talk.

He pulled out a tiny spy camera from his pocket, twirling it around his fingers before pocketing it back onto the bookshelf, snugly hidden in the tasteful clutter. He then walked over to the giant desk, fingers flying across the computer's face.

In less than a second, he was inside.

Files opened one by one, with papers on the next election. Campaign strategies, blackmail material, financial reports—all the things Jacques Schnee was doing to become a winner.

Jonathan's golden eyes flickered as he absorbed the information.

"Let's see what you're really up to, old man."
Jonathan scrolled through the files, sifting through financial records and campaign memos. It was exactly what he expected—Jacques Schnee wasn't just playing politics. He was manipulating the system.

Then, he found it.

An audio file labeled "Campaign Strategy – Confidential."

His lips curled into a smirk. "Bingo."

He plugged in his earpiece and played the file.

Audio Log – Private Meeting

A barely audible click, and then there was silence before voices filled Jonathan's ears.

Jacques Schnee: "We have under two weeks before the election. I need to know where we stand."

One voice, in control and matter-of-fact—one of his campaign strategists, probably.

Advisor: "Robyn Hill is gaining traction, sir. Her campaign appeals to the lower class, and her push for Mantle's autonomy is resonating with the people. Our latest polling suggests a significant shift in her favor, particularly after her recent public appearance."

Jacques scoffed. "Meaning?"

The advisor hesitated. "If the election were held today… you'd lose."

A sharp silence followed. Jonathan could hear the tension in the room.

And then Jacques talked, his voice lower and more authoritative. "That is not an option. We have resources. We have leverage. We will find a way to make this happen. What are our fall-backs?"

The advisor coughed. "We've already launched smear campaigns against Hill, calling her reckless and inexperienced. The council is still divided, but if we can win over a few people, we could get an endorsement that can sway public opinion."

Jacques took a sharp breath. "Go bigger. She's got momentum. We need something larger."

There was a pause for a moment before the advisor went on, more carefully this time.

Advisor: "There is… an alternative. If you're willing to make a stronger investment."

Jonathan's eyes narrowed.

Jacques' tone grew colder. "Go on."

A chair creaked. The advisor hesitated, but went on. "A certain specialist has proposed something. If we fund his research, he guarantees the election will end in your favor—regardless of the actual vote."

Jonathan's fists clenched.

Falsifying the election.

Jacques had no immediate response, but when he did, it was without hesitation.

Jacques: "And do you trust this expert?"

Advisor: "His track record is. effective. He has the talent and the connections to deliver the results we need. But it's not going to come cheap."

Jacques laughed. "Money's not the issue. Results are."

The advisor shifted. "Then, if you are agreeable, we'll go ahead with the arrangement."

A pause, a beat.

Then, in decisiveness, Jacques spoke.

Jacques: "Do it."

Click. The file closed.

Schnee Manor – Jonathan's Response

Jonathan sat back in the chair, easing out a breath. His yellow eyes went shadowy as he processed what he had just learned.

"So you play like this, huh?" he growled to himself.

This was political maneuvering but not of any kind that this was. This was outright falsification. And Jacques was content to bribe whoever this "specialist" was in order to make this possible.

Jonathan was able to reproduce the file with ease, storing it safely away in his scroll. Evidence like this could take Jacques down—provided he played his cards well.

He pushed the drive and shut down the computer, catching one last glimpse of the office. The office was as tidy and sterile as ever.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he chuckled to himself.

"Guess I just found my ticket to wiping you out, Schnee."

Jonathan was almost out of the office making his getaway when the door creaked open. He turned hard, muscles coiled to react, but his guard faltered when he saw who was in the doorway.

Willow Schnee.

She blinked once, as if wondering if she was dreaming. Then, in a barely audible whisper, she said, "John?"

Jonathan exhaled slowly, standing upright. "Willow?" He looked her over. She seemed… worn. More than he remembered. The same confident posture, but the years—and Jacques—had clearly taken their toll.

Willow moved deeper into the room, regarding him with astonishment. "You're not here to scream at me, are you?"

He didn't have time to answer before she crossed the room in a few steps and embraced him.

Jonathan braced for a second before relaxing back. It had taken him years since he'd seen such niceness from someone from his past.

Willow released him, her hands on his arms light as air. "My, how much you've grown up since the last I saw you." She regarded him, attempting to find the boy she'd known. "But why are you here? It's not safe."

Jonathan exhaled, stepping back. "I could say the same about you." He rubbed the back of his neck before turning to her. "I'm here because of Jacques. He is rigging the election, and I just found proof of it."

Willow's expression turned serious. She shoved past him, her hand running along the edge of the desk before she stood leaning against the chair. "Of course he is," she muttered. "He's been stringing Atlas along around his little finger for years. Why stop now?"

Jonathan folded his arms. "I needed to get inside his system to see how far it goes. And now I've got him on tape committing fraud. This can ruin him."

Willow looked at him for a moment, then let out a dry laugh. "You were always a smart kid."

Jonathan grinned. "I try."

Willow's fingers drummed against the desk, as though balancing something. And then she exhaled. "If you're dead set on bringing him down, then you'll require more than a single recording."

She wandered to the bookshelf and placed her hand on the paneling. With a subtle snap, a hidden compartment swung open, and a secret console was exposed. Jonathan lifted an eyebrow as she entered a code.

A screen came to life, displaying a number of feeds from security cameras—some of the public spaces of the manor, but a few directly into Jacques' office.

Jonathan's eyes darted back and forth between them. "You have cameras in here?"

Willow's lips curled into a sarcastic smile. "My husband has always been paranoid. He spies on everyone. so I figured I would spy on him."

Jonathan whistled softly. "Clever."

Willow wheeled on him. "I can get you in. Jacques never personally reviews these logs—has his people read them for him. If you have any concept of what you're searching for, you could very well find what you're after."

Jonathan's sneer was back again. "Willow Schnee, I believe I may owe you one."

She leveled him with a glint in her eye. "Just do me a favor—see to it when this is over, he has nothing."

Jonathan's golden eyes gleamed. "You have my word."

With that, Willow handed him the access codes, and Jonathan quickly synced the feed to his scroll.

As he turned toward the door, he glanced back. "What about you? If Jacques finds out—"

Willow waved a hand dismissively. "I'm just a drunk, remember? He won't suspect a thing."

Jonathan gave her one last nod before slipping into the hall.

For the first time in years, Willow permitted herself a tiny, genuine smile.
Jonathan stood outside the door, glancing back over his shoulder at Willow. "Also. if you do happen to see Weiss at any point soon, tell her I'm here."

Willow's expression softened, and she nodded slightly. "I will."

Jonathan nodded back prior to him sliding out of the office. He moved through the corridors stealthily, avoiding the main halls, through the side door where his ride was already waiting.

The car, an unremarkable dark vehicle, was parked outside the estate. The moment he emerged, the passenger-side window rolled down, and Zhenzi poked his head out, his tousled hair bobbing a little.

"Finally! You're done. What took you so long?"

Jonathan grinned as he got into the driver's seat. "Just catching up with an old friend."

Zhenzi raised an eyebrow but didn't pry as he slid back in.

With the car roaring to life and merging onto the road, Nozomu leaned forward from the backseat, arms folded. "So? Discover anything of note?"

Jonathan exhaled, gripping the wheel a bit harder as he drove. "Yeah. Jacques isn't running a dirty campaign— he's rigging the election. He's bribing someone to ensure the outcome in his favor."

The significance of those words lingered over the vehicle.

Nozomu frowned. "That's big. Did you get proof?"

Jonathan tapped his scroll, his gold eyes glinting in the dim light. "Oh yeah. And courtesy of Willow, I now have full access to his personal security feeds."

Zhenzi whistled low. "Damn. That's some next-level spy stuff. So, what's the plan now?"

Jonathan scoffed. "Simple. We let him dig his own grave. We'll leak the evidence when the time is right… and make sure everyone gets to see the kind of man he really is."

The car sped off into the Mantle night, their next move already in city lights blurred around them, the car hummed softly, the tension dissipating into something less charged. Jonathan focused on the road, mind still spinning with everything he had been told.

Xingren, arms crossed, shattered the silence. "By the way, I talked to Robyn today. She wants us to do security for her next function."

Jonathan's eyebrow went up. "She trusts us now?"

Xingren chuckled. "Not exactly at first. I had to have General Cooper vouch for us. Let's just say until she found out we weren't Atlas soldiers, things got… interesting."

Zhenzi snorted. "Yeah. 'Interesting' is one way to put it."

Jonathan glanced at him in the rearview mirror. "What did happen?"

Xingren grinned. "Oh, you're gonna love this."

-
A Few Hours Ago – Mantle Warehouse District

The warehouse was dimly lit, the sole illumination coming from the neon signs outside that glowed through the dirty windows. Nozomu, Xingren, and Zhenzi had set up temporary operations inside, their scrolls displaying logistics, maps, and coded messages.

Nozomu lounged on a crate, reading a mission brief on his scroll. "Alright, Jonathan's set for tonight. We just have to retrieve him once he's done with the Schnee job. Easy in, easy out."

Zhenzi, cross-legged on the floor, pounded irately on his scroll, his knee twitching. "I'm just saying, technically, I could've hacked the security system remotely. But noooo, Jonathan had to do it the old-school way."

Xingren, leaning against a support pillar, smirked. "Yeah, because nothing says 'low profile' like you accidentally triggering every alarm in the manor."

Zhenzi snorted but didn't argue.

Then, the front doors of the warehouse burst open.

All three of them sat up as a group of gun-wielding people stormed in, weapons drawn. At the forefront was Robyn Hill, whose piercing eyes scanned the room like a hawk.

"Hands where I can see them!" she ordered.

Nozomu's hands went up slowly, and he locked eyes with Xingren. Zhenzi, who was already tense, let out a sharp whisper. "This is so not good."

Robyn stepped forward, her lie-detecting Semblance already active. "Word is you've been poking around Mantle's security. You Atlas spies?"

Xingren sighed. "No, we're not—"

Robyn's eyes lit up as her Semblance caught the truth. She scowled. "Huh. You're not lying."

The Happy Huntresses exchanged wary looks.

Zhenzi took the opportunity to theatrically sigh. "Oh, thank God. Can we put the guns down now?"

Robyn's eyes narrowed. "Then who are you?"

Nozomu took a careful step forward. "We're with the Agency."

Robyn's brows furrowed. "Agency?"

Xingren pulled out his scroll, tapping through a secure app before holding it up. A classified authorization screen blinked onto the display, featuring a coded clearance and an insignia that was very much not Atlas military.

Robyn studied it for a moment. Then her expression changed entirely.

She turned to her team. "Stand down."

The Huntresses hesitated, then slowly stood down.

Robyn folded her arms. "Alright. You're not Atlas, and you're clearly not in league with Jacques Schnee." Her gaze flicked to the scroll. "But if I'm correct about what I'm suspecting, then you folks are playing a completely different game."

Nozomu bowed his head. "You could say that."

Robyn chuckled low. "Huh. Misjudged you. What's your interest in Mantle?"

Xingren jammed his hands into his pockets. "Same as yours—making sure the wrong people don't have more power than they already do."

Robyn observed them for another second, then smiled. "Okay. You just got promoted from 'potential enemies' to 'potential allies.' I do need security for my event."

Zhenzi's eyes went wide. "Wait—so now you trust us?"

Robyn smiled. "Not quite. But lucky for you, I like working with wild cards."

Back in the Car

Jonathan smiled as he listened to the story. "So you nearly got caught, and now you're working for her?"

Xingren shrugged. "Guess we're just that charming."

Jonathan chuckled. "Sounds like we just put
another piece on the board."

The car kept driving, the night still full of possibilities.
Jonathan flipped the radio stations, static between stations until he finally found something to listen to.

(Cue music: "Can't Repeat" by The Offspring 0.37-1.13)

The familiar guitar riff occupied the car, and Jonathan smiled, slapping his fingers against the steering wheel in rhythm.

Nozomu, sitting behind him, leaned forward, a faraway smile crossing his face. "Well, time's gonna catch up to us eventually… but for this one occasion, let's make it the best." He glanced at the others. "Just like old times, lads!"

Zhenzi, no longer the baby, threw up a fist. "Hell yeah!"

Xingren chuckled shaking his head " just don't get us killed before it's over"

Jonathan chuckled low, flooring the gas pedal a bit more as city lights passed like a blur.

For now, however, despite the night of anarchy that awaited, they were here. Together.

And for an instant, it was sufficient.
(Music cuts off)

The meeting with Ironwood was finally concluded, but the tension still lingered in the air. As a token to break the tension, Penny offered to take Team RWBY and Team JNPR on a tour of the academy. The team followed behind her down the spotless corridors, looking at the top-of-the-line technology and military training that defined Atlas.

Rusty walked alongside Penny, a grin on his face. He had always gotten along well with her—probably because she was one of the few people in Atlas who didn't come with a heap of political baggage.

"You know, Penny," Rusty said, hands in his pockets, "if everyone in Atlas was as fun as you, this place might actually be tolerable."

Penny beamed. "Thank you, Rusty! That is so sweet to say! I really do try to spread the good vibes!"

Rusty couldn't get a word in before a familiar voice cut through the air.

"Rusty."

He turned as Clover approached him, his usually serene face a little more serious than usual.

Rusty let out a quick breath, already sensing where this was going. "Clover. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Clover didn't waste any time. "I need to talk to you. Now."

Rusty glanced over at Penny, who tilted her head in curiosity. "I'll catch up," he said, flashing her a casual smile before trailing Clover to a less populated part of the hallway.

The moment they were out of hearing range, Clover folded his arms. "Where were you this morning? And don't try to give me that 'other assignments' line. Ironwood is starting to ask questions."

Rusty smiled, resting against the wall. "Relax, Clover. We were doing business. Nothing Ironwood needs to know about."

Clover's jaw twitched. "That's not how it is done, Rusty. We report everything."

Rusty shrugged. "Not everything needs to be reported."

Clover took a step forward, his voice softer. "I don't like secrets. And lately, you and Wuhuaguo have been somewhat too skilled at holding them back." His eyes hardened. "You're not hiding something, are you?"

Rusty felt the tension pivot. He'd had years of practice at his routine, but Clover's senses were too fine—too sharp. If he pressed too far, he might just start to fill in the gaps.

"Come on, Clover," Rusty said suavely, still smiling. "I think you're just paranoid. You know me. I'm as loyal as they come."

Clover didn't seem to be convinced.

Just when the tension between them was getting too long, the clicking of heels on marble echoed down the hallway.

"That's enough."

Winter Schnee materialized in the hallway, her icy eyes spotting Clover. "General Ironwood needs your presence for an update. Now."

Clover hesitated for a fraction of a second, his gaze flicking back and forth between Rusty and Winter, before he nodded brusquely. "Fine. But this isn't over." And then he turned and strode away.

Rusty exhaled a breath through his nose, shaking his head. "Subtle, huh?"

Winter's gaze snapped to him, slicing like a blade. "You're lucky I arrived when I did. Clover's not dumb—he's starting to suspect you."

Rusty's smile didn't falter, but he understood she was right on target. "Yeah, yeah. I'll keep an eye out."

Winter crossed her arms. "You and Wuhuaguo. If the two of you get into trouble, I won't be able to bail you out again."

Rusty nodded in understanding. "I get it."

Winter glared at him one last time before striding off.

Rusty let out a breath, rubbed the back of his head. "Close call."

Time to go a bit had hardly time to collect his thoughts when Wuhuaguo strolled up, pockets in her hands and seeing smile on her face.

"Luckyboy almost got us, huh?" she muttered quietly.

Rusty let out a raspberry through his nose, shaking his head. "Yeah. But Winter and Penny've got our six."

Wuhuaguo nodded, but her expression remained serious. "We need to be more careful. Ironwood might be unaware of us, but Clover is not."

Rusty gestured for her to follow him, and the two of them made their way to one of the academy's private briefing rooms. It was a secure room, typically reserved for strategic meetings, but tonight it was theirs.

Rusty shut the door behind them, checking for cameras. "Alright, we should be secure. Let's get down to business."

Wuhuaguo leaned his elbows on the table, interlacing his fingers. "We both notice Salem's working on something. Atlas is beside himself about keeping the Relics warehoused, but our directive is clear-cut—we lock them up first. If she gets her hands on even one, it's over."

Rusty nodded. "Yeah. The Agency's already working on the decoys. Realistic copies, each with tracking devices implanted. If Salem hits one, we'll know where she is."

Wuhuaguo drummed fingers against her arm. "But that's only half of it. To thin out her ranks, we need additional players on the board. Which leaves us with her."

Rusty grinned. "Neo."

Wuhuaguo nodded. "She's still with Cinder, but we know that won't last. Cinder's too selfish to share power, and Neo? She wants revenge, not loyalty."

Rusty rubbed his chin. "Her Semblance is what intrigues me most. If we can turn her over to us, she's the ultimate infiltrator. With the right push, she could be an asset."

Wuhuaguo sighed. "That's the trick, though—getting her pointed in the right direction. We need to get her thinking of Cinder as a liability before she's thinking of us as an opportunity."

Rusty grinned. "Leave that to me. I know how to deal with people."

Wuhuaguo arched an eyebrow. "Sure you do."

Rusty yawned and opened his arms. "Okay, but let's discuss the bigger issue. Salem's immortal, right? What's the most recent on that?"

Wuhuaguo's face shadowed a bit. "The Agency's research department is still trying to get to the bottom of it. There's something in the old myths about her—about being cursed. If there's a curse, maybe it can be broken."

Rusty's brow furrowed. "And if it can't?"

Wuhuaguo exhaled. "Then we don't kill her. We contain her. Permanently."

Rusty whistled softly. "That's ambitious."

She smiled. "So was making it this far into Atlas without anyone noticing."

Rusty chuckled. "Good point." He glanced at the clock. "Alright, let's keep our heads down for now. We'll deal with Neo soon enough, and the Relics. we do what the Agency tells us."

Wuhuaguo nodded. "Agreed. We play the long game."

With this, the two of them exited the briefing room and blended unobtrusively into the academy's halls again, as if they had just been chatting about nothing in brushed a hand across his hair, his usual smirk faltering for an instant. "Shit, forgot I had the tour. Need to catch up with Penny. You coming?"
Wuhuaguo smirked. "Wouldn't miss it."

The two rushed through the academy, brushing past halls until they spotted Penny escorting Team RWBY and Team JNPR along one of the pristine halls. Penny, ever the upbeat one, was gesturing wildly with her arms as she explained the various functions of the academy.

Rusty grinned as they approached. "Hope I didn't miss anything important."

Penny whirled around, her emerald green eyes twinkling. "Rusty! There you are!" She clapped with her hands before turning to the group. "Everyone, I'd like to officially welcome two highly skilled huntsmen—Rusty and Wuhuaguo!"

Ruby, who had been daydreaming until now, blinked as she realized. "These guys again?" She crossed her arms, tilting her head. "Okay, for real—who are they, exactly?"

Yang edged forward a bit, whispering to her sister. "I don't know, but they're giving off weird vibes."

Blake eyed them warily, noting how at ease they were in Atlas with no Ace-Ops or standard military uniforms.

Jaune, standing beside Pyrrha, shifted his weight slightly. "You guys went to Ironwood's party, didn't you?"

Rusty smiled. "Yeah. Big speeches and all."

Wuhuaguo just nodded, offering a polite smile. "Nice meeting you all in person."

Penny, however, looked utterly nonchalant. "Rusty is my godfather!" she announced with clear gusto.

That was more than enough to grab everyone's attention.

Weiss blinked. "Wait. What?"

Rusty smiled. "Yeah. Complicated story, but let's just say I hung around with her dad before Atlas got all. Atlas-y."

Penny clasped her hands. "And he has always been very kind to me!"

Ruby raised an eyebrow fractionally, still not quite right. "Okay, but. what exactly do you guys do?"

Rusty and Wuhuaguo exchanged the slightest of glances—one that Penny definitely saw, but that was it.

Rusty shrugged once more. "Oh, you know. Errands, some freelance work for Atlas. Boring stuff."

Yang raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. Right."

Pyrrha, who was standing beside Jaune, was watching the two with interest. She wasn't sure if they were lying or not, but they weren't being completely honest for sure.

Penny, smiling still, quickly changed the subject. "Come! I have so much more of the academy to show you!"

As the group went on, Rusty and Wuhuaguo blended in seamlessly, acting their part without a permanent grin. Penny threw a sideways glance at Rusty, muttering in word form I know, but not saying a thing.

Rusty grinned back.

They got away with their cover for the time an umbrella and a bag in hand, and sporting a new set of rings on his fingers, Arthur Watts strolled through the soggy streets of Mantle, speaking into his communicator.

Watts: "For the last time, one hideout puts us at risk of discovery."

He reached the side of a crosswalk, leafing through his scroll casually while tending the traffic post. The pedestrian signal switched in his direction, and he was able to continue uninterrupted.

But he continued a little further, and something out of the ordinary caught his attention.

His fingers stiffened in place.

Watts: "Wait… this is odd."

He investigated deeper, squinting. "Not from Atlas… it's coming from somewhere else. The IP's foreign, but the signal's bouncing too much to pinpoint."

A soft beep sounded from his device, showing a live connection. He wasn't alone in the system.

Watts: "Oh well."

He dismissed it as a low-level hacker and concentrated on more important matters to attend to.

Tyrian: "But what if we're seen? What if we're recognized?"

The unmistakable sound of multiple stabbings carried through the communicator.

Watts sighed, unfazed. "We stay mobile."

He reached another crosswalk and, with a simple flick of his scroll, changed the signal. Cars screeched to a halt as he walked through without a second thought.

Watts: "While cybersecurity has been stepped up in Atlas, as usual, none of the code was updated in Mantle."

He broke into another system with a sloppy flourish, security barriers bursting up out of the ground. A speeding car avoided them, slamming into a nearby pole.

A woman gasped, sprinting toward the wreckage. "Oh no! Gosh! Are you okay!?"

Tyrian chuckled blackly. "That would certainly be useful."

Watts smiled. "It should."

His thumb clicked on one of his cyan-glowing rings. In an instant, all the security cameras in the vicinity went dark.

Watts: "I contributed to that code, don't forget."

In the distance, muffled cries echoed from inside a building. The camera over its door flickered off.

A second later, the door groaned open.

Tyrian Callows stepped out, grinning with satisfaction as he wiped the blood from his clawed gauntlets—The Queen's Servants—and slapped the excess off his lethal scorpion stinger.

Tyrian: "Well, I suppose we all have our talents."

As he made his way down a back alleyway, blood had pooled at the entrance, spilling gradually into sight of the newly-disabled camera.

Vacuo – Liulian's Point of View

Halfway across Remnant, at the CIA'S Vacuo base, a lone scroll screen was alight.

Liulian leaned forward, golden eyes scanning the hacked Atlas security feed. Her fingers danced over the keyboard, rerouting signals and filtering through lines of code at a speed only a trained specialist could manage.

Liulian: "Jonathan… tell me you're seeing this."

A second feed flickered to life beside hers, and Jonathan's voice crackled through her earpiece.

Jonathan: "I see it."

The feed displayed Mantle's streets, the last frame before the security cameras shut down. Watts walking. Tyrian leaving a room filled with blood. The victim's body not in view, but the spreading red was enough.

Liulian's breath snagged. "Damn it. He killed someone in broad daylight."

Jonathan's tone was firm, but it had a cutting edge. "Watts is in Mantle. He set up their security programs, so we knew this was a risk."

Liulian's fingers curled. "And now he knows someone else was with him. That's gonna bite us later."

She panted, refocusing. "We have to move fast. If we lose that trail, we might never get at them again."

Jonathan's voice came again, low and level.

"We won't."