Two Wrongs Make a Right Ch.46 Revelations Pt.2 (Patreon)

I recovered after a while from the initial shock of the crushing scale of everything Ozma revealed. Probably the Company's mind defense or stress defense kicking in, preventing a psychological breakdown. It was simply such a massive, paradigm-shattering revelation that my mind needed time to process and properly compartmentalize the information without spiraling into despair. Talents or not I wasn’t an omnipotent higher being or anything of the sort… yet.

So now I'm sitting here in a simple wooden chair, listening to more details about Ozpin's past and his various lives along with the failures, each one bleeding into the next in a depressing, repetitive cycle of good intentions and terrible outcomes.

That man couldn’t catch a breath.

But they weren’t that important at the moment.

I just sigh heavily and raise a hand, cutting him off mid-sentence about some conflict between the families in Mistral decades ago.

I decide to bring up the biggest issue, the one that matters most to me personally.

“My father.”

If Ozma knew about him. If he understood what Ghira Belladonna truly represented.

The ancient man’s expression immediately shifts to something profoundly melancholic across his weathered features. "Your father, Ghira Belladonna; yes, I knew him quite well personally. I held him in the highest esteem for his remarkable initiative and natural charisma, for being such a true visionary not only for his own people but for humans as well. His ability to bridge divides, to make people believe in the possibility of change..."

He pauses and adopts a different posture. "It reminded me of my own younger days, when I still believed that change was possible through pure conviction and righteous might alone, before centuries of constant failures taught me otherwise."

I clench a hand into a fist. "What did I tell you earlier about buttering me up like that? It's insulting to my father's memory." My voice comes out considerably harder than I intended. From Hanzo and others, that kind of sincere praise felt... okay, earned even, genuine respect from equals. 

But from Ozpin's mouth? It feels irritating. Hollow. Because I know he's trying to manipulate me through my grief.

Ozpin sighs deeply before pushing his glasses. "How can I not praise a man like Ghira Belladonna? To do anything less would be a disservice and would only disrespect his memory and everything he accomplished against impossible odds. He was extraordinary, Adam. That's not flattery or manipulation; it's the simple, honest truth that anyone who knew him would confirm."

I let out my own weary sigh, my shoulders sagging because this whole thing was draining me faster and faster. "I know what you're trying to say, Ozpin. I understand your intent behind the words. But please... just don't do it. Don't use my father's memory as a rhetorical tool in this conversation. Please."

It just feels wrong with him.

"Very well, Adam." Ozpin inclines his head in acknowledgment. Then he takes a deep breath. "Yes, as you may already suspect, I supported many of Ghira's projects and progressive endeavors both financially and politically. You could accurately call me one of his biggest sponsors and backers, sometimes publicly through official channels and documented donations, other times in secret through intermediaries and carefully constructed shell organizations to avoid backlash from political opponents."

I just stare at the man because that revelation makes so much sudden, perfect sense. It explains the considerable political influence my father used to wield in Vale before everything went to shit. Because one simply cannot achieve that level of political success without substantial help from powerful allies; charisma and leadership can only take you so far in politics after all.

"I can see that now," I reply.  "Otherwise none of those progressive laws or ambitious reform initiatives would have been able to pass official approval through Vale's notoriously conservative council. Yet..."

I gesture broadly at everything around us. "What the fuck is all of this, Ozma? How did it all fall apart so bad? What took decades of work was lost in just a few years."

I lean forward. "Where can I even start with this? What about the glaringly obvious racial issues I've witnessed so far in my life in this city, especially in this very academy that was supposed to be the pinnacle of my father's vision; the place where Ghira did his absolute best to pave the road of this so-called equality?"

My fists clench. "The Faunus students are systematically segregated to a poorly maintained building with objectively less than decent installations and deliberately subpar amenities. They aren’t given much if any proper education besides servitude. And the reason they don't actively look for better treatment or organize protests? Because they're being pumped full of sedative drugs through their food! Or not even being subtle about it with those happy pills! Not only that, but they're treated as nothing more than convenient servants, practically slaves if the human teams decide to. An authority structure given and enforced by you nonetheless!"

I stand up, my anger building up in my stomach. "And it's not just here at Beacon. Throughout Vale, there are laws; maybe not as brutal as Atlas's, but still wrong on so many levels. Segregated public facilities. 'Faunus-only' places. Separate entrances to public buildings. Entire neighborhoods where Faunus legally cannot purchase property or rent housing or even enter. Hell, you have a mega-block for faunus only as if you didn’t even want to be subtle about it."

"Poll taxes and literacy tests designed specifically to prevent Faunus from gaining any benefits or barring them from any sort of election, which surprises me that you still hold elections. Even at the airport has segregation zones for fuck’s sake, anyone who breaks these rules get arrested on the spot."

I stop and face him directly. "It's not as overtly violent as Atlas's system, not as brutally enforced, but it's still a solid structure of oppression designed to keep Faunus as second-class citizens in every aspect of life. It’s like you all are begging the Grimm to come to eat us!"

All of this information comes from Nines' regular, detailed reports and my own observations during my time in Vale, as limited as those were.

"I remember that integration initiative, Ozma. I remember how my father talked about it with such pride and hope back at home, especially emphasizing that he had YOUR personal approval and full support. He believed in you. He trusted you. So What. The. Fuck. Happened?"

Ozma looks down at the floor, unable to meet my eyes. He rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably for a long while before he finally gathers his courage to look up at me.

"You have to believe me when I said the project was progressing perfectly, Adam. Better than I had honestly hoped or expected, given the political climate," he pauses for a moment. "The estimate by then was that by the following year we would be able to fully integrate Faunus as full-fledged Hunters, the first step to root out all the discrimination. Ghira had built plenty of solid support from progressive council members and influential citizens who genuinely believed in this dream or at least had an utilitarian view. Obviously there was significant, vocal opposition; how couldn't there be when challenging something so staunchly rooted in society's beliefs and established power structures?"

He pauses again, choosing his words carefully. "But I believe that even a small change is always enough to create a snowball effect. I thought it was one crucial step towards true unity between our peoples, a foundation we could build on for generations."

He pauses again, and exhaustion seems to settle over him like a heavy cloak. "But then came the terrorist attack at one of the conferences."

"Correct."

"That first attack… even though it wasn't able to kill Ghira directly as was likely intended, it injured both of you badly, especially you who lost an arm and we had to spend enormous resources to provide you with a new prosthetic arm. But more importantly, it accomplished its true objective; sending a message of violence and fear to anyone who supported this dream."

He takes a breath. "Many people believed that was the end of it, that the terrorists had failed their primary objective through the combined defensive efforts of the White Fang and Vale's security forces. But no, that attack was never really meant to cut off the head of the Faunus movement."

I frown.

"That attack was specifically and carefully designed to purge the human sympathizers and allies from the movement," Ozpin states. "As you may have already suspected from analyzing the casualty count and victim profiles. So many good men and women died at the hands of these radical extremists, many of whom were my trusted personal allies, people who had shared both sadness and joy with me over years of friendship, people I considered friends."

His hands clench into fists. "With a single coordinated attack, all of that carefully built political coalition was wiped out and quickly replaced by hardline opposition from those who saw it as definitive proof that Faunus equality was dangerous, that integration led to violence. Even though the attack targeted humans who supported equality, the narrative was twisted to blame Faunus for the violence. And I was clearly a target as well, but my strength, despite being significantly weaker, allowed me to protect myself in time."

"And then…" 

"And then these same bastards succeeded in assassinating your father," Ozpin finishes quietly. "And the combined dream collapsed. You know what happened on your side of things. But from my side? The political coalition fell apart immediately. The reforms we'd fought for were rolled back. Everything Ghira had built so carefully crumbled without his leadership and without the human allies who had died supporting his vision."

I feel a pit in my stomach starting to boil with rage, but I force myself not to voice it immediately. "I exterminated every single member of that terrorist group," I state coldly. "Made absolutely sure of it, no matter the cost or how long it took. Hunted them down one by one across continents until none remained breathing anywhere in Remnant."

I razed buildings just to make sure nobody was left alive. Let it get bombarded, anything to make sure nobody could ever be alive. Something that Blake saw and rejected the extreme violence I brought upon those bastards.

"And who do you think provided the critical whereabouts of their hidden bases?" The ancient man asks. "Who gave you the intelligence to set the trail to follow? Their recruitment centers, the training facilities, the safe houses scattered across kingdoms, the financial backers laundering money through legitimate businesses? Their families… who pointed you in their direction?"

I narrow my eyes dangerously, leaning forward. "Are you implying that you've been secretly feeding intelligence information to Sienna? Using the White Fang as your killers?"

Sienna was the interim leader by then, struggling to hold everything together. But she would have told me if she was receiving intelligence from Ozpin, especially now.

"No," the old man says firmly, shaking his head. "I never contacted anyone in the White Fang leadership besides Ghira himself. I never spoke with Sienna, never reached out to Kali after his death despite wanting to offer condolences, never attempted to manipulate or infiltrate your organization during that vulnerable time."

Was that a lie or a truth?

He meets my eyes directly. "The information I had was provided through carefully arranged dead drops and anonymous tips that couldn't be traced back to me. I wanted them gone but I couldn’t have any relation from that purge, it would have damaged my already shaky reputation."

I scrutinize the man's expression, searching for any hint of deception or manipulation in his weathered features. But I can't find any obvious fault in his expression or body language, no telltale signs of lying.

So he's either telling the truth, or he's practiced this particular lie so thoroughly over his many centuries that it's become completely indistinguishable from honesty.

I want to believe the second is the reality but I want to extend some trust to this man, for now

The wizard takes a deep, shuddering breath before continuing. "After the first assassination attempt it took months to heal even with Aura. My political enemies began plotting and working systematically to dismantle the academy's initiative. They moved too fast and when I tried, it was already too late."

He gestures helplessly with one hand. "Since I was still technically the director of Beacon, they couldn't remove the program completely nor remove me from my position because it would cause a lot of backlash due the Academy and the government can’t ever merge, especially Atlas enforces this international rule. But they corrupted it methodically instead, twisted it into something completely unrecognizable from the original vision. With so little remaining political backing after losing all of my closest friends and most powerful allies in the attack, it became an impossibly fine line I had to thread just to keep the program alive in any form. And yes I considered assassination multiple times but I simply don’t have the connections anymore to set up the perfect assassination."

His voice becomes bitter with self-recrimination. "Every move I made to protect it, they had three counter-moves to undermine it. Every compromise I accepted to save something, they used as leverage to take more. And that's how we ended up with the bearer system you currently see and rightfully condemn. Not the dream we envisioned, but a hollow mockery of it."

It's hard to imagine that Ozma, with all his accumulated experience over the centuries, could be outmaneuvered like that. But being forcibly out of the game for so long between reincarnations probably does that to somebody; after all society changes drastically and he had to spend who knows how long to adapt to the new society.

"So it was just weakness," I state flatly, my voice cold and unforgiving. "Political strength or personal strength; you were weak in both cases and couldn't do anything but be trampled by your enemies."

No point in sugarcoating it.

Ozpin flinches visibly at my words. "Yes. That's... that's exactly what happened. I was weak when it mattered most, when people were counting on me. And I remain weak now, unable to fix what was broken."

He pauses, rubbing his chin before sighing in profound defeat. "I'm also deeply ashamed to admit this, but I'm genuinely terrified of dying again. Of closing my eyes and waking up to a completely different world centuries later, finding out that everything I achieved has been destroyed once more. That fear of losing more time, more progress, more of me... it paralyzes me sometimes. Makes me too cautious when I should be bold."

After that explanation I take a moment to think about Ozpin’s situation once more, turning it over in my mind from different angles. And it leads to the conclusion that the Ozpin of this present timeline is very weak in almost every aspect.

It must have been pure luck or extremely careful political maneuvering over decades to still maintain a position of power like being headmaster of a prestigious Hunter academy—one of the few remaining influential places where he can shape and influence the next generation so they might...

Wait a minute.

"Where are the Relics?"

Ozpin remains silent, his lips pressed into a thin, tense line before he shrugs helplessly. "I don't know. When I lost my kingdom during one of those extended absences, they disappeared. The only one I know about with absolute certainty is the Relic of Creation, which is currently secured somewhere in Atlas."

He spreads his hands in a gesture of complete defeat. "But the rest? The Relics of Knowledge, Choice, and Destruction? I genuinely don't know where they are, who might possess them, or even if they are still on this continent. Best-case scenario is that they're buried inside some underground ruins, or deep under the sea."

I feel my eyes narrow dangerously. "Wasn't your entire original idea of the Huntsman academies to create them as fortresses designed to protect and guard the Relics? To keep them secure and separated across the kingdoms so no one could gather them? Especially Salem?"

I know this is drawing on meta-knowledge that I technically shouldn't possess, but that doesn't matter at this moment.

Ozpin looks surprised at first. "Yes, that was the original plan for the academies. But with my long absence, the academy plan continued and developed without my direct oversight, but not as fortified vaults to protect divine artifacts. They became educational institutions foremost, and the security aspect was... gradually lost or forgotten as priorities shifted. Especially that there was no object to protect."

"And the Maidens?" I press, already dreading the answer. 

He looks even more defeated. "I don't know any of them, where they might currently live, or what they're doing with their inherited powers. I'm completely in the dark about their identities or locations. The mystical connection I once had to track them and guide them was lost generations ago."

This is… bad in so many ways. 

Ozpin was weak in the original timeline from what knowledge I could remember; but still had substantial support networks and an extensive circle of trusted allies across Remnant built over centuries and he could stand his ground in a fight. Here, in this divergent version of events, he's practically all alone, stripped of resources and support.

I just think and think, trying to figure out what to do now, how to proceed from this point. But this entire situation is utterly fucked up beyond simple solutions.

I look at Ozpin again, really look at him with fresh eyes.

Yes, Ozpin was directly responsible for this disaster through his failures. Yes, he was at fault for catastrophic mistakes that led to immense suffering for my people. However, this close I can see that he's almost a decrepit man now, physically supported by a cane and having visible trouble breathing properly. That's not even counting the many deep wrinkles carved into his face and the dark bags under his perpetually tired eyes.

Nines probably didn’t mention these details because it wasn’t important enough,

But... it wasn't entirely because of his choices or incompetence.

I know it was the Company deliberately messing with world events, extending his reincarnation cycle, creating these massive gaps where corruption and oppression could flourish unchecked, maybe even guided these wrong leaders. Causing this divergent timeline just to satisfy the stupid modifiers I selected without thinking.

Just like I accepted a long time ago, this world is my fault too.

All because it was supposed to be nothing but a stupid game..

Fuck.

I simply walk away from the man and look up toward the ceiling, needing to be alone with my thoughts for a moment.

I try to think rationally about how to solve this messy puzzle, what I could even realistically accomplish with what I have at my disposal.

Throw myself into the PvP matches until I accumulate all the credits I need so I can purchase weapons so I can nuke Atlas off the map?

Yeah, I could technically win by turning Atlas into a smoking radioactive crater. It is safe to assume they don’t have nuclear defenses. Though, I would need to earn a lot of credits, but it's theoretically possible with enough time and effort. A loan even.

But then... I would doom most of Remnant immediately after that.

Because if Ozpin is right—and I have every reason to believe he is—Atlas is the main military force currently keeping the vast majority of Grimm at bay through their eternal siege. If I annihilated them, all those millions or possibly billions of Grimm would simply redirect to other population centers and attack there with unprecedented, overwhelming numbers.

And I wasn’t even counting the hundreds of millions I would have killed and the more millions and unborn millions because that amount of nukes might cause a nuclear winter.

And with the corporations still running rampant across the other kingdoms, with their exploitative systems generating massive negativity everywhere...

Yeah, no. Not even Menagerie would survive that apocalyptic onslaught, at least not in its current state. And I absolutely don't want to plunge the entire world into eternal radioactive darkness and despair either, condemning millions of innocent people to horrific death. Not just humans would suffer; my people would be destroyed too.

But I will fight Atlas, when I can equalize the battlefield just need to find the equalizer. Hell, I have already fought them but those are nothing against the true war machine they are.

So that leaves one thing…

I need more allies. 

Allies who can share my views or at least with goals that align. Because I want a new society. I want to bring Ghira's vision to life and create a better world for everyone, not raze everything to the ground in pointless destruction. But my way, force when force is necessary and words when words can be exchanged. 

Hanzo and Lil Miss Malachite are examples of this.

My mind turns to another part.

My people look up to me with hope, especially those returning from far-away lands. Families who trusted me enough to leave everything behind and come to Menagerie. Children who deserve better than the world we inherited. And now see the future with light in their eyes back at home and can play maintaining their innocence.

Or how everyone cheered when I returned after slaying the behemoth against all odds.

The clans swearing fealty, even going as far as giving up their lives because they trusted me.

Just like the liberated workers from Ironveil once they arrived at Menagerie. The light slowly returned to their eyes as they finally understood they weren’t dreaming but facing the reality of freedom. And the many others we rescued.

What about Ilia? Who's stood by me through everything good and bad, now my girlfriend who I cherish deeply. Especially that she knows about my secret. 

About Kali, whose love never faded. And supports me despite the fact that I have hurt her in the past, which I regret deeply. 

And Sienna...

I don't want my child and future children to grow up trapped in the pocket dimension forever, isolated from the world and reality, because there's no safe world left to explore anymore. I don't want them to inherit a world of ashes and Grimm, where the only safety is hiding in a different dimension.

I want them to have what I never did; a world where they can walk freely without fear, where their differences don’t go through persecution. Where they can choose their own path without the weight of survival crushing them.

And I definitely want to be there.

I'm not a quitter who gives up when faced with impossible odds. 

Because Ghira didn't raise a quitter. 

Fuck giving up. Fuck despair.

"Adam."

Ozpin's voice comes from much closer than I expected. I turn around sharply and find the man has closed the distance, moving quietly on his cane while I was lost in thought.

"I've lived too many lives, experienced too many failures but also plenty of victories. " The headmaster starts. "So I can recognize that crushing weight of responsibility pressing down on your shoulders. The burden of being responsible for an entire people's hopes and dreams, for futures that haven't been born yet."

He pauses, his expression trying to show kindness. "But I can also see clearly that you're not truly alone in this fight, Adam. You have people who believe in you, who will stand with you through whatever comes. And here's something I've learned across millennia: there are never truly indestructible walls in life. Only obstacles of varying difficulty. It's up to you to decide how to surpass those obstacles, whether to go through them, around them, over them, under them, or even to simply wait patiently and let them crumble over time."

I think again, really think carefully about my situation.

Yeah, it's an uphill battle. A very, very steep uphill battle against forces with overwhelming advantages in numbers, resources, weaponry and established power both militarily and politically.

But I still have a chance, still have something that nobody else in this world has access to.

The company.

The ability to earn credits and unlock capabilities that shouldn't exist in this world. Advantages that can be force multipliers beyond anything Remnant has seen.

The knowledge I carry from another world, even if fragmentary.

And most importantly; people who believe in the cause, who want change as much as I do. Not just faunus but humans too.

Slowly, despite everything, a smirk returns to my face.

"You're right," I say, my voice gaining confidence. "It's not impossible. Just difficult."

I turn to face Ozpin fully, meeting his eyes. "And I've never backed down from a challenge."

The wizard nods with a faint, knowing smile touching his lips. "As expected from the man chosen by the Brothers themselves."

Right. He still believes I'm another herald of the Brother Gods, another chosen champion sent to fix this world and defeat Salem. Who has yet to be found or confronted in this timeline. And that the brother gods have given up on humans a long time ago.

So let's exploit that convenient misunderstanding even more.

"Ozma," I start, my voice taking on a different tone. "You've committed serious mistakes throughout your long life, that's undeniable and cannot be ignored. But you've also never truly given up despite everything thrown at you. You still try, even if you falter on occasions, even when the weight becomes almost unbearable and crushing. I needed to hear your full story, to judge for myself what kind of man you really are beneath all of that time."

I pause, meeting his eyes directly. "And you have helped me to see something important, that I cannot do this alone. I cannot change this world, cannot fulfill my purpose, without allies who understand the true stakes and the scope of what we're facing."

"I would gladly try to help however I can," Ozpin replies. "Although obviously I won't be sending my students to kill or to die in your wars. They're still children, Adam. I won't sacrifice them for political causes, no matter how just or necessary those causes might be."

I chuckle at that statement. "Nothing of the sort. I'm not asking you to turn Beacon into a military academy or recruit soldiers for my forces. But we both know they aren't truly children anymore, Ozpin. Not really. No need to lie about that truth."

I let the humor fade from my voice, becoming serious. "What do you think about recovering your original strength? Returning to what you once were?"

Ozpin raises his eyebrows significantly at the unexpected offer, surprise crossing his weathered features. "That's... I didn't think that was actually possible. The degradation of my power has been consistent across every single reincarnation. I assumed it was permanent, irreversible, part of the curse itself. Were you perhaps given a new relic by the Brothers?"

I don't reply with words. Instead, I simply extend my left hand toward him, palm up in clear invitation.

The old wizard looks at my offered hand, then back at my face, trying to read my intentions. I can see the internal debate playing across his face.

Finally, he takes a deep, measured breath and slowly reaches out with his own hand.

As I stated from the beginning of this plan, Ozpin would be stamped after this meeting. Either help him or eliminate him permanently would have depended entirely on his answers and whether I believed his story.

And as soon as his fingers make contact with mine, I summon the company stamp and press it firmly against the back of his hand, holding it there.

All three whole seconds required.

Ozpin blinks in confusion and retracts his hand, staring at the glowing symbol that slowly fades from his skin. Then his eyes widen dramatically as realization hits. He takes a sudden, deep breath and then exhales and a strange green fog pours from his mouth, dissipating into the air.

"I-I feel..." His voice trembles with profound disbelief. "Magic. Real magic returning to me, flowing through my body once more. Not the fading echo I've been surviving on, not the dregs; this is raw magic like I haven't felt in centuries..."

"It's just the beginning," I state matter-of-factly. "Soon you should be fully recovered to your peak capabilities, restored to what you were during your prime. But you need to rest properly and let the restoration process do its work naturally."

Although, it's just three days.

I reach into my pocket dimension and summon a thick stack of files, which I hand to the surprised man. An usb stick could have been used but I like my paperwork.

"What are these?" He accepts them carefully, noting their weight.

"Information about the Behemoths," I explain. "I have a strong feeling that even you know little about their actual nature, despite having fought them for centuries."

After all, any sort of detailed information about any Behemoth species sells for tremendous amounts of money in the open market. It's some of the most valuable intelligence available.

"The Behemoths?" He opens the top file, scanning the contents with growing interest.

"You need to rethink everything you think you know about them," I state firmly. "Because they're not what you believe. They're not just evolved Grimm. They're alive. Truly, genuinely alive."

"What?" Ozpin looks up sharply from the documents, confusion clear in his face.

I summon my bone longsword from my pocket dimension, the pale weapon materializing in my grip. "Behemoths are living beings that predate on each other, on their environment, and especially they actively predate on common Grimm populations. Their mere presence scares off and suppresses regular Grimm in their territories. You need to see them as a balancing agent, an ecological check that keeps the Grimm from overwhelming everything."

I hold up the bone blade for his inspection. "This weapon was forged from the bones of a Behemoth I personally killed, Gulping Terror. Actual bone that persists, not dissolving intangible darkness that fades."

Ozpin stares at the massive sword with something approaching awe. "That's... certainly revolutionary news that fundamentally changes our understanding about the Grimm and their evolution. But I've personally slain so many Behemoths over the centuries. They seemed just like the next evolutionary stage of Alpha Grimm—more powerful but essentially the same dark creatures. At least at the beginning they dissolved like the rest, their bodies fading into nothing but then..."

His expression grows thoughtful. "Then their corpses started taking longer and longer to dissolve, now that I think about it carefully. The pattern changed over time, some even formed herds or packs and didn’t actively attack settlements."

"They probably were initially just evolved Grimm," I acknowledge. "But your efforts at aggressively culling their numbers kept their population from spiraling completely out of control during those critical periods. Now they've stabilized and become part of the ecosystem rather than just agents of pure destruction. They hunt Grimm, they hunt each other, they've established territories and complex behaviors. You need to be careful with them going forward and study them properly from your position, because I'm doing the same from mine."

Ozpin opens the files once more and begins reading more carefully, his eyes scanning the detailed observations, behavioral notes, and ecological data. After a long moment, he closes them slowly. "I will investigate this thoroughly. I can certainly find many potential breakthroughs with this information, especially now that you've shown me we can harvest and use their physical remains to create weapons and armor."

He pauses thoughtfully. "And I know exactly who I can consult with about this—a professor here at Beacon who specializes in Grimm studies. Doctor Oobleck would find this absolutely fascinating."

Oobleck is around? And studies Grimm? Strange.

We talk for a while longer, discussing logistics and potential coordination, establishing the basics of how we might work together without compromising either of our positions or drawing unwanted attention.

"We'll need secure communication channels," Ozpin says*. "Something that can't be intercepted by Atlas intelligence or corporate spies."

"I can arrange that, but you can always speak with Nines." I gesture at the android who simply nods.

"I won't ask you to stop fighting for Faunus rights or liberation. But I also can't openly support a violent action against the kingdoms, much less open talks with Menagerie. But maybe I could arrange some help to open some dark trade channels if you so desire.."

"I will keep that in mind but I'm not asking for public endorsement. Just information, coordination when our interests align, and not actively working against each other."

"What about Salem?" Ozpin asks carefully. "If she moves against either of us, we need to respond."

"Agreed. But she's been remarkably quiet lately. Almost suspiciously so, even I couldn’t find her in the grimmlands."

"That's what concerns me most," Ozpin admits. "Salem is never quiet without reason. She's planning something, I'm certain of it."

"I’m still investigating with some… help. It’s better than none of you ever step inside the grimmlands tho, you won’t even be able to take a single step.”

We discuss other potential scenarios until one particular issue comes forth.

"One more thing, the Faunus students here at Beacon.”

Ozpin's expression becomes pained. "I know. I've been working to—"

"No more excuses," I cut him off. "You will have your full strength soon. You have renewed purpose. Fix it. I don't care how you do it, but fix it. Those are my kinsmen suffering under your watch."

He nods slowly. "You're right. I've been too cautious, too worried about losing what little I have. But that fear has allowed injustice to persist." His voice becomes firmer. "I'll start making changes. Quietly at first, to avoid backlash, but I'll fix it. You have my word."

"Good."

Finally, I decide its time to leave him to handle his own problems and begin implementing changes.

"Thank you, Adam," Ozpin says sincerely, standing with noticeably better posture than before. "For giving me a chance I didn't deserve, for sharing this knowledge, for..." He pauses, choosing his words carefully. "For not giving up on the possibility of change, even when it would have been easier to just destroy everything in anger."

He raises one hand in a formal gesture of blessing. "May the Brothers guide your path and grant you strength, fellow champion. May your mission succeed where mine has failed."

I simply nod in acknowledgment of his blessing, not confirming or denying his assumptions about the divine mandate or my supposed connection to the Brother Gods.

Then I turn and cross back through the portal with Nines following close behind.

We reappear directly in her dorm room at Beacon.

Huh, well thought girl.

Nines quickly surveys the room and reports quietly, "Everyone is asleep, Commander. They won't wake easily—I've been monitoring their vitals for a long time."

I nod.

Honestly, I had some vague plans before this meeting about what to do with the protagonists, even entertained the idea of playing with them a little, testing them, seeing what they were capable of and whether they'd eventually be useful allies. Creating some sort of story with them, like I initially tried with Ruby. 

Going as far to play pretend with her.

But with today's revelations, that curiosity went completely out of the window.

I need credits desperately. I need more resources. I need every possible advantage I can acquire if I'm going to somehow navigate this impossible situation.

So I move slowly and carefully through the darkened dorm, approaching each sleeping girl in turn.

Ruby Rose, curled up in her bed with a peaceful expression, probably dreaming about being a hero and saving people. Stamp.

Weiss Schnee, the SDC heiress who has ruined so many lives through her family's actions and chooses to remain willfully ignorant about it. I have to actively suppress the idea to mess her up out of anger. Stamp.

Yang Xiao Long, sprawling across her bed without any care for propriety or personal space. Stamp.

With that done, I leave quietly, Nines giving me a crisp salute as I depart through the portal. I will have her now look for other targets at Beacon so I can also stamp them.

Then I reappear in front of the Faunus building where Blake should be sleeping along with many other Faunus in the same deplorable situation as her.

But I merely stand there, thinking.

Part of me wants to just take her away right now. Grab Blake and bring her back to Menagerie, heal her back to full health, back to Kali who misses her daughter desperately every single day. Force a reunion, force her to face what she ran away from and the people she abandoned.

Sienna and Ilia also have words for her but eventually maybe things could be fixed to a degree.

But another part of me doesn't want to. That part wants to leave Blake to her fate, to let her live with the consequences of her choices, to not rescue her from the world she chose over our family. 

To suffer more.

All born out from naivety and idealism... which I also deliberately stoked the fires of to drive her away in the first place when I let myself be driven by revenge and anger.

Kali would be devastated if she knew I had this chance and didn't take it.

But I would be... I don't even know what I'd be.

It's complicated. Really, painfully complicated for me to decide what to do with Blake.

Will I even be able to control myself and not hurt her the second she was in front of me?

I don't even want to stamp her, which is stupid from a purely practical standpoint when I need every credit I can get.

But I can't bring myself to do it.

Blake is just too much of a sore spot, an open wound I haven't figured out how to treat despite how much time has passed already. I don't want to see her. Don't want to confront that particular pain.

She killed me. Even if she didn’t mean to, I know she didn’t mean to do that but yet she did. A lot of people died because of her ignorance.

But I simply cannot throw away so many years we have been together much less our time growing up as family.

Which hurts me even more because of that betrayal.

Almost everything collapsed because of her…

After a long while standing there in the darkness, I turn around and leave.

Let her stay at Beacon. Let her keep enjoying the many great things she sacrificed our family for, becoming nothing more than a servant.

Kali… I’m sorry.

There are more important things to do.

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AN: I made a mistake, I meant to say Relic of Creation not Knowledge in the last chapter; I got confused between the two since they are both djinns, I will edit that correction soon.