[RWBY] No Victory in Strength (Minecraft Jaune)

[eratas123]

Gacha parody with RWBY characters, as I mentioned in a previous fic. Posting it here for anyone interested. Minecrafr Jaune 3 is out for supporters and will be released here in a couple of weeks.

Note that despite the portrayal here, I don't really have anything against Gacha. Mostly because I don't play Gacha games and my main exposure are rage videos where people lose their minds when they lose the roll.

This'll be a two-part story. Chapter 1 shows how the heroes are handling the introduction of Gacha games while chapter 2 shows the villains. Turns out even the worst monsters on Remnant can't resist the allure.

Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this one. After this, I'm thinking of writing a 'What If' chapter for Minecraft Jaune where he chooses to go all-in on helping Menagerie and the consequences of that. Chapter 2 of this and chapter 3 of Minecraft Jaune are already out for supporters.

---

Chapter 1: 50/50 Salt

A new threat had taken over Beacon Academy, one that surpassed the Grimm or even Salem in its insidiousness. All the students, and even some of the professors, had found themselves helpless before it. It was a threat that could not be fought, that tempted even the strongest wills into giving themselves up before it. In all the years Ozpin had been alive, he had never before seen something so insidious, so subversive in its temptations. Ozpin took a sip of his hot chocolate and shuddered as the name passed through his mind.

Gacha games.

Even Salem's machinations paled in comparison to the reach of this new calamity. A week ago back when he'd first heard of it, he had shrugged and assumed that was just another fad that would pass. As an immortal, he had been witness to hundreds of trends that people assumed would last forever. Human sacrifice, religious inquisitions, disco...all ultimately came and went. They existed in some manner across Remnant even now, of course, but not to the peak of what they once were.

This was different, he could tell. There was something about it that made Ozpin understand that this new horizon would dominate Remnant in its entirety for eons to come.

Ozpin brought his hand across his face with a shuddering breath. It seemed harmless, one might think. People spending money on pixels. But Ozpin knew that it was just the start. Right now it was but a mere taste of the insanity. They wouldn't spend too much money, they would say. It's just a little bit of fun. Like a gambler taking their first bid. Except there were rules on gambling, strict rules that kept it from being accessed by teenagers.

He should've banned it when one of the students first started playing the damnable thing, but he'd refused. His age had blinded him to its true nature and he had foolishly assumed it was just another one of these video games the children of this age liked. Foolishness. Utter foolishness. How could he have been so blind?

His students - the future protectors of mankind - had (almost) all fallen under its thrall. He could count on one hand those who did not succumb to the temptation of these 'husbandos' and 'waifus'. Why butcher the language like that, he wondered. The headmaster of Beacon sighed and stared down morosely at his almost-empty cup. For thousands of years, he'd fought against impossible odds and yet he'd never felt so helpless as he did now.

He summoned Glynda on his scroll. She would know what to do. Banning the games outright wouldn't sit well with the students, but Glynda was nothing if not crafty. She could find some way to reduce the effects of the vile temptation that had overtaken his campus. Maybe by running the students so ragged during training that they wouldn't even have the energy to scream about 'losing the 50/50' and ranting about wanting 'freemocrystals'. Curse the youth and their insane slang!

Ozpin smiled as the door opened...only for it to fall at the sight of Glynda, deputy headmistress of Beacon Academy, walking with her nose buried in her scroll. Normally that wouldn't have been too odd a sight, but he heard the all-too-familiar sound emanating from the device.

"Come on, come on...no!" Glynda wailed, "How? Why am I not getting the Corroded Knight again?! I've spent hundreds already! This banner is rigged!"

"Ahem." Ozpin coughed pointedly. Glynda looked up from her scroll with obvious annoyance, "Good morning, Glynda."

"Headmaster. What do you want?" The blunt question made him blink in surprise. Glynda had always been respectful with a strict belief in hierarchy. Now she was looking at him like an unwanted distraction.

"I was actually hoping you would-"

"Hold that thought." She tapped her scroll and Ozpin's right eye twitched at the familiar whooshing sound that emanated from the screen. Seconds passed before Glynda's eyes suddenly widened, "Yes, finally! C6 Corroded Knight!" Glynda whooped and pumped her hands in the air, "Finally! Now my party can survive in the Abyss."

"Glynda-"

"Alright, now I just need to get the right composition," she continued, completely ignoring him, "Satin Crimson is good for off-tank and healing, but it's not enough when I get to floor 50. Obsidian Nightshade is good for DPS, but her low health means she's gonna get one-shotted by the barrier boss. Ugh, why did they have to nerf her?"

"Deputy Headmistress!" Ozpin screamed. It had been decades since he had to raise his voice.

"What? Can't you see I'm busy?" Glynda sighed, looking up at him with a slight scowl, "I need to get the right team or I'll never make it past abyss 50."

"I have no idea what any of that means." Ozpin pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, "Just...I need you to-"

"Actually, there's something I wanted to say first." It took everything Ozpin had not to scream when she pulled out a folded slip of paper and slid it across his desk "I'm cashing in all the vacation days I've saved up. I'll see you in a couple of months, headmaster."

"What?!" He eyed the form then looked back up at Glynda's already retreating form, "Wait, you can't just-"

"I can. I read up on the rulebook and there's nothing saying you can't cash in years worth of vacation days at once. Please do not contact me for the foreseeable future."

"But-" He didn't get to say more than that before she left and closed the door behind her. Ozpin stared at the door, mouth ajar. He halfway expected her to double back and explain that it was her cruel idea for a joke, but she never returned. Ozpin slumped back in his chair, a man defeated. Curse you, Gacha! Curse you!

---

Down in Team RWBY's dorm room, the four members were cooped up inside. It was a rare sight. Just a couple of weeks ago, the team had been flitting about all over Vale, picking fights with criminals and terrorists without fear. Now they were all lazing around on their beds or chairs with their faces practically glued to their scrolls. Not unusual for Ruby or Yang, but definitely so for Weiss and Blake.

Up on her bed, Ruby bit her lip as she looked over her party's stats. Allogene Clash had so many characters and finding the perfect build so they could complement one another was more complicated than Professor Oobleck's tests. She needed the perfect parties for the overworld exploration, boss fights, dungeon crawls, and resource gathering. There was no perfect party that could do everything at once...which only encouraged people to roll the banners to get as many characters as possible.

And weapons.

Silver eyes flicked to the second banner. It had a spear that would be perfect for the head of her dungeon party, but still...

Her mouth twitched and she gulped as she looked at her remaining primocrystals. She only had enough for two more rolls. After that, she'd have to spend money. She still had some Lien saved over, but she'd been hoarding it to get some new parts for Crescent Rose.

But she also knew that her party would've been at least 30 percent more effective if she got that spear...

Before she could stop herself, her finger tapped the Shop button. Just ten more rolls would be fine, right? It wouldn't be too expensive and she really needed that weapon if she wanted to get the perfect meta build. There were rumors that the company would put out a PVP update next month and the thought of being a scrub made her gut churn. Ruby Rose was not a scrub! She was the unbeatable queen of games no matter what Yang said.

Gulping once more, she bought a stack of primocrystals and went back to the weapon banner. One, two...twelve rolls later and the spear still didn't spawn. Ruby growled and went back to the shop, finger hovering over the currency button. She told herself she'd only roll ten times...but she was sure that she could get it! She could feel it in her bones. Just a few more rolls and she'd get the perfect weapon for Crimson Wolf! Her burst DPS would be insane!

A few more rolls wouldn't hurt...

Fifty rolls later and she finally got it. Ruby's eyes widened as the spear popped up on screen and she cheered. Okay, so maybe she'd spent multiple months worth of allowance on it, but so what? She could earn that back easy! Maybe do some missions on her free time. Crescent Rose would understand. She'd want her to be happy.

Across from Ruby on her own bed, Yang scowled at the screen as her party was wiped by the world ! This wasn't fucking fair! How the hell was anyone supposed to win against this fucking thing?! She growled and respawned at the nearest altar. Fuck, she was fighting the boss for hours now! What the hell was she supposed to do?! She memorized the patterns and got to the max level with her party. She even grinded to get a nice bow for Umber!

Okay, so she was playing with the default starter party, but so what? They had to be viable if they were given for free, right? So what if people said Umber was only good as a torch or that Eliza had shitty DPS? She ignored Ruby's previous taunts about how her team 'wasn't meta' and qued up for the boss again. She was gonna win this thing no matter how many tries it took. So what if she had to lose a few days banging her head against a wall? Huntresses didn't give up.

Her focus briefly shifted over to the banner before she scowled and looked back to the screen. She wasn't gonna spend her money on it. She wasn't! She could do this! She could-

"Hmph! Know your place, swine!" The boss stomped Kyle's face into the dirt. Game over.

...

It took everything Yang had to not chuck her scroll against the wall. No, it wouldn't help. It would just mean that bitch Capuccino won. Taking a deep breath, she scrolled over to the banner and put in her credit details. She could deal with less nights out at the club for the next few weeks...

Pacing around the room, Weiss skipped through the summoning animation and breathed out through her nose at the lineup she received. A couple of 4-stars and a smattering of low-tier weapons and ascension the heck was going on?! This was her 200th roll this day and she'd only gotten two five stars! One was that two thousand-year-old dragon in the body of twelve year old, because of course it was, and the other was a teenage boy with the most generic design she'd ever seen.

Weiss sighed in frustration and tapped the banner again. How could she lose the 50/50 so often? That had to be breaking some sort of rule? Was the company aware of who she was and deliberately rigging her rolls to ensure she spent more money? If so, she was going to have words.

...Right after this next roll.

Another 4-star, this one of James Crescent, the rookie knight. Ugh, how had she gotten ten copies of this wastrel already? Why couldn't she get the Corroded Knight? Her lips puckered into a deep frown as she stared longingly at the second banner. The Corroded Knight was featured prominently, his bearded visage and striking eyes staring straight into her soul. He was the very picture of a dignified warrior and gentleman. Something that all of Atlas could aspire to.

But of course, she'd had no luck in getting him. Oh no, she had to get 4-stars like Lian and Genevieve. How was she supposed to play with these weaklings? She hadn't even done anything after beating the tutorial. She wanted to start her journey right with the perfect team. All 5-stars, all max level, and equipped with the best weapons and accessories. Only then could she get through the tutorial and be taught how to use a glider.

She chewed on her lower lip and flicked over to the first banner. While she hoped to get the Corroded Knight, there was one character she wanted above all else. Pythia Nicolaides. A powerful warrior who was good at both range and melee distance. Her flaming red hair, striking green eyes, and flattering armor drew one's attention, as did her inflated stats. She was bar none the strongest character in the game as of the latest patch.

She was also obviously based on Pyrrha. She didn't say anything about it, humble as she was, but they all knew. Her stats and appearance meant that she was the rarest character to get with an estimated 0.1 percent chance of getting even a single spawn, nevermind the five other copies you needed to to access her later upgrade paths. There were even rumors of people who sold their houses in order to get enough money to make wishes.

They didn't get her anyway.

She tapped the banner again and her brows furrowed as the wish didn't register. She tapped once more and the banner remained static, "What the...?" She went to her payment details and looked it over. Everything appeared to be in order, so what was-

Her scroll suddenly rang, forcing the game to minimize. The word 'FATHER' slapped across the screen made her grimace, "Yes?" she asked, barely even attempting to hide the surliness in her tone. She could've been making wishes right now.

"Weiss." Her Father's greeting sounded terser than normal, "I've been receiving notices of numerous payments you've made over the course of the past week. Were you aware that you've spent close to ten thousand lien just this week alone?"

"That is..." She knew she'd been spending a lot recently, but she'd lost track of the exact amount. She simply always bought the highest primocrystals package since it meant saving money in the long run, "I've been buying some Dust recently." Blake, Yang, and Ruby looked up from their screens with questioning looks and raised brows. Weiss ignored them all, "With the recent Dust crisis in Vale, the supplies of Dust have only gotten more expensive. I can't be blamed for that."

"Dust? Is that what you call buying these so-called 'Primocrystals'?" Weiss winced. Drat, "Because I don't recall any sort of Dust product or promotion that has such an asinine name."

"It's, um-"

"I didn't come here to hear your excuses. As of this moment, your allowance is suspended."

"What?!" Weiss shrieked. The windows seemed to rattle with how loud she was, "Y-You can't do that!"

"I very well can. It's my money."

"You don't understand! I've only gotten for five starts this past week and they're still in C2? I can't stop now until I get Pythia! I won't let this be for nothing!"

"...I have no idea what any of those words mean. Regardless, you're cut off."

The call ended and the game dominated the screen once more. Weiss numbly raised her hand and tapped the banner again.

Nothing happened.

...

She fainted.

Blake looked up from her beanbag chair as Ruby sighed and hopped off her spot to drag Weiss back to her bed. The reaper not-too-gently just threw her onto the mattress before going back to her game. Blake rolled her eyes. Judging by the looks on both their faces, it was obvious that they'd spent far more than what they were comfortable with to get their wishes.

How shortsighted.

Blake was different. Five years she'd spent on the road having to scrounge for a living. The White Fang wasn't exactly rolling in lien and they all had to learn to live off the land. Especially in Mistral. Many services wouldn't dare accept a Faunus customer regardless of how much money they had.

She smiled at her scroll. While she didn't have the most optimal party, she'd gathered enough characters to be prepared for anything.

The best part was that it didn't cost her a penny. Well, sort of. While everyone else had to dip into their allowances, savings, and even the Beacon stipend, she'd found alternate means of funding herself.

Commissions. The game had an extensive list of characters and shipping had gone into overdrive. Many were less interested in actually playing the game compared to reading about the characters and Blake was there to provide that service. An afternoon spent writing and she had enough lien to go for ten or twenty rolls. She made money off the game while the game made money off her. The circle of life, she called it.

And seeing the looks on her teammate's faces, she knew that she'd made the right call.

---

Team JNPR's room was a contrast to their sister team. While Jaune and Pyrrha had their nose buried in their scrolls as well, the palpable feeling of anxiety in the air was absent.

Pyrrha smiled slightly as she tapped the weapon banner. It was odd. When she found out her likeness had been used as part of the game, she'd been utterly mortified. The company's reassurances that she would be well-compensated hadn't done much to help. Her face had been plastered on things before, of course, but this felt different somehow. People couldn't exactly control her likeness if it was in a cereal box, for example.

She spent the first few days utterly ignoring the game even as it spread through the school like wildfire. It was only when Jaune started playing it that she decided to give it a shot. Maybe it would allow them something to talk about. She'd even rolled on that Gacha thing, if only to make sure that she knew what she was talking about.

It was then that she fell in love...okay, not exactly, and she didn't fall for the gacha. No, it was something different.

James Crescent, the Rookie Knight. From what she gathered, he was considered a low-tier character with not a lot going for him. Pyrrha didn't care. There was something about him that drew her like a moth to a flame. The striking blue eyes, blonde hair that shined like the sun, and a dorky smile that made your heart melt. Who cared if he had 'low DPS', whatever that meant. She liked him for his character, for his earnest desire to help people no matter the odds.

She made sure Jau- er, James wanted for nothing. While she didn't make a habit of advertising it like Weiss did, Pyrrha had a very generous nest egg. Her tournament winnings combined with her various sponsorship ensured that she could live comfortably even if she decided to retire early. Withdrawing some funds to fund her rolls hadn't even made a dent in her bank account. After all, she had to make sure her Rookie Knight had the best. The right weapons, gear, and materials to ensure that he reached the max level as soon as possible.

And of coruse, he needed a companion. A...partner. A quick call to the company and they agreed to tweak her account's probabilities. Now she had both James and Pythia in her party as an adventurering pair exploring the land of Vatey. Alright, there were two others in the party due to hard-coded requirements, but she never put them in the field. She didn't need to. Pythia and Jaune were more than enough to explore the word.

...

She meant James.

She looked up from the screen to her partner. Like almost everyone else at school, he was playing the game, though so far he hadn't spent a single lien. She'd offered to give him the money - give because she didn't expect it to be paid back - but he refused. Completing specific missions gave a person one or two rolls. It was a slow method, and one the rest of the students considered far too tedious to do. Who had time to actually play the game when they could simply pay to get wishes?

And yet Jaune seemed to have Atlesian luck. Every single time he rolled, he'd come up with a minimum of four 5-star characters. She'd called the company and asked if they'd modified any other accounts but they assured her that she was a special case and she only got that benefit because of her work with the company.

"Sweet, another roll." Jaune cheered.

Pyrrha hopped off her bed and looked over Jaune's shoulder as the animation played. She was sure his luck would keep up.

And so it did. Pyrrha gasped softly at the sight of five Pythia characters lined up in a row next to a single Rookie Knight. This...was this a sign? Pyrrha believed in destiny, and this felt like fate giving her a signal, "Huh. Hey, Pyr. These 5-stars kinda look like you."

"S-So they do," Pyrrha blushed, "I heard she has really good stats, so why don't you-"

"Wow, these guys go for a lot of experience!" Pyrrha watched, utterly horrified, as he put a single Pythia into storage then dragged the other four away. "I've been hoping to level up Obsidian." He tapped the screen and the four Pythia copies were consumed to strengthen Obsidian Nighthsade. A reaper type character dressed in all-black who fought with a scythe. Pyrrha's eyes bulged as the four Pythias were ruthlessly sacrificed and turned into raw experience for the gleefully smiling reaper.

"Wh-Why did you do that?"

"Huh?" Jaune looked up, "Well...Obsidian's my favorite character. I really like her playstyle and I wanted to level her up."

"B-But what about Pythia! S-She has the best stats in the game!"

"Sure, but...I'm not playing this for stats or anything. I pick characters who are the most fun." Jaune shrugged. His utterly uncaring nature after having murdered four innocent Pythias nearly made her faint, "I mean, I might try the one I left in storage later, Obsidian's playstyle is just really working for me right now. Scythes are cool."

"I...I see." Pyrrha forced a smile on her face and stumbled back to her bed. Turning on her scroll once more, she smiled at the sight of Pyrrha and Jaune exploring the world as a duo.

Across the room, Ren and Nora looked at their teammates with pity. Ren shook his head and sighed while Nora had an uncharacteristic frown on her face, "Ugh, I can't take it, Renny! Why's everyone acting so weird? That's my job!"

"It appears you're now trapped with me in the land of sanity, Nora."

"But I don't like it here~!"

"There's nothing we can do about that." Ren sighed once more. Of everyone on campus, they were rare ones - possibly the only ones - who failed to see the appeal of this glorified gambling ring. Perhaps it was due to living a life of frugality for over a decade. Orphans outside the walls didn't have many opportunities for luxury and they had to learn to save every little bit of lien they had. Stormflower and Magnhild were the result of years of hard work. It was something tangible.

The thought of spending so much money for the chance to get some pixels on a screen made him feel sick. Who could afford such gluttonous excess, Ren thought. At least Nora's pancakes filled her stomach. Lines of code were meaningless.

"How long do you think it's gonna be like this?" Nora asked with a scared whimper.

"I don't know exactly, but I have the feeling we're going to be in this for the long haul."

---

Yikes. Some people just can't control themselves, huh? At least Jaune and Blake are handling it well. Hope you guys like this one.

Wanna help support me (and gain access to chapters a week or two early)? Then check out the link below:

Patreon.com/Vendetta543

 

[eratas123]

Next chapter of Gacha RWBY, this time focusing on the villains being affected by Gacha. Next Minecraft Jaune chapter will be out next week for free readers. Currently writing the new chapter

For anyone interested in making a commission, email me at: storylover543@gmail.com

---

But it wasn't just the heroes of Remnant that had fallen into the Gacha's clutches. The allure had claimed both the virtuous and the villainous, the saints and the sinners. From the greatest heroes to the most depraved of monsters, no one escaped the all-encompassing pull.

Such as it was with one Roman Torchwick. The infamous thief trudged back to his safehouse with his head hung low. Working for Cinder wasn't fun. The fiery bitch didn't pay a single cent for all the jobs he did for her and she saddled him with those White Fang animals. Amateurs and zealots. Say what you would about him, but he was a professional. Just cause he was a showman didn't mean he let it stop him from doing what he had to. So what if he was on every camera? He still stole from that bank or store or museum!"

The reminder of what crime he could be committing made him depressed. It was a perfect, crime-full day! People were practically begging to be victimized! But nooo, apparently no one else thought so! Neo - his partner, the only person that mattered on this Brothers forsaken planet - wasn't answering his calls. Junior, who was normally so reliable, wasn't taking his calls either. Even the White Fang and Cinder were ghosting him! They were blackmailing him and now they didn't even have the time to answer his calls! Rude!

And why had everyone in this city gotten so damn lazy? One word: Gacha.

It took over the city by storm. One day everyone was excited about the Vytal or gossiping about which Huntsman would snag the win and the next they were all glued to their scrolls talking about 'banners' and 'husbandos and waifus'. Roman wasn't an old man - he was only 33, thank you very much - but he definitely felt like one listening to everyone talk about things that went in one ear and out the other. What the heck was 'freemocrystals' and why did people cry about 'getting C6 Benny'?

His shoulders sagged as he walked down the street. That would've normally been dangerous considering he was the most infamous criminal in all of Vale, but no one even cared. They all looked down at their scrolls and passed him by without a second glance. Even the cops didn't bother to look up from their scrolls. Roman had stopped and coughed at a bunch of them, just daring them to look up and actually do their damn jobs. All he got was some half-hearted 'we're busy, citizen' and a couple saying he should 'get that cough looked at'! Arggggh!

Even going to Junior's place directly hadn't helped. Junior, his entire gang, and even those two bouncers were too busy 'rolling banners' or whatever the heck those crazy addicts called it. It was right then and there that Roman knew that he wasn't going to get anywhere today. Even if he could rob some place right now, everyone would still be too glued to their scrolls to notice. Fire bitch could've enacted her plan to destroy Vale right now and they couldn't be assed to look up.

Sighing, Roman picked up his scroll. Not to play the game (because he wasn't a moron), but to check his bank account. Things had been pretty tight lately but so far he and Neo managed to avoid spending any-

He nearly dropped his scroll at the numbers that greeted him. 37 lien. 37 lien out of the tens of millions he'd squirreled away over his decade of being Vale's premier thief. It might not have sounded like a lot, but a lot of his assets came in the form of priceless stuff that couldn't be sold on the black market. Still, what he did have was enough for him and Neo to live comfortably off the grid if it ever came down to it. 30 million lien could grease a lot of palms.

Now it was all gone.

And he knew exactly who to blame, "NEEEEOOOOOO!" He screamed, his voice echoing across all of Vale. He ran like a man possessed and didn't stop until he reached her apartment. Without even bothering to knock, Roman kicked the door down and stomped inside, mouth frothing in a rage, "Where are you?!" You have some explaining to do, young lady!"

He kicked down the door to her bedroom and found the culprit looking like all was right with the world. Contrary to her usual looks, his partner looked borderline unrecognizable. Gone was the effortless style and cockiness that marked her as Roman Torchwick's equal. Instead, she looked absolutely haggard. Hair messy, bags under her eyes, and wearing nothing but a stained, oversized shirt and a pair of boxers that definitely didn't belong to him; he preferred briefs, thank you.

The entire room was a mess too, laden with empty bags of chips and energy drinks. He sniffed the air and grimaced at the stench. By the Brothers, how long was it since she bathed?! "You have a lot of explaining to do, young lady!" Roman grabbed her by the collar and dragged her out. She struggled like a limp cat, hands desperately pressing her scroll against her chest. Roman resisted the urge to toss her into the tub for a much-needed soak and instead dropped her on the couch.

"Explain." He snarled, crossing his arms like the disappointed father he was far too young to be.

Neo tilted her head to the side like the little girl she definitely wasn't and gave him a look of pure confusion, "Uh-uh, I'm not falling for it! Don't forget who taught you that look, young lady!" Roman pointed his finger at her nose, "What the hell happened to all our savings?!"

Neo shrugged and looked away.

"I know when you're lying. I taught you everything you know!" Neo rolled her eyes. Roman's mouth twitched. This little brat. Fine, she wanted to play hardball? He'd play.

Without warning, he reached down and took the scroll from her hands. Neo gasped silently and reached out, but it was too late. Neo might've been the brawn to his brains, but there was one undeniable truth: he was tall and she was short. He raised his left hand, the one holding the scroll, and grabbed her head with the other. She struggled and (silently) screamed, desperately trying to take back her drug, but he refused. Even her Semblance didn't help. He knew exactly what kinds of tricks she pulled.

"You're not getting this back until you explain!" He grimaced and ignored how she scratched and bit at him. There was a reason he didn't indulge in anything addictive. In the end, you always lost, "I'm giving you the count of five before I toss your scroll out the window! One...two...three-"

Neo suddenly pulled back and, much to Roman's surprise and disgust, got down on her hands and knees. Neo never begged for anything in her life, and now here she was, doing just that for her game. Roman's heart broke at the sight of it, "...Explain." He sighed and handed her the scroll back.

His partner made a wide array of gestures and expressions as she told her 'gripping tale'. She'd played the game for a few days and realized a bitter truth: there was no 'husbando' just for her. She looked and she looked, but there was no one that scratched that itch. And so she designed one of her own. The perfect 'husbando' from top to bottom that appealed specifically to her. And then she put her super duper special original character into the game.

"But why did you spend money?!" Roman threw his hands up, "You know how this works!" She made an X-shape with her hands and stuck out her tongue, "What do you mean 'you tried to do it the usual way'? Find an employee and threaten him. If that doesn't work, kill him, hide the body, then go for another-

Another long string of gestures and expressions. She did try to threaten an employee to find out who the mysterious boss of this Gacha machine was. They refused to break under torture and she disposed of them. Then she went after half a dozen more. It always ended the same way. They were more loyal to their mysterious boss than they were scared of losing their life to whatever Neo did to them. Neo loved herself a spot of torture here and there, but she knew when she was beaten. She couldn't get her 'Husbando' into the game with threats, so she dipped into their bank account...

"Neo, that was all of our savings! You know we can't sell anything else we've stolen!"

She was completely shameless, of course. It was worth it. She had to get her personal spank material into the game. She needed this. So on and so forth. Roman groaned and sat next to his diminutive partner. What else was he supposed to do? Neo didn't know the meaning of shame and telling her that spending 30 million lien on pixels was a bad thing just wouldn't register. Might as well tell her that theft and murder were generally frowned upon.

"Ugh. Fine, you know what? Show me this virtual boyfriend of yours. I should at least see what you spent our life savings on."

Neo jumped up excitedly and shoved the screen in his face. Roman wrinkled his nose at the smell of days-old junk food and watched as she tapped through a bunch of her characters. A blonde dame with her fists up, someone who looked like Pyrrha Nikos, some blonde knight with a really punchable face...shit, how many did she have? She cycled through a few (dozen) more of them before eventually stopping at her original character that must not be stolen. She tapped the screen and smiled proudly at him.

...

...

...

"This is the exact same as that knight character!" Roman screamed.

Neo looked horrifically offended at the idea and scowled. 'You take that back,' her eyes seemed to say. Roman did not. Instead, he grabbed her scroll and cycled back to the blonde knight. James Crescent. What a stupid name, "Your 'original character' is literally just this one except yours has heterochromia and a white streak in his hair! That's it! You spent thirty million lien on a color swap!"

'Nuh-uh!' She didn't say that, of course, but she kicked his side and took her scroll back before she stuck her tongue out at him. She swiped back to her color swap and cooed at the screen. How? How could she not see that it was literally just the same guy with slightly different colors?! He'd call it a scam, but that would imply they had to put in the effort to trick her! Passing off a cardboard box as Schnee Manor wasn't a scam, it was bending reality!

Roman sagged on the couch as Neo continued to fawn over her Original Character. Gacha...such a terrifying, evil thing. Addiction made fools of them all, he thought as he lit a cigar. Never catch him falling for that trap.

---

Sienna Khan had worked hard over the years to turn the White Fang from a ragtag group of ineffective activists into a name that struck fear in those who would oppress their kind. They called themselves freedom fighters. Others called them terrorists, though that came from a place of ignorance and entitlement. It was so easy to brand those who did not conform to your narrow worldview as criminals, deviants, and aberrations. Terrorists. They were simply people who were tired of being stepped down on.

It took years, but she'd cultivated a complex network of cells and informants, all ready and willing to give their lives for the cause. That and various legal and illegal ventures that funded their various activities. Connections to the black markets and funds entrusted only for usage only to those most loyal ensured that they never lacked for material support. While they couldn't match the Schnees or Atlas' cherished military, she ensured that no member of the Fang ever went into battle lacking, despite what their enemies claimed.

Sienna's right eye twitched as she sat up on her throne. Looking down at her scroll, she pinched herself with her free hand to make sure she wasn't dreaming. It hurt, so she wasn't dreaming and she really was looking at multiple empty bank accounts. It would've been foolish to put all their eggs in one basket, as it were, and as such she made certain that their numerous front businesses and ventures were deposited into dozens of bank accounts or stored physically in various safe locations.

And now it was all gone.

All of the White Fang's accounts had been drained down to the last zero. Meanwhile, no one in the cells she contacted was responding to her calls. Was it a simultaneous decapitation attack? Impossible. They were scattered all across Remnant. It would've taken a combined alliance of all four kingdoms to hit them at the exact same time, and there was no chance that any of her numerous spies and moles wouldn't have warned her of such an alliance.

So what was going on? What threat had taken her entire organization and brought it to its knees?

Elsewhere on Vale, deep in Adam's White Fang cell...

"No, I lost the 50/50!" Perry screamed. The bespectacled terrorist fell on his knees and punched the floor like he'd been told he had only seconds to live.

"So did I! What the fuck is with this?!" Deery shouted after.

"Don't give up! Keep rolling! Money isn't an issue!" Adam shouted. His entire cell was gathered in one room, dozens of them huddled over their scrolls as they rolled the banner over and over. It wasn't just any banner, though. It was for the newest character, one whose banner had been released just a day prior.

The Mysterious Beauty, Kunoichi Kitty. A ninja catgirl who used a combination of a katana and various ninja tools to incapacitate her opponents for quick burst damage. Not that he really cared about that, of course. Playing this inane game was beneath him. However, something in the character...stirred something within him that he couldn't explain. He was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Her amber eyes, that dark hair...her rear end. It was familiar in ways he couldn't explain.

And he wasn't the only one. His entire cell, and other cells as well, found themselves drawn to Kunoichi Kitty too. To them she was an undeniable presence, temptation made flesh...er, data. It wasn't enough that he had her. All of them had to have her. They would not rest until everyone in the White Fang had C6 Kunoichi Kitties! For that, they'd suspended all active operations and withdrawn as much funding as needed. As one of the White Fang's trusted leaders, he had access to all the bank accounts and put that position to good use.

"I...I did it! I got her!" Ilia cheered, hopping up in excitement. She showed off her scroll, the screen dominated by Kunoichi Kitty standing with her back to the player, exposing her bountiful rear clad in those tight leather pants. Because ninjas wore tight leather, obviously, "I can't believe it!"

"That's a good start, but we have to keep going!" He raised his own scroll with a C2 Kunoichi Kitty, "We won't stop till the entire White Fang has her at C6! Kunoichi Kitty belongs to the Faunus, not those filthy Humans, and we'll prove it here! For the White Fang!"

"FOR THE WHITE FANG!"

---

Cinder Fall had grown up with nothing. Born in an orphanage in the ass-end of Mistral, she'd grown up wanting along with the other abandoned dregs of society. While others grew up with loving parents and wanted for nothing, Cinder had to scrounge for everything. Mistral was a land of Haves and Have-Nots, and the former had no sympathy for the latter. If you were poor and helpless then it must've been because you deserved it. And so Cinder must've been the same.

Things only got worse when she was 'adopted' by the Madame and her two daughters. Her time under their care, and Rhodes' uselessness, taught her one thing: the world didn't care about who you were. If you wanted something you had to take it, and Cinder wanted power. To never be weak again. Things such as morality and rules were to be disregarded. It was nothing more than an excuse for the powerful to stamp down those beneath them. They didn't care for morals and neither did she.

Whatever Cinder wanted, she got.

And right now she wanted all those characters!

Cinder smirked as she added another C6 to her collection. Dozens of characters the game had and she was going to take them all. While others were limited to such things as money and the need to save in order to survive to the next day, Cinder wasn't burdened with such weaknesses. Working for Salem came with many benefits, one of which was a hacked Black Card that came with nigh-unlimited funds. She could've used it to buy all the Dust she needed, but that would've drawn attention. Besides, the chaos Roman and the White Fang enacted helped in her plans.

She was far less shy about using the card for this, however.

Cinder returned to her list and smiled gleefully at the sight. All of the playable characters unlocked, all C4 at minimum, and all of them loaded with the best weapons and equipment money could buy. She wasn't going to stop until she had the best account in the entirety of Remnant. It was what she wanted, what she deserved. She would throw away millions if it meant being able to lord over all the cretins at this school, to see their envy at what she'd achieved with her own two hands.

She returned to the game and blinked. A new quest had popped up.

"Emerald!" Her servant was at her side immediately, always eager to please, "Another world quest. Finish this up soon. I want to keep rolling."

"Y-Yes, Cinder!" The girl bowed and held her scroll like it was a holy artifact as she began to play. What? She wasn't going to actually play the game like some plebian. She rolled the gacha for characters and equipment, but she left all that tedious grinding and equipping to Emerald. Because it wasn't enough that she had all the characters but also an account that completed every single thing. Every treasure chest, every quest, every difficult boss fight. All beaten by Cinder Fall's account.

She'd heard that rankings would be released soon. The most prolific accounts would've had their names immortalized, and she aimed to make sure that her name was on the top of the list. She closed her eyes and smirked at the thought. Everyone in Vale - no, everyone in Remant - looking on at her in envy and desire. The top Gacha player in the entire world. Oh yes, the looks on their faces would nourish her for years to come.

Across the room, Mercury lay down on his bed and looked at his two 'teammates'. Cinder was sitting down and cackling to herself while Emerald ran herself ragged to play a game she didn't even like. Simp. The assassin rolled his eyes and tapped his own scroll. He wasn't interested in that stupid gambling shit. Apart from drinking, gambling was the other vice his old man enjoyed. He wasn't very good at it either. Explained why the best assassin on Remnant lived in a dilapidated shack in the ass-end of Anima.

And he was a sore loser too. He had a lot of bruises every time Marcus came back from a losing streak.

So yeah, he wasn't interested in all that shit, but there was something else that got his attention. People were obsessed with leaks. Like, they'd sacrifice their own moms if it meant finding out who the next character would be, where the story would go next, and what kit would be the new meta.

So...he got creative. He wasn't a supergenius hacker like Watts, but the old man taught him some tricks. He found out who the next character would be and leaked it in specific places on the Dustnet. Places that everyone at Beacon went to. It was both stupid and scary how much people cared about that shit. Everyone was panicking about whether they should save their money for the new character and there were fucking fistfights over whether the new character made the other ones redundant.

Then he realized he could have his fun.

A few fake emails and spoofed addresses later and he'd turned himself into the most prolific leaker on the Dustnet. Sometimes his leaks were accurate, sometimes they were total bullshit. It was never fully one or the other. Too accurate and it'd get boring, but too much bullshit, and people would stop caring. Seeing the arguments people got up to was the highlight of his day.

Like yesterday when he released the (true) leak that James Crescent and the Corroded Knight was the same guy from different points in time. Holy shit, the school went ballistic. Schnee went on a rant about how it was impossible and that there was no way 'that dashing knight' would be the same character as 'that lout James'. For some reason, that led to Nikos getting pissy and starting a fight with her. It was fucking amazing how obsessed people could get about their favorite pixels.

Maybe he was an asshole for it, but it wasn't like he made them act like morons about their favorite 2D drawings. They were the ones who chose to get so obsessed with them. He was just having his fun where he could.

Like right now. His next (fake) leak, complete with edited screenshots. The idea of it just came to him last night. A leak that Pythia Nicolaides was going to die in the next patch against the new bad guy, Ember Rise. And then James Crescent and Obsidian Nightshade would get together because they realized life was too short. He got the feeling that this would set the school on fire. Maybe literally, maybe not. Either way, he was gonna have his fun.

He uploaded the leaks and waited. One hour passed, then two, and then came the shriek, "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" He winced. Huh, sounded like Nikos. Geez, she had a pair of lungs on her. He was surprised their windows didn't shatter. He turned on his scroll again and laughed under his breath at the comments. Some of them calling bullshit, some of them saying they knew it was gonna happen, some celebrating 'their OTP', whatever the fuck that meant.

Mercury scrolled through the comments and then turned his scroll off, letting the sounds of panic and screaming outside lull him to sleep.

---

Poor Roman. And Sienna. If only they weren't murderous thieves and terrorists, you could actually feel sorry for them. Anyway, I considered a Salem segment but I cut it out. Maybe if I make a chapter 3, but I'm tempted to end it here.

Wanna help support me (and gain access to chapters a week or two early)? Then check out the link below:

Patreon.com/Vendetta543

Question:

1. If there is a chapter 3, who do you guys wanna see be affected next? We already dealt with most of the main characters at this point.

2. Given the Neo segment, would you guys be interested in a Silent Knight story from me? Not sure how I could sell it, though...

 

[eratas123]

Hey-o! Here's the what-if omake I had planned months ago: what if Minecraft Jaune was a Faunus? Turns out, the kingdoms hoping to exploit him are even more screwed than they are in the main storyline. Meanwhile, Blake just gets an immediate critical success dice roll due to the race modifier.

For people asking, the guy commissioning this is on vacay and he'll be back in a month or two. So omake first. Hope you guys enjoy this one.

For anyone interested in making a commission, email me at: storylover543@gmail.com

---

Blake had seen many impressive things in her life. Atlas's floating marvel of technology (which was used to prop up exploitative racists), Mistral's ancient temples perched atop mountains (also used to prop up exploitative racists), the grandeur of Vale's walls that kept the Grimm at bay (less racist, but that wasn't saying much), and the labyrinthine maze of Vacuo's capital (not racists, if only because they hated everone outside of their group).

But nothing, not a single thing, had prepared her for the sight of Domremy.

The village-turned-kingdom stood as a testament to what was possible when someone with extraordinary abilities decided to use them for the betterment of all. Buildings that would have made Atlesian architects envious rose from what had once been simple countryside. Streets were immaculately paved, every storefront meticulously designed to be both beautiful and practical. The wall surrounding the settlement rivaled Vale's own defenses, with turrets and watchtowers that made the perimeter look utterly impregnable. Specialized airships flew through the air patrolling the city and it's surroundings while golems walked the streets hailing citizens.

It was nothing like the rough-hewn settlements Blake had passed through during her time with the White Fang. Those places had been built from necessity, cobbled together from whatever materials could be scavenged or afforded to allow survival against the Grimm and bandits (and groups like the White Fang...). Domremy was different. Every inch of it screamed intention and care.

Blake's cat ears twitched beneath her bow as she took in the sounds of a thriving community. Children laughing, merchants calling out their wares, the distant clang of a blacksmith's hammer. Al signs of prosperity that she rarely saw outside the kingdoms, "It's nothing like the reports said," Weiss murmured beside her, her eyes wide with wonder as she stared at a building decorated with actual gold inlay, "This is..."

"Impossible?" Blake asked.

"I was going to say 'remarkable', but yes, that too."

Ruby had darted ahead with Yang, the younger girl practically vibrating with excitement as she examined every weapon shop they passed. It left Blake alone with Weiss, something that would have been uncomfortable just a few weeks ago. Now, after their confrontation about the White Fang, things between them were... not friendly, exactly, but civil. An improvement, even if their relationship was on tenterhooks. At least the heiress hadn't exposed her.

"Look at that," Blake said, gesturing toward a field where workers harvested crops that, from what they'd been told, had grown to maturity in mere minutes, "Do you know how many people this could feed? How many starving communities outside the kingdoms could benefit from something like that?"

Weiss followed her gaze, a calculating gleam in her ice-blue eyes, "The logistics of distribution would be challenging, but yes, the implications are staggering. The SDC has agricultural divisions that would pay fortunes for this technology."

Blake scoffed, "Of course that's where your mind goes. Corporate profit."

"Don't start, Blake," Weiss glared, her voice cooling several degrees, "Agricultural technology that can produce food this quickly would benefit everyone, not just the SDC. Lower food costs, less shipping expense, greater availability-"

"And higher profit margins," Blake cut in.

"Which could be reinvested in better working conditions and safety protocols for all employees," Weiss countered, "Despite what you think, not everything my family does is evil."

"Just most of it," Blake muttered, but let the subject drop. They'd had this argument too many times already. The two continued walking, drifting away from the busier part of town and separating from Yang and Ruby. Blake noticed that unlike in Mistral or Atlas, there wasn't any segregation here. Humans and Faunus worked side by side in the fields, chatted together at market stalls, and shared tables at outdoor cafes. There was none of the tension she was accustomed to seeing, none of the sidelong glances or pointedly ignored presences.

"Have you noticed?" she asked Weiss, nodding toward a mixed group sharing drinks outside a tavern.

"The integration?" Weiss replied, "Yes. It's... unusual for a settlement this far from the kingdoms."

"It's unusual for places inside the kingdoms too," Blake said, "But here it seems natural."

"Perhaps when everyone has enough, there's less reason to fight over scraps," Weiss said thoughtfully, "Or perhaps Jaune Arc simply doesn't tolerate prejudice. The reports said he's responsible for most of this, after all."

And there it was: the real reason they were here. Jaune Arc, the young man whose Semblance had apparently transformed this village into a wonder practically overnight. The person who, according to their briefing, could create almost anything from raw materials with astonishing speed and skill. Blake had her doubts about a single person being responsible for all this. She'd lived long enough to know that when something seemed too good to be true, it usually was. But as they walked through Domremy, those doubts became harder to maintain.

"You know," Weiss said, her voice suddenly casual in a way that immediately put Blake on guard, "The SDC could use someone like Jaune Arc."

"I'm sure it could," Blake replied dryly.

"I'm serious. With his abilities, we could revolutionize Dust mining. Make it safer, more efficient. The environmental impact alone would be-"

"Stop," Blake cut her off, irritation flaring, "Just stop. I know what you're thinking, Weiss."

The heiress raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow, "Oh? Do tell."

"You want to recruit him. You want to bring him back to Atlas so he can help the SDC become even more of a monopoly than it already is."

"I want to help him use his gifts for the greater good," Weiss countered, her voice sharp.

"The greater good?" Blake laughed, a short, bitter sound, "The SDC hasn't cared about the greater good since your grandfather died, and we both know it."

Weiss's face reddened, "That's exactly why I need Jaune's help! With his abilities supporting me, I could make the changes my father never would. Proper safety protocols, fair wages for all workers regardless of species, sustainable mining practices-"

"And what about the Faunus who don't work for the SDC?" Blake asked, "What about the ones living in cramped conditions in Menagerie because the humans pushed them out of everywhere else? The ones facing discrimination every day in the kingdoms? Are they supposed to just wait while the rich get richer?"

"What are you suggesting?" Weiss asked, narrowing her eyes.

"I'm suggesting that maybe Jaune's abilities could be better used helping the Faunus build a true home in Menagerie. A proper kingdom with defenses that could withstand Grimm attacks, with enough housing and food for everyone. A place where we wouldn't have to hide who we are or live in fear. A place for us to to go so we don't have to contend with being second-class citizens."

"And you don't think that's just as selfish as what you're accusing me of?" Weiss crossed her arms, "You want him to use his abilities exclusively for the Faunus."

"For a people who've been oppressed for generations," Blake replied, "For those who've never been given a fair chance at equality even after we fought and bled for it."

"By creating a separate, segregated kingdom? How does that promote unity between our peoples?" Weiss looked smug, as if it was the 'aha' she was looking for. After all, hadn't the Faunus fought in the Revolution for the right to not be segregated?

"It gives us a position of strength to negotiate from. How do you expect equality when one side has all the power? With a proper kingdom, the Faunus will have a seat at the table. Cause let's not pretend that Atlas doesn't use its army to bully concessions they want." They'd stopped walking, standing in an empty side street while their voices rose with each exchange. This was an old argument for them, one that had played out in various forms since their confrontation in the docks. Neither had budged in their position and both Ruby and Yang learned to just let them air out their grievances.

It was an argument she was getting tired of.

"We've been doing this dance since you found out about who I was." Blake sighed, rubbing her temples, "We're never going to agree."

"Probably not," Weiss pursed her lips, "But that doesn't change the facts. The SDC under my leadership could benefit millions across Remnant. With Jaune's help, we could revolutionize Dust extraction and distribution."

"And Menagerie could become a true sanctuary for my people," Blake countered, "A place where Faunus could live without humans looking down on them or exploiting them."

"So we're at an impasse."

"I suppose we are."

The tense silence between them was broken by the sound of construction. Not the typical bang of hammers or whine of power tools, but something stranger. A rhythmic popping and shifting, like pieces clicking together at impossible speeds.

Blake's curiosity overcame her irritation, "What is that?"

"Let's find out," Weiss replied, clearly just as intrigued.

They followed the sound to a previously empty field at the edge of town. What they saw made them both stop in their tracks. A young man with shaggy blond hair stood in the center of the field, moving with inhuman speed as he constructed what appeared to be a massive barn and silo. His hands blurred as he placed materials - wood, stone, metal - that seemed to appear from nowhere. The structure rose before their eyes, taking shape in minutes rather than the days or weeks it would've needed.

Around him, the earth itself transformed. Tilled soil appeared in neat rows, followed immediately by sprouting plants that grew to maturity in seconds. Wheat, corn, potatoes; an entire farm's worth of crops manifesting in the time it took Blake to blink a few times.

"That's him," Weiss whispered, her voice a mixture of awe and calculation, "That has to be Jaune Arc." Blake could only nod, stunned by the display. The reports hadn't exaggerated; if anything, they'd undersold his abilities. This wasn't just an unusual Semblance. This was something else entirely, something that defied everything she thought she knew about what was possible. Miracles on command. Something that made the fairy tales about magic look like the works of a stage magician.

As they watched, Jaune finished placing the last of the roofing on the barn and stepped back to admire his work. He stretched, rolling his shoulders as if he'd done nothing more strenuous than take a light jog.

"Perfect timing," Weiss murmured, smoothing down her combat skirt and checking her hair, "I should introduce myself. The SDC's reputation might help break the ice."

Blake nearly rolled her eyes. Weiss clearly intended to use her status to impress Jaune, to gain an advantage in securing his help. It was a calculated move, one Blake had seen the heiress employ before. Most people were intimidated or star-struck by the Schnee name. It usually worked. Weiss stepped forward, her posture perfect, a practiced smile on her face. The heiress in her element, prepared to charm and persuade and manipulate.

And then Jaune turned around.

At first glance, he looked unremarkable. Average height, athletic build, friendly face. Almost handsome, but not striking in the way someone with his abilities might be expected to be. He wore simple work clothes: jeans, a light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and sturdy boots.

But as he moved, Blake noticed something that had been hidden by his shaggy blond hair: a pair of floppy golden ears that twitched slightly in the breeze.

Dog ears.

Jaune Arc was a Faunus.

Blake's breath caught in her throat as understanding dawned. She glanced at Weiss, whose perfect smile had frozen on her face, her eyes wide with shock. The heiress had clearly been expecting a human, someone she could approach with her usual confidence and social standing. Instead, she was faced with a member of the very race her family's company was notorious for mistreating.

A laugh bubbled up in Blake's throat, impossible to suppress. The irony was too perfect, "Go ahead, Weiss," Blake said, not bothering to hide her grin, "Tell a Faunus how he should help improve a company that treats our race as slave labor. I'm sure he'll be very receptive."

Weiss bristled, her composure fracturing as pink suffused her pale cheeks. For once, the eloquent heiress seemed at a loss for words. Blake reached up and untied her bow, letting her cat ears free in the open air. She rarely did this outside of their dorm room, but here, watching Weiss's carefully constructed plans crumble, she felt safe enough. Besides, she had a feeling it might help in what was to come.

With a satisfied little smile, Blake watched as Weiss gathered herself and stepped forward toward Jaune, "Hello there," Weiss said, her voice overly bright, "I'm Weiss Schnee. My team and I were sent to investigate your very remarkable settlement."

Blake didn't miss the slight falter in Jaune's friendly smile at the name "Schnee." It was subtle - just a momentary twitch at the corner of his lips - but it was there. Every Faunus on Remnant knew the Schnees. They were almost as bad as Mistral when it came to abusing their race. Those two kingdoms were the only ones who could still put up 'No Faunus Allowed' signs without it being considered illegal. Vale, to its credit, tried to be a bit more suble with its prejudice.

"Nice to meet you," Jaune said, extending a hand that Weiss shook perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, "Jaune Arc. Welcome to Domremy." His voice was warm, his manner was friendly, but Blake could tell it was just that. Polite. Nothing more. There was a guardedness in his eyes that hadn't been there before Weiss had announced her name. Blake had seen that look countless times before - Faunus being cordial to humans they didn't trust but couldn't afford to offend.

Weiss, either not noticing or choosing to ignore the subtle shift, plowed ahead, "What you've built here is simply remarkable. I've never seen anything like it. The agricultural applications alone must be revolutionary."

"Thanks," Jaune said with a modest shrug, "It just sort of... happens. My Semblance kicked in about six months ago, and things took off from there."

"Six months? All of this in just six months?" Weiss looked genuinely impressed, "The efficiency is astounding. I can imagine how such abilities could transform industries across Remnant."

Blake suppressed a snort. Weiss wasn't being subtle about steering the conversation toward business applications, "I guess," Jaune said, rubbing the back of his neck, his dog ears twitching slightly, "I mostly just wanted to help my hometown. Make sure everyone had enough to eat, safe places to live, that kind of thing."

"Very commendable," Weiss nodded, "But surely you've considered the broader implications? Your abilities could help countless people beyond Domremy."

Jaune's smile remained fixed in place, "That's the hope."

The conversation continued in this vein for several minutes, with Weiss making increasingly transparent attempts to highlight how the SDC could be a vehicle for Jaune's gifts to reach a wider audience. She spoke of resources, distribution networks, and global impact. Jaune nodded politely throughout, occasionally glancing at Blake's exposed cat ears with what seemed like curiosity. But his answers remained noncommittal, his enthusiasm clearly dampened by the Schnee name attached to the proposals.

Weiss's hopes of having Jaune Arc assist her were doomed before they began, but the heiress still insisted on continuing, growing obviously frustrated by his lukewarm responses. When it became obvious that her subtle attempts to endear herself weren't working, Blake decided to step in. She moved forward, extending her hand with a genuine smile.

"I'm Blake Belladonna," she said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Jaune."

The change was immediate. Jaune's rigid stance relaxed slightly when he saw her ears up close, his smile becoming more natural as he shook her hand, "Another Faunus! Good to meet you too, Blake. Not many cat Faunus in these parts."

"I could say the same for dog Faunus at Beacon," she replied, "Though I usually keep these hidden." She twitched her ears for emphasis.

"I get that," he said, his own ears drooping slightly, "Used to try hiding mine too, when I was younger. Did it every time we left the village to go to the kingdoms. Got tired of it, though."

There was a story there, Blake could tell. One that probably mirrored her own in many ways, "Would you mind showing us more of what you've built?" Blake asked, "This farm is incredible. I've never seen anything like it"

"Sure!" Jaune said, his enthusiasm returning, "I've got a new irrigation system I just finished that's pretty cool."

They began walking, and Blake noticed with no small amount of satisfaction that Weiss had been effectively relegated to following behind them. The heiress' face was a carefully controlled mask, but Blake could see the frustration in her eyes. Weiss Schnee was not someone used to being upstaged.

As they walked, Blake offered genuine compliments, expressing genuine amazement at the ingenious designs Jaune had implemented throughout Domremy. Unlike Weiss's calculated flattery, Blake's admiration came naturally. What Jaune had created was truly remarkable - not for its profit potential, but for how it had improved people's lives. The fact that he was a Faunus made the praise come more easily, much as that was hard to admit.

"You've done amazing things here," she said as they examined a water purification system that could process thousands of gallons per hour, "Everyone seems so happy."

"That's the idea," Jaune replied, his chest puffing up slightly with pride, "No one goes hungry, everyone has good housing, and the defenses keep the Grimm out. It's what every settlement outside the kingdoms dreams of."

Blake nodded. Time to shoot her shot, "Speaking of settlements outside the kingdoms... have you ever been to Menagerie?"

Jaune's expression shifted, his lips curling down in a sympathetic frown, "Not personally, but my dad came from there before he met my mom and they had me and my sisters. He doesn't talk about it much, but when he does..." He shook his head, "Doesn't sound like an easy place to live. Has it gotten any better?"

Blake didn't even have to embellish, "No," she said softly, "If anything, it's worse. More Faunus arrive every year, fleeing discrimination in the kingdoms, but the habitable area hasn't changed. The buildings are cramped together so tightly that a single arsonist could take down half the town. And most of the island is still uninhabitable due to the harsh terrain and dangerous Grimm." The Kingdoms knew exactly what they were doing when they gave the Faunus the island generations ago.

Jaune's ears drooped further, "That's... That's not right. All those people, crowded into such a small area?"

"It's all we have," Blake said, conscious of her use of 'we' but no longer caring to hide it, "The humans gave us an island where only a fraction of the land is actually livable, called it 'compensation' for years of mistreatment, and expected us to be grateful."

"My dad never seemed grateful," Jaune said with a humorless laugh, "Just said it was better than the alternative at the time."

Blake nodded, sensing an opening, "I've been thinking - hoping, really - that someone with your abilities might be able to help. The infrastructure in Menagerie is barely holding together, and the defenses against Grimm are minimal. With your help, it could become a true home for Faunus. A place we could be proud of." Past Jaune, she could see Weiss gnashing her teeth together. If Blake were a pettier person, she would've smirked.

Jaune was quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. Behind them, Weiss had gone very still, listening intently, "I'd like to see it," he said finally, "Menagerie, I mean. Dad's told me stories, but I should see it for myself. Maybe there's something I could do."

Blake felt a surge of hope, "Would you want to visit? I could arrange it." It would mean seeing her parents again, but she'd suck up any shame she felt for this.

"Yeah," Jaune nodded, his expression resolute, "I wanna see it."

---

James Ironwood stood at the floor-to-ceiling window of his office, gazing out at the gleaming spires of Atlas as they floated majestically above the industrial sprawl of Mantle below. The cityscape, usually a source of pride, failed to lift his spirits tonight. The tumbler of whiskey in his left hand - his flesh and blood hand - caught the light as he swirled the amber liquid thoughtfully.

The intelligence reports were spread across his desk behind him. He'd read them three times already, each review only deepening the furrow in his brow.

"Disconcerting" was perhaps too mild a term.

Atlas and Mistral had always maintained surveillance on Menagerie, as had Vale to a lesser extent. It was standard procedure when dealing with a territory that housed a significant portion of the White Fang's sympathizers and recruitment base. James had never particularly liked the necessity, but security concerns trumped personal discomfort. It hadn't been only his body that he'd sacrificed for the sake of the greater good, and it wouldn't be the last.

He took a slow sip of whiskey, feeling the burn trace a path down his throat.

If he was honest with himself - and James prided himself on his honesty, even in private moments - he had never approved of Menagerie's state. The so-called "Faunus homeland" had always seemed more like a reservation than a gift. A place to contain rather than empower.

Not that his opinion on the matter carried much weight. As the General of the Atlesian military and Headmaster of Atlas Academy, he was, alongside Jacques Schnee, one of the faces of what many Faunus considered systemic oppression. Anything he might say now about Menagerie's conditions would be dismissed as empty, meaningless platitudes. Too little, too late.

The whiskey glass clinked against the window sill as he set it down, his attention drawn back to the reports. Menagerie was changing. Rapidly. The ramshackle collection of huts, shacks, and the occasional cabin had transformed into something else entirely over the past three months. The images from their surveillance drones showed new buildings rising at an impossible rate. Not just any buildings - structures that rivaled Atlas's own architectural achievements in both beauty and apparent functionality.

The previously overcrowded coastline had expanded inward, pushing back the boundaries of what had once been considered uninhabitable terrain. Where once there had been dangerous wilderness, there were now orderly streets, defensive walls, agricultural fields, and even what appeared to be industrial complexes.

Jaune Arc and his "Knights" - the autonomous golems he created through his extraordinary Semblance - were systematically terraforming the harsh landscape and eliminating the Grimm that had made so much of the island deadly to settlers. Areas that had been considered lost causes for generations were now being reclaimed at a pace that seemed to accelerate with each passing week.

The glass creaked under James's tightening grip as he picked it up again. Arc had publicly disavowed the White Fang, making formal announcements that he was working for the benefit of all Faunus, not for extremists. He'd even helped apprehend several White Fang operatives who had attempted to sabotage his efforts or divert resources. He'd claimed that while he understood their desire to be seen as equal, he refused to support or even imply he approved of their actions.

It should have been reassuring. It wasn't.

Atlas had grown comfortable with its position as Remnant's most technologically advanced and militarily powerful kingdom, a status it had maintained for nearly a century. That position granted them security, influence, and control. All things that James considered essential for humanity's continued survival against the Grimm.

And yet, in just three months, a single Dog Faunus with an anomalous Semblance had begun to close that gap. The rate of advancement in Menagerie was unprecedented. New defensive systems, infrastructure, even what appeared to be research facilities. All created by one man who treated miracles as parlor tricks.

The question that kept James awake at night was simple but haunting: what would Menagerie look like in three years? In five? A fully developed kingdom, perhaps more advanced than Atlas itself, populated almost entirely by a race that half of Remnant's kingdoms had spent generations treating as subhuman and second-class.

The implications were... troubling.

James drained the last of his whiskey, setting the empty glass down with a decisive click. He straightened his tie collar, a habit from his younger days before half his body was replaced with machinery. Things were going to get worse before they got better. Political tensions, resource competition, shifting alliances - all were inevitable consequences of the rapid rise of a new power on Remnant. The balance that had maintained a tenuous peace between the four kingdoms was already showing signs of strain.

He would need to prepare Atlas for whatever came next. And beyond that, he would need to make contact with Arc. Not as an adversary, but as a potential ally. The alternative was unthinkable.

The political ramifications alone were enough to give him a migraine. The Council was in a state of near panic, bombarding him with demands for action, for contingency plans, for intelligence on Arc's capabilities. Jacques Schnee had been calling daily, his thinly veiled threats becoming less veiled with each conversation.

"Sir?" Specialist Schnee's voice cut through his thoughts as she entered his office after a crisp knock, "The Council is assembling for an emergency session in thirty minutes. They're requesting your presence."

"Thank you, Winter," he replied, not turning from the window, "I'll be there." He heard her hesitate, which was unusual for his normally decisive Specialist, "Something on your mind, Schnee?"

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Granted."

"Jacques has been making... overtures to certain Council members. He's pushing for military intervention in Menagerie under the guise of 'security concerns.'" James wasn't surprised. Of course Jacques would be the first to call for action. The SDC's monopoly on Dust was under direct threat for the first time in decades. While there was no proof that Arc was mining Dust, the machinery and infastructure he was building didn't seem to need it. If Menagerie were ever to start expanding...

"And what's your assessment of the situation, Specialist?" he asked, finally turning to face her.

Winter's face remained impassive, but he could see the conflict in her eyes, "From a purely military standpoint, sir, Menagerie poses no direct threat to Atlas at this time. Their defenses appear to be largely focused on Grimm, not on repelling kingdom forces. However..." She paused, "The rate of advancement is concerning. If it continues at the current pace, the balance of power in Remnant could shift significantly."

"And from a non-military standpoint?"

This time, Winter's composure cracked slightly, "I believe any aggressive action against Menagerie would be... morally questionable at best, sir. They're simply improving their quality of life, not threatening other kingdoms. Justifying military action would be possible, but other kingdoms could see it as needlessly aggressive and overreaching."

Ironwood nodded, surprised but pleased by her candor, "Thank you for your honesty, Winter. Dismissed."

After she left, James turned back to the view, downing the last of his whiskey in one swift motion. The intelligence reports had included photos - aerial shots of new buildings rising, farmland expanding, walls being constructed. But the images that had stuck with him most were of the Faunus themselves. Children playing in parks that hadn't existed three months ago. Families moving into sturdy homes with electricity and running water. People who had lived their entire lives in overcrowded conditions now having space to breathe, to live with dignity. It was difficult to frame that as a threat, no matter how the Council might try.

And yet... the world was changing too fast. Power structures that had stood for generations were being upended in a matter of months. That kind of rapid change bred fear, and fear bred conflict.

James sighed. Things were going to get worse before they got better. Much worse.

The question was whether Atlas would be on the right side of history when the dust settled.

---

The map of Menagerie spread before her on the table looked nothing like the one she'd memorized years ago. Sienna Khan traced a finger along the new settlements expanding into what had once been uninhabitable territory, her golden eyes narrowing with each inch her finger traversed, "Three months," she said, unable to fully mask the mix of awe and fury in her voice, "He's transformed half the island in just three months."

Across from her, Adam slammed his fist onto the table, causing the map to jump. His Grimm mask couldn't hide the tension in his jaw or the way his entire body seemed to vibrate with barely contained rage, "He's a traitor to his own kind," Adam snarled, "A Faunus with power like that - power that could finally bring the humans to their knees - and what does he do? He builds houses and farms. He plays at being a savior while our brothers and sisters continue to suffer in the mines and factories of Atlas."

Sienna didn't disagree, but she maintained her composure. As High Leader of the White Fang, she couldn't afford to display the same unbridled fury as her subordinates, no matter how justified. Control was power, and she never relinquished power willingly.

When they'd first heard rumors of Jaune Arc - a Dog Faunus capable of creating structures and materials at an impossible rate - Sienna had felt something she hadn't experienced in years: hope. Not the grim determination that had sustained her through years of fighting for Faunus rights, but genuine, bright hope. A Faunus with such abilities could change everything. He could arm their forces with weapons that would make Atlas's military look primitive. He could build them bases that no human army could breach. He could, at last, give them the advantage they needed to force humanity to acknowledge their equality.

But then came the news that Arc had publicly disavowed the White Fang. Worse, he had actively helped apprehend White Fang operatives who had attempted to appropriate some of his creations for their cause. She still remembered how shocked she'd been when she heard the news.

And now this. Menagerie, under Ghira Belladonna's weak leadership, had officially designated the White Fang as a terrorist organization. Any Faunus found supporting them would be treated as criminals, denied the benefits of Menagerie's rapid expansion and new prosperity.

"The people support him," she said, voicing the most bitter truth of all, "Our own people have turned against us."

"They're cowards and traitors," Adam growled, "Happy to forget who fought and bled for them all these years."

Sienna's right hand twitched, the only outward sign of her anger, "How quick they are to forget their gratitude," she said, bitterness seeping into her words despite her best efforts, "Five years we've been fighting - sacrificing our lives - to earn them the respect they deserve. And now they turn on us for a few new buildings and the promise of human 'acceptance'."

The White Fang had been the only ones willing to stand up and fight when peaceful protests achieved nothing. When Faunus were still being beaten in the streets of Mistral, denied service in Atlas, paid a fraction of what humans earned for the same work everywhere except Vacuo. The White Fang had struck back, showing humans that there was a price to be paid for such treatment. That they weren't animals to be stamped down on.

And yes, they had spilled blood, had destroyed property, had instilled fear. But it had been working. Slowly, painfully, but undeniably, their tactics had been forcing change. Businesses that discriminated against Faunus found their storefronts shattered. Politicians who pushed anti-Faunus legislation found their homes vandalized and themselves taken by those they abused. Military convoys transporting Faunus prisoners were ambushed and liberated.

Every victory bought with Faunus blood and courage... now being threatened by one dog-eared boy playing builder.

"Our attempts to sabotage his operations have all failed," Sienna said, gesturing to the reports scattered around the map, "His 'Knights' guard his work sites too effectively, and our scientists have made no progress in reverse-engineering any of his creations." It was frustrating beyond measure. They had obtained samples of his materials - weapons, armor, even fragments of buildings - but none of it made sense to their technicians. The materials themselves seemed to defy conventional analysis, as if they operated by different physical laws.

"I want him dead," Adam said, voice flat and cold, "Him and that Belladonna traitor by his side."

Sienna glanced up at the mention of Blake Belladonna. Adam's former protege - perhaps more than that - had been seen constantly at Arc's side these past months, reportedly acting as his guide and advisor on Faunus matters. The girl's defection had clearly become a personal wound for Adam, one that festered and poisoned his judgment.

"No," Sienna said firmly, "Killing him accomplishes nothing. His creations would remain, and he would become a martyr. The great Faunus innovator struck down by 'radical extremists'." She laced the last words with contempt, "It would only push more of our people away from our cause. They would see us as sabotaging our own race."

"Then what do you suggest, High Leader?" Adam asked, not entirely succeeding in keeping the insubordination from his tone.

Sienna stepped closer to the map, her eyes fixed on the location marked as Arc's primary residence - a newly constructed complex near the coast of Menagerie, "We take him," she said, "We show him the truth of what humans have done to our kind throughout history. We make him understand that his gifts belong to his people. His real people, not the humans who would use his abilities and then discard him when he's no longer useful or the the cowards who are content to hide under his skirt rather than fighting for their freedom."

Adam's posture shifted, interested but skeptical, "You think you can convert him to our cause?"

"I think a Faunus can be reminded of his true loyalties," Sienna replied, "And if persuasion fails..." Her lips curled up in a cold smile, "We have other methods. His power is too valuable to waste, even if the vessel that holds it is... misguided."

To refuse to aid the White Fang - to actively work against them - was nothing short of betrayal to their entire race. Arc needed to understand that. The White Fang wasn't just an organization; it was the only real hope for Faunus to achieve the respect and equality they deserved.

Peaceful cooperation had failed for decades. That approach had earned them nothing but empty promises and the "gift" of a barely habitable island where they could be conveniently forgotten. Only through strength, through fear, would humans ever truly see them as equals. The Faunus Revolution wasn't won by picketing and building farms, it was won through blood and sacrifice. By the bravery and strength of those who refused to be treated as animals to corral in a reservation.

Arc was squandering his gifts, building comfortable houses while their brothers and sisters still wore shock collars in Dust mines. He was a race traitor of the worst kind - one with the power to make a real difference, choosing instead to play by human rules.

"We'll need a plan," Adam said, already sounding more focused, "His security is significant, and the Belladonnas are watching for us."

"Then we'll be smarter than they expect," Sienna replied, "We find his weakness. Everyone has one."

She looked once more at the transformed map of Menagerie, imagining how different it could be - how different all of Remnant could be - if Arc's powers were directed toward proper goals. Not just building a comfortable ghetto for Faunus to live in, segregated from the rest of the world, but creating weapons and fortifications that would force humans to the negotiating table. Creating a world where Faunus could walk anywhere without fear, take any job they were qualified for, live wherever they chose.

A world where Faunus children wouldn't grow up learning to fear human cruelty.

"Begin preparations," she said, "I want our best operatives ready to move. We have one chance to do this right."

Adam nodded, a cruel smile forming on his lips, "And Blake?"

Sienna considered for a moment. The daughter of her predecessor was a complication, but not an insurmountable one,"If she stands in our way, she shares his fate. No one person - no matter their lineage or abilities - is more important than our cause."

She dismissed Adam with a wave, turning back to the maps and reports spread before her. Jaune Arc had changed the game. Now it was her move. If not Menagerie, then that little hamlet he first called home. The one where Humans and Faunus pretended to live in harmony.

Foolish. Jaune Arc was weak, willing to turn the other cheek and forgive and forget rather than leveraging his abilities for all they were worth. He could have ensured Faunus dominance, that the Humans received even a fraction of the pain and humiliation they inflicted, but he didn't. They would use his gifts better than he ever could.

---

The marble beneath Leonardo Lionheart's feet felt cold despite his thick-soled shoes. Mistral's council chambers had always been too cold for his liking. Deliberately so, he suspected. The chamber's tall ceilings and stone columns created an atmosphere of austere grandeur that was meant to intimidate, to remind everyone who entered of Mistral's ancient glory and power.

Leo shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the long table, his lion's tail curled tightly around him beneath his robes. He'd been Headmaster of Haven Academy for nearly twenty years, a position that automatically granted him a seat on Mistral's Council of Seven. A great honor, he was constantly reminded. A Faunus elevated to such a prestigious position. Wasn't that proof that Mistral was progressive, forward-thinking?

He knew better, of course. His position was largely symbolic, a convenient shield against accusations of the systemic discrimination that ran through Mistral's veins like an old poison. Ozpin had pulled strings to get him this position in the hopes that it would improve relations. The immortal fool was either blind or willfully ignorant if he truly believed that.

The six other council members were deep in discussion, voices echoing off the intricately decorated walls. The topic of the day was, unsurprisingly, Menagerie. More specifically, Jaune Arc, "The reports from our intelligence operatives are concerning," Councilor Moss said, adjusting his thin-framed glasses, "Three months ago, Menagerie was a backwater settlement with barely enough infrastructure to support its population. Now..." He gestured to the holographic display at the center of the table, showing aerial images of the rapidly expanding territory.

"Not just expanding," Councilor Thorne added. She was the Minister of Defense, and her sharp eyes missed nothing, "Advancing. Look at these defensive installations. Some of them rival our own coastal fortifications, and they were built in days, not years."

"It's the materials that concern me," said Councilor Wells, the youngest among them at thirty-five. He oversaw Mistral's considerable mining interests, "My engineers can't make sense of the samples we've managed to obtain. They're stronger than anything we can produce, and the Faunus is just... creating them out of raw materials."

Leo noticed how they referred to Jaune Arc as "the Faunus". Not by name, not as a person, but as a curiosity. A tool. A resource to be assessed and, if possible, acquired. His own presence at the table, the medallion of Haven Academy heavy around his neck, suddenly felt even more like a cruel joke than usual.

"What exactly do we know about him?" asked Councilor Drake, Minister of Intelligence, "Background, psychology, potential weaknesses?"

"Born and raised in a small village in Vale's territory," Moss replied, consulting his scroll, "Domremy. Dog Faunus, obviously. No formal combat training, though he's created those 'Knights' of his that apparently serve as effective bodyguards. His Semblance apparently manifested only recently; about nine months ago. Before that, there was nothing remarkable about him."

"And now he's turning that festering island into a proper kingdom," Councilor Vex snorted. He was the oldest among them, a relic of Mistral's more openly prejudiced past, "Giving those animals ideas above their station." Leo's nails dug into his palms beneath the table, but his face remained placid. He'd had decades of practice at hiding his reactions to such casual bigotry.

"The question is," said Councilor Hemlock, who had been silent until now, "What are we going to do about it?" As Prime Minister, his word carried the most weight in the council, though decisions ultimately required majority support.

"We should be reaching out to him," Drake suggested, "Offering incentives to bring his talents to Mistral instead. Imagine what he could do for our infrastructure, our military capabilities. With our foundation, we could surpass Vale and Atlas in a year."

"Before Atlas gets to him," Thorne agreed, "You know James Ironwood won't hesitate to make an offer."

"What could we possibly offer him that would outweigh what he's already doing?" Wells asked, "He's essentially becoming the architect of a new kingdom. What could tempt him away from that?"

Vex laughed, a harsh sound that grated on Leo's ears, "He's a Faunus. He should be grateful for the chance to serve his betters." The old man gestured dismissively, "We'll dangle some promises about reviewing the segregation laws, toss him a medal or two. That should be enough to get him wagging his tail and eager to work for us."

Leo felt a coldness that had nothing to do with the room's temperature. They were speaking this way with him sitting right there - a Faunus Headmaster, supposedly one of their equals. The casual contempt was breathtaking, even after all these years, "I'm not certain such an approach would be effective," he said, speaking for the first time. His voice was mild, careful, "Arc has already demonstrated a commitment to improving conditions for his people. Empty promises might not sway him."

Vex's eyes narrowed, as if just remembering Leo's presence, "Listen to our Faunus expert," he said with a smirk, "Tell us, Lionheart, what would convince one of your kind to abandon his little island paradise and serve Mistral instead?" He said the words, 'your kind', like an insult.

The question was a trap, as they all were. If he suggested something too beneficial to Faunus, he'd be accused of divided loyalties. If he suggested something demeaning, he'd be betraying his own people, "Perhaps genuine respect and fair terms," Leo said evenly, knowing even as he spoke that his words would fall on deaf ears, "Arc's accomplishments speak for themselves. Approaching him as an equal partner rather than a resource to be exploited might be more productive."

"An equal partner," Vex repeated, the words dripping with disdain, "Next you'll suggest we invite him to sit at this very table."

"That's enough, Vex," Hemlock said, though there was no real rebuke in his tone, "Lionheart raises a valid point about approach. We need to be strategic."

The discussion continued, with proposals ranging from diplomatic overtures to economic incentives to more... aggressive measures. No one suggested actually addressing the legitimate grievances of Faunus in Mistral territory. No one proposed real changes to the laws that kept Faunus as second-class citizens at best that might convince Jaune Arc to at least consider listening.

Leo sat in silence, offering only the occasional comment when directly addressed. Each moment in this chamber reminded him why he'd made the choice he had - why he'd accepted Salem's offer. It wasn't just fear, though there was plenty of that. It was also the bone-deep weariness of fighting a losing battle against people who saw him as inherently lesser, no matter his accomplishments.

He had been fighting all his life to prove his worth, to earn respect that should have been freely given. And for what? To sit at a table where his presence was barely tolerated and his voice ignored? To represent a kingdom that spoke of equality while practicing subjugation? What was there to save in Mistral that was worth saving when these six were the ones the people were happy to vote into office? Was he expected to sacrifice himself for those who would spit on his grave?

As the council continued their plotting, Leo's thoughts turned to Jaune Arc. Would they succeed in manipulating him? Would they break him as they had broken so many others? Or would he remain in Menagerie, continuing to build something that might, at last, offer Faunus a genuine home? Leo wasn't sure which outcome he hoped for anymore. All he knew was that when Salem's forces finally came for Mistral, a significant part of him would feel nothing but relief.

"Lionheart," Hemlock's voice cut through his thoughts, "You have connections with Ozpin. What's his position on this Menagerie situation?"

Leo straightened, the practiced lies coming easily now, "He's monitoring the situation closely, of course. I believe he's already had some contact with Arc, though I don't know the details of their discussion." He didn't actually know, of course, but sowing distrust was disgustingly simple.

"Of course he has," Vex muttered, "Always interfering where he doesn't belong."

"Find out what you can," Hemlock said, "We need to know if Vale is already making moves to secure the Faunus's loyalty."

"I'll do my best," Leo agreed, the words hollow in his mouth. He wouldn't even try. A petty little victory against this council of self-important racists.

As the meeting continued, Leo retreated further into himself, nodding and agreeing where expected. His thoughts were elsewhere. On the students at Haven who would soon become casualties in a war they didn't understand, on the people of Mistral who remained blissfully ignorant of what was coming. And, strangely, on Jaune Arc, a Faunus who had found a way to make a difference without compromising himself. Leo wondered what that must feel like.

---

The clockwork mechanisms of Beacon Tower clicked and whirred above Ozpin's head, a steady rhythm that had long ago become white noise to him. The passing of time - something that had once seemed so insignificant to someone of his... unique circumstances - now felt more pressing than it had in decades.

Ozpin took a measured sip from his mug of hot chocolate as he scrolled through the latest intelligence briefing on his scroll. The reports on Menagerie's transformation continued to astound him, even after three months of regular updates. He'd thought his ability to be surprised had dulled over the centuries, but Jaune Arc had proven him wrong in that regard.

The aerial photographs showed a settlement - no, a proper city now - expanding at a rate that defied conventional understanding. New districts, defensive installations, infrastructure networks, research facilities. All created by one young man with an extraordinary Semblance.

If it truly was just a Semblance. Ozpin had his doubts. In all his many lifetimes, he'd never encountered an ability quite like Arc's. The closest comparison might be the magic of humanity before the capricious Brothers commited mass genocide, but even they couldn't match the sheer scope and versatility of what the young Faunus was doing. The power reminded him of something the Brothers could do moreso than Semblance or even magic.

He set his scroll down, removing his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. The headache forming behind his eyes had little to do with the information itself and more to do with its implications.

Atlas, Mistral, even Vale's council - they would all be scrambling now, caught between panic at the rise of a Faunus-dominated power and greed for what Arc's abilities could do for them. James would be viewing this through a military lens, no doubt already calculating how Menagerie's advancements might shift the balance of power. Leonardo, his dear friend, would be caught in an impossible position between Mistral's endemic prejudices and his own Faunus heritage.

And Salem... she would certainly be aware of Arc by now. A person with his abilities would be a prime target for recruitment. Or elimination.

Ozpin needed to speak with the young man. Not for Vale, not for political advantage, but because of what was at stake in the shadow war that had raged for millennia. Arc needed to understand the true threat, to see the bigger picture beyond the immediate concerns of improving Menagerie.

That was easier said than done, however.

Even with his position as Headmaster of Beacon, he doubted Menagerie would simply welcome him and let him speak with their newfound savior. Relations between the island and the kingdoms had never been warm, and recent events had only widened the divide. Ghira Belladonna's government had become notably more assertive in its diplomatic communications, leveraging their new capabilities to demand respect rather than request it.

Vale was far less prejudiced than Mistral or Atlas, it was true. The kingdom prided itself on its more progressive attitudes toward Faunus. But Ozpin knew that the Faunus were far less willing to accept "not as racist as the others" as an excuse these days. They wanted - deserved - genuine equality, not comparative improvements. He took another sip of his drink, allowing himself a moment of regret for opportunities missed, for changes that had come too late. It was a familiar feeling, one he'd carried through countless lifetimes.

But dwelling on the past wouldn't solve the present dilemma. He needed to reach Arc, and for that, he needed an intermediary.

His gaze fell on his scroll, and he tapped the screen to bring up student records. Blake Belladonna's file appeared, complete with her official Beacon photo. The daughter of Menagerie's chieftain, former White Fang member (if his intelligence was correct), and, most importantly, Jaune Arc's apparent confidante.

It was well-known among the faculty that Ms. Belladonna had been spending a significant amount of time in Menagerie between her classes. Arc had apparently created a portal specifically for her use - a shortcut between Beacon and the island that allowed her to maintain her studies while still participating in Menagerie's transformation. Anyone else who attempted to use the portal found themselves unable to pass through, according to Professor Goodwitch's observations. Curious - and perhaps opportunistic - students had tried only to end up crashing into the shimmering portal like it was an impenetrable barrier.

Ozpin sent a brief message to Glynda, asking her to bring Ms. Belladonna to his office after her current class. Then he turned to the window, gazing out at the school grounds below. Students traversed the pathways between buildings, some hurrying to classes, others lounging in small groups beneath the trees. Human and Faunus alike, training to become the protectors of a world that didn't know the full extent of the threats it faced.

The elevator chimed exactly thirty minutes later, announcing Glynda's arrival with Ms. Belladonna. The young woman stepped into his office, amber eyes cautious behind her neutral expression. Now that her Faunus connection was open knowledge, she no longer wore the bow that masked her cat ears.

"Ms. Belladonna," Ozpin greeted her with a nod, "Thank you for coming. Please, take a seat."

She sat stiffly in the chair across from his desk, her posture betraying her wariness, "Professor Goodwitch said you wanted to speak with me."

"Indeed." Ozpin steepled his fingers, "I was hoping to discuss your friend, Mr. Arc."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, "What about him?"

"I'd like to arrange a meeting with him. There are matters of great importance that I believe he should be made aware of."

"Matters concerning Vale?" The suspicion in her voice was unmistakable.

"Matters concerning all of Remnant," Ozpin said gently, "Including Menagerie."

Blake's ears twitched, an obvious tell of her agitation, "Jaune is very busy with the reconstruction efforts. And he's... cautious about meeting with representatives from the kingdoms."

"Understandably so," Ozpin said, "I imagine he's received numerous overtures from various officials, all eager to... benefit from his abilities."

"That's one way of putting it," Blake said dryly.

Ozpin smiled, recognizing the diplomatic phrasing for what it was, "I want to assure you, Ms. Belladonna, that my interest in speaking with Mr. Arc is not about exploiting his talents for Vale's benefit. This is about the Huntsmen, about our shared mission to protect humanity - all of humanity, Human and Faunus alike - from the Grimm."

Blake regarded him silently for a long moment, her expression unreadable, "You'll forgive me if I'm skeptical, Headmaster. Jaune's already had people approach him claiming they only want to help, only to reveal ulterior motives."

"A healthy skepticism is valuable," Ozpin said, "Particularly in times of change. But I hope you know me well enough by now to understand that I hold the safety of my students, of all people, as my highest priority."

He saw the conflict in her eyes, the weighing of trust against caution. Blake Belladonna had not had an easy path to Beacon. Her background in the White Fang, her decision to leave it behind, her struggle to find a new way forward. All of it had shaped her into someone who measured her trust carefully. Had he been more rash (or more like James), he might've used her past in the White Fang as leverage, but he knew that would've been foolish. It would've only driven her away, and with her, any chance of Mr. Arc's trust.

"The Grimm are a threat to us all, Ms. Belladonna," he continued when she remained silent, "Regardless of species, regardless of kingdom, regardless of personal viewpoints. And I believe Mr. Arc deserves to understand the full scope of that threat."

Blake's posture shifted slightly, some of the tension leaving her shoulders, "I'll tell him," she finally said, "I'll let Jaune know that you want to speak with him. But I can't promise anything beyond that. It's his decision."

"That's all I ask," Ozpin said with a nod, "Thank you."

As Blake rose to leave, Ozpin found himself hoping that Arc would agree to the meeting. Not just for the sake of his ancient conflict with Salem, but because he genuinely believed the young Faunus deserved to know what he was potentially walking into. The world was changing rapidly, and Arc was at the center of that change.

Knowledge was power, but it was also protection. And in the coming days, Jaune Arc would need all the protection he could get.

Blake paused at the door, "Professor?"

"Yes, Ms. Belladonna?"

"Jaune isn't naive. He knows everyone wants something from him." Her amber eyes were steady as she looked back at him. "If you're not honest with him, he'll know. And I won't help you reach him a second time."

With that, she slipped out of the office, leaving Ozpin alone with his thoughts. He sighed and finished off the last of his sweet drink. The girl was right, of course. He would need to be more forthcoming with Arc than he typically was with potential allies. The young man's unique abilities and position made the usual half-truths and manipulations too risky. If he failed in this chance, then Jaune Arc's miraculous abilities would be forever lost.

The question was: how much of the truth could he safely share? The burden of knowledge had crushed many promising allies over the centuries. And yet, withholding too much might alienate potentially their most valuable asset in generations.

All he could do now was wait and hope that Arc would agree to meet. The rest would unfold as it always did – move by move, piece by piece, in a game where the stakes were nothing less than the future of every man, woman, and child on Remnant.

---

Uh-oh. Just three months and tension is already flaring. James is caught with the council and Jacques pressuring him, the White Fang are pissed, Leonardo's almost sympathetic, and Ozpin just wants the Salem problem dealt with without a care for the geopolitics. Meanwhile, Blake and the non-terrorist Faunus are making out like bandits.

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