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[RWBY] RWBY Shorts

*The Gods are summoned and Salem is defeated*

Ozpin: *closing his eyes* "At last...I...I can rest..."
God of Darkness: "Haha no, fuck that. Enjoy the next five thousand years of playing bodyjacker."
Ozpin: "...what."
God of Light: "Yeah, no, we're not doing this, Ozma."
Ozpin: "WHY?!"

God of Darkness/Light: "I see no Arkos/Lancaster here, how could you have fucked that up?!"
Darkness: "...You mean Arkos, don't you brother?"
Light: "You can't seriously deny that Lancaster is the natural conclusion-"
Darkness: "PYRRHA WAS DONE DIRTY, DAMMIT!"
Light: "LANCASTER IS FULL OF FLUFF AND SWEETNESS!"
Darkness: "LITTLE MISS MARTYR OVER THERE COULDN'T RAISE A PUPPY WITHOUT ABANDONING IT TO CRUSADE AGAINST THE FORCES OF EVIL!"
Light: "GUESS WHO DID MARTYR HERSELF? I BET WHAT'S LEFT OF HER'S BEING SNORTED BY SOME HOMELESS ADDICT!"

Ozpin: "I...what...you can't be serious-"
Darkness/Light: "Does it look like we're joking?"
Ozpin: "But...but...look, there's Miss Belladonna and Miss Xiao-Long hugging and kissing! Surely, that's proof of-"
Darkness: "By our horns, everyone knows Bumbleby is a statistic waiting to happen."
Light: "At least we got here before-"

Animal God: "Am I too late to argue for Knightshade?"
The Blacksmith: "Boys, what did I say about challenging the supremacy of White Knight?"
The Breaker/Aslan/YHVH: *sends visions of a surprised golden she-dragon being hauled over a knight's shoulder*
 
*The Gods are summoned and Salem is defeated*

Ozpin: *closing his eyes* "At last...I...I can rest..."
God of Darkness: "Haha no, fuck that. Enjoy the next five thousand years of playing bodyjacker."
Ozpin: "...what."
God of Light: "Yeah, no, we're not doing this, Ozma."
Ozpin: "WHY?!"

God of Darkness/Light: "I see no Arkos/Lancaster here, how could you have fucked that up?!"
Darkness: "...You mean Arkos, don't you brother?"
Light: "You can't seriously deny that Lancaster is the natural conclusion-"
Darkness: "PYRRHA WAS DONE DIRTY, DAMMIT!"
Light: "LANCASTER IS FULL OF FLUFF AND SWEETNESS!"
Darkness: "LITTLE MISS MARTYR OVER THERE COULDN'T RAISE A PUPPY WITHOUT ABANDONING IT TO CRUSADE AGAINST THE FORCES OF EVIL!"
Light: "GUESS WHO DID MARTYR HERSELF? I BET WHAT'S LEFT OF HER'S BEING SNORTED BY SOME HOMELESS ADDICT!"

Ozpin: "I...what...you can't be serious-"
Darkness/Light: "Does it look like we're joking?"
Ozpin: "But...but...look, there's Miss Belladonna and Miss Xiao-Long hugging and kissing! Surely, that's proof of-"
Darkness: "By our horns, everyone knows Bumbleby is a statistic waiting to happen."
Light: "At least we got here before-"

Animal God: "Am I too late to argue for Knightshade?"
The Blacksmith: "Boys, what did I say about challenging the supremacy of White Knight?"
The Breaker/Aslan/YHVH: *sends visions of a surprised golden she-dragon being hauled over a knight's shoulder*
Imagine The Gods as voices 'helping' there pick
GoD: Arkos
GoL: Lancaster
Blacksmith: WhiteKnight
Animal God: Knightshade
Breaker: Dragonslayer

Pyrrha Has Cinder Fall over as the Grimm Parasite That Is The TRUE Fall Maiden Jumps Ship Like a Symbiote And Suddenly Ruling The Grimm To Salem Horror

Ruby gets Sharingan level upgrades by the GoL and Maria a dream vision to go to Vale

Weiss gets a call from her mom who see's Jaune and ask if he' Nick son, one love sick regret filled speech later and Weiss is investing in the Himbo Stocks

Blake getting visions by her God to help Human Faunus relations... the kinky way

And Yang a biblically accurate angel meme or DxD Gabriel which ever is funnier


lvo2gsx2vtjg1.jpeg
 
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In the past, Edward Elric-Arc and his family are visiting the Arc Farm for dinner... At the same time Arturia Pendragon-Arc and her husband were visiting. Dinner goes well, for the most part, until...

Edward: "I don't see why you have to insist on swords when guns work just as well. Even better in many cases. You and your absurd Aura."

Arturia: "Please! You and Alphonse can't speak about absurd Aura levels with some of the things you pulled off."

Edward: "That is the product of years of study, practice, and efficiency! We're not barbarians slinging around our Auras willy-nilly!"

Arturia: "Oh, and I suppose I just wasted all my time studying combat, military tactics, and Aura control, hm?"

Alphonse: "Ed, come on, we're family..."

Nick: "Nana, please, not again..."

Edward: "Not now Al, I need to teach this hag a lesson..."

Arturia: "HA! Says the tiny shrimp who never broke five foot nothing?"

Al and Nick calmly usher everyone else out of the dining room.

The resulting explosion can be heard for miles.

Shirou is late getting back with ice cream, along with Mordred and Isabel. They see everyone eating outside while explosions go off in the house.

Shirou: "... She made a short joke didn't she?"

Mordred: "Ooooh! Let me get in on this-!"

Isabel: "NO."

Al: "Brother is still tetchy about that."

Isabel rolls up her sleeves and storms into her house.

Some violence later... Isabel is waving a sheathed sword at her grandmother and her great-uncle as they sit seiza in the wrecked dining room.

Isabel: "What kind of irresponsible nonsense is this?! You're both over a hundred years old, act your damn age! You have any idea what ideas you're giving your grandchildren?! Also, STOP WRECKING MY HOUSE!"

Nick smiles proudly. After all, his wife is strong enough to put some of the greatest warriors in history in their place

Arturia, looking to the side: "... The castle wouldn't have broken."

Shirou: coughs "Um, dearest, she was there for that spat you had with Cousin Astolfo."

Arturia looks blank.

Shirou: "The chandelier?"

Arturia: wince "Ah."

Ed: "Ha!"

Isabel: Glares at him "And I haven't forgotten my sixth birthday party, either."

Ed: Wince "That... That was obviously overblown in your memories! Tell her, Al!"

Al: "Brother, you blew up the greenhouse because you mistook the clown for an assassin."

Ed: "NOBODY TOLD ME THERE WOULD BE CLOWNS!"
Just rereading this and Ed had the perfect correct reactions to clowns
Also am I the only one who thinks if beacon had held out for a few days there would have been an army of Arc showing up to save them like the Rohirm in Return of the King?
 
A Simple Twist of Calamity: part 2 New
A Simple Twist of Calamity: part 2

The quiet of the empty training room was a balm after the suffocating concern. Team JNPR had just left, Pyrrha's hand lingering on his shoulder, Ren's quiet nod, Nora's uncharacteristically hushed tone. They'd bought it. They'd all bought the performance of the traumatized, lucky survivor. The heavy door hissed shut, sealing him in the sterile, white-lit space.

The tremor in Jaune's hands ceased instantly. The hollow, wounded look in his blue eyes drained away, leaving them flat and empty, like two chips of polished slate. The human warmth evaporated from his face, his features settling into an expression of serene, profound boredom. He pulled his scroll from his pocket, the movement smooth and unnaturally precise.

He tapped a contact saved under 'Cinder's Clown'. It connected after one ring. "Talk," came Roman Torchwick's voice, clipped and tense. There was no playful lilt, no theatrical annoyance. Just the clean, sharp tone of a subordinate reporting.

"The containment field is stable," Jaune said, his voice devoid of the usual hesitant tenor. It was a dry, rasping sound, like stones grinding slowly together. "No structural compromise to the persona. The Ozpin entity observed the event. Its reaction was within predicted parameters: confusion, suspicion, then forced rationalization. It is afraid, but it will choose to believe the lie. For now."

On the other end, in a dusty warehouse by the Vale docks, Roman Torchwick stood perfectly still. He wasn't lounging against a crate or twirling his cane. He stood at parade rest, his face a mask of rigid concentration. As Jaune spoke, a minute crackle, like settling gravel, whispered from his jawline. His gloved fingers, resting on Melodic Cudgel, were utterly motionless, not a single fidget or tap. He was listening with his whole being.

"The local irritant, the 'Cardin' unit, is neutralized," Jaune continued, a flicker of something like distaste in his stony tone. "The process was inefficient. A cascade of localized misfortune. A stumble, a falling decorative element, a maintenance drone on a sub-optimal path, a consumer-grade power source undergoing spontaneous gravitational collapse. Pathetic. It wasted more energy than it was worth, but the narrative of 'freak accident' is now cemented. The alternative, direct, visible force, would have been more wasteful still."

Roman absorbed this. His emerald eyes, usually alight with mockery, were dull, like moss on a long-shadowed rock. "Understood. The theatrics with the human girl, the 'Fall Maiden' script…?"
"Proceed as planned. Cinder Fall is a useful catalyst. She believes she is leveraging you, let her. Her ambition, her human rage, creates excellent noise and draws attention in useful directions. Utilize her until her structural integrity fails or her purpose is served. Then, we repurpose the materials."

"And the Silver-Eyed contingent? The 'Ruby Rose' unit?" A long, silent pause. In the training room, Jaune didn't blink. "An anomaly. A random crystallization of light. Beautiful, in its way. Like lightning striking a specific tree. It is not a threat. It is a weather pattern. We do not fight the weather, Roman. We wait for it to pass, or we use its erosion to our advantage. Continue to observe."

"Yes, sir." The call ended. Jaune lowered the scroll, his arm moving with a slow, deliberate gravity. The performance was over. The calculations were updated. The plan, measured in epochs, not semesters, continued its patient, grinding course.

A soft, sharp intake of breath. It wasn't from the scroll. Jaune turned his head, not with a human's quick jerk, but with the slow, inexorable pivot of a planetary body. His eyes, now fully the color of a stagnant quarry pool, fixed on the observation window of the training room control booth. A window that was supposed to be empty.

Pressed against the glass was the pale, horrified face of Velvet Scarlatina. Her long rabbit ears were pinned back in terror. One hand was clamped over her mouth, the other splayed against the window. She'd heard everything. Their eyes met. Velvet saw no surprise, no panic, no malice in Jaune's gaze. She saw only a profound, indifferent acknowledgment, like a mountain noting an ant upon its slope. Then, he took a single, calm step forward.

Velvet's survival instincts, honed by a lifetime of being bullied, screamed. She spun and bolted, her sneakers squeaking on the polished floor as she fled down the corridor. She had to find Coco. She had to tell someone. Jaune… he's not human. He's working with Torchwick. He killed Cardin on purpose!

The hallway was empty, lined with lockers and doors to other training rooms. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic, organic drum. She fumbled for her own scroll, her fingers slick with panic. Just get to the courtyard, get to the dorms, find Coco....

Ahead of her, a bank of student lockers, rocket-propelled for easy transport of gear, lined the wall. They were dormant, powered down, their hatches sealed. As Velvet ran past them, the locker at the very end of the row emitted a soft, internal 'click'.

Its status light flickered from red to green.
With a deafening 'WHUMP' of compressed air, the entire six-foot-tall, half-ton steel locker blasted off its mounting rails. It didn't malfunction slowly. It didn't wobble. It fired like a torpedo, straight down the center of the hallway, its polished metal surface reflecting Velvet's terrified, backward glance in a distorted blur.

To any observer, to any system diagnostic, it was a catastrophic, one-in-a-billion mechanical failure. A stuck valve, a crossed circuit, a perfect storm of faults. To Velvet, it was the hallway itself reaching out to crush her.

She screamed, a short, sharp sound cut off by the devastating impact. The locker hit her at hip level, folding her body around it with a sickening series of cracks. It didn't stop. It carried her broken form along, smearing a red trail down the sterile white wall for twenty feet before finally jamming to a halt against a structural beam, its nose crumpled.

The silence that followed was absolute, broken only by the faint hiss of escaping pressure from the locker's piston. Down the hall, the door to Training Room 3 hissed open. Jaune Arc walked out. He looked down the corridor at the scene of horrific, improbable accident. He saw the twisted metal, the still form of Velvet Scarlatina partially pinned beneath it.

He showed no reaction. His face was once again the picture of youthful, concerned confusion, but it was settling onto his features a fraction too slowly, like a mask being lowered after the performance had already ended. He took out his scroll again, not to call for help, but to observe. A notification blinked.' Aura Monitor Alert: Student 087-Velvet Scarlatina, Aura Depletion: Critical Physical Trauma. Vital Signs: Null.'

He deleted the notification. Then, he began to run, his face finally achieving the perfect pitch of panicked, grief-stricken horror. "HELP!" he cried, his voice echoing down the carnage-strewn hall. "SOMEONE, HELP! THERE'S BEEN A TERRIBLE ACCIDENT!"

In the control booth, the observation window where Velvet had stood moments before was empty. On the console, a single, hairline crack had appeared in the reinforced glass, radiating out from where her hand had pressed in fear. A flaw. A random imperfection. Nothing more.
 
Jaune Arc, Single Father 13 (Omake) New
The bullhead touched down hard on the cracked concrete outside the old textile mill, rotors still spinning as both teams piled out into the cold night air. Weapons drawn, faces set in grim determination—Ruby's silver eyes blazing, Yang's hair already flickering with restrained fire, Blake's shadow clones flickering at the edges of her Aura. Jaune led the charge, Crocea Mors unfolded, shield up, every step fueled by the kind of parental rage that could level mountains.

They breached the basement door in perfect sync: Weiss's glyphs boosting speed, Nora's hammer blowing the lock into scrap metal, Pyrrha's polarity yanking the hinges clean off.

"White Fang! Release the child or—" Ruby started, voice echoing dramatically.

They froze.

In the center of the dimly lit room, surrounded by a dozen very confused and very unconscious White Fang grunts (all sporting identical goose-egg bruises on their foreheads courtesy of what looked like a chair leg), sat Adam Taurus.

The feared revolutionary, the scarred swordsman, the man who'd once left Blake running for her life… was listening with rapt attention to a tiny blonde Faunus girl who was standing on a folding chair, hands on hips, ears flat with righteous indignation.

"—and carrots are just lies! They say they make you see in the dark but I ate THREE WHOLE ONES and I still tripped over my bunny in the night! Beans are honest! Beans make you strong AND give you magic toots!"

Adam, leader of the White Fang, terror of Vale, nodded slowly, expression deadly serious. "A compelling argument. The protein content alone—"

Mia jabbed a finger at him. "And they're green! Green is the best color for fighting bad guys!"

"An excellent point," Adam conceded, voice grave. "Though I've always been partial to red."

"That's because you haven't tried lima beans with ketchup!"

The teams stood in the doorway, weapons half-raised, mouths open.

Jaune's brain blue-screened. "…Mia?"

Mia whipped around, ears perking straight up. "PAPA!"

She leapt off the chair (Adam instinctively reached to spot her like a worried uncle at a playground) and sprinted across the room, slamming into Jaune's legs with enough force to stagger him. He dropped to his knees instantly, arms wrapping around her so tight she squeaked.

"Kitten—oh gods—are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

Mia pulled back, utterly unscathed except for a smudge of what looked like chocolate on her cheek. "They gave me cookies! And then Uncle Adam came and yelled at them for being dumb then hit them and then we talked about vegetables!"

Everyone slowly turned to look at Adam.

Adam cleared his throat, standing with as much dignity as a six-foot-something revolutionary could manage in such a situation.

Blake made a strangled noise. "Adam. What."

He shrugged, picking up Wilt and Blush but making no move to draw them. "This local cell grabbed the wrong child. They assumed Mia was your child, but I knew you were never pregnant. I came to… correct their misunderstanding." He glanced at Mia, something dangerously soft flickering behind the mask. "Found this one instead. She introduced herself very politely and then demanded to know my stance on legumes."

Yang lowered her gauntlets. "So you… debated vegetables with a four-year-old."

"She's very passionate," Adam said defensively.

Mia tugged Jaune's sleeve. "Papa, Uncle Adam says beans are better for fighting than carrots! He's smart!"

Jaune looked up slowly. "… Adam."

Adam met his eyes, something almost sheepish in the set of his shoulders. "So. You loved Katy Sith?"

Jaune's grip on Mia tightened protectively, but his voice stayed steady. "With all my heart."

"And this is your daughter?"

"Yes."

Adam nodded once, decisive. He gestured to Mia. "You're free to go."

The entire room: "…Huh?!"

Adam rolled his eyes behind the mask. "I'm a freedom fighter and terrorist, not a monster."

Blake stepped forward, incredulous. "You were fine with killing humans!"

"They were transporting Faunus slaves, Blake," Adam snapped, old bitterness flaring. "This is a good father with an innocent daughter. I'm not about to orphan her unless it would be suitably epic and dramatic."

Jaune blinked. "…Like a final duel over a matter of life and death as our philosophical views clash?"

Adam pointed at him. "Exactly."

"With like… a giant robot involved?" Jaune added, unable to help himself.

"Giant robots make everything better," Adam agreed fervently. "Especially philosophical arguments. Like Gundam Wing Zero."

Jaune's jaw dropped. "I loved that show."

"Same! The self-destruct sequence alone—"

Blake threw her hands up. "Why didn't you tell me?!"

Adam turned to her, genuinely offended. "I did! We watched the entire series! You just wrote a bunch of horny yaoi fanfics about Heero and Duo and completely ignored the deeper themes of pacifism and existential dread!"

"I DID NOT IGNORE—" Blake caught herself, face scarlet as Yang started cackling. "I appreciated the themes!"

"You titled one 'Zero Gravity Kisses'!"

"THAT WAS SYMBOLISM."

Mia tugged Jaune's sleeve again. "Papa, what's yaoi?"

Jaune stood, hoisting her onto his hip. "Something you're learning about in… twenty years. Maybe thirty. We'll negotiate."

Adam sheathed his sword with a sigh. "Look. The kid's fine. These idiots are unconscious and are hurting the cause, so they deserve to be in jail. I'm leaving. Try not to let her get kidnapped by morons again."

He started for the exit, paused, and looked back at Mia.

Mia waved cheerfully. "Bye Uncle Adam! Bring beans next time!"

Adam's shoulders shook once—like he was suppressing either laughter or tears—and he raised a hand in acknowledgment before vanishing up the stairs.

The teams stood in stunned silence.

Ruby was the first to speak. "…Did we just… recruit Adam Taurus as an uncle?"

Yang wiped a tear from her eye. "I think we did."

Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose. "This is the strangest hostage rescue in history."

Pyrrha smiled softly. "She really is unstoppable."

Jaune looked down at Mia, who was already yawning against his shoulder, utterly unfazed by the entire ordeal.

"Yeah," he murmured, kissing the top of her head. "She really is."
 
The Clipboard New
Teams RWBY, CMEN, and JNPR are assigned as part of a training exercise to take out some other teams (using monitors that say someone is 'dead' when they get hit by weapons with a training trigger device) in the Emerald Forest. They have located the camp of the OPFOR (Opposing Force) teams and are studying it from range.

Ruby: "I say we charge in and attack! Total surprise!"

Cinder: "We already lost team BRNZ. Save for May. A frontal attack would be devastating and lose us the match."

May: "S-Sorry...!"

Cinder: "I say we plant explosives nearby, detonate them, lure them to ground of our choosing and slaughter them all with Nikos as our vanguard!"

Weiss: "We're not fighting a real war!"

Nora: "I do like the slaughtering part though!"

Cinder: "It would be metaphorical! ... Mostly."

Mint: pouts

Jaune: "Frontal assault is out unless we can throw them into disarray, and we don't have enough time to lure them out like that..." He smiles "I've got an idea."

Weiss: "Oh, this should be rich..."

Ruby: "I say we hear him out!"

Cinder: "What is your plan, Arc?"

Later... An annoyed looking Jaune wearing some glasses and holding a clipboard storms up to the camp defenders.

Neptune: "Hey! If you're just gonna charge in, Arc, you gotta-!"

Jaune: "I don't have time for your crap, Vasilias! I need to talk to Cardin! He's gotta sign some urgent paperwork!"

Sun: "Paperwork? In the middle of an exercise-?"

Jaune: "That's what I said to Professor Goodwitch! But no, I gotta take time out of this thing and be a mail boy! So get me Cardin so he can sign this so I can get rid of this stupid thing already, got it?!"

Sun: "Sure, sure!"

Neptune: "Geez... Chill out, dude."

Jaune: "How chill would you be if you had to do some stupid crap like this?"

Neptune: "Eesh, good point. Come on, main tent."

They head in. Sun calls on Cardin, who comes out. He scowls.

Cardin: "The hell is this, Jauney boy?"

Jaune: "Bullshit, that's what! Just sign the damn paperwork so we can get back to it, huh?"

Cardin: "Any idea what it is?"

Jaune: "Like they'd tell me!"

Cardin: "Fine, fine..." He takes the clipboard, blinks "What... It's just permission slips for lunch allergy exemptions?! Why the hell would she want me to sign-?!"

Jaune stabs him with his sword. His alert rig beeps, turns red, says "YOU'RE DEAD."

Jaune turns and runs, as the rest of Team CRDL and SSSN, stunned, go after him.


Cardin: "What in the actual-?!"

Which is when May's sniper shots begin taking out team ABRN, and the rest of RWBY, JNPR and CMEN attack. The entire camp is soon overrun, and everyone is defeated. Jaune walks back with his team, grinning a bit at Cardin.

Jaune: "Hey Cardin... Hope you're not too sore?"

Cardin: "..." shakes his head and laughs "You crazy son of a bitch... I'll be honest, when I'm not so angry... I'll find it funny as hell."

Sun: "I find it funny now!"

Cardin: "Shut up, Monkey Boy!"
 
A simple twist of calamity part 3

The air in the Vale White Fang safehouse was thick with the smell of dust, rust, and simmering rage. In the central chamber, Adam Taurus stood before a map of Vale, Banesaw a silent shadow beside him.

Perry, the new logistics man, polished his glasses with a soft cloth. "A disgrace," he murmured, his voice a soothing, poisonous drip. "Velvet Scarlatina. A 'freak accident' with a locker, can you believe it?" Adam's grip tightened on Wilt. "Beacon covers its tracks."

"Of course," Perry sighed, his magnified eyes sorrowful. "But the timing... just as human sympathy wanes, a promising Faunus girl dies? It's a narrative, Adam. Written in her blood to justify keeping us down. They paint us as victims of chance to avoid painting themselves as villains."

Banesaw's saw growled. "We hit them, for her. We cant let this slight go!" "A direct assault?" Perry shook his head, his expression pained. "That's what they expect. It would be a slaughter, and they'd call it proof of our savagery. No...We must be the scalpel, not the hammer. We will use the chaos they themselves provide."

Adam turned, his mask boring into Perry. "Explain." "Torchwick and that witch Cinder Fall. They are thugs and schemers, playing at revolution. Let them, Let them crack Vale's shell, let them draw the Huntsmen's eyes. When they are spent, when Beacon is reeling from their chaos and these... 'unfortunate accidents'... that is when we strike. Not at the walls, but at the heart. For Velvet."

"And these tools? Torchwick? Cinder?" Adam's voice was a low growl. Perry's sad smile hardened at the edges, becoming something clean and cold. "When a tool breaks, or threatens the hand that wields it, it is discarded. They are disgusting humans. They are, in their entirety, disposable. The cause is all that matters."

Adam absorbed this, the cold logic seeping past his rage. He gave a single, slow nod, a new, calculating purpose settling over him. "I'll see to the wounded," Perry said, his voice slipping back into its familiar, weary kindness. "New medicine from a sympathetic chemist. Our people must be strong."

He moved into the barracks, a shadow of quiet competence. He tended to a fox Faunus's gash with a gentle, expert touch, applying a clear gel from an unmarked tube. "This new salve is much stronger. It'll prevent infection." "Thanks, Perry. You're a lifesaver." "No problem, we look after our own." He moved to a bear Faunus coughing from Dust-burnt lungs, handing him a cup of dark liquid. "For the cough. Drink it all." He dispensed medicine, changed dressings, offered quiet words. They trusted him. They drank what he gave them.

His rounds complete, he retreated to a windowless storage room at the warehouse's rear. The door clicked shut, sealing him in silence and dust. The change was instantaneous and absolute. The kindly slump vanished from his shoulders, replaced by a posture of neutral, ready efficiency. The empathetic light died in his eyes, leaving them flat and dark, like still water over stone. The face was the same, the tired lines, the faint stubble, but the person behind it was gone, shelved like a tool. This is the true Perry.

He drew a sleek, black communicator from within his jacket. It connected instantly. No greeting was needed. "Report," came the voice from the other end. It was Jaune Arc's voice, but stripped of all youth and hesitation, a dry, grinding whisper, the sound of stones shifting in a deep, dark place.

"The Adam Taurus unit is primed," Perry said, his own voice now a bland, efficient monotone. "The narrative of human systemic murder is implanted. He will leverage the Cinder Fall and Roman Torchwick disruptions as a catalyst for violent, attention-drawing conflict. His emotional volatility makes him optimal for this function."

A pause. On the other end, in a Beacon training room, the sound was of utter, patient stillness.
"The rank and file?" "The tailored neuro-active compounds are being administered. Loyalty induction, suppression of independent cognition, heightened out-group aggression. Effects are cumulative and irreversible after the third dose. Most are on their second, Compliance is soon to be total. They believe it is medicine. They even thank me for it."

"Good." The stone-voice held a note of cold, quiet satisfaction. "Their fervor will be our weapon. Their bodies, our resources. The plan proceeds. Vale will burn not for a Faunus future, but for our future. From the ashes, our dominion will be reasserted. Step by step, accident by accident, we reclaim what is ours." "Understood," Perry replied. "The White Fang will be the torch. We will be the architects of the new foundation."

The line went dead. Perry stood in the dusty silence for a moment longer, a statue of perfect, inhuman neutrality. Then, he took a slow, deliberate breath. The flat emptiness in his eyes softened, warming with a practiced, weary concern. The rigid efficiency of his posture relaxed into the familiar, gentle slouch. He became the fake Perry again, the persona settling over him like a well-worn coat, each thread of simulated kindness pulled back into place.

He opened the door and stepped back into the dim light. The fox Faunus girl waved, her bandaged arm held carefully. "Feeling better already, Perry!" He gave her a warm, tired smile, the perfect picture of gentle dedication. "I'm so glad to hear it," he said, his voice soft with genuine-seeming care. "We all need to be strong. The fight is just beginning."
 

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