Chapter 29

Portent

Glynda stared, a not-so insignificant part of her wishing for either the reemergence of her patience. Or at the very least the energy of her youth, as Tai-Yang bid an overdramatic, tearful goodbye to Nora. Rose was watching with an air of indulgence and amusement as her manchild of a father hammed it up with the best of them. Nora, who was always game for goofing around, was playing the part of grizzled, stoic hero saying goodbye to her ladylove 'because evil (homework) never sleeps.'

"Ah'll never forget you!" Tai-Yang sobbed, affecting a drawling accent and a high pitched voice.

"Don't cry sweet thang, I reckon we'll see each other soon 'nuff." Nora replied in kind, in a startlingly accurate facsimile of a gruff man.

"Hammers and explosions?" Tai-Yang mumbled with a sniffle and a hopeful glint in his eyes.

"Hammers and explosions forever, baby." Nora confirmed with a small nod, her own glint less hopeful and more outright manic. "Goodbye."

Tai-Yang fell to his knees as Nora mimed turning around and riding away on a horse, though whether it was to stifle fake grief or all-too-real laughter was unclear.

Rose did no such thing, walking over and lifting her father up with a chuckle. "Lets get going, sweet thang." She teased.

Tai-Yang, who was now visibly giggling, snorted, a resigned smile playing across his face. "At least its better than sweet-cheeks." He mused.

"Ah, honey buns, you don't know the half of it." Rose cackled, slinging an arm her father and bullying him into Ozpin's office.

Tai-Yang groaned as his ever growing collection of nicknames was just unceremoniously expanded. "Honey buns? Oh, Qrow is going to love that one."

"You have no idea." Glynda heard Rose say, a smile in her voice. Promptly, their predictions were proven right.

"Honey, your home!" Qrow's voiced called out from within the room, his words bubbling with mirth.

"Oum damn it." Tai-Yang sighed.

The rest of the conversation was cut off as the doors closed behind the pair, but Glynda was hardly paying attention.

She was too busy beating her growing horror into submission, and planning sweet her vengeance upon Rose for introducing Tai-Yang and Nora to one another.

'Hammers and explosions, forever' indeed.

Reclining in comfortable chairs, with mugs of hot, strong coffee – some enjoying an especially potent brew, courtesy of flask of good whiskey – Qrow, Rose, Tai-Yang, Glynda and Ozpin sat around a table. The air smelt slightly of incense and petrichor. A light drizzle persisted outside, providing a soft pitter-patter of water on one of the many windows.

By all means, sitting in outrageously nice leather chair, thoroughly warm, and enjoying a delicious coffee that she had secretly crammed full of chocolate, marshmallows and far too much sugar and cream, Rose should be comfortable. She most assuredly was not. There was a thick undercurrent of tension hanging in the air, and she supposed the shoe was really about to drop for everyone here, bar herself.

So far, the extent of their combative actions to prevent the war had been one raid that went so far off the rails it must've gone full circle, as it still ended in something akin to complete success – save for her not so insignificant injuries. The idea of war was not an easy one to acclimatise to. War, truly large scale war, despite the highly militaristic nature of all successful nations in Remnant's history, was exceedingly rare. To go to war was to invite turmoil onto your doorstep, to bathe armies of men and women in the madness and horror of mass bloodshed and death. The heartfelt despair of a single person can be potent enough to attract over a dozen Grimm in a moderately dangerous area. The cesspool of dark emotions that could be elicited by something as devastating as war?

City upon city had fallen to the influx of Grimm that conflict on that scale inevitably brought. There was a famous Atlesian general that, on the eve of his victory, was credited to have said 'And to the last our lay opposition slain, every man put to the blade and claimed by their inevitable, eternal rest. Their transgressions repaid. Every slight, and injustice laid on our backs reaping penance paid in blood. Theirs was a dynasty forged of heartlessness and malice, and for that we will never forgive them, even in death. But now, men, take up your swords, for our true enemy has yet to arrive, and the night has not yet been won.'

It was a hard pill to swallow, and being intelligent, experienced warriors, the repercussions of what they were about to undertake and what failure could mean were painfully tangible, an ominous cloud on the horizon. War is hell, and war on Remnant came with demons – both monster and man – as part and parcel. And that was ignoring the personal stake everyone in the room had, and all that included.

Rose sighed softly to herself, taking a deep sip of her velvety, hot choco- err, coffee, to brace herself. She made eye contact with Ozpin, both of them meeting gazes over the rims of their mugs, and nodded almost imperceptibly. Ozpin was many things, a charismatic leader and impeccable strategist included, but she had experienced war – this war – firsthand, and so she would take the lead. She took another sip of her drink, trying to savour the rich artisan brew.

But, for the life of her, as she stared at the file on the table she couldn't quite rid her mouth of the taste of so much ash.

"Operation 'Maskfall'," She began evenly, reaching forward to flip open the file with deliberate slowness, fully aware of the intense stare she was receiving from every member the war council around her. "The planned assassination of one Raven Branwen to happen in six standard days, midnight." The heavy cover of the file fell to the table with a dull thump, and a picture of Raven, clad in tattered black and red wielding a telescoping katana crackling with lightning, her mask half slipped off her face in the middle of battle became instantly visible. Tai-Yang sucked in a breath, and Qrow lay a hand on his shoulder, but both of their eyes were riveted to the picture of Raven. "I believe, in my original timeline, that this plan was successful." She said bluntly.

There was a dull, almost painful silence at her proclamation. Glynda, tapping her fingers against the table rhythmically, inclined her head slightly. "What makes you believe it succeeded?" She asked, her voice devoid of anything but bland questioning, giving nothing of her own thoughts on the matter away.

"Beyond the laborious prep work and thoroughness of the plan itself?" Rose began, flipping through an incredibly intricate, thorough, brilliant plan spanning hundreds of pages – everything from information on the target, to diagrams, to contingencies and beyond. "By all accounts, the idea of Raven turning traitor is-" Tai-Yang and Qrow both scoffed, Glynda shook her head and Ozpin pursed his lips. "Apparently utterly ridiculous." Rose finished dryly. "And passivity is a trait I've never found in any Hunter, so her sitting out of the fight is unlikely as well. Which means if she fought, she would have fought on our side." She blew out a slow breath. "The problem with that is I never saw her, not once, in all fact I never even heard of anyone nearing her description, and someone of her skill would make waves in the war, there's no doubt. More than that, Yang never mentioned hearing anything about her either, and she was definitely paying close attention – she never really gave up on finding her."

"Is there any chance at all that she kept a low profile, perhaps? Working behind the scenes seems to be her modus operandi." Ozpin pointed out.

"Very, very low," Rose disagreed. "My team and I were central to the war, and I don't think anyone was more well informed than we were. What little slipped through Blake's fingers was practically always caught by the council's spymaster. She'd have to be a ghost to slip in between cracks that small," She flipped back to the picture of Raven mid-battle. "And impressive as her skills in subterfuge are, we can see that she isn't perfect, in fact this dossier is so comprehensive I think Qrow could still stand to teach her more than a thing or two."

"Comparing her to the Man-Of-Many-Masks is somewhat unfair, but I suppose your point stands." Ozpin conceded. "It doesn't seem as if she would be able to elude you so utterly."

"I hate that epithet," Qrow grumbled. "Being well renowned for your infiltration abilities is," He gestured with dismissively with his hand before settling on, "Kind of fucking stupid."

"Better than sweet-cheeks," Tai offered.

"Please, Mr. Unassailable Aegis, tell me about your woes," Qrow sniped back dryly.

"Gentlemen," Ozpin chided gently. Tai-Yang and Qrow both grimaced, coming back to the present reluctantly, having subconsciously began bantering to provide a brief escape from their current reality.

"Right." Qrow sighed, reaching over and flipping through the pages of the dossier with a deft hand. He was utterly impassive, until he slowly lay he plan on the table. "This is Oum be-damned insane." He passed the file to Tai-Yang, closed his eyes, and began kneading his brow. "What lunatic conjured this up?"

"This has Cinder written all over it." Rose answered. "Literally, she signed at the bottom of some pages." She pointed out.

Qrow snapped his eyes to her, a budding expression of horror twisting his features. "Cinder? This is one of her plans?" She nodded, and he groaned. "Are they all like this?"

"This is a good one." Rose admitted. "But I've seen her pull together better." She added bitterly.

"Ah Grimmshit." Tai-Yang breathed, flipping through with an awed sort of horror. "Goddamn. I thought planning from a through to z was just an expression."

"There's a reason that Cinder almost conquered Vale, you know." Rose pointed out tersely. "And isn't just because she's hardcore in a fight. If Blake wasn't so good at espionage, without the intelligence she got to us, team RWBY would have been dead a hundred times over. I've said it before, but Cinder is completely looney, and no less the genius for it."

"I know… It's just…" Tai-Yang shook his head, throwing the folder down and pointed out a page marked as vital information. "She tested Raven, over and over again. Calling her in for backup from less than a kilometre away, to intercontinental distances to get a glimpse of her limitations. She did this for years, never giving anything away, just to get a perfect idea of how limited Raven's teleportation is." Tai-Yang thumped a knuckle down on the papers, right on top of a series of graphs and diagrams. "She's got her energy expenditure and ability down to the metre. Raven teleported us to the beaches in Vacuo more than once on a whim. That's thousands of kilometres, and Cinder's margin of error is in centimetres, and from what I remember she's completely right."

"That's what 'Maskfall' is, exploitation of Raven's surety that she can escape any situation." Ozpin mused. "First, a call to drive off Grimm attacking an essential White Fang supply convoy in Mistral - Grimm which Cinder are going to incite to attack. Not so many that Raven would decline her next call to arms, but not so few that she would escape fresh and unscathed. Then, a call to drive off another Grimm attack, this time in Atlas. Again, she drives the Grimm off, and undoubtedly is feeling the strain at this point. That is when Cinder plans to strike." Ozpin turned the page, pointing to the plans on the next page. "She knows that Raven's Aura is within the indicated range, enough that all the bombs planted on-site would be enough to cause lethal damage, regardless of all the lives of the White Fang that will assuredly be lost in the explosion." Ozpin said in distaste, the blatant sacrifice of life not sitting well with him. He flipped another page, and a map was revealed, dotted with lines and circles.

"Even if she does survive, which is already highly unlikely, the location just so happens to be in a near-wasteland, with barely any civilisation within a hundred kilometres in any direction – which at this point, even before the explosion, is predicted to be Raven's maximum teleportation distance. Every town and city within two hundred kilometres will have at least four squadrons laying in wait to finish the job. Beyond that, Cinder herself will be near the explosion site, ready to take care of Raven personally if the opportunity presents itself. And coming back to the bombs themselves, they all contain a distinct scenting chemical, highly traceable by any gifted faunus, of which Cinder has no short supply. Multiple airborne squads, each consisting of a tracker and long-range suppression specialist will roam the area in order to find her. And when they do, there is a team of Hunter-level combatants, consisting of Cinder's own teleporter and a handful of her lieutenants."

"Neo Politan." Rose said with an odd twist to her lips. "A mute illusionist with teleportation abilities, albeit much more limited than Raven's. She's a bloodthirsty sadist with a penchant for torture."

"Charming, I'm sure." Glynda murmured. "You almost sound fond of her." She said after a pause, looking at Rose strangely.

"Her less than savoury habits aside, Neo isn't what I would call evil, or loyal to the cause." Rose sighed. "Ruthless and mercenary to the core, but not evil."

"How so?" Glynda questioned.

"Torchwick might be in it for the money at the moment, but that will change, eventually. He fancied himself in love with Cinder, and vice versa," Rose shrugged. "I think she's manipulating him, but hell, it might be the real deal, who knows? Fact of the matter is he's loyal to her. Neo is loyal to her money, that Cinder's guiding hand is much less restrictive and prone to indulge her darker whimsies doesn't hurt."

"You mentioned her not being evil, but the way you sell it doesn't really match up, Rose." Tai-Yang mentioned, slightly confused.

"I didn't say she was stable, or even sane, but sadism is hardly a crime - even if Neo's case is a tad extreme," Rose said.

Qrow snorted, lifting one dark brow. "Isn't torture a bit more than, well, extreme?"

"Everyone has their kinks," Rose shrugged. "And she's proven that she doesn't exactly need to torture people, she just enjoys it. I believe it's more of a 'two for the price of one' situation, Cinder gets her information, she gets off."

Ozpin scrunched his nose minutely in distaste. "Lovely."

"It is what it is." Rose sighed. "Honestly, I'd jump at the chance to get her on side, but Cinder has more dosh to throw around than we do right now, and Neo isn't going to skip out on a contract so juicy unless she's offered something significantly better."

"So we include her in our threat assessments for now, and we can come back to her once we have the resources to get her to go turncoat?" Qrow asked.

"I'm getting a distinctly Robin Woodsy' tingle right now." Tai-Yang said with a grin. "Steal from the rich and absurdly evil, give to the uh..." He paused. "...Materialistic, bloodthirsty she-devil." He finished lamely.

Rose and Qrow both snorted, and Glynda rolled her eyes.

"In the future, keep any and all tingly feelings to yourself, if you would." Glynda said, deadpan.

This time, Ozpin chuckled at her snark, giving her an approving look she felt vaguely ashamed to have earned. "That aside, perhaps we could return to the matter at hand?"

"Making sure Raven isn't horribly murdered." Rose supplied.

Qrow grimaced. "Right, definitely, that would be lovely. If only because I want a chance to ring her idiot neck myself."

"Ah, family." Rose sighed, before stretching out and taking a deep breath to prepare. "So, here's the least dangerous path to extraction that I could map out, according to the Cinder's proposed plan. If we make our insertion point here - or here - we'll have a few minutes before we come across patrols..."

Rose yawned, pulling the last cover down, and slapping her chalk covered hand together, expelling small clouds of white dust before leaning herself against the front of the desk in her new classroom. A few moments later, the door creaked open, and the first group ambled in.

It was amazing how quickly time could pass when you were both tired and busy. It felt like just minutes ago she'd started the war council, and here she was, standing and watching as her class of students walked in. It was a blur, really. So much planning, and dredging up old memories on even older enemies, and attending to the task of going through 'Maskfall' with a fine-toothed comb to ensure that any and all exploitable flaws were discovered. She didn't even remember going to bed, just waking up this morning with a distinct odour and only about fifteen minutes to prepare for her first class.

And damn, it sure was strange to watch a mix of old comrades and some of her most desperate enemies walking in like a bunch of rowdy, hormonal teenagers. Which they were, technically, but that didn't make it any less odd for her to watch. First off, there was her(?) team and her younger self, good ol' RWBY. It felt like some sort of out-of-body experience she was completely lucid for, watching as she sat down in her old seat, and took out what used to be her favourite stationary - ladybug themed, all of it - and immediately began goofing off with Jaune, just like she used to.

And then there was JNPR. The golden, shining heroes of the Remnant's modern era. Unassailable champions of light, literally beating back the encroaching darkness with the strength of their own hands. Revered and beloved worldwide as the brightest hope for humanity and faunus kind worldwide.

Poor, poor JNPR. The war had screwed them worse than almost anyone else.

The thing about war on Remnant, especially large-scale, potentially world-wide war, was that it was pretty excellent at driving people to despair and panic all over. The problem with that being that in a world infested with monsters that fed on flesh and negative emotions, worldwide panic was not an option. People would start to unravel as the Grimm became more aggressive, which would lead to a spreading of even more negative emotions, which would rouse more Grimm over a wider area, and eventually it would all begin a spiral that humankind might never recover from. A worse-case scenario, to be certain, and probably not the way most people would imagine how the apocalypse would play out, but it was assuredly the most likely.

And so, to combat that threat, and to keep the people hopeful and happy the governments of the world responded with propaganda. So much bullshit was thrown around all those years ago Rose could have fertilised the Emerald Forest. And, in keeping with Jaune's natural luck - or lack thereof - most of what was said about his team stuck. Partly it was because of his own family lineage, already widely renowned as having produced a few of the most powerful hunter's of their time. Another part was Pyrrha's own fame, and her meteoric and completely justified rise through the ranks of the Hunter world. Another was Ren, and his immediate relation to the most dangerous man in the world, his grandfather, Vacuo's 'Slumbering Dragon'. Even Nora's surprising talent as a master smith became part of their aspiring legend.

In the end, it amounted to team JNPR being dragged from the war kicking and screaming to instil calm within the masses, and to keep the peace. They became more than celebrities. They were living legends, with tales of their exploits tearing across the various populaces of the world. They were practically deified. They were credited for the liberation of new lands, the reclaiming of old cities, the destruction of ancient, named Grimm and countless other acts of valour.

Rose was pretty sure they'd at least half of them, to their credit.

They became symbols, torn from the place they had come to call home in order to distract the world from the terrible, bloody conflict happening right under their noses. A living rallying point, the bannermen and women of humanity, the vanguard of war against darkness. Selfless martyrs to the cause, all in an effort to save as many lives as they could, even if it was incredibly bitter pill to swallow.

And, Rose reminded herself, fighting the war-woken hordes of Grimm as JNPR had wasn't exactly a cushy job, either. Her war may have been horrible, but theirs had not been a whit less awful, no doubt. A Hunter's life was never an easy one.

She sighed, realising that her thoughts had taken a sharp turn for the melancholy, and that yes, someone had noticed her despondent mood.

'It'll be fine!' Yang mouthed encouragingly from her seat, giving her older sister two big thumbs up, mistaking Rose's dour mood as nervousness.

Rose quirked a small smile at her, and swept her gaze around the room. Hm, seemed as if during her trip down memory lane most of the class had settled in. Her previously small smile grew, reaching a point where she no doubt looked slightly deranged.

In all fairness, that much was accurate as could be.

"Hello, everyone," She began. "My name is Professor Rouge Rose, but you may address me as Miss, Professor, or Rose. I am your new combat instructor, and this," She slapped the wall behind her, causing a series of shades to zip up, revealing the chalkboard at her back in all it's glory. "Is your new class."

The class's response was a mixed bag of stunned silence, growing dread and smothered laughter.

'Avoiding the pointy end - 101.'

Rose smiled toothily. "Practical application begins in five minutes."

The mixed bag became decidedly less mixed, after that.

FAVOURITE~REVIEW~FOLLOW!

First update in... um... six and a half months...

Damn.

Uh.

My bad? I'll try to be better, I swear! I've just been really, really busy. I'm living an actual real-person life, and that takes a lot of time...

Also, the Witcher 3 took me like, over a hundred hours to finish... so uh, I might have been pouring all my hobby time into that, really. Updates will probably become better now that I'm not busy chasing around magical girls in tight leather pants (theirs and mine) and stabbing things with my definitely-not-compensating swords.

And I know this chapter is kind of rough, but... well, I'm out of practice. I'll try and get back into the Swing of Things.

See you all soon (hopefully). And thanks for waiting!

Inappropriately yours, HCH.