The room was dimly lit, the flicker of a single overhead bulb casting long shadows across the cracked concrete walls of the White Fang's hidden base. The air was thick with tension, suffocating and oppressive, as if the room itself had absorbed the weight of their collective failure.
Twelve figures sat or stood around a battered table, their faces a mixture of exhaustion, fear, and anger. Adam Taurus, their once-revered leader, stood at the head of the table, his crimson mask lying discarded beside him. His face was pale, his usually commanding presence reduced to a shadow of its former self. The jagged scar across his face—a mark of his hatred to humanity—seemed to glow faintly in the dim light, a constant reminder of his downfall.
"A failed mission," one of the members, a burly wolf Faunus named Kael, muttered, his voice dripping with bitterness. "Another slaughter. Another retreat. How much longer are we supposed to follow you, Adam?"
Adam's eyes snapped toward Kael, a dangerous glint in his gaze. "Watch your tone, Kael," he growled, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of Wilt. "I've led us this far—"
"To what?" Kael interrupted, slamming his fist on the table. "To ruin? To death? The others are either dead or rotting in cells because of your brilliant leadership! You told us Haven was the turning point. You told us we'd win!"
Adam's grip on his blade tightened, but before he could respond, another voice chimed in. This one was softer, trembling, but no less accusatory. "We believed in you, Adam," said a young fox Faunus named Lira, barely out of her teens. Her wide, eyes glistened with unshed tears. "We believed in the dream of a better world for the Faunus. But this... this isn't what we signed up for."
Adam's jaw clenched, his gaze darting around the room. The faces that once looked at him with admiration and trust were now filled with doubt and resentment. He felt the weight of their stares, each one a dagger to his pride.
"We've been reduced to twelve, Adam," Kael continued, his voice rising with each word. "Twelve! From hundreds! And it's all because of you. Because you can't see past your vendetta against humans—against Blake."
Adam slammed Wilt onto the table, the blade's edge biting into the wood. The room fell silent, the echo of the impact ringing in their ears. "I did what I had to do!" he barked, his voice trembling with barely contained rage. "The humans will never respect us, never see us as equals. The only language they understand is force."
Kael scoffed, leaning back in his chair. "And look where that's gotten us. You've led us straight into their hands. You've made us the villains in their story."
Lira sniffled, wiping her eyes. "Kael's right... Adam, maybe it's time for you to step down."
The words hung in the air like a death sentence. Adam's eyes widened slightly, his breath hitching. Step down? Him? The leader of the White Fang? The one who had carried the torch of their cause through blood and fire?
"I built this movement," Adam hissed, his voice low and venomous. "I bled for it. I sacrificed everything for it. You think you can do better? You think you can succeed where I failed?"
"No," Kael said bluntly, standing up and towering over the table. "But I know we can't survive under you anymore. You've led us to our deaths, Adam. It's time we start thinking for ourselves."
One by one, the other members began to murmur in agreement, their voices blending into a low hum of dissent. Adam's heart pounded in his chest, his grip on Wilt trembling. This couldn't be happening. Not to him.
"Enough!" he roared, the sound cutting through the chaos. The room fell silent once more, all eyes on Adam. He looked each of them in the eye, his gaze burning with a mixture of fury and desperation. "If any of you think you can lead better than me, then go ahead. Leave. But don't come crawling back when you realize you're nothing without me."
Kael didn't flinch, his expression hardened. "You don't get it, do you? You're the one who's nothing without us. And we're done."
With that, Kael turned and walked toward the exit, his footsteps echoing through the silent room. Lira hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting between Adam and the door, before following Kael. One by one, the others began to leave, their loyalty crumbling like sand slipping through Adam's fingers.
Adam stood there, frozen, as the sound of the door slamming shut echoed in his ears. He was alone.
As he stared at the empty room, the weight of his actions finally began to sink in. He had fought for so long, sacrificed so much, and yet... he had nothing to show for it. Not even the loyalty of the people who had once called him their leader.
The room echoed with the sharp crack of the table splitting in two, the sound reverberating through the empty, suffocating space. Adam stood amidst the destruction, his chest heaving, his eyes wild with fury and torment. The broken pieces of the table lay scattered at his feet, a reflection of the chaos swirling within him.
His hand trembled as he gripped Wilt, the blade still humming faintly from the force of the strike. For a moment, Adam's gaze dropped to the shattered wood, and he saw more than just debris. He saw his fractured pride, his shattered dreams, and the remnants of the White Fang he had once commanded with unyielding authority.
But it wasn't his fault. It couldn't be his fault.
"It's her," he muttered under his breath, his voice low and venomous. "It's always been her."
The words tasted bitter, even as he clung to them like a lifeline. Blake's face filled his mind, her golden eyes defiant as she stood against him at Haven. Her voice echoed louder now, the memory of her words to him like a dagger twisting in his chest.
"I'm done running, Adam."
He laughed bitterly, the sound raw and unhinged.
The stress—everything that have happened felt heavy to Adam—reaching to it's boiling point of Insanity.
"Done running? You didn't stop running. You just ran to them," he spat, the words laced with venom. "To the humans. To those who would use you, betray you, and toss you aside."
The memory of her betrayal burned like fire in his veins. The image of her leading the police airships to Haven played in his mind like a cursed loop, each repetition stoking the flames of his rage. She had turned her back on him, on everything they had built together.
She had chosen them. And had made Adam's life more miserable.
Adam's hand moved to his mask, picking it up from the table's remains. He stared at it, the crimson symbol of the man he had become. For so long, it had been his shield, his weapon, his identity. Now, as he looked at the cracks forming along its surface, he wondered if it had been a prison all along.
He clenched the mask tightly, his knuckles whitening. "This is her fault," he hissed, his voice growing louder, angrier. "All of it."
His fury reached its peak, boiling over like molten steel. With a guttural roar, Adam raised Wilt and brought it down again, slicing through another piece of the table. The force of the strike sent splinters flying in all directions, but the rage burning inside him remained unquenched.
His breathing came in ragged gasps as he straightened, his grip on Wilt tightening to the point of pain. His eyes, glowing faintly in the dim light, darted around the room as if searching for a target. But there was no one left to blame, no one left to punish.
Except himself.
For a fleeting moment, the thought slipped through the cracks of his mind, quiet and insidious. The faces of his fallen comrades—people who had trusted him, followed him—flashed before him. His failures loomed larger than ever, suffocating him with their weight. The room felt smaller, the walls closing in.
For the first time, Adam wasn't sure who he hated more: the humans... or himself.
His free hand went to his head, clutching at his hair as if trying to claw the thought away. A broken laugh escaped his lips, a desperate sound that echoed hollowly in the empty room. His knees buckled slightly, the toll of the stress and guilt finally breaking past his defenses.
"No," he muttered, shaking his head violently. "No. This is her fault. It's all her fault."
But even as he repeated the words, they felt weaker, less convincing. His anger was a fire, but beneath it lay something colder, sharper: doubt. He gritted his teeth, his body trembling with the effort to suppress it.
Blake's face appeared again in his mind, but this time, her expression wasn't defiant. It was sad, almost pitying. Her voice came softly now, almost like a whisper.
"Adam, you don't have to do this."
He snarled, slamming Wilt into the ground. "Shut up!" he yelled into the empty room, his voice breaking. "You don't know anything about me!"
But her words lingered, echoing in the silence like a ghost that refused to leave. Adam's grip on Wilt loosened, and for a moment, his arm fell limply to his side. His head bowed, his bangs shadowing his eyes as he stood alone, surrounded by the ruins of his anger.
In the silence, only the sound of his ragged breathing remained.
Then, slowly, Adam straightened as he picked up Wilt. His eyes burned with renewed intensity, but this time, it wasn't just anger—it was resolve. If Blake wanted to see him as the villain, then so be it. He would show her the cost of betrayal.
He would show her the price of defiance.
"You'll pay for this.."
He slipped his mask back on, the familiar weight settling over his face. It felt heavier than before, but he ignored it. With one last look at the destroyed room, Adam turned and walked out, his footsteps echoing in the empty halls.
The fire inside him was far from extinguished. If anything, it burned brighter, fueled by his hatred—and the faint, unacknowledged fear that he might never escape the shadow of his own failure.
Train
The atmosphere shifted as Team RWBY, Team JNPR, Rinko, Selene, Qrow, and Oscar filed into the security checkpoint. A lone officer instructed everyone to hand over their weapons for inspection and temporary confiscation.
"Standard procedure," the officer explained. "Weapons will be returned to you upon arrival in Argus."
Ruby clutched Crescent Rose like a child being separated from a favorite toy—her baby. "Be good, Crescent," she murmured. Yang rolled her eyes but patted Ruby's shoulder reassuringly.
The only exception was Qrow, whose Huntsman credentials allowed him to keep Harbinger.
Jaune moved to the front of the line of the counter. He froze mid-step when he saw the figure handling the weapons. His eyes widened in shock.
"Uhh... Cardin?" Jaune's voice wavered as he stared at the familiar face behind the counter.
The man in question looked up, equally stunned. His expression morphed into one of disbelief before breaking into a grin. "Jaune?! Is that you?!"
Behind Jaune, Nora, Ren, Pyrrha, and the rest of Team RWBY stopped in their tracks.
"Wait—Cardin?" Nora stepped out from behind Jaune to get a better look. Her blue eyes widened in recognition. "No way!"
Weiss frowned, crossing her arms. "Great.."
Ruby tilted her head in confusion. "What's he doing here?"
As the others whispered among themselves, Cardin leaned over the counter, his eyes scanning Jaune's upgraded armor and more confident stance. "You've... changed," he said, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and grudging respect. "You're not the same scrawny kid I used to mess with."
Jaune scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Yeah, well, a lot's happened since then." He hesitated before adding, "You look... different too."
Cardin chuckled, his tone lighter than they remembered. "Guess we've both grown up. This security gig keeps me busy, y'know... After the fall.. And—uh—I've had some time to think about things. Made some changes."
Behind them, Nora crossed her arms, giving Cardin a scrutinizing look. "You better mean you're not a jerk anymore."
"Yeah," Ruby chimed in, narrowing her eyes. "If you even think about picking on Jaune, you'll have to answer to us."
Cardin raised his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, I'm not that guy anymore. Haven't been for a while." He glanced back at Jaune. "I owe you an apology. For everything."
Jaune blinked, taken aback by the sincerity in Cardin's voice. "Uh... thanks. I appreciate that."
Pyrrha, ever curious and kind, leaned forward slightly beside Jaune. "Say, where's the rest of Team CRDL?" she asked, her voice gentle but inquisitive.
Cardin's smile faltered.
For a moment, his gaze dropped to the counter in front of him. When he looked back up, his eyes carried a weight that hadn't been there before. "They're dead," he said quietly, his voice steady but tinged with grief.
The air around them grew heavy as the words sank in. Team JNPR and Team RWBY exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of how to respond. Even Nora, who had been ready with a sarcastic remark or jab, found herself speechless.
"I'm sorry," Pyrrha said softly, her green eyes full of genuine empathy. "What.. Happened?"
Cardin's expression grew somber as he began recounting the events of the Fall of Beacon. "We were in Amity Coliseum when... when it happened," he started, his voice trembling slightly. "There was an explosion then whole thing came crashing down."
The air grew heavy as everyone listened, the weight of the tragedy sinking in.
"We survived the initial crash," Cardin continued. "Russel, Sky, Dove, and I... we were hurt, but alive. We thought maybe we could make it out—we helped a few civilians in the arena but then until a Nevermore appeared in the wreckage. It was massive and relentless."
Cardin paused, his hands clenching into fists. "We fought. We fought with everything we had, but we were already too battered. We tried our best to protect the people behind us.. One by one, they..." His voice faltered, and he looked away, his shoulders shaking. "They didn't make it. Russel held it off so we could regroup, but it got him. Sky and Dove tried to cover me, but they... they couldn't hold on."
The silence that followed was deafening. Even Nora, usually brimming with energy, was quiet, her expression clouded with sorrow.
"I was the only one left," Cardin continued, his voice barely audible. "I thought I was going to die there too. I had nothing left—no strength, no hope. But then, out of nowhere, Ozpin showed up. He pulled me out of that hellhole and got me to safety."
Jaune placed a hand on Cardin's shoulder, his expression filled with sympathy. "I'm sorry, Cardin. They were good guys."
Cardin nodded, his eyes glistening. "They were. And I carry them with me every day. That's why I'm here now, doing this. It's not glamorous, but... it's something. I owe them that much."
Just then, Oscar stepped forward, his usually reserved demeanor now filled with sincerity. He approached the counter where Cardin stood, his hands clasped in front of him. "I'm sorry for your loss," Oscar said gently, his voice steady but tinged with sadness. "I can't imagine what you went through... but it sounds like they were brave. They fought until the end."
Cardin looked at Oscar, his brow furrowing slightly as if he hadn't expected someone so young to address him with such empathy. After a moment, he gave a nod, his expression softening. "Yeah," he said, his voice low. "They were brave. Braver than I ever gave them credit for. And... they deserved better."
Oscar hesitated, then added, "Sometimes, the best way to honor them is to keep going. To carry their memory with you and live in a way they'd be proud of."
The words hung in the air, resonating deeply. Cardin's lips pressed into a thin line before he nodded again, more firmly this time. "You're right," he said. "That's what I'm trying to do. It's not easy, but... it's what they'd want."
Pyrrha stepped closer, her gentle presence adding to the moment. "You're doing more than you realize, Cardin,"
Cardin exhaled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Thanks, Pyrrha. And... all of you," he added, looking around at the group. "I know I wasn't exactly a saint back at Beacon, but... I appreciate you hearing me out."
"We've all been through a lot. What matters is who you choose to be now." Blake added.
Cardin managed a small, genuine smile. "Then I'll make sure to be someone worth remembering."
Oscar returned to the group, standing quietly beside Ruby as Cardin began organizing their weapons for storage. The mood was heavy, but there was a shared sense of resolve, a silent agreement to carry the weight of the past while striving for a better future.
Ruby glanced at Oscar, a soft smile playing on her lips. "That was really kind of you."
Oscar shrugged, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "It just felt like the right thing to say."
Ruby's smile grew, and she gave him a small nudge with her elbow. "It was."
As the group turned back to the counter, preparing to board the train, their spirits were weighed down with the memories of their losses. Yet, in their hearts, there was a quiet, unyielding resolve—a determination to honor those who had fallen by continuing the fight.
Rinko lingered for a moment, his gaze fixed on Cardin as the former bully meticulously organized their weapons. The sight stirred a mix of emotions within him: sympathy, respect, and a quiet understanding of the burdens people carried. With a deep sigh, he turned away and followed the others.
Team RWBY and Team JNPR quickly found their respective rooms, their chatter helping to lighten the mood. Meanwhile, Oscar, Selene, Rinko, and Qrow shared a single compartment.
Selene and Oscar claimed one set of bunk beds without hesitation. Selene carefully cradled the Relic of Knowledge in her lap, its ethereal glow casting a soft light across her face. Oscar sat cross-legged on the bottom bunk, leaning against the wall as he stretched his legs out.
Qrow, true to form, made a beeline for the train's bar section, muttering something about needing a drink to "process everything."
Rinko, however, chose the window seat. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the small table, eyes fixed on the passing scenery. The rhythmic clatter of the train on the tracks offered a strange comfort—a reminder of how far they'd come and a prelude to how far they still had to go.
From his pocket, he retrieved a USB drive, its unassuming design belying the immense weight of its contents. Holding it between his fingers, he studied it with the solemnity of someone handling a loaded weapon. Within its digital confines lay the blueprints of chaos, the kind that could either shatter Salem's plans or doom the kingdoms forever.
Rinko pulled out his scroll and activated the holographic interface, carefully placing it on the table. A faint hum filled the air as the projection came to life, its cool blue light casting sharp shadows across his features. With precise movements, he inserted the USB into the port.
Months spent in Atlas after the Fall of Beacon had forced Rinko to adapt to the world's modern technology. Navigating encrypted files, secure servers, and advanced networks was now second nature—a necessity, born out of survival and his role in the evolving conflict.
The hologram flickered, stabilizing to reveal files labeled with chilling precision: "Operation Veil".
Selene and Oscar moved closer, their attention drawn to the shimmering projection. Selene's grip on the Relic of Knowledge tightened as she scanned the interface.
"What do you see?" Selene asked, her voice low but sharp.
Rinko's eyes narrowed as he scrolled through the files. The holographic map of Remnant displayed key locations marked in ominous red. The text accompanying each point grew more damning the longer he read.
"They're not just creating chaos for the sake of it," Rinko muttered, his voice grim. "These coordinated strikes—they're distractions. Smokescreens to scatter the world's attention while they move toward something much bigger."
Selene leaned in, her sharp gaze scanning the highlighted locations. "The Relics."
Rinko nodded, zooming in on specific notes. "Beacon, Haven, Atlas, Shade—they're all tied to the Vaults. The chaos we've seen isn't random. It's a means to an end: the Relics."
Oscar paled, gripping the edge of the seat for support. "If they get all the Relics..."
Rinko's fingers hesitated briefly over the hologram's controls before continuing. "Then Salem's victory will be inevitable," he said, his voice hollow. "But there's more. Look here."
The hologram shifted, revealing detailed schematics and strategic notes.
Selene leaned forward, her sharp eyes scanning the files. "Manipulating media, spreading propaganda, and inciting unrest... It's like they're creating a chain reaction, one that will spiral out of control before anyone even realizes it."
Rinko nodded grimly. "It's what they've done before, and it's what they're continuing to do now." His fingers flew across the holographic interface as he pulled up detailed notes on past operations. A map of Remnant flickered into view, with markers highlighting key locations tied to Salem's plans.
"During the Fall of Beacon, they framed Atlas—using its mechs, soldiers, and weaponry to turn Vale against them. The chaos was enough to leave the city vulnerable to attack. Then, in Haven, they turned Lionheart, using his position to gain access to the Vault."
Selene crossed her arms. "Lionheart is gone now, but we've already seen how much damage a compromised leader can do. What's next?"
"Atlas," Rinko said, zooming in on the floating kingdom. "And not through brute force. Not yet. These files show they're planning to manipulate the upcoming elections. Planting operatives, discrediting key candidates, and creating unrest. If they can sway the outcome, they could install a puppet—someone who'll weaken Atlas from the inside."
Selene frowned. "And if Atlas falls..."
"The rest of Remnant follows," Rinko said bluntly. "Atlas isn't just a military power; it's the technological backbone of the world. If they control it, they'll control everything—communications, weapons, resources."
Oscar's voice trembled. "And Vacuo?"
Rinko shifted the map to highlight Vacuo, its untamed landscape contrasting with Atlas's rigid order. "Vacuo's strength is its people—resilient, independent. But that independence is a double-edged sword. They thrive on freedom, but it makes them harder to unite. Salem doesn't need to infiltrate their government. She just needs to sow discord—factions turning against each other, resources running thin. Once Vacuo tears itself apart, the Vault there will be hers for the taking."
A heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by the faint hum of the train.
"They're dismantling the kingdoms from within," Selene said finally, her voice tight. "This isn't just a war. It's a systematic collapse of everything holding Remnant together."
Rinko pulled up another file: "Priority Objectives." The list displayed the Relics and their corresponding Vaults. His eyes skimmed the information, pausing at a specific line.
"They haven't secured the Maidens yet," Rinko said, exhaling softly. "Without them, the Vaults remain sealed. We still have a chance."
Selene's grip on the Relic tightened. "But it's only a matter of time. If they find the Maidens—"
"They won't," Rinko interrupted firmly. "Not if we stay ahead of them."
Oscar leaned closer, his voice trembling as he read a note at the bottom of the file. "When all four are gathered, Salem's victory will be inevitable. The power of the gods will reshape the world."
Rinko frowned. "Power of the gods?"
Oscar's posture stiffened, and when he spoke again, it wasn't his voice. It was Ozpin's. "The gods... I—I think I remember..!"
"Ozpin?" Rinko asked, his tone sharp.
Ozpin nodded gravely. "The Relics are not merely keys to the Vaults. They hold the power to summon the gods—the very beings who left this world in ruin. If Salem gathers all four, she may attempt to call them back. And if she does..."
His voice trailed off, the weight of his unfinished sentence hanging in the air.
"What happens if they return?" Selene asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ozpin's expression darkened further, the weight of centuries etched deeply into his features. "It's not an easy thing to tell.. But you all deserve the truth."
He paused, his voice low but steady.
"The gods gave humanity great power, trusting us to use it wisely. But we betrayed that trust."
Rinko leaned back, crossing his arms as he studied Ozpin. "What kind of betrayal are we talking about?"
Ozpin's shoulders visibly tense. He hesitated to share for a moment, but he trusts Rinko.
Rinko's the only person he trusted more than others and to himself.
He sighed before he continued. "Long ago, humanity wielded magic freely, a gift from the gods. However, that power bred arrogance and ambition. We attempted to challenge the gods, to take what was theirs and wield it for our own gain. In our hubris, we turned on each other, and then on the gods themselves. It was an act of defiance so great that it broke the world."
Selene's expression hardened, her grip on the Relic tightening.
Ozpin continues solemnly. "They stripped us of magic, shattered the balance of the world, and abandoned us. But before they left, they gave us a chance—a test. They created the Relics, leaving behind a final warning. If humanity were to fail again, if we were to misuse the power of the Relics or repeat the sins of the past, they would return... and destroy Remnant completely."
Selene's eyes widened, the weight of his words hitting her like a tidal wave. "So Salem's plan... if she gathers all the Relics..."
"She'll summon the gods back to Remnant," Ozpin finished grimly. "And if the world is not united, if it is not at peace, the gods will judge us unworthy. They will finish what they started and erase all of us—completely."
Rinko's jaw tightened. "She's using humanity's divisions against us, playing on our weaknesses. If the kingdoms are fractured, if trust is destroyed, then Salem guarantees our failure before the gods even arrive."
"Exactly," Ozpin confirmed, his tone heavy with regret. "Salem knows this better than anyone. She was there when it all happened."
Both Selene and Rinko listened intently,
"Salem was once a mortal woman—a powerful, ambitious individual who sought to defy the gods herself. She... and I... were connected once. A long time ago."
The room fell into a tense silence, the train's rhythmic clatter the only sound.
"Connected how?" Rinko pressed, his eyes narrowing.
Ozpin hesitated for a moment before speaking. "She was my wife."
Selene gasped, her eyes widening, while Rinko's expression remained unreadable, though his gaze sharpened.
"Your wife?" Selene echoed.
Ozpin nodded, the pain of the memory clear in his voice. "She wanted to bring back someone she had lost—someone she loved dearly.. She defied the gods to do so, but her actions only brought destruction. When she was cursed with immortality, I... I tried to help her. I thought we could overcome the curse together. But in my arrogance, I underestimated the darkness it would create in her heart."
Rinko's expression darkened, his voice colder now. "So this whole war between Salem and the world... it started because of the two of you?"
Ozpin nodded, his regret palpable. "Yes. I failed to stop her when I had the chance. And now, that failure continues to haunt us all. Every kingdom that falls, every life lost—it all traces back to the mistakes I made."
"I'm.. so sorry... This is not just a battle for survival—it's a battle for the soul of humanity. And I can't do this alone. I've tried, and I've failed. Over and over again." Ozpin said, his tone steady but sorrowful.
Rinko leaned forward, his icy gaze piercing. "You're right about one thing: you can't do this alone. But that doesn't mean we're going to carry your burden for you. If we're going to stop Salem, it'll be because we fought together. Not because we're cleaning up your mess."
Ozpin looked at Rinko, a faint glimmer of hope in his weary eyes. "Then perhaps... there is still a chance."
Selene placed the Relic of Knowledge on the table, its golden glow casting faint light over their faces. "What's our next move, Ozpin?"
Ozpin straightened, the weight of centuries momentarily lifting from his shoulders. "First, we need to stop Salem from acquiring the remaining Maidens. Without them, the Relics cannot be accessed. Second, we need to unite the kingdoms. If we are divided when the gods return, our fate will be sealed."
Rinko nodded, his mind already working through the possibilities. "And the elections in Atlas? If Salem's manipulating them, that needs to be our first priority. If Atlas falls into her hands, it's game over."
"Agreed," Ozpin nodded.
Rinko's icy demeanor cracked slightly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Looks like we've got a lot of work to do."
The train continued its journey, the passing scenery a blur as the group steeled themselves for the battles ahead.
[End]